To reward the students for their outstanding performance, Lockhart announced that class would end early—and that there would be no homework. This made the students like the already-idolized professor even more.
That said, on the very first day back at Hogwarts, as long as a class didn't go disastrously wrong, it was fairly common not to assign homework anyway. As a result, the newly returned students had plenty of time that evening to catch up with one another about their holidays, to reacquaint themselves with their wands… or to do something else entirely.
Not here either…
Nothing…
Still nothing…
What the hell is going on?!
In the pitch-black spatial interlayer, Avada cast Lumos and glanced at his watch—it was already past four in the morning.
After learning from Hagrid that the history surrounding the Chamber of Secrets hadn't changed at all, he had deliberately sought out Professor Binns to confirm that the legend of the Chamber still existed as well. That led him to suspect that perhaps the location of the Chamber's entrance had changed. So, under cover of night, he mounted his broom and used his magical perception to scan every single corner of the school.
In the end, he found nothing.
"One full sweep uncovered a ridiculous number of secret passages and all kinds of strange magic—I could practically draw my own Marauder's Map at this point! But there's still no Chamber!"
"The legend hasn't changed. The history hasn't changed. The only thing that's gone is the Chamber itself!"
"So was Myrtle really killed by Voldemort or not? Did he actually use that murder to create the diary Horcrux?"
"Merlin, it's a good thing I completely secured Voldemort's main soul last term—otherwise I'd be scared out of my mind right now…"
"But the diary Horcrux has independent consciousness. It's an extremely unstable factor. I have to find a way to confirm its status…"
"Wait—maybe I can do this another way. If I use technical means and exploit the confessional resonance effect to attract all soul fragments to one point, wouldn't all the Horcruxes just destroy themselves?"
Avada's eyes suddenly lit up.
"If that works, then even if he fired a Horcrux straight to the moon, it wouldn't escape this!"
"The Chamber? Let the basilisk—or whatever else is in there—sleep forever!"
His excitement instantly swept away the exhaustion of the early hours of the morning.
"Alchemy can wait. I need to start researching this immediately!"
"I already have three Horcruxes in hand. The research materials are sufficient… If all goes well, I can have results before next year!"
The thought of holding such a powerful trump card instantly lifted an enormous weight from his chest. With Dumbledore covering the Chamber issue as well, he suddenly felt far more at ease.
"So… where the hell did the Chamber of Secrets go?"
And the unease crept back in again.
…
And so, in a constant cycle of relaxation → anxiety → relaxation → anxiety, Avada lay on his bed staring bloodshot-eyed at the dormitory ceiling, from a little past four in the morning all the way until dawn. The total distance he rolled back and forth on the mattress was probably enough to circle Hogwarts once.
"Did you not sleep at all?"
When the bright morning sunlight finally woke his roommates, they were all startled by Avada's crimson eyes.
"Yeah. First day back—too excited," Avada replied casually. "I haven't cast spells for an entire holiday."
"You look more like You-Know-Who, Lord Food-Finder," Shabby muttered while rubbing his eyes. "Your eyes are literally red now."
The dormitory immediately filled with cheerful laughter.
Ever since everyone learned that Avada had sealed Voldemort—and then heard from Harry and Baron that he'd actually been the core of the plan—Avada had successfully been upgraded from 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' to the far more respectable 'You-No-Full' and 'Duck Lord'. His hidden name had already been a favorite topic of gossip, and once Voldemort was added to the mix, the effect was downright nuclear.
Avada was absolutely certain that the speed at which those nicknames spread had everything to do with two particular redheads.
"My first class today is Divination…"
He glug-glugged down half a bottle of Invigoration Draught, finally restoring some color to his face and easing the redness in his eyes. He'd heard from upper-years that the Divination classroom was always filled with incense—he really didn't want to fall asleep in his very first lesson.
The Divination classroom was located at the very top of the North Tower. After breakfast, it took Avada nearly ten minutes of climbing to reach it. The room felt like a strange fusion of an attic and an old-fashioned teahouse. At least twenty small round tables were crammed inside, surrounded by chintz-covered armchairs and plump cushions. Everything was bathed in a hazy red light; the curtains were tightly drawn, and many of the lamps were draped with dark red scarves. The whole room was as warm and cozy as a winter quilt, making one desperately want to fall asleep on the spot—an effect further amplified by the heavy scent of incense.
Shelves lined the circular walls, crammed with grimy quills, stubby candles, battered playing cards, countless gleaming silver crystal balls, and heaps of teacups. At the lowest level stood a fireplace with a roaring fire; atop it rested a large copper kettle, from which the incense scent originated.
"Looking forward to this," Avada murmured, instinctively hunching his shoulders and rubbing his hands together like it was winter. "I'm finally going to see the mysteries of Divination up close…"
"Yeah," Baron nodded, hands tucked into his sleeves. "Divination has always been the most mysterious branch of magic. They say it relies heavily on talent, but every true Seer is among the most respected figures in the magical world."
—After following Avada's advice and giving up Muggle Studies, Baron had ultimately chosen Divination as well.
"Why are you holding your hands like that?" Avada asked.
"And why are you hunching your shoulders?" Baron shot back.
"…"
They stared at each other blankly for a moment, then both awkwardly straightened up.
After everyone had arrived and waited a while, the Divination professor finally appeared—late, as if on cue.
"Welcome,"a soft voice said."It is wonderful to finally meet you in the material world."
Professor Sybill Trelawney stepped into the firelight. She was very thin, and her enormous glasses magnified her eyes to several times their normal size, making her look rather insect-like. Draped over her shoulders was a light, translucent shawl adorned with countless glittering metal sequins.
"Welcome to my classroom. The Divination you have chosen is the most profound of all magical disciplines," she said, swaying slightly as she spoke. "But I must warn you in advance—if you lack innate insight, there is little I can do for you. In this field, books can only teach you so much…"
As Professor Trelawney delivered her mystifying opening remarks, Avada was already rapidly analyzing the structure of her spiritual power.
"Something's different… what's different? Where is the structure that allows her to see the future…?"
"Found it! This is… a thread? A thread made of spiritual power? It extends outward—detaching from Professor Trelawney's mind—and connects to…"
Avada followed the thread with his perception. It stretched endlessly through the sea of magic, extending and extending, almost piercing through the magical world itself. He had to steel himself, even secretly gripping his wand, eyes narrowing instinctively as he strained to see where it led.
His perspective followed the thread onward, from an angle he had never observed before, drawing ever closer to the deepest reaches of the magical ocean…
At last, he seemed to hear a faint sound.
The scenery within his magical perception abruptly changed—
Those structures felt like magic, yet far more powerful and solid—like the difference between gas and liquid. Countless such forms gathered together, forming a vast, indescribable great river. Endless "waves" surged within it, and with each surge, Avada could see fragments of the real world reflected inside.
He had found it.
Time.
(End of Chapter)