Notes: Wow, I am very sorry for the wait. I'm sure many of you thought I was through with this AU. In fact, I've begun a new job that is very satisfying but extremely stressful, and it leaves me with little time to sneakily work on anything else during the workday and little energy at the end of most days. I'd say "this kind of a delay won't happen again," but I can't promise that. Let's just say I'll do my best.

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Museum of Magic, Part I: Foundations

Hermione turned away from the cabinet in Tom's office, lost in thought. The cabinet displayed a nice collection of unique magical artifacts, including two of his three most prized antique pieces: the Elder Wand and the locket of Slytherin. The third, the Resurrection Stone, he wore on his hand.

Most rare wizarding artifacts did reside in private collections, Hermione mused. They were scattered and not well accounted for. Hogwarts was something of an exception; the school housed many valuable items, but it too had an entire secret room—the Room of Hidden Things—with rarities certainly hidden amongst rubbish, unbeknownst to anyone. The wizarding world did not have truly public museums, a discovery that had shocked Hermione when she had first realized it.

She had, in seventh year, urged Tom to donate the Elder Wand to a museum, but no wonder he had instantly scorned that idea. It would have meant donating it to Hogwarts—in his mind, donating it to Albus Dumbledore, the very person he had wanted to keep it from.

Ever since Hermione had become aware of the absence of wizarding museums, she had wanted to do something about it, but until a couple of years ago, she hadn't had the capacity. Tom had only become Minister about a year and a half ago, and before that, he had been Head of Magical Law Enforcement—not exactly in a position to take up that particular cause to the former Minister. She could have started one with funds from her own organization, but that would have been a large enough investment that it would have meant cutting back on research activities. Besides, a truly public museum should be supported by the Ministry.

Tom would surely approve of the idea, she thought. He had enthusiastically created Hogsmeade Park when she had suggested that to him. He was in favor of public works for the wizarding world. The concept fit well into his philosophy of Wizarding Nationalism, and a museum—a repository of magical history that was open to the public—would certainly be something that he would like. Especially if I don't suggest that he donate anything of his own, she thought wryly.

He was at the office late today, but he would be back soon. She left his home office and headed into the family room where the children were.

Later that night, after Hermione had explained her idea to Tom, he sat back in bed, thinking. "I think… that's a brilliant idea," he finally said, gazing at her.

She beamed. "Then you would be willing to put the resources of the Ministry behind it?"

"Certainly," he said at once. He furrowed his brow. "It might fit in my Office of Social Welfare… it would be a disbursement of money for social good… or I could create a new office specifically for it… but whom to put in charge…." He trailed off, musing.

Hermione's face had quickly fallen, her expression twisting into dismay and then outrage as he thought aloud. "I beg your pardon?" she sputtered.

He looked at her inquiringly. "What's the matter?"

She gaped at him. "This is something Advance is perfectly capable of running."

"I didn't say it wasn't. But you asked—"

"To be quite blunt, Tom, I asked for money," she said. "My idea was that the museum would be funded partly by public gold and partly by my organization, but my people would administer it."

"There wouldn't be any need for you to poach from your own ranks, though. There are many people in the Ministry, protégés, who'd be glad of an appointment to a major new office."

Hermione heaved a breath in annoyance. "Tom, listen to me. I don't want one of your political people running this. It's not appropriate, for one—museums are supposed to be about scholarship—but also, this is my idea."

Tom was scowling. "You've never objected before when I made your ideas into reality through the Ministry."

"Most of them were ideas about law and policy."

"Hogsmeade Park—"

"—is a public park. Governments run public parks. It's more suitable for my organization, which does research and scholarship, to run a museum."

"With Ministry funding."

"Well, yes. In part." She touched his shoulder, trying to control her visible annoyance with him. He was so possessive. "Tom, I want to do this one myself. It's my idea, and the Ministry isn't necessary for anything except helping to support it."

