The Room of Requirement became their sanctuary, their laboratory, and their fortress against the outside world. The rest of Hogwarts went on with its Dementor-haunted, Quidditch-obsessed existence, but for the three girls, their true education was now taking place behind a hidden door on the seventh floor.
Ariana's control over the room was absolute. As she had surmised, keying the room's complex matrix of intent-based magic to a single, powerful will was far more stable and secure than creating multiple access points. It meant that Hermione and Daphne could only enter when Ariana was with them, a fact that subtly reinforced her leadership of their small, powerful cabal.
Their work on the Maledictus curse was a masterclass in collaborative, multi-disciplinary research. Hermione, in her element, became the lead archivist. She cross-referenced dozens of ancient texts on bloodlines, curses, and magical maladies, her brilliant mind creating a web of connections and historical precedents that no one had ever assembled before. She discovered that the Maledictus curse appeared in several ancient, noble bloodlines, always passed down the maternal line, and always with slightly different animal manifestations.
Daphne, meanwhile, provided the crucial pure-blood context. She accessed her own family's private grimoires (brought to the room by the Room's own mysterious means) and interpreted the coded, allegorical language that pure-blood families used to describe such shameful afflictions. She understood the social implications, the political maneuvering, the alliances made and broken over the centuries to contain or hide the curse. She provided the human, political map onto which Hermione laid her academic one.
And at the center of it all was Ariana. She spent her time in deep, focused analysis of Astoria's blood sample. Using her advanced, will-based magic, she was able to observe the curse on a level that was neither purely magical nor purely biological. She saw the dark, parasitic thread of magic not just as a corruption, but as a piece of flawed, sentient code. It had a purpose: to replicate, to degrade the host's magical core, and to eventually overwrite their physical form with that of the beast. It was, she realized with a chilling clarity, a magical, hereditary virus.
"It's designed to break the host's connection to their own humanity," she explained one evening, as the three of them sat around a large table, their notes and Astoria's magically projected blood cells spread out before them. "The final transformation is triggered not by time, but by despair. By the moment the host gives up, when their will to remain human is finally eroded by the curse's constant pressure." This, she knew, was what had happened to Nagini.
It was during a break in their intense research that the true scope of their sanctuary became apparent.
"This room… it doesn't just provide books, does it?" Daphne asked, her gaze sweeping over the endless, shifting aisles of their private library.
"No," Ariana confirmed. "It provides what is required. And over the centuries, many things have been 'required' and then lost or hidden here."
She led them on a tour. It was a journey through the forgotten history of Hogwarts. In one section, she showed them a rack of old, discarded wands. "These belonged to students who had them confiscated or who simply lost them. Most are inert, but some still hold a faint echo of their original owners."
In another aisle, she gestured to a dusty corner where several beautiful, but clearly outdated, racing brooms were propped against a wall. "A Silver Arrow, a Cleansweep Five… relics, but fascinating examples of early flight enchantment."
Then, she led them to a velvet-draped table. On it, gleaming under a soft, magical light, were several intricate, golden necklaces. Hermione gasped.
"Time-Turners," she breathed, recognizing them instantly.
"At least five of them," Ariana said calmly. "Lost or confiscated from students over the centuries who, like you, overestimated their ability to manage them. The Ministry believes they have them all accounted for. They are mistaken." She looked at Hermione. "This is why I was so certain of the dangers. The potential for catastrophic timeline corruption is immense."
Hermione stared at the forbidden devices, a new, profound understanding of the rules she had so nearly broken settling over her.
The sheer wealth of knowledge and artifacts was staggering. They were sitting on a treasure trove that could alter the course of magical history.
It was during one of these quieter moments that Ariana noticed a subtle shift in Daphne. While Tracey Davis was still her roommate and public friend, she seemed increasingly distant from her in their private moments.
"Daphne," Ariana asked one afternoon as they catalogued a series of rare alchemical ingredients.
"You and Tracey seem less close than you once were."
Daphne looked up from a jar of powdered Moonstone, a conflicted expression on her elegant face. "Tracey is… fine," she said carefully. "She's a good friend. But…" She hesitated. "Our conversations are about classes, about boys, about Quidditch. They are… simple. When I am here, with you and Hermione, we are discussing the fundamental nature of magic, the fate of my sister, the history of the world. It makes my other friendships feel…"
"Superficial?" Ariana supplied.
Daphne nodded, looking relieved that someone understood. "Yes. And I feel guilty about it. She's been my friend since we were children."
"Friendships, like people, evolve," Ariana said. "Sometimes, they evolve in different directions. It does not invalidate the past friendship, but it does not obligate you to a future one that no longer fits. You do not have to remain friends with someone out of a sense of historical obligation." She looked at her directly. "Do you wish to bring Tracey here? To include her in this work?"
It was a test. A question of loyalty and discernment.
Daphne thought for a long moment. She valued Tracey, but she also knew her friend's limits. Tracey did not possess Hermione's academic rigor or Ariana's profound intellect. Her inclusion would slow them down, and the secrecy of their work was paramount. More than that, Daphne cherished the unique intellectual connection she was forging here. This was her alliance, a place where she felt she was truly an equal contributor.
"No," Daphne said finally, her voice firm with a newfound certainty. "Tracey is my friend, but this… this is different. What we are doing here is more important. My friendship with you, Ariana… and with you, Hermione," she added, with a nod to the other girl, "has become more valuable to me."
Ariana simply nodded, accepting her decision. She then added, her voice softening slightly. "You should know, Daphne, that you do not have to spend time with Tracey out of guilt or obligation. If you would prefer to work with me here alone sometimes, or with just Hermione, you only need to say so. Your time is your own. Your friendships should be a source of strength, not a social burden."
A look of profound relief and gratitude washed over Daphne's face. Ariana had not only accepted her decision but had also given her permission to let go of her guilt. She had offered her the freedom of choice. In that moment, Daphne's loyalty to Ariana solidified from a strategic alliance into a deep, personal, and unshakable bond. She had found her true circle, and she would do whatever it took to protect it.