After a spell of irritation, Lord Voldemort regained his composure.
Lately, he had been busy with preliminary research into Soul Toxin, along with his daily teaching, the Academic Affairs Office's tedious administrative tasks, and House business. Nearly all his energy had been consumed by that three-stop routine.
Only now, with a rare chance to catch his breath, did he recall what those two foolish Gryffindor girls had mentioned while whispering in class.
The chamber housing the Gryffindor Treasure on the fifth underground level. The paper-cut lion.
He seemed to have heard someone mention over the past two days that there had recently been a stir over fake treasures of the four great Founders deep in the Hogwarts dungeons, left by Holmes in his younger days.
If anyone in this world was most interested in exploring the secrets of Hogwarts Castle, it was certainly not the Karen Detective Club, but him, Tom Riddle.
Back then, it was through his extraordinary intelligence and persistence that he had found the Chamber of Secrets, which even generations of Headmasters had failed to discover. He had also discovered the Room of Requirement and used it as a vault for his Diadem Horcrux.
Of course, when it came to Douglas, he admitted he fell a little short. Otherwise, how could his Diadem Horcrux have been discovered?
Early winter. A freezing night.
In the small hours, two days later.
Wearing Snape's sallow face, Voldemort walked soundlessly along the dark, damp dungeon corridors.
He did not linger on the upper levels, heading straight through the sixth and continuing his search on the seventh.
Over the past two days, he had endured small talk in the Staff Room and coaxed the full story of the so-called "fake treasures of the four great Founders" out of Flitwick and Professor Sprout: