After leaving Little Hangleton behind, I apparated deep into the forests of Albania.
Why was I here?Because somewhere within these ancient, shadowed woods lay one of the most legendary treasures in wizarding history — Ravenclaw's Diadem.
The air was thick with mist and silence, the kind of place where even the trees seemed to whisper secrets. I remembered clearly from the stories that the Diadem had been lost here for centuries, hidden by Voldemort long after my own time. But with my memories, knowledge, and my new powers, I had every advantage.
I closed my eyes and activated the Eye of Insight, my magical vision sharpening until the world around me glowed with lines of energy. I could see the flow of magic itself — threads of life and ancient spells weaving through the forest like veins of light.
For days, I searched relentlessly. I scoured through ruins half-buried in moss, traced lingering enchantments, and followed faint magical signatures that would have gone unnoticed by any ordinary wizard.
A week passed before my patience was rewarded. Deep within a crumbling stone temple choked by roots and time, I finally saw it — a radiant glimmer of magic resting on a broken pedestal.
Ravenclaw's Diadem.
Even dulled by centuries, it shimmered with intellect and power. The runes along its band pulsed faintly as I approached, recognizing the touch of one worthy — or perhaps daring enough — to claim it.
Slowly, I reached out, my fingers brushing the cool metal. The moment I made contact, a surge of ancient wisdom coursed through me — the whispers of knowledge and lost magic flooding my mind.
Another legendary artifact, now mine.