The weeks following the second task passed with a deceptive, academic calm. Harry, his friendship with Ron now mended, was in higher spirits than ever, his confidence bolstered by his success in the tournament. The duo of Harry and Ron was whole again, their dynamic falling back into its familiar rhythm. Ariana, Hermione, and Daphne continued their own quiet alliance, their research in the Room of Requirement progressing steadily. Ron even came to apologize to Ariana, which she forgave easily, but informed him that his behavior towards Harry was going to be watched carefully.
But beneath the surface of school life, Ariana's mind was constantly working, her strategic thoughts focused on the next critical move in her secret war. The Diadem in the Room of Requirement was a contained problem she could solve at her leisure. The Cup in Gringotts was a long-term logistical nightmare. Nagini was a future project requiring immense subtlety. That left the most immediate and dangerous threat: the Gaunt Ring.
She knew Dumbledore would be planning to retrieve it soon, likely over this summer, or perhaps the next. And she knew, with a chilling certainty born of her foreknowledge, that he would go alone, and that his encounter with the cursed ring would set in motion the chain of events leading to his death.
This was an outcome she deemed unacceptable. Dumbledore was too valuable a strategic asset to lose to a predictable, cursed trap. His death would destabilize the entire resistance against Voldemort. Plus, he was family. Therefore, she had to intervene.
She requested another private meeting. When she entered his office, Dumbledore greeted her with a warm, knowing smile. "Ariana. I trust you are not here to inform me you have singlehandedly solved world hunger?" he joked, his eyes twinkling.
"My current project is slightly more modest in scope, Professor," she replied, her tone serious, cutting through the levity. "I am here to discuss the ruins of the Gaunt shack in Little Hangleton."
The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes vanished, replaced by a look of sharp, intense focus. "You have been busy with your research."
"I have," she confirmed. "Tom Riddle's mother was Merope Gaunt. His grandfather was Marvolo Gaunt. They were the last direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin. The shack is a place of immense personal significance to Voldemort. It is a symbol of his heritage, the place where he connects to his Slytherin ancestry. It is, therefore, a highly logical location for him to have hidden a Horcrux."
Dumbledore did not confirm or deny it, but the grim set of his jaw told her she was correct.
"You are planning to go there alone, aren't you?" she stated, not as a question, but as a fact.
He sighed, a deep, weary sound. "It is a task of great darkness, my dear. Not one for a student, no matter how gifted."
"That is an emotional assessment, not a strategic one," Ariana countered coolly. "The Gaunt ring will be protected not just by the Horcrux itself, but by layers of ancient, corrosive curses designed to kill any who touch it. Your plan is to retrieve the ring, bring it back here, and then attempt to destroy it with the Basilisk venom, correct?"
"That is the general outline, yes," he admitted.
"The plan is flawed," she said bluntly. "You are a powerful wizard, Professor, but you are not immune to curses of this magnitude. You will likely succeed in retrieving the ring, but you will be grievously wounded in the process. You will sustain an injury from which you will not fully recover. You are sacrificing your long-term strategic value for a short-term tactical victory. It is an inefficient use of our most valuable asset: you."
Dumbledore stared at her, momentarily speechless. She had just laid out the exact scenario he had privately feared but had accepted as a necessary risk. He could also see the love in her eyes, masked by her pragmatism, a fact he was now recognizing in her.
"I propose a revised protocol," Ariana continued, pressing her advantage. "A small, specialized team. You, for your immense power and experience with Voldemort's magic. And me."
"Ariana, I cannot possibly…"
"And Professor Snape," she finished, cutting him off smoothly.
Dumbledore blinked. "Severus? Why?"
"Because the Gaunt shack will be warded not just with curses, but with psychic and emotional traps," she explained. "Illusions of grandeur, whispers of despair—all designed to prey on the mind of the intruder. Professor Snape is the most accomplished Occlumens in this castle. His mind is a fortress. He will be our shield against any mental assaults, leaving you free to focus on the physical curses."
Her logic was, as always, impeccable. A three-person team: the master of magic, the master of the mind, and the master of the soul.
"And my role?" Dumbledore asked, his curiosity overriding his protective instincts.
"Your role and Professor Snape's role is to neutralize the external defenses and secure the ring," Ariana said. "My role is to deal with the Horcrux itself, in situ. We will not bring the cursed ring back to Hogwarts. The risk of transportation is too great. I will perform the soul-transference procedure on-site. I will bring my containment sphere. We will neutralize the Horcrux and the curse at the source, in a single, efficient operation. We retrieve a cleansed, historical artifact and a contained soul-fragment, leaving no trace of dark magic behind."
The audacity of her plan was breathtaking. She was proposing a live, in-the-field magical surgery on one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, in one of his most heavily guarded lairs.
"It is too dangerous," Dumbledore protested, the protector in him finally finding his voice.
"It is less dangerous than your plan," she countered immediately. "My plan involves a team with specialized, complementary skills, and it neutralizes all threats at the source. Your plan involves you going alone and bringing a lethally cursed object back into a school full of children. From a purely logical, risk-assessment standpoint, my protocol is superior."
Dumbledore sat back in his chair, a slow smile spreading across his face. It was a smile of weary defeat, but also of immense pride. He was being out-argued, out-maneuvered, and out-planned by a fourteen-year-old girl, and he found he didn't mind at all. She was not just his student or his secret weapon; she was becoming his peer.
"Very well, Ariana," he said, his voice full of a new, collaborative energy. "You have made your case. The mission to the Gaunt shack will be a three-person operation." He looked at her, his eyes twinkling, not with their usual mirth, but with the thrill of a new, daring plan. "When do you propose we leave?"
Ariana had already calculated the optimal time. "Two days before the third task," she replied. "The entire wizarding world's attention will be focused on the maze at Hogwarts. The Ministry will be here. The press will be here. No one will notice the absence of two professors and one quiet student for a few hours. It is the perfect cover."
The plan was set. It was a move of incredible daring, a secret gambit in a war no one else even knew had truly begun.