However, he hadn't forgotten his true purpose. He temporarily halted his observation of the surroundings and began using his Magical Perception, sweeping inch by inch through the vast ocean of magic, searching for something with a very specific signature.
Very soon, an utterly inscrutable void appeared within his perception.
"Found it!"
From his experience, a magical void represented a sapient life form. And since he was the only living person in the room at the moment, that extra void could only be the Ravenclaw Diadem that housed Voldemort's soul!
He drew his wand and slowly approached the void, sweeping aside large piles of clutter along the way. Sure enough, he soon stood before a shimmering, exquisitely crafted diadem. He reached out and lifted it from the heap of debris.
There were no additional curses on the diadem—it was safe to touch directly.
Even so, Avada didn't dare place it on his head just yet. After all, it truly contained an evil soul. Judging by what the Horcrux diary had once done, it was impossible to predict what might happen if he used it directly.
"The magic inscribed on it is far too complex and profound to fully comprehend…"
"But even so, it's easy to tell that this magical item contains two completely unrelated forms of magic. One is connected directly to the diadem itself, and its structure bears a faint similarity to human mental power—this should be the diadem's ability to enhance intelligence."
"And the other spell tightly protects that magical void—the soul fragment. Its connection to the diadem itself is weaker than the first. Needless to say, that has to be Voldemort's Horcrux magic."
Staring at the diadem in his hand, Avada frowned and muttered to himself, "It seems feasible to forcibly dismantle the structure protecting the soul fragment using mental power. This should be the correct way to destroy a Horcrux without damaging the object itself."
"With my current mental strength and the complexity of this protection… if I didn't eat, drink, or rest, and cast spells day and night without stop… it would take about half a year to completely break through it."
Yes. Brilliant.
If anyone else knew that a first-year student could, in theory, dismantle one of the world's most advanced Dark Magic constructs—a Horcrux—in half a year, their jaws would drop to the floor.
But Avada had no intention of guzzling stimulants and living off glucose drips just to perish alongside a Horcrux after six months. He decided to wait until his own strength improved enough to dismantle the Horcrux's protection with ease before dealing with it properly.
Although a single Killing Curse or Fiendfyre could achieve the same result, that would destroy the Ravenclaw Diadem itself—something Avada absolutely did not want.
"Next target… the Vanishing Cabinet."
Stuffing the diadem into his robes, Avada looked around. Before long, he spotted a black cabinet that looked as though it had been splashed with sulfuric acid—dilapidated and barely holding together.
When he'd read the original story in his previous life, he'd always felt that this thing had the potential to change the entire wizarding world.
Instantaneous transmission of objects, ignoring distance altogether. The key point was that its manufacturing technique wasn't even that complicated—a sixth-year student could repair it with relative ease. It was cleaner than Floo Powder for travel, and for communication, it was countless times faster than owls.
Just imagine—if this thing could be miniaturized down to the size of a palm, then modified using Floo Network principles so that it could link freely to other Vanishing Cabinets like fireplaces…
At the very least, owls would be completely out of a job.
What Avada had never understood was this: the magical world's spatial technology was already developed to near-miraculous levels. Instant movement, space compression, vast dimensions contained within the infinitesimal, spatial folding—even entire worlds housed inside a single suitcase were nothing remarkable anymore. And yet, they still refused to apply these technologies to the transmission of information.
What, did owls have unemployment insurance or something?
"I must figure out how it works as early as possible."
Looking at the damaged magical structure on the Vanishing Cabinet, Avada made a quiet resolution: "Once I'm back, I have to speed up my self-study. I need to reach the level where I can research spatial magic as soon as possible. Maybe I can even borrow some books on Apparition as reference…"
In the end, he took a few reluctant final looks at the battered cabinet before leaving the Room of Requirement.
"First, I need to re-hide the Horcrux."
With the diadem still tucked inside his robes, Avada exited the Room of Requirement and closed the door. Watching it slowly fade back into the wall, he focused again and paced in front of the same stretch of wall three times.
"I need a room that only Avada Kendavia can open.I need a room that only Avada Kendavia can open…"
The door reappeared.
Inside was a completely empty room, only a few square meters in size. Avada placed the diadem in the corner, carefully checked that there were no obvious risks, and then finally left, heading straight for the school library.
He had to strengthen himself as quickly as possible—gain the power needed to analyze the Vanishing Cabinet and dismantle Horcruxes!
"Knowledge about the Vanishing Cabinet should be manageable by sixth year. After all, in the original story, Draco Malfoy repaired it during his sixth year."
"But Horcruxes are on a completely different level. Before sixth year, Voldemort didn't even fully understand what Horcruxes did. And that book detailing Horcruxes—Secrets of the Darkest Art—has already been hidden away in Dumbledore's office. If I dared ask him for it, he'd probably throw me straight into Nurmengard to keep Grindelwald company…"
"All in all, I should fully master all the knowledge from first through seventh year as soon as possible. Then I'll try sneaking into the Restricted Section to see if I can find any clues. The only problem is my memory isn't good enough. I remember that powdered dragon claw can temporarily increase intelligence—if I get the chance, I should try to obtain some…"
"Oh right, there's also a potion called a Wit-Sharpening Potion that does the same thing. And it's taught as early as fourth year! I'll ask Professor Snape about it after Potions class tomorrow. I'm neither Harry Potter nor a Gryffindor—maybe he'll be a little gentler than in the original story… maybe?"
Finally, after Madam Pince reminded him that curfew was approaching, Avada dragged himself out from between the piles of books, his head spinning, and staggered back to the Hufflepuff common room.
"Hey, Ken! Why are you back so late?"
Avada's roommate, Xavier Nott, was sitting by the fireplace. "While you were gone, the upper-years gave us first-years a crash course on Hufflepuff common knowledge. I wanted to call you, but I searched the Great Hall and couldn't find you anywhere. Where did you go?"
"The library."
Rubbing his temples, Avada still felt sluggish. "Only after coming here did I realize how little I actually know about magic. And as a Muggle-born, my foundation is even weaker than students from wizarding families. I have to work harder to make up for it."
"Merlin's beard—don't joke around. You were the star of the day!"
Xavier shot him a disdainful look that screamed humblebrag much? "You were the second to finish in Charms, and the first to succeed in Transfiguration. If you count as 'having weak foundations,' then what are the rest of us? A bottomless pit?"
"Come on, let me tell you about Hufflepuff. These are experiences and traditions passed down by upper-years—you'll never find them in the library."
"Oh?" Avada realized then that he'd been so absorbed in his research that he'd neglected bonding with his own house. "Go on."
Xavier finally grinned smugly. "I'll stick to the traditional stuff. For example, on Sunday afternoons, if the weather's nice, the house organizes picnics at scenic spots. If you're confident in your cooking skills, you can apply to be a volunteer chef with the prefects. Then there's the common room tea gathering every Wednesday night…"
"The kitchens are right next to the common room entrance—it's that painting with a big basket of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it'll laugh and turn into a doorknob. Open it, and you're inside the kitchens…"
"And the house-elves in the kitchens get along really well with Hufflepuff students. You can borrow kitchenware freely, and if you get hungry at night, you can always go there for a midnight snack…"
(End of Chapter)