"Any leads yet?"
In the Hogwarts library, Rowan Mercer smiled as he asked the trio seated across from him. Before leaving for the holidays, he had already passed the Slytherin common room password to them for that week.
"No," Harry admitted, shoulders slumping.
Ron, however, was far more certain. "But it has to be Malfoy. Who else at this school could be the Heir of Slytherin?"
Hermione shook her head. "Malfoy didn't sound like he was lying."
On Christmas night, the three of them had successfully used Polyjuice Potion to disguise themselves as Malfoy's cronies and entered the Slytherin common room using Rowan's password. The plan had been bold. It had also failed. Malfoy never once hinted that he had anything to do with the Chamber.
"Don't rush it," Rowan said calmly, returning his attention to his book. "Even the professors haven't found anything. Whoever the heir is, they're careful."
Lately, Rowan had been focused on studying the Shield Charm. After witnessing it during the dueling sessions before Christmas, he had realized how terrifyingly practical it was. When cast properly by an upper-year student, it turned its user into a walking fortress. Frontal attacks simply didn't work.
Only after deeper research did he discover the real value of the spell. It blocked not only magic, but physical force as well. Even modern firearms wouldn't penetrate it.
Of course, it wasn't flawless. The charm only protected one direction at a time and required constant magical input, preventing the caster from launching spells simultaneously. But for Rowan, that limitation barely mattered. Magic wasn't his only weapon.
"Actually," Harry said suddenly, reaching into his bag, "we did find this. It might be connected to what happened fifty years ago."
He placed a thin, battered diary with a black cover onto the table.
"It's a diary," Harry continued. "The name inside is T. M. Riddle. Ron remembers seeing it on a plaque in the trophy room. Riddle received a Special Award for Services to the School. Hermione thinks he may have caught the last person who opened the Chamber."
Rowan froze.
The moment his eyes fell on the diary, his senses screamed. Something inside it pulsed with a dark, seductive presence. A soul fragment. Intelligent. Hungry.
Voldemort's diary. A Horcrux.
His expression stiffened for a fraction of a second before he forced it back to normal.
"And what's written inside?" he asked.
"Nothing," Hermione said. "It's completely blank. I tried Revealing Charms and even erased-and-reveal spells. Nothing worked. I was hoping you might know something."
Rowan almost reached for the diary.
Almost.
If he asked to study it, the three of them would hand it over without hesitation. And inside that diary was a young Voldemort. Knowledge. Dark magic. Secrets powerful enough to reshape his future.
But reason cut through temptation like a blade.
Dumbledore was likely already watching the diary. If Rowan took it, every move he made afterward would be under scrutiny. Worse, even with his mental defenses, he couldn't guarantee immunity from Voldemort's influence.
Some risks were calculated.
This one was reckless.
"I've read that some enchanted objects develop awareness," Rowan said instead. "If they're bound with awakening magic, they won't reveal anything unless they're acknowledged. This diary might not be ordinary. Try interacting with it."
"Interacting how?" Harry asked.
"Talking to it," Rowan replied lightly. "Or writing in it. Experiment."
The three exchanged looks, then nodded.
"Thanks, Rowan!"
They hurried out of the library, eager to test the idea.
Rowan exhaled slowly and returned to his book.
Some doors stay closed for a reason.
For a while after Ginny lost the diary and Harry picked it up, the Chamber remained dormant. Hogwarts settled into an uneasy calm.
Half a month later, at the mutant school.
Rowan stared at the pile of materials in front of him, frowning.
"None of these will work."
Leon had gathered every type of wood available in this world. Not one of them carried the properties required for wandcraft. Now that Rowan had mastered the basics, he wanted a wand here as well. Without one, his magic was restrained.
Cores were manageable. After experimentation, Professor Xavier's hair proved usable. If Jean Grey were still alive, hers would have been even better.
But the shaft was the problem.
In theory, a branch from the World Tree would produce a wand beyond legendary. In practice, that wasn't an option. Groot would have worked too. Unfortunately, he was somewhere in deep space.
Rowan wasn't opposed to unconventional materials. Enchanted metals like uru would be incredible substitutes.
But those were equally out of reach.
He rubbed his temple.
"So what can replace it?"
The answer, for now, remained frustratingly out of reach.