Isaac and Professor Rosier reached the spot where the Diadem had fallen. Only when they drew close did they see that the once-intact Diadem had shattered.
The fragments were charred black, yet the words once engraved on the Diadem remained clear.
"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."
Isaac waved his wand, fitting the fragments on the floor together until the inscription was whole again.
"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure..." Professor Rosier repeated.
Isaac had told her on the way what they were dealing with.
But after personally "burning" the relic held sacred by every Ravenclaw, Professor Rosier could not help feeling wistful.
She had heard of Ravenclaw's Diadem even while she was in France.
And now the relic that should have been passed down through Ravenclaw House had been turned into an evil Horcrux.
You people at Hogwarts... No, you Brits really do have riches to burn!
Voldemort was a spendthrift, too.
Legend had it that Ravenclaw herself had placed powerful magic upon the Diadem of Ravenclaw.
It could sharpen its wearer's intellect, clearing their thoughts, quickening their reactions, and focusing their attention. It granted "wit beyond measure."
In the Wizarding World, wisdom meant knowledge, and knowledge was power.
Even if a wizard was no good in a fight, no one would dare trifle with one whose intellect was exceptional.
Nicolas Flamel was a prime example.
At his age, Nicolas Flamel could hardly get into a fight. Strenuous exercise alone might be enough to kill him.
And yet?
Did any dark wizard in France dare show up at his door demanding the Sorcerer's Stone?
Never mind whether they could even get an audience with Nicolas Flamel. If they did, the old man could turn a duel into a contest of magical gadgets before anyone cast a spell.
I'm just a frail old master alchemist. I don't understand how you wizards fight—take it up with the supplies I've stockpiled over the past few centuries.
Who knew how many treasures old Flamel had accumulated in all that time?
The same principle applied to alchemy, Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, and even charms.
That was why, at Hogwarts, the heads of the four houses personally taught Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms Class.
If a young wizard truly mastered any one of those subjects, they would grow into a powerful wizard.
Ravenclaw's Diadem was a "cheat item" that boosted a wizard's abilities across the board.
It was such a treasure that, whatever Dumbledore thought, Professor Rosier certainly coveted it.
And that wastrel Voldemort had gone and turned it into a Horcrux.
Whether Voldemort could still use it after making it a Horcrux was beside the point. The fact that he had hidden the Diadem at Hogwarts instead of carrying it showed that, to him, its value as a Horcrux outweighed its value as a boost to his intellect.
If Voldemort had been invincible back then, with no rival in the entire British Wizarding World, Isaac would have had nothing to say except, "Voldemort, you absolute legend. 666."
But old Tom had spent all that time hiding from Dumbledore.
What, studying Dark Magic doesn't take brains, just evil feelings?
Isaac had always believed Horcruxes did something to a person's mind. Tom was living proof.
Professor Rosier picked up a handsome-looking box nearby and tipped out its contents.
A few silver Sickles and rather more copper Knuts clattered to the floor, leaving Professor Rosier momentarily baffled.
She was not surprised to find money here. She was surprised that such an exquisite box held so little of it.
Did all those Sickles and Knuts even add up to two Galleons?
Six-digit security for a three-digit balance?
Clearly, the Frenchwoman had found one more reason to think poorly of the British.
Isaac missed the flicker of expression on Professor Rosier's face. After glancing at the silver Sickles on the floor, he pointed his wand at the fragments of Ravenclaw's Diadem.
"Accio Diadem fragments!"
The fragments swept through the air in a graceful arc and dropped into the box.
Professor Rosier put away her wand. Without any visible movement from her, the lid snapped shut, and the box rose into the air to float beside her.
"Cool." Isaac raised an eyebrow. Professor Rosier had followed Grindelwald back in the day, all right. Silent, wandless magic might not be the hardest feat in the world, but it certainly looked impressive.
Watching her, Isaac even began to wonder whether he should have a few fireballs orbiting him from now on.
Before I became a wizard, I made an entrance like some ordinary NPC. Now that I am a wizard, I still have no flair at all.
What the hell did I become a wizard for, then?
With the flying box in tow, Isaac and Professor Rosier left the Room of Requirement and made their way to Dumbledore's office.
Unlike the other professors, or even Deputy Headmistress Professor McGonagall, Isaac did not need a password to enter the Headmaster's Office.
In other words, Isaac could come and go from Dumbledore's office as he pleased.
Walking half a step behind him, Professor Rosier watched his back, her gaze growing thoughtful.
Dumbledore, so you're nothing but a hypocritical, cowardly old fool after all!
She could tell at a glance that Isaac was the spitting image of Grindelwald as a boy.
So what was the real reason Dumbledore gave Isaac such special treatment?
Hiding in your tower at Hogwarts, are you looking at a child who resembles someone you once knew and remembering what that person used to be like?
As though he had known Isaac would come, Dumbledore was waiting for them when the office door opened.
"Welcome, Isaac... and Professor Rosier." Dumbledore gave them both a friendly nod.
"Would you care for something to drink or eat?"
Isaac did not stand on ceremony. Professor Rosier's Fiendfyre had roasted him, so he ordered at once.
"A glass of lemonade with ice—the colder, the better."
A glass of lemonade appeared before Isaac the next second. Unbothered by the chill, he gulped it down.
"Another, please."
As soon as Isaac's glass was empty, a fresh lemonade replaced it. Thoughtfully, this one was not quite as cold as the first.
"Ha! Perfect service." Isaac praised the empty air, knowing the House-elves who served the Headmaster's Office could hear him.
Sure enough, a small mint leaf appeared in Isaac's glass the next second, a reply from the House-elves.
"Professor Rosier?" Dumbledore turned to her.
"A cup of black tea, please." Professor Rosier inclined her head to Dumbledore. Whatever she thought of Grindelwald's former lover, she would still show him basic courtesy.