Tom was silent for a minute before responding. "I suppose I understand why you feel that way, but people are going to want Wizengamot or Ministry representatives involved if public gold goes toward it. There has never been anything like this in the wizarding world in Britain, and some of them won't understand the purpose of it at first. Too much lowbrow Muggle culture has insinuated its way into our world," he sneered. "So they're familiar with Muggle-style commercialism and gimmicks, but they're so ignorant that they don't actually know that's what it is—and they certainly don't know about Muggle museums—"

"Tom."

"I'm afraid they'll see it as the Ministry sending a large sum of money to the Minister's wife for a strange project that they don't understand. It'll look corrupt."

For a moment Hermione wanted to hex him. After the various stunts he had pulled over the years—and got away with!—he thought that her idea would look corrupt? But she tried to honestly consider his words instead of focusing on that part. "I think you're a bit too cynical this time," she said slowly. "Almost every witch and wizard in Britain went to school at Hogwarts. The school's artifact collection isn't all in one place, certainly, but the books are—"

"Except for certain ones that Dumbledore disapproves of."

"Tom."

He sighed in resignation to let her finish.

"My point is, they understand the purpose of a library. They all have familiarity with one. And many of the rich families do have their own artifact collections. For that matter, there's Borgin and Burkes, which most people know about. It's not an abnormal concept at all. I don't think they'll have any difficulty seeing the purpose of the museum, and after all, it's not as if the Ministry would be sending money to me personally. It's going to be a public facility for everyone to enjoy. I might even offer free admission."

"I hope you're right about what people think, but I think I'll still have to appoint someone to the museum board."

Hermione still didn't like the idea. It seemed just as much an imposition to her as, in her old life, Cornelius Fudge appointing Dolores Umbridge to meddle with Hogwarts. This was her vision and her project. She understood that he liked the idea—obviously, since it fit with his philosophy of wizarding culture and wizarding national pride—and she knew that it would be impossible to keep him away from something in which he was legitimately interested. But she did not like the thought of having to get the approval of one of his hangers-on in order to do what she wanted with an entity that her organization would administer and partially fund.

She met his eyes with her own. "Appoint yourself, then."

His dark eyes widened. "Myself?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "If I must have someone from the Ministry on the museum's board, I'd rather it were you than some flunky of yours. I'd rather consult with you, since you clearly want a voice in it anyway."

His eyebrows rose. "Was it that obvious?"

"It was," she said, smirking. "So… do you really want one of your underlings to have authority—even a small amount—over the direction of a big project of mine? Imagine the satisfaction that person would feel, having power over me." She felt a bit of disgust with herself for manipulating him this way, but she was certain that this argument would convince him.

She was correct. Immediately his face changed. "Well, since you put it that way…."

"And it's no more corrupt than Dumbledore having a vote on the Wizengamot while also being Headmaster of Hogwarts," she added. "In fact, I'd say it looks less corrupt than it would if you appointed a political crony to the spot."

"There's something in that," he agreed, thinking about it. "It's saying that this museum is something I have a sincere personal interest in—something I'm taking responsibility for, to a degree—instead of using a public institution of history and culture to promote members of my political faction."

"Exactly."

"I would rather have a permanent charter and guaranteed funding for it, which will require the Wizengamot to vote," he mused, "but that'll also allow me to be there as a representative of the Wizengamot rather than the Ministry. Just to be on the safe side," he added, smirking sideways at her. "I don't intend to give up my job."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him at that comment. He surely didn't mean—no, she corrected herself at once, he does mean it: Minister for life. And his life…. But no, she would not pursue that line of thought. It was painful and complicated.

She recalled that he used to have an objection to the concept of life-appointed, hereditary Wizengamot seats. That was before the individual vote that the Wizengamot had granted to her—at that time, he held the Law Enforcement Head's seat—was converted to a family seat. His opposition had evaporated at that point. Evidently, he had just wanted the Wizengamot to place his family on equal footing with the others.

"Tom," she finally said, "I meant what I said. I'd rather consult directly with you about this, especially since you obviously like the idea."

