1943
A Slytherin fifth year frowned at the people gathered around the table. Some of them winced under his stare as he invaded their minds, delving into their thoughts like if they were open books. No one dared to even try shielding their most private possessions.
His frown deepened as he didn't find a satisfactory answer. He finally spoke up. "It seems like none of you failed to follow my orders, and yet, you are no closer to bringing me results. I'm disappointed. Once again, you've proved to be incompetent, and I shall do it myself."
With that, he got up from his chair and left the room. He refused to waste any more of his valuable time with them, at least at the moment. He had spent the last years looking for his inherited treasure, the Chamber of Secrets, and he had assumed those fools would make it easier; but no, they didn't accelerate his plans. Sometimes they managed to bully insignificant pieces of information from younger classmates, but nothing else.
They were no use for him with their recklessness and lack of self-discipline. If he was any more impulsive, he would have cursed them all to oblivion.
He was heading back to his dormitory in dungeons, when he spotted a glint on the windowsill on side. That got his attention, the stone corridors didn't gleam. He stepped closer, looking at the odd item — some jewellery, a pendant on a golden chain.
With further observation, he came to a conclusion that this little thing might be worth taking. It was old, possibly expensive, and it could come in handy.
He picked it up, and disappeared.