Chapter 10
Hearing his voice, Flitwick whirled around wand at the ready.
“Who’s that? Where are you?” He called out.
His voice distorted by the layers of shadow still draped around him, Harry spoke.
“I might be a who, or perhaps a what. Needless to say, the where isn’t particularly important, I’m here but also a bit everywhere else. What’s so entrancing about a diadem?”
“It is no mere Diadem mortal. It possesses a tainted shred of the mage I was contracted against.”Mora spoke, as Flitwick explained what it was, as he knew it.
“It’s not any old diadem! It’s Rowena Ravenclaw’s Diadem. It was thought to be lost forever! Do you understand how significant this is?”
“Hmm. Not particularly, nor do I care overmuch.” Harry replied, walking over to the bust as he did. “Unfortunately, this iteration of it can’t be allowed to exist.”
“What! You can’t just destroy it, it needs to be studied!”
“I never said I was going to destroy it.” Harry said, looking up from where he was drawing with his blood.
“What else could you have meant?”
“I’m simply transdimensionally relocating it which will leave a perfect copy of the current iteration without the vile taint it carries.”
Ignoring the sputtering complaints coming from Flitwick Harry walked over to the bust from where he had finished drawing the ritual circle. Reaching out to the bust he cloaked himself in more shadows before picking up the diadem and placing it in the circle, peeling away the added shadows as he did so.
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Filius had seen his fair share of magic that was thought to be impossible. It was a natural consequence of being alive for as long as he had, as well as the new developments within spellcrafting, though nothing in his eighty-three years of living could have prepared him for the events unfolding currently.
Everything had been normal the night before, but then he had been woken up in the middle of the night before for an emergency staff meeting. Somehow all of the paintings in the castle had had their paint vanished, with no one knowing what had happened. Then, in the midst of investigating what had happened, he stumbled upon a door that he’d never seen before. Not particularly bizarre a phenomenon.
Still, for safety’s sake, he entered the room and wandered through the piles of ruined items, assessing each one he came across when he found it. Filius wasn’t much of a historian, far from it, in fact. He was too interested in Charms to ever truly pursue the field, but he was a Ravenclaw. Which is how he recognized the Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.
He had thought he was still dreaming, especially when the air started speaking to him, but no dream he’d had was able to truly capture the electrical feeling that permeated the air when powerful magic was at work, the likes of which he was feeling when a ritual circle of blood flashed a bright light that temporarily blinded him.
“Here you go, a perfect replica, though untainted. You’ll find the enchantments intact.” That same unidentifiable voice said, handing over the diadem, seemingly the exact same one that had been there previously.
“I’ll have to give a report on you and what just happened. What must I call you?”
From further away, the voice responded.
“Hmm. Call me Vulom.”