"It's a good idea. The wizarding world needs more awareness of its own high culture and history."

"Yes… but I do want something to be clear. We'll work together on this. You'll act in your capacity as a member of the board of the—the National Museum of Magic, or whatever it'll be called—and not as the Minister. I will be chairwoman of the board. I'll listen to you… but you are not going to be my 'boss' on this."

Tom was staring at her, a slight grimace on his face as she described how she would have a higher position of authority than he would. He was not used to that. She had her own career, of course, but he simply was not involved at all in most of what her organization did. When they worked together on something, he usually did have more power. But… this was her idea, he recalled. And after all, he comforted himself, she wants me involved personally, not through a representative, because I'm interested in it. That consideration placated him.

He met her eyes and nodded in consent. She smiled back at him, her eyes sparkling, looking delighted. It always made her irresistible when he knew she was happy because of him, and this was no exception. With a smirk blossoming on his face, Tom reached for her and pulled her down with him.

As he drew his fingers along her body teasingly, making her gasp and heave her breaths in a way that sent his blood rushing exactly where he wanted it, he reflected that she wouldn't mind letting him be her "boss" in these circumstances.

Tom found it difficult to stay in the background when it came to a topic that held his interest, but he had promised Hermione that he would not take this over. To that end, she had arranged the meetings in her own office. They were meeting with Dumbledore, which ordinarily would have irritated Tom to the point that he wouldn't want to speak—unless he was trying to goad Dumbledore in some way—but this was an exception, so it was all he could do to keep from interrupting Hermione and taking charge.

"It's a fine idea," Dumbledore was saying. A genuine smile adorned his face, so his words were apparently sincere. "The wizarding world would greatly benefit from a public museum. There is so little interest in our history…."

"Well," Hermione said, smiling Dumbledore's own signature mild smile back at him, "the course 'History of Magic' is not taught in the most interesting way. How many students actually take the NEWT-level courses? Binns is… perhaps not the best instructor."

Dumbledore looked uncomfortable. "Binns haunts his classroom because he cannot move on. He cannot conceive of any existence other than teaching that subject matter. It would be cruel to him to ban him from the classroom and take that away from him…."

"But at the expense of knowledge?" Hermione questioned. "At the expense of offering a job to a living person who has extensive knowledge of magical history?"

"Are we going to discuss the Hogwarts curriculum?" Tom interjected, pointedly meeting Hermione's eye. "Because if we are, I have some suggestions to make as well."

"No, you're right," Hermione said at once. "This is about the museum. Whatever the causes, there really is a need for it. If it's designed properly, it would make magical history interesting to everyone."

"It would," Dumbledore agreed. "Of course, one must be careful that the museum does not become a vehicle for any interests to promote their own positions."

Tom shifted in the background, his robes rustling.

"I wouldn't let that happen to it," Hermione said quickly. "It will be a repository of important historical objects and a source of facts."

"Of course, but another aspect of history is interpretation, and it is all too easy for ideology to get in the way of that."

You would know, Tom thought, but he kept his mouth shut. Hermione would not appreciate it if he hijacked this.

"That's true, but that's the very reason why I am determined to keep it under the auspices of a nonprofit research organization," she said smoothly, "instead of being subject to the politics of the Ministry. That should help considerably."

Dumbledore managed a wry smile. "Considerably, yes. A panacea, though…."

What was he trying to imply? Hermione knew quite well that wealthy philanthropists often tried to impose their own priorities and views on any projects that they funded. She knew how to handle them, and most of them knew what to expect when they made their donations. They knew they wouldn't be the only ones doing so, and they knew that an entity that was not political—at least, not explicitly so—would be harder to sway. Money would be coming to the Museum of Magic from numerous sources, so no one interest would be able to threaten it with closure by withholding gold.

Hermione decided to shift the topic slightly to something else that she had hoped to mention to Dumbledore while he was here. "I have experience in the matter," she said. "But I was actually wondering about the possibility of having artifacts from Hogwarts featured in the museum."

