The conversation with Sirius left Ariana with a deep sense of satisfaction, but also a lingering, logical frustration. The primary threat to Harry for the year—a vengeful, escaped convict—had been neutralized. Sirius was free. Pettigrew was exposed. And yet, the Dementors remained. Their soul-sucking, joy-draining presence was a constant, oppressive weight on the school, a daily torment for Harry, and an unacceptable variable in her carefully managed environment.
She sought out Professor Dumbledore the next day. She found him in his office, observing one of his strange, silvery instruments with a thoughtful expression.
"Professor," she began without preamble. "I have a logistical inquiry. Peter Pettigrew has been exposed and is a fugitive. Sirius Black has been exonerated. The immediate threat to Harry within these walls has been neutralized. So why are the Dementors still stationed at the school gates?" Dumbledore sighed, a sound of deep, weary resignation. "A fair question, Ariana. The answer, unfortunately, lies in the labyrinthine world of Ministry politics. Minister Fudge, while enjoying his newfound popularity for 'correcting' the Black injustice, is also terrified of appearing weak. Pettigrew's escape was a major embarrassment. The Dementors are a visible, if unpleasant, symbol of the Ministry's power and diligence. To withdraw them now, while a notorious traitor is still at large, would be seen by his political opponents as a sign of weakness. They are here less as guards and more as… political theatre."
Ariana's expression remained impassive, but inside, she felt a cold wave of disdain. The well-being of hundreds of children was being sacrificed for political posturing. It was illogical, inefficient, and deeply immoral.
"I see," she said, her voice flat. "So we are to endure their presence indefinitely."
"I am afraid so," Dumbledore confirmed sadly. "At least until Pettigrew is recaptured, or the political winds shift."
Ariana gave a curt nod. The situation was what it was. Complaining further was a waste of energy. If the authorities were going to be preoccupied with political games, then she would focus her own considerable resources on a problem they were incapable of solving.
Her new project was the Maledictus curse.
The blood sample from Astoria Greengrass was a puzzle box of immense complexity. Her analysis with Hermione had confirmed the curse's physical nature, but understanding its magical mechanics required a level of research that the public Hogwarts library could not provide. She needed a space. A private, secure laboratory where she could work undisturbed, with access to materials and information beyond the normal curriculum.
She knew just the place.
A few days later, she approached Hermione and Daphne in the common room. Tracey was with them, the four of them now a common, if still somewhat startling, sight.
"Hermione, Daphne," she said, her tone indicating that this was not a casual chat. "I require your assistance with a research project."
Ariana led the two girls up through the castle, not to the library, but to the seventh floor. They stopped in a corridor opposite a large, rather ugly tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to teach trolls ballet.
"Ariana, what are we doing here?" Hermione asked, looking around the empty corridor.
"I have discovered a place," Ariana said, a rare, secretive smile touching her lips. "A piece of forgotten Hogwarts magic. I have spent the last few weeks studying its properties and securing its access protocols."
She began to walk back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall opposite the tapestry. In her mind, she focused her will with absolute clarity. I need a private, secure laboratory and library for my research on blood-curses and ancient magic. I need a place where my friends and I can work undisturbed.
She walked past the spot a third time, and on the smooth stone wall, a highly polished, dark mahogany door with a simple brass handle shimmered into existence.
Hermione gasped. Daphne's perfectly composed expression finally broke, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"How…?" Hermione breathed.
"This is the Room of Requirement," Ariana explained calmly. "It provides whatever the user requires. Its existence is a closely guarded secret. I have… modified its access protocols. The room will now only appear for me, and only I can bring others inside. It is now our private sanctuary." She opened the door and gestured for them to enter.
The room beyond was not the chaotic mess of lost items she knew it could be. It was a vast, cathedral-like space that seemed to be a fusion of the Hogwarts library and an advanced alchemical laboratory. Bookshelves stretched up into the shadowy heights, filled with ancient, leather-bound tomes. In the center of the room were several large, clean worktables, set with crystal beakers, delicate scales, and enchanted analysis tools she had requested. It was a scholar's paradise.
"This is… incredible," Daphne whispered, her eyes sweeping over the rows of books, many of which she recognized as rare, pure-blood family grimoires that should have been impossible to find.
"The room provides access to knowledge and items that have been 'lost' to the castle over the centuries," Ariana explained.
Hermione immediately rushed to a shelf, her fingers tracing the spines of books she had only ever read about. "But… Ariana, some of these could be dangerous! What if there are dark artifacts in here?"
"An astute and logical concern," Ariana said, turning to a far corner of the vast room. "Which is why my first requirement was this."
She pointed. In the corner stood another door, this one made of solid, black iron, with no handle and covered in shimmering, complex silver runes. "The room has already sorted, identified, and isolated every object containing dark or dangerous magic behind that door. It is sealed with a series of conceptual wards keyed only to my magical signature and my will. Nothing in this main area can harm us. The environment is secure."
She had not just found the room; she had tamed it, organized it, and turned it into her personal research and development facility.
She turned to her two stunned friends. "I brought you here because I need your help. Hermione, your knowledge of magical theory and your research skills are unparalleled. Daphne, your understanding of pure-blood lineage, ancient family curses, and their political histories is a perspective I do not have. My goal is to understand, and ultimately to neutralize, the Maledictus curse that affects Astoria, and by extension, Nagini."
She looked at them, her two most powerful allies, one from a world of Muggle logic, the other from a world of ancient wizarding tradition. "The task is immense, perhaps impossible. But with the resources of this room and our combined intellect, the probability of success is significantly increased. Will you help me?"
Hermione looked at the endless shelves of knowledge, her eyes shining with a fierce, academic fire. Daphne looked at Ariana, her expression full of a deep, unwavering loyalty to the girl who had saved her and now offered hope for her sister.
"Of course," Hermione breathed.
"Anything," Daphne said, her voice firm.
The trio stood together in the heart of their secret sanctuary, a Gryffindor lioness, a Slytherin serpent, and at their center, the calm, brilliant Thunderbird who had brought them all together. The great work was about to begin.