That night, Cyrus left the dormitory once again and slipped out of sight to reach the Room of Requirement.
The blood-red potion churned continuously, giving off a powerful aura of life. But soon, the whole cauldron turned to poison, taking on an unhealthy, rusty red.
Cyrus knew at once that this batch was another failure.
He had almost run out of the potion ingredients he had stolen from Snape.
"If I fail one more time, I'll have to give up for now."
Cyrus opened the alchemy books again. The seemingly simple diagrams and words had become the most profound, incomprehensible wisdom.
"Wisdom-if only Ravenclaw's Diadem hadn't been made into a Horcrux." Cyrus sighed, cursing Voldemort for wasting such a treasure!
He had ruined such a powerful treasure!
If the Diadem still worked, perhaps Cyrus could draw on its wisdom to create the Philosopher's Stone.
"Wait-"
"Who says a spear without a tip can't stab someone to death?" Cyrus suddenly realized.
No one had ever said the Diadem became unusable after being turned into a Horcrux, had they?
Perhaps others couldn't use it because Voldemort's soul fragment was attached to it, but Cyrus was different. He had no need to worry about the soul of Voldemort residing in the Horcrux. In fact-
"I am Riddle!"
A bright gleam shone in Cyrus's black eyes. He had always maintained flexible standards when it came to whether he was Riddle.
He strode out of the Room of Requirement, then walked back and forth three times, silently repeating:
I need a room to hide things. I need a room to hide things. I need a room to hide things.
Then the original door slowly vanished, and a new one appeared on the wall.
Cyrus pushed open the grand black door and stepped into a vast