Dumbledore quirked his eyebrows. "Which artifacts do you mean?"

"Nothing that would be required for classroom usage," she said at once, "but there are other important pieces. The Sword of Gryffindor…."

Tom perked up. He already knew that the sword had made appearances in Hermione's original time, and he had no interest anymore in turning Founders' artifacts into Horcruxes, but he had not realized that Hermione thought it was at the school currently.

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, I currently have possession of the Sword of Gryffindor."

Tom's eyes widened.

"However, that sword is linked to the Sorting Hat. If a Gryffindor student needed to use it, it would be magically drawn from its current location, even a warded museum."

"How often would it happen that a Gryffindor student needed aid while wearing the Sorting Hat?" Hermione challenged. "That hat is in the Headmaster's office for the full year, except for one day… and the school really shouldn't be under such threat that anyone would need to call for aid."

"It would be embarrassing to the museum if it did happen, though," Dumbledore pointed out.

Tom could not help himself. "Is that really it?" he challenged. "Are you sure it's not just that you think the sword belongs at the school, since it was Gryffindor's, instead of at a museum?"

Dumbledore's bright blue eyes briefly met Tom's dark ones. "I don't know, Tom," he said quietly. "Do you think the Elder Wand belongs at a museum, or in your own home?"

Tom sputtered for a moment in protest, his eyes widening. He had not realized that Dumbledore knew about the Elder Wand, but there was no point in denying it now. "The Elder Wand is unusable now," he snarled. "Besides, I won it. Nobody won the sword. It's linked to the school because of a charm, but that could probably be severed."

"That would be a shame. The sword has such long history with Hogwarts."

Hermione gaped at Tom, then Dumbledore. "Let's all take a step back," she urged. "There is nothing to be gained by sniping at each other. I merely mentioned the Sword of Gryffindor as a possibility. There are other objects, though…." She turned to Dumbledore earnestly. "The Room of Requirement—I presume you know about it?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Well, its manifestation as the Room of Hidden Things… there must be countless artifacts there that are of historical interest. It would be worth investigating."

He considered. "It probably would be, yes. Of course, I would not want to steal something that a living student left in the room for safekeeping…."

"It would have to be a living, current student… and I don't know how you would find out if something belonged to someone. If you made a public announcement that museum people were going to go to the room and retrieve anything of value, students would try to claim that things were theirs when they weren't," Hermione said. She frowned, thinking. "Perhaps if you were very vague about the description of where the room was… but specific enough that anyone who had left something there would know to get it…."

Dumbledore nodded. "I expect I will have to do something like that. It's a good idea, though—examining the Room of Requirement in that incarnation. I probably should have gone through it years ago."

Hermione did additional leg work for the next several days, soliciting support from numerous prominent people and institutions in the wizarding community—including some with whom she would have rather not worked. However, it was necessary.

Abraxas Malfoy was not one of those people. His supporters were becoming fewer by the day, with even those who agreed with his politics not wanting to align with him personally. But despite the daily exposure of ever more of his soon-to-be-ex-wife's hideous memories, he still felt the need to comment. Perhaps, Hermione thought, he felt that he had nothing to lose.

"Historical artifacts of the wizarding world belong in private homes," he declared to the Daily Prophet. "They are the treasures of the families who passed them down, not show pieces for public consumption."

When Tom had read that quotation, his brow had furrowed in thought. For a moment, Hermione was concerned. It was distinctly possible that Tom, with his possessive tendencies, agreed with that viewpoint and just hadn't considered it until now.

But then he set down the newspaper and gazed at her. "I'm not going to send out the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, or the Slytherin locket for 'public consumption,' but I might feel differently about it if I owned a surplus of historical artifacts instead of just those three."

Hermione sighed, smiled, and shook her head affectionately. "That argument might be very persuasive, though," she said, "so I thought of another option. Families wouldn't have to actually give or sell their property to the museum. They could loan it instead. There would be cards on the exhibits that mentioned if something was on loan to the museum, giving positive recognition to the people who lent it."

