"Merlin's beard—look at all this stuff!"
Ron's jaw dropped as he stared at the endless mountains of clutter stretching beyond sight. After a moment, his face flushed with excitement.
"There might be antiques in here—stuff from a thousand years ago!"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Ron, we've just discovered a room that materialises out of nowhere and transforms itself based on your thoughts… and that's the first thing you think of?"
Ron scratched his cheek.
"That's what a normal person would think."
Vaughn watched the trio fondly, a small amused tilt to his lips. Once they'd taken in the full spectacle of the hidden chamber, he leaned toward Harry.
"Harry… do you feel anything?"
"Huh?" Harry blinked. "Um… well, it's amazing."
"Anything else?"
"What do you mean?" Harry frowned, genuinely confused.
Ron and Hermione both paused their exploring to look at Vaughn curiously.
"Nothing," Vaughn waved it away. "Just asking."
Then he grinned.
"Go ahead and explore. Maybe Ron's right—there might be some ancient relics buried under all this."
Ron brightened immediately and dragged Harry deeper into the labyrinth of forgotten objects. Hermione's attention was stolen by a shiny, intricate contraption near the wall.
As soon as the three wandered off, Vaughn's smile faded. His expression hardened with thought.
"So… Horcruxes don't resonate with each other—not immediately, at least."
The first time Vaughn discovered the Room of Requirement had been on the third day of term.
Not because he needed somewhere private.
But because something inside it was vital to him.
Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem.
A legendary artefact of wisdom.
A masterpiece of ancient magic.
And more importantly—
A Horcrux.
Voldemort's Horcrux.
Vaughn's eyes darkened.
There was no universe in which he would kneel before that deranged lunatic.
A man who shredded his own soul for immortality wasn't someone worth following or bargaining with.
But dismissing Voldemort entirely?
That would be foolish.
Back in his previous life, people claimed Voldemort "wasn't actually that powerful" because Dumbledore fought him to a standstill.
But those people ignored the actual context:
Dumbledore wielded the Elder Wand, the most powerful wand in existence,
and he was the greatest living master of Transfiguration.
A branch of magic that could create temporary life—
life that could intercept the Killing Curse.
Voldemort, whose strength revolved around Dark magic, was naturally countered by Dumbledore's discipline.
And even then, Dumbledore had never truly defeated him.
"I need time to grow," Vaughn murmured, running his fingers thoughtfully along his wand.
"And I need Tom weakened. At the very least, I must ensure he stays quiet for the next few years—just like in the original timeline."
He let his gaze sweep across the sea of lost property.
"No… I'm not the one who'll destroy his Horcruxes."
His lips curled slightly.
"But I can find them first… and hand them to Dumbledore."
The great Headmaster had spent years wondering why Voldemort couldn't die.
Vaughn would be doing him an enormous favour.
Originally, Vaughn hoped Harry's innate connection to Horcruxes would help locate the Diadem—but Harry felt nothing.
"Too early, I suppose," Vaughn sighed.
Which meant the tedious work fell to him.
Sorting through mountains of junk, piece by dusty piece.
Plans Interrupted
The Room of Requirement quickly became the trio's favourite haunt, and they were eager to visit again over the next few days.
But the very next morning—
News exploded across Hogwarts:
Harry Potter had joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
Oliver Wood, Gryffindor Captain, looked like someone had hexed his soul out of his body. He had specifically told the team to keep Harry's role a secret.
Harry—being Harry—told his friends.
Fred and George—being Fred and George—told the world.
"Harry's our new Seeker!" they shouted.
"We're winning the House Cup this year!"
Oliver spent the night collapsed on the Quidditch stands, questioning all his life choices.
Harry wasn't thrilled, either.
Because his week-long detention with Draco Malfoy had only begun.
Compared to what came next, polishing trophies suddenly sounded blissful.
His new punishment?
Preparing potion ingredients for Snape.
Which meant the trio's exploration of the Room had to be postponed.
Snape's Office — Again
Two more days of fruitless searching later, Vaughn headed for Snape's office for the weekend session.
He had barely opened the door when Snape's voice slithered across the room:
"Tsk, tsk… Potter, I truly wonder what occupies that thick, dim-witted skull of yours—slug mucus, perhaps?"
Draco was snorting with laughter beside him.
Snape loomed over Harry, face inches from his, delivering a scolding so acidic it could melt cauldrons.
The moment Vaughn stepped inside, Snape broke off and handed him a slip of parchment.
"The books you'll need are in the Restricted Section. This note grants access. Read them on your own."
"Thank you, Professor," Vaughn said smoothly.
He shot Harry a sympathetic look. Harry's exhausted, glassy-eyed stare silently begged for help.
That's affection, Harry, Vaughn thought.
Snape-style affection. Outsiders must not interfere.
Restricted Section – Madam Pince
Vaughn entered the library.
Madam Pince—thin, sharp, and one hex away from becoming an actual vulture—glared suspiciously at anyone who so much as breathed too loudly.
He handed her the note.
She squinted at it, then at him.
"The Restricted Section? Why would Professor Snape allow a first-year access? Those books are not meant for children."
"He believes I'm qualified, Madam," Vaughn replied with a polite smile.
"Hmph!"
She snorted violently—like an offended hippogriff—but turned away.
"Follow me. Quietly."
She unlocked the wards, slipped inside alone, and after several minutes returned with a stack of books in her arms:
"Advanced Potion-Making, Powerful Elixirs, The Complete Book of Advanced Spells… and this—A Beginner's Guide to Dark Magic. These are what Professor Snape has authorised you to borrow."
"Thank you, Madam."
She held his gaze for a long moment.
"The contents of these books are dangerous. If you encounter anything you cannot control, you will go straight to Professor Snape—or to me. Immediately. Understood?"
"Understood."
Only then did Madam Pince allow him to step back into the main library.
To be continued..
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