Helena did not stop painting when he stepped into the room, even while in her corporeal state somehow recognizing that it was him and no one else. "Get ready. Tonight we're tearing the soul shard out of the diadem," Julian said curtly as he locked the door behind him.
Her hand shook at his words, ruining the painting she had been working on. After a moment, she steadied herself and set the brush into a cup of water to clean it. "Why now?" she asked, curious.
"Because he'll be occupied trying to steal a stone that is almost certainly fake from the trials protecting it," Julian replied seriously.
"But once he's finished, won't he realize what we've done and come after you?" she asked, worried for his safety.
Julian shook his head. "I can't explain how I know, but he won't be able to come after me for a long time. Maybe ever," he said before lowering himself to the floor and crossing his legs. Then he began meditating so he would be in perfect condition for whatever traps Voldemort might have placed around the diadem. Julian was not arrogant enough to believe the man would fail to prepare for the possibility of Helena revealing what the diadem was and where it had been hidden.
...
Hours slipped by, and before long dinner was over, meaning Harry and the others should already have begun making their way through the protections. Julian's eyes opened sharply, shining with determination as he rose and transfigured his robes into thick black combat jeans and a tight long sleeved black shirt that allowed him to move freely. On one hand he wore Greed, Sanar, and three protective rings. On the other, he had another five rings of protection.
Those were there in case he was not quick enough to cast a shield charm himself if any of the defenses attacked in that manner. Helena had already returned to her ghostly state and hovered nearby with the hammer in hand, fully prepared to use it if necessary.
"Give me the hammer. I'll hand it back once we reach the Room, since it'll only slow you down otherwise," Julian said seriously.
Helena passed it over without speaking and shot straight through the wall of the castle, rushing toward the seventh floor with no intention of wasting even a second.
Julian left the workshop as well, his expression focused and his wand clenched firmly in his right hand. He took every shortcut available on his way to the seventh floor, completely avoiding the suddenly tightened security around the third floor. Ten minutes later, he stood before the blank stretch of wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet.
I need a place to hide things, he thought firmly three times while pacing back and forth, and a familiar wooden door appeared.
Drawing in a deep breath to settle his nerves, he reached out and pushed it open.
What greeted him was a room overflowing with objects piled into dangerously unstable stacks, filling nearly the entire chamber and leaving only a narrow path leading farther in. "Fly above everything and see if you can spot the diadem. Call out if you find it," Julian said to Helena.
She nodded and floated upward, gliding over the heaps of objects where trash and treasure were mixed together in equal measure. Once she had gone far enough ahead, Julian started searching on foot, carefully examining every section of the room as he moved. His magical senses were useless here. The sheer number of cursed objects hidden in this place was no joke.
The twisted and dark dissonance coming from them made isolating one specific magical signature effectively impossible. Julian remained patient, though, and methodically combed through the room for the next three hours before finally locating what he had been searching for.
It rested innocently on a wooden mannequin, but Julian's magical senses still picked up the powerful dark force within the diadem, along with the network of spells layered over both the mannequin and the objects surrounding it.
"Helena, over here!" he called, and a moment later she appeared with a loud whoosh.
"That is indeed my mother's diadem, and those protections around it are no laughing matter. What's your plan?" she asked, never taking her eyes off the deceptively harmless silver crown.
"How many of those enchantments are lethal, or nearly so?" Julian asked calmly.
Helena paused briefly to count them. "Thirteen, and one more that swaps the mannequin with whoever touches it," she said honestly.
"And out of all of those, are any capable of affecting a ghost like you?" Julian asked with a sly grin.
At that, Helena suddenly realized just how useless those spells were against a ghost who could switch between corporeal and incorporeal form at will.