Tom nodded. "That might do better. We could have new exhibits, too, and plus, there would be the awareness that an item that was on loan might not be there for years. It would draw more visitors."

It turned out that the suggestion of loaning items appealed a great deal to Orion Black. When Hermione and Tom met with him, he eagerly expressed his support for the museum and promised that he would both vote for it on the Wizengamot—which they expected—and whip votes from his fellow pureblood Isolationists. They had not expected that.

"He wants to differentiate himself from Malfoy," Tom said after that meeting. "He's still intimidated by me, afraid of what I might do to his family, so he wants to prove to me that he doesn't take direction from my enemies." He smirked.

"And he just might think that the museum is a good idea itself," Hermione said tartly.

"That too," Tom said agreeably. He was in a good mood. Although this was Hermione's project, he was well aware that he would receive some credit for it as well. And he should, he thought; he would be on the board of directors, and although Hermione had taken the lead in these preliminary meetings, he was there for all of them, giving the impression—the correct impression—that it was a partnership. A popular project like this would help reaffirm his footing as Minister and undo much of the political damage that had been done during his first year and a half.

Besides, the museum would give him a chance to do what he apparently would not be able to do with Hogwarts: promote a different view of magical history and the Dark Arts.

He knew it couldn't be too overt and obvious. The content of exhibits had to be factual and not blatantly slanted, or it would backfire. But that still left a lot of flexibility, especially in the kinds of exhibits that were present. Some in the wizarding world would not want it to say too much about the time of persecution leading to the International Statute of Secrecy, or if they did, it would be that insipid, lying narrative that Bathilda Bagshot promoted: "No witches or wizards were ever killed; we formed a secluded society to make it easier to control bad wizards who liked to torment Muggles, or to keep Muggles from wanting magic to do everything for them." Utter rubbish, and probably just a conscience salve for Bagshot for the Wizarding Supremacism of her infamous great-nephew, Tom thought scornfully.

Tom was not going to take over Hermione's museum, but he did intend to put his foot down about this issue. The lies of A History of Magic would not be endorsed in the National Museum—not on his watch. It was true that there had not been as much persecution in the United Kingdom as there had been elsewhere in the world, but there had definitely been killings of magical people by Muggles in the West, and the museum was going to have material about it.

Tom was also going to broach the idea of presenting a more… balanced… approach to the Dark Arts. The branch of magic was ancient, long predating "light magic" as a way of casting spells. It was a terrible shame that modern usage had conflated "the Dark Arts" with "magic that causes harm." Virtually any spell could cause harm. One could die of a broken neck from a tripping jinx, after all. The real difference was that the Dark Arts used the will of the caster to power the spell. This, unlike the other class of spells, meant that in the Dark Arts, truly great sorcerers could distinguish themselves by the power of their magic. Herpo, Merlin, Morgana… Salazar Slytherin… for that matter, Tom suspected Rowena Ravenclaw had sometimes practiced the Dark Arts—which reminded him, he needed to make a certain trip abroad before long… Grindelwald… even Albus Dumbledore knew Dark Magic, although he did not usually perform it. Hermione was the same. All great sorcerers.

And myself, he completed the thought—though perhaps it wasn't a great idea to include himself in a museum exhibit about the long history of Dark Magic.

There would be an exhibit, though. He would make sure of it.

At last, the Wizengamot had convened to consider Hermione's proposal to charter and contribute funding to a national public museum of magical history. The outcome of the vote did not appear in doubt. Rumor had it that Orion Black had lobbied the vast majority of the old families to support the cause—even to loan some of their belongings to the museum, a gesture that would garner them approval from the general public—and of course, the Wizarding Nationalists were unified behind their Minister, as always. Albus Dumbledore was also apparently supporting the mission, along with the scholarly inclined allies of his among Reformists and Reformist-leaners.

