[180] The Hollow Egg

Hall rushed to the library the moment Quidditch practice ended. The Ravenclaw Founder's Chamber still held his attention.

The variety of books inside exceeded his expectations. Rowena Ravenclaw had been exceptionally learned — alchemy, runes, everything. And her understanding was in no way inferior to his own.

Hall felt a competitive spark. He could do what he did because he had an adult's perspective and special abilities. But Rowena Ravenclaw? She'd done it on her own.

"Where's Hall?" Zabini asked Draco in the common room.

"Why do you care so much?" Draco snorted.

He knew Hall had gone to the Ravenclaw Chamber. It annoyed him. Hall was already talented and ambitious — and still getting stronger. Draco felt a sense of urgency. He couldn't fall behind academically.

Gryffindor had Hermione Granger, just as ambitious. Draco was third in his year. He was determined to be second by semester's end. Surpass Hall? He shuddered at the thought. Would he have to sleep in the library?

Zabini was about to speak when Crabbe and Goyle walked in. Zabini's teasing smile vanished, replaced by a stiff, polite expression.

"It's dinner time, Draco." Crabbe didn't glance at Zabini.

Draco nodded, stood, then stopped. "Zabini, coming?"

"I'm not hungry yet."

Draco gave him a surprised look but left with Crabbe and Goyle.

Zabini's eyes darkened. Whatever Malfoy's lackeys were up to, it wasn't his business.

"Young Master, tonight's dinner has your favourite green apple pie."

Draco's mood didn't improve. Thoughts of Hall unsettled him. Hall was strong and getting stronger. Draco's thoughts were tangled.

Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a glance.

"Is it because of Wood at the Quidditch pitch?"

"Shut up."

"If you don't like Wood, we could teach him a lesson next week." Goyle's expression was obsequious.

"I'm listening."

"Aren't there Dementors around Hogwarts—"

"Impossible." Draco's face turned serious. "Dementors getting in wouldn't just scare Wood. It'd scare everyone."

"We wouldn't let them in. We'd pretend to be Dementors. The Gryffindors would be terrified."

Draco hesitated. "Pretending... is just a bit of scary. That's it?"

Crabbe and Goyle were bewildered. Draco thought it wasn't scary enough?

But Draco warmed to the idea. A fake Dementor prank would be interesting.

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"Arrange it."

Crabbe and Goyle nodded eagerly. They were still useful. They'd worried Hall Weasley had replaced them.

In the library, Hall sneezed. March. British weather. He made a mental note to get tea with extra honey when he got back.

Hall refused to take cold medicine unless absolutely necessary. The ingredients for potions — bat guano? No thanks. He'd rather taste ginger.

So he kept reading. The Origins of Ancient Runes held his attention. In Muggle mythology, runes came from Odin's prayer to the World Tree. In the magical world, they were different — a script imbued with magical power. Each runic letter held immense force. Carved into wood, stone, or metal, they unleashed their power directly. Combined, they could do incredible things.

But deciphering runes was brutally hard. You'd recognise a shape, memorise it, then try to draw it — and fail. Within days, the rune would vanish from your mind.

Hall's runic talent was good, but this wasn't about memory.

"I'm using a cheat code." His memory palace meant he could theoretically memorise anything. Not runes. They resisted.

He closed the book. Headache. Time to rest.

He stood up. The library was closed. Madam Pince had gone home. It was evening.

"Two choices. Leave or stay the night. Should I stay, stay, or stay?"

He settled on staying.

Hall wandered through the Ravenclaw library. Tall bookshelves, endless books, a central reading area. Three walls lined with shelves. The fourth wall was empty — where Rowena Ravenclaw's portrait had been. Now gone.

He sat on the sofa and fell asleep quickly.

A nightmare pulled him under. He felt something touch him and jolted awake. His wand slid into his hand.

"Avada Kedavra — wait."

Green light flickered at the wand tip. He came fully awake.

"Lady Helena?"

She wore the elegant dress from before her death, light hair cascading over her shoulders, melancholic eyes studying him.

"A curse." Her voice was soft. "You had a nightmare."

Hall sat up. The green glow vanished. He pressed the wand tip against his cheek — still baby-fat soft.

"I dreamt about a noseless snake-man." Voldemort. The name felt like biting into something he despised. "We were fighting. But something felt off."

He frowned. Had he missed something? Some detail too distant to recall?

"Tom Riddle," Helena whispered.

Hall lowered his wand. "You know him. Not surprising — he was an outstanding Hogwarts student." Top marks, handsome, charming. He'd fooled plenty of pure-bloods. Given Dumbledore a psychological scar.

Poor background. Handsome looks. Excellent grades. Impeccable behaviour.

Equals a Dark Lord.

"He took Mother's diadem from the forests of Albania."

The tiara. Hall remembered. Voldemort had turned it into a Horcrux.

"Where is it now?"

"I saw him put it in the Room of Requirement. But when I asked others to search later — they couldn't find it."

Helena looked at Hall.

"You want me to look?"

Going to the Room of Requirement was easy. Like coming home.

Helena shook her head. "Considering your nightmare, I suspect the diadem might not be there anymore."

Hall paused. His gaze swept the library. "You think it's here?"

"I can enter and leave my mother's room, but I don't know everything inside."

Hall followed her logic. His nightmare about Voldemort — maybe it wasn't stress. Maybe it was the diadem's presence.

"Since it's here, there's no rush. I'll bring more people to search."

He wasn't worried. Several Horcruxes were already destroyed. Voldemort should be the one panicking.

First period Monday: Defense Against the Dark Arts. Joint class with Gryffindor.

"Who scheduled DADA in the morning?" Draco complained. "Don't they know we'd fall asleep?"

Hall considered it. "Maybe they figured Dark Magic would wake everyone up."

Professor Lupin entered with a gentle smile. "Still not awake? Then let's change today's lesson. Interesting magic."

Slytherin students perked up. "Are you going to teach us the Unforgivable Curses?"

"Evil Slytherin!"

"Did I say anything?"

Lupin slammed his fist on the desk. "Quiet. Or I'll deduct points."

Silence.

His gaze fell on Hall. Hall blinked. What was that look for?

"I'm sure everyone remembers the first day of term."

The Dementors. A swarm of Dementors. No one had forgotten.

"Today we'll learn a spell useful against Dementors."

Ron shot his hand up. "Is it that phoenix thing?"

"That's the spell. But your Patronus might not be a phoenix."

Lupin tapped the table with his wand.

"Expecto Patronum. It's usually taught in fifth year. Given the circumstances, anyone interested can try."

No one could resist.