943 Moonlight Adventure Ⅲ

Straightening the Sorting Hat, Rowan cleverly drops the dagger into her hand and pockets it. Hastily, Rowan tosses the glittering sword into her Mokeskin pouch, before brushing past James without any further explanations.

"Wait here," Rowan only paused to grunt, before rushing back to the headmaster's office to return the Sorting Hat.

The last of the fireworks began to die off and James could only watch Rowan vanish up the tower. His fear was with good reason because not long after pairs of footsteps could be heard. Annoyed, the Scottish borough of Professor McGonagall can be heard. "Professor Dumbledore, the culprits must be found! They've roused the entire student body!"

"I am sure it is not as bad as that," Dumbledore said with a faint yawn. "I am sure that the culprits have already returned to their dorms, and it will be difficult to prove otherwise. I would suggest we all get some sleep before tomorrow."

"Very well, Headmaster," Professor McGonagall huffed irritably before passing by James's location wearing a thick, burgundy-colored wool bed robe and a pair of red and gold bed slippers. The older witch murmured something about mad old coots under her breath, before vanishing around the corner.

James's lips crinkle with a hint of mirth at seeing the Gryffindor house colors that his former Head of House is still wearing. The mirth on his face vanishes and grows taunt at seeing Professor Dumbledore stand before the entrance. The wall splits open, and Professor Dumbledore vanishes inside before the wall loudly slams shut behind him.

A hiss of frustration escapes from James's lips before his head alertly freezes. He can hear muffled unseen footsteps that grow nearer and louder. "There is no need to be so concerned," an unseen female voice from his side said before Rowan removed the invisible cloak.

"Thanks for your cooperation," Rowan sincerely said returning the invisible cloak to James.

"How-," James started to say, before shaking his head and accepting the invisible cloak. "Of course, you waited to exit the entrance until Professor Dumbledore reentered the headmaster's tower to be certain that you wouldn't encounter the headmaster or any of the other professors."

"Precisely," Rowan said, before glancing down the corridor. "The coast is clear, you should return to the Gryffindor Tower, James."

"Wait, how in Merlin's name did you know how to retrieve Godric Gryffindor's sword from the Sorting Hat?" James asked in sincere amazement of having witnessed the legendary sword being pulled out of the Sorting Hat. He still couldn't believe that the mythical sword still existed having been thought by all to be long lost and buried with Godric Gryffindor.

"Severus and I are the descendants of Godric Gryffindor," Rowan replied matter-of-factly as if that explained everything. "And if there was anyone worthy of removing the sword, they would have been able to as well." After all, Potter had been able to do so in the Chamber of Secrets including Ron Weasley in the woods when destroying the Horcrux.

Having not received a full answer to his question, James wisely decides to drop the topic. However, his hazel eyes flicker over Rowan as if concluding something. His hazel eyes are grave and far older than that of a mere boy.

For a moment, Rowan is off-put by the stare of James. It was not the stare of the James, the boy, but rather the eyes of someone who had seen and lost far too much. The maturity found within them resembled someone who had lived an entire lifetime.

James is the first to look away and nods his head at her. "Good night, Rowan," he quietly says, before turning and heading up to the Gryffindor tower. He had much to ponder about after tonight's events.

"Good night, James," Rowan murmured watching him go until his silhouette is gone. For a moment, there James's gaze resembled her own. It was rather off-putting, and she didn't quite know what to make of that. It was fodder for thought.

Rowan stood there for some time more ensuring that James returned safely to the Gryffindor tower via her mindscape. Certain that James had not strayed, she double checks her mapscape before teleporting to the Chamber of Secrets. She wanted to hide away the two treasures she had acquired.

Inside the Chamber of Secrets, there is a hidden dark, cool lair. With practiced ease, Rowan casts a light spell before turning on various lamps to light up the dark chamber. It wasn't that she didn't trust wax candles, but she didn't trust them to not go out in the chill of the chamber. And she especially did not want to suffer from carbon monoxide poisoning considering the closed-off location of the hidden lair within the Chamber of Secrets.

With the stone chamber now lit with the lanterns, Rowan says, "Nox," and the light goes out at the end of her wand. The stone chamber is rather cozy with thick rugs with elegant, comfy furniture. There is a large bookcase against one end of the chamber filled with ancient volumes, manuscripts, forbidden dark arts grimoires, and rare tomes. Past the uncovered stone area is the laboratory with carefully stored vats filled with Basilisk parts and countless other creature parts which Rowan took possession of from Bellatrix's vault in the quest to destroy the Hufflepuff Cup. It wasn't though Bellatrix had any use for them, it wasn't theft rather merely a much-needed appropriation.

Taking a lantern with her, Rowan moves past the laboratory to a small passageway without a door. She never had really gotten around to replacing the door, but she really had not seen much of a point in doing so since there was nothing of value left behind in the reading room. Still, she would have to immediately remedy that now.

Rowan wrinkles her nose at the dust in the air, but she had only ventured into this area once during her second year and had not bothered since. The shadows move in the narrow passageway until a few minutes later, she finally arrives inside the small reading room chamber. Much like the time before, the instant she stepped into the small chamber the ancient fireplace burst into flame immediately brightening the room up. Despite thousands of years the enchantments in this place had yet to completely fade away.

The furniture in the room was old and beginning to crumble smelling of moths and mold. But still, the old spells from a thousand years still held on just barely, but surely were nearing their end needing to be ruined. Rowan makes a note to replace the furniture and the carpet since she would be entering and using the room more often.

The air is rather dusty and smelling of mildew and old things. Rowan performs a quick cleaning spell on everything in the room. The room instantly becomes less dusty and much more bearable. The mildew smell wasn't quite gone, but it wasn't strong as before.

There are no portraits nor much of anything else beyond an ancient chair and a small table beside it. It likely had once been a reading room or perchance a place for Salazar to collect his thoughts. Frankly, Rowan didn't care as she planned to use the chamber for other purposes.

The medium-sized chest made of snakewood still remained in its original place. The chest was once again locked with a great black snake curled around the hinges biting its own tail. Knowing exactly what to say, Rowan hisses in parseltongue, "Open for the heir of Slytherin, heir to the greatest of Hogwarts Four." With a soft hiss of its own, the snake on the lock releases its own tail as it slid loose and curled on the side of the trunk.

Setting the lantern down, Rowan leans down and carefully slides the empty trunk open. The last time she had opened it, she had found a basilisk inside, before destroying it. Reaching into her mokeskin, she removes a gleaming silver sword with glittering rubies the size of eggs on the handle. "Oh, the great irony," she muttered to herself, before carefully placing the sword in the depths of the chest.

Rowan was not the type to put all of her eggs in one basket. Should anything happen to her mokeskin pouch, she wanted to ensure the safety of Godric Gryffindor's sword. Reaching once more into her mokeskin much more curiously she removes the dagger that she had not been able to see. In the firelight, the simple silver dagger with intricately carved runes reflects the orange glow.

"Liga est Magicae," Rowan read out loud recognizing the blade the one from the memories of Marcellus. It was the dagger that Rowena forged upon her deathbed.