However, there was opposition, and as the members of the Wizengamot filed into the imposing room that day, the opponents of the museum were easy to identify. They were seething, with looks of grim determination on their faces. Hermione and Tom prepared to listen to them make their angry rants before their—hopefully—inevitable defeat.

The Chief Warlock called the body to order, and Hermione formally introduced her motion. There was a smattering of applause as she presented her argument for the museum and sat down.

Then Septimus Weasley gestured to be recognized. Hermione tilted her head to look at him. His spectacles were almost falling off his nose from his trembling. He stood up, turned around, and glared across the rows of seats.

"I want to make very clear, I do not oppose knowledge," he said at once. "But today I have been delegated to speak on behalf of the majority of the Reformist faction in expressing our grave concerns about this proposed National Museum of Magic." He shoved his spectacles up his nose.

"Here it comes," Tom murmured under his breath to Hermione.

"First of all, why exactly does the wizarding world need a museum of history? We have History of Magic, a required course for five years at the greatest school of magic in the world." Weasley gave a simpering look to Albus Dumbledore, apparently hoping to persuade him to switch his vote with naked flattery. "No, this is not strictly an educational venture, I am afraid. There is another agenda at work.

"I realize that with the united support of the Isolationists and the Wizarding Nationalists, this museum will move forward, but I would urge my compatriots to consider what sort of platform that it will likely promote in its narrative of our history, with that alliance backing it. It's widely known that they do not credit the history textbook used in our school, at least when it comes to the purpose of the Statute of Secrecy, but instead promote an anti-Muggle explanation of our founding law. And in addition, the Minister is an acknowledged Dark wizard! What version of that will he and his wife put in this museum, I wonder? Will it be filled with dangerous Dark artifacts, while also presumably being open to children or even Squib family members of wizards?

"If this were entirely a private venture, those involved could do as they saw fit, but I object to the use of public gold to finance a political project. I would urge Reformists to vote against this and not give it the veneer of cross-party support." He glared out again before sitting down.

Tom was going to motion to be recognized, but Hermione shot him a pointed look. He scowled for a moment but deferred. The Chief Warlock yielded the floor to her.

"Mr. Weasley," Hermione said, "in the first place, one can retain an interest in history beyond the Hogwarts years… or develop it as a young child. In fact, the existence of the museum will serve to increase interest in the subject, something that is sorely needed. You mention History of Magic at Hogwarts, but that class has the lowest average OWL score, the lowest pass rate, and the lowest percentage of students who attempt the NEWT-level courses of all the subjects that are taught. I would wager," she said, forcing a wry smile on her face, "that a majority of us in this very chamber napped during that class at least once!" There were appreciative chuckles, and Hermione continued. "This needs to change, and the museum should help greatly with that.

"Secondly," she continued, "I'm very disappointed that you think I would allow the museum to become a propaganda vehicle for anyone. It will be managed not by my husband the Minister, but by a scholarly organization that is unaffiliated with the political factions. Furthermore, there are valid reasons to disagree with the explanation of the Statute of Secrecy presented in A History of Magic, so the museum will present a balanced perspective of historical events. But if you are concerned that it will serve the agenda of its private donors, that's a reason to provide public funding and multi-factional support."

There were murmurings throughout the chamber as she concluded her remarks and took her seat again. Tom smiled at her and patted her arm approvingly. She smiled back.

The Chief Warlock held the vote soon thereafter. Dumbledore voted in favor, as he had indicated he would, and it was apparent halfway through that the measure would pass easily. But Weasley nonetheless cast a loud "Nay," a mulish glare on his face, when his name was called. His allies did the same. Evidently they believed they were making a principled stand.

To tell the truth, Hermione was concerned that Tom would try to turn the museum into the "Wizarding Nationalist Propaganda Institute." He had indicated to her that he particularly wanted to have features about the time of persecution and the history of the Dark Arts. She could not say it surprised her, and she could not really say no—because if she did, that would arguably entail promoting an agenda by omission of information.

