Chapter 75. Ravenclaw's Diadem
After leaving Professor Wesson's office, Hermione let out a long breath.
Harry's recommendation had indeed been spot on; Professor Wesson was far more approachable than she'd imagined.
As a student with a strong thirst for knowledge, she often needed to consult professors about all sorts of questions.
Most professors were very happy to answer her.
As for Snape—honestly, he frightened her; during Potions he kept finding all sorts of ridiculous reasons to dock Harry's points.
If the person Snape was picking on were her…
Oh, heavens, that would be dreadful.
Hermione couldn't help but shiver.
In the office, Wesson leaned back in his armchair, his gaze unfocused on the landscape painting on the opposite wall.
Wit-Sharpening Potion… wisdom…
Sometimes, all it takes is a small catalyst, and those memories buried deep in the mind suddenly resurface.
It's like an old book whose pages are lifted by a gust of wind, the blurred ink turning clear again.
When Hermione asked whether a Wit-Sharpening Potion could make someone smarter, something even more important surfaced in Wesson's mind.
Ravenclaw's diadem!
Unlike the false "wisdom" brought by a potion, the diadem that Rowena Ravenclaw was said to have enchanted could truly enhance the wearer's intellect.
But at present, Ravenclaw's diadem should already have been made into a Horcrux by Lord Voldemort and hidden in the… Room of Requirement.
Yes—the Room of Requirement.
As the memory grew clearer, Wesson was finally sure he had recalled the diadem's location.
The thought made him instantly excited.
Why hadn't he thought of Ravenclaw's diadem before?
In truth, as a student Wesson had often gone to the Room of Requirement. It was wonderfully secluded; he could do almost anything there without being discovered.
Yet despite visiting the Room countless times, it had never occurred to him that Ravenclaw's diadem might be inside.
Ravenclaw's diadem—a treasure that could increase the wearer's wisdom—who could resist such a temptation?
At ten o'clock that night, Wesson left his office and headed for the castle's eighth floor. Moonlight streamed through the high windows onto the spiral staircase, casting mottled shadows.
The Room of Requirement lay opposite a tapestry on the eighth floor of Hogwarts Castle.
That tapestry was called "Barnabas the Barmy and the Trolls."
It depicted a classic anecdote in the wizarding world: a man named Barnabas, who fancied he could teach trolls to dance ballet, and was promptly clubbed by them.
When Wesson reached the tapestry, his gaze was inevitably drawn to it.
He couldn't help a small smile, then schooled his expression and focused.
Beside the tapestry, Wesson closed his eyes and paced back and forth, silently repeating in his mind, "I need a place to hide something."
After the third pass, a smooth door appeared in the wall opposite the tapestry.
Seeing the door, Wesson exhaled—this part worked just like before.
Upon entering the Room of Requirement, the sight beyond the door made him pause.
It was a vast junk chamber, crammed with all manner of objects, like an enormous maze.
Broken furniture, rusty armour, old robes, heaps upon heaps of books…
Over the years, who knew how many students and professors had hidden things here?
Wesson even spotted a withered Mandrake in a pot—shriveled up—crumbs of soil scattered all over the floor beside it.
There was just one problem: Wesson didn't remember the diadem's exact position.
As for the Summoning Charm, he tried it, and just as he expected, it had no effect on Ravenclaw's diadem.
It looked like he could only search slowly.
Fishing out what you wanted from such a mountain of stuff was no easy task.
At last, on top of a cabinet, Wesson found something that seemed promising.
It was a bust of a wizard, and on its head sat an antique-looking crown.
The crown was shaped like an eagle and set with a large blue-green gem, though a thick layer of dust dulled its lustre.
Wesson's heartbeat quickened; he was almost certain this was Ravenclaw's diadem.
To be safe—
"Eldra."
[Name: A tainted magical object]
[Status: Soul contamination]
[Warning: Do not touch directly]
After receiving the information relayed by the Tree of Wisdom, Wesson swiftly took a pair of dragon-hide gloves from his pocket.
Dragon-hide gloves could block most forms of magic.
Gloves on, Wesson Transfigured a nearby small chest into a ladder, set it by the cabinet, and climbed up.
As the diadem drew nearer, he grew increasingly excited.
He reached out carefully to touch the diadem.
Perhaps because of his own mental suggestion, even through the gloves he could faintly sense a chill seeping out of it.
Fortunately, nothing untoward happened; Wesson successfully lifted the diadem from the bust.
With that done, he placed the diadem into a small box he had prepared in advance.
It was a box made of thunderstruck wood; he had heard thunderstruck wood could ward off evil.
Whether that was true or not, he didn't know.
The inside of the box was etched with protective charms, able to temporarily block certain effects of Dark magic.
He closed the lid gently—click—and the box locked itself. Only then did Wesson relax.
Whatever the case, one must be extremely careful with anything Voldemort left behind.
Being entangled with Voldemort was no joke.
Picking up the box, Wesson glanced at his pocket watch; he had been in here nearly an hour.
Most of that time had been spent searching for the diadem.
Box in hand, Wesson swept his gaze around to make sure he'd left no traces, then turned and headed for the door to the Room of Requirement.
But the instant he stepped out of the Room, a familiar figure froze him where he stood.
Albus Dumbledore, his back to Wesson, stood before the tapestry, hands clasped behind him. His silver-white beard glittered in the moonlight as he appeared to study "Barnabas the Barmy and the Trolls" with keen interest.
Wesson's heartbeat spiked; his grip on the box tightened.
He hadn't expected to run into Dumbledore here—especially at this hour.
"Good evening, sir," Dumbledore turned at the sound of the door closing and, seeing Wesson, blinked in mild surprise. "Ah—it's you, Professor Wesson. I thought it might be a little wizard out for a nighttime stroll."
Wesson kept his composure as best he could and smiled lightly. "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. I left a few things in this room—some from when I was a student. A few old books, and some notes."
As he spoke, Wesson lifted the box in his hand slightly.
But Dumbledore paid it no particular mind; he merely smiled and nodded.
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