I see what Dumbledore meant now, she thought as the Wizengamot dismissed and people gathered up their belongings. She took Tom's arm and Disapparated with him to the privacy of her own office.

He dusted himself off and smirked triumphantly at her.

She smiled back. "We're committed now," she said, squeezing his hand. "So we have to do it right. I'm not going to thwart your ideas—they are a part of our history—but since Weasley and his cronies already suspect that our intent is to push propaganda through the museum, we'll have to be careful. Nothing should go into exhibits about controversial topics that isn't supported with cold, hard fact."

Tom nodded. "I agree—and I had a couple of ideas about that."

"Oh?"

He sat down in the nearest chair. "Yes. For the Statute of Secrecy exhibit, I think we should include some items from Wizarding America. That was one place where it got really bad, after all. Even Weasley can't deny that we were indeed persecuted there. I know a former MACUSA President who now resides in magical Boston, and he has quite a collection of historical items pertaining to that—pamphlets, broadsides, and so forth. Even the wand of an ancestor of his who was killed by witch-hunters."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"They don't have a museum either, so I'd like to take a family trip there, and negotiate having the items loaned to us," he said.

Her imagination took flight. She had never been to that part of the world. Fuzzy images of a harbor, of Georgian-style architecture, of yellowed documents with spidery old-fashioned handwriting, filled her mind. "I'd love to do that," she said feelingly.

He smiled. "And there's something else that I thought of. When I was in school, before you arrived, I was very interested in Founders' artifacts."

She snorted.

"Well, I asked the Grey Lady of Ravenclaw about the location of the Ravenclaw diadem, and she told me."

"Yes, I know," she said. "I mean—I assumed that it happened this time as well, but that you did not choose to pursue it."

"I'm pursuing it now," he said. "Not for the same reason—I don't need multiples—but for the museum."

Hermione considered that. He had owned the Slytherin locket for years without being tempted to break his promise to stop at one Horcrux. The diadem wouldn't present a greater temptation than an artifact to which he actually had a personal connection, and it was a shame that it lay buried in a forest in Albania. It was exactly the sort of thing that should be in the museum: a legendary item belonging to Wizarding Britain, long thought lost. In fact, its discovery would draw people to the museum in droves.

She nodded slowly. "I like that," she said. "I'm afraid I don't have any advance knowledge of exactly where it is, but I'm sure we can find it. Yes. Let's do that too."

End Notes: Why isn't there a national public museum of magic in the books? Like the absence of wizarding parks (which these two have also remedied), it's a head-scratcher once it occurs to you. I'm not against frivolity like Tom is, but the wizarding world really is shallow and commercialistic in canon, and it's not because "they're children's books." Children love museums… and besides, the books are Young Adult and pretty dark. The problem is that anything that isn't frivolous—any historical artifact or advanced subject matter—is rare, secret, or hidden, and then presented with a certain degree of wariness or disapproval, as something that people would do better to avoid. It's a fantasy trope, but it's anti-intellectual when the "One Ring principle" applies to everything advanced.

In Deathly Hallows, Harry thought that—unlike Tom Riddle and himself—Dumbledore was too straight-laced to discover the Room of Hidden Things, but I don't believe it. Maybe as a student, but as a teacher and Headmaster? We know that Dumbledore hides things.

The belief that Western wizards were never really harmed in the Inquisition/Reformation era, and that the Statute of Secrecy was meant to keep wizards from being pestered by Muggles for magic solutions, is something that is in the early books, told to Harry by Ron Weasley and claimed to be in A History of Magic. Fantastic Beasts retcons it, and frankly, I like the FB version much more because it is more realistic and morally complicated. But for a false belief to take hold in Britain in the canon timeline means that there were parties heavily invested in pushing it… such as Bagshot (definitely) and Weasleys (probably). I do think that Bagshot's history book is an attempt to distance herself from Grindelwald, including from his (correct) contention that Muggles could harm wizards.

There will be two more chapters of this plot arc. As hinted, the Riddles—all of them—are going to Wizarding Boston and then to Albania.