The search for the diadem continues!

We're coming into the story's final stretch. Next we have final exams, then the gauntlet, and Voldemort. We'll have a few chapters of cool down, but once they're all done, this first installment of Dauntless will be finished.

So without anymore dilly dally, let's continue.

—0—

Hermione rolled her wand slowly between her fingers, looking down once more upon the faces of Rowena and Helena Ravenclaw.

She was currently standing within the Astronomy tower, looking for the section of the tower where the photograph was taken.

And so far, she had had no luck finding it.

Frustrating.

Still, she could tell that it had to be somewhere within the tower. The windows in the picture matched this section of the castle, and the banner in the upper right corner of the image was the schools coat of arms.

The young witch sighed and shook her head, before moving up another level.

Hermione always had to marvel at the sheer size of Hogwarts. Even for only having some small rooms, the Astronomy tower was still quite high, and there were bridges that connected each floor to different corridors.

Hermione blinked as she reached the fourth floor. There were supposed to be bridges on each floor. For some reason, there wasn't one here, which was quite odd.

Hermione's brow furrowed as she looked around the room. A few bookcases, a window, a small table and two stools, the stairs to the next floor… and a tapestry displaying-

"Ravens" Hermione breathed, running her hand down the massive piece of artwork. The background was blue, with black trees and a black hillside. A flock of ravens dominated the top of the tapestry, flying about in a great storm of black feathers.

"How could anyone miss this…" Hermione blinked. She tried everything she could think of on the artwork. The revealing charm, moving it, walking through it, even burning it.

"It must hold some secret. Oh!" Hermione grit her teeth in frustration. "What's your riddle you stupid thing!"

To her surprise, a voice answered back.

"You wish to answer the riddle?"

Hermione stared at the tapestry as one raven's beak moved with the voice.

"W-what?"

"You wish to answer the riddle?" The tapestry repeated.

"Oh… yes, YES! What is the riddle?" Hermione could have jumped for joy. She was so close!

"Very well… a man stands before a painting. He speaks plainly 'brothers and sisters have I none, but the man in this painting is my father's son. Who is in the painting?"

"The painting is of the man himself." Hermione nodded.

"Well done keeping up. You are allowed entry."

Hermione smiled as the tapestry melted away, along with the wall behind it, revealing a large door outside, just like the other floors.

Opening the door, Hermione found that she was in a small windowed tunnel, which was created by the large stone bridge to the fifth floor, and the roof of the bridge going to the third floor.

"Nobody would be able to see me here… I'm invisible to them." Hermione whispered to herself, watching the students in the central courtyard. She could see a few slytherin boys walking together. Two boys with the red Gryffindor trim on their robes were levitating stones, while a Hufflepuff student sat in a corner, reading a book.

Hermione blinked and turned away from the window, looking down the corridor bridge to the door at the end.

"I wonder…"

The young ravenclaw walked forwards and turned the brass door knob, opening the wooden door with a loud squeak. The noise made Hermione cringe, but after a second of listening, she deduced that nobody else heard the noise.

Behind the door lay a strange room. It was as large as the defense against the dark arts classroom, but was divided up into different sections. It was also quite tall, taller than Hermione thought possible, especially with the floors above and below.

"Like a palace bedroom…"

Hermione walked through the room, looking at the layer of dust that had settled upon the furniture. A table with two chairs and a rather beat up looking third chair sat at the nearest corner of the room. Upon the table was a single glass bowl, but nothing else. A few feet away from the table was a fireplace and several stone cupboards. Hermione opened one tio find a strange contraption nestled within.

It was made of metal, and had two mechanical legs in the front, with two wheels in the back. The body of the machine was rather disproportionate. It looked almost like a large tea kettle. Hermione blinked, before closing the door to the cupboard and looking around some more.

Beyond the fireplace and strange robots, there was a large sitting area which contained a decaying couch and a broken coffee table. A few fallen apart books and scattered pages lay around the table, making Hermione wonder what had happened to create such a mess.

Along the wall of the sitting area was a large array of bookshelves, holding a number of cracking book bindings and dried out tomes. Hermione stopped herself from rushing to the collection, it would have to wait.

On the far side of the room sat a large king size four poster bed, complete with some moth-eaten curtains and bedding. On either side of the bed were a few bits of furniture meant for holding clothing and such. An armoire, a series of dresser drawers, a standing closet, a trunk.

Hermione's focus rested on the dresser drawers. Atop the surface of the large carved dresser sat a series of small boxes and cases, among which was a larger, more plain wooden chest.

Everything else upon the dresser was decorated with gems or watercolor paints, all beautiful hues and dazzling purity, but Hermione knew better. As her hands drifted to the box, she heard a voice from behind her.

"Mother would have liked you…"

Hermione whirled around to see the spectral form of a woman she had seen many times.

"Of course… how could I have been so blind."

The ghost smiled, a wonder to those who only knew her from the Ravenclaw common room. She was the house ghost, like Gryffindors ghost of Sir Nicholas, or The Fat Friar, from Hufflepuff. The Gray Lady sighed as she hovered over to Hermione's side.

"A tragedy… my mothers diadem. You know, you are the first to find this place. You would technically be the rightful owner of her treasure…"

"Would be?" Hermione blinked. "Is it not here?"

The ghost of Helena Ravenclaw gave a sad smile. "When I still lived, I fell in love with a very brave man from the house of Salazar… Mother believed that he was after her diadem you see. For all of her knowledge, she had begun to lose her mind in her elder years… The curse of having power, you watch yourself lose the things that you love…"

"The four founders… you knew them." Hermione blinked, turning to the shade.

Helena chuckled. "I did. They all met their fates in the end, although I only heard of it from the elves after my death… you see, I ran from the castle that night, when my mother lost her head while the Baron was here…"

"The Baron… as in The Bloody Baron?" Hermione asked.

"Ah yes, quite the amount of wit you have. Mother would definitely have liked you…" Helena smiled, bringing her hand up and caressing Hermione's cheek. The girl shuddered.

"Cold…"

"Because of the argument that ensued, I ended up taking the diadem then and there. I was sick of what it had caused her to become… I ran and ran, into the forest, and I hid where the Baron and I met. It was our, special place…"

Hermione blinked as the ghost smiled into the air, recalling a distant memory. "What happened next?"

"The Baron found me, an hour later. He had finished arguing with my mother, and had learned that she had poisoned her diadem. It was a topical poison, meant to last upon the diadem for a mere twenty four hours. It was to protect the diadem from the Baron, and teach me a lesson if he truly was after it… but he was not." Helena smiled. "The poison had no cure. It would cause an unspeakably painful death… I hid the diadem in a hollow tree, and in deep sorrow, the Baron put a swift end to my life."

"He killed you?" Hermione gawked.

"He gave me mercy. It was my mother who truly killed me. Her actions and degrading mental state… Efter granting me a swift and painless end, he stabbed himself, joining me as a ghost of the castle."

Hermione shook her head. "I had no idea…"

"Many many many years later, a young man came to me. He sought to find the diadem, and he had learned my secret. In exchange for keeping my true identity a secret, I showed him the location of the diadem… but he betrayed my trust. He tainted my mothers diadem, the very object that had caused my family so much pain. He turned it to shadow…"

"So this man has it now?"

"Oh no. He hid it in this very castle." The ghost shook her head. "If you should still choose to seek it, I cannot stop you. You are the rightful owner of the diadem, as you passed my mothers test."

"The riddle was… outdated."

"It has been more than a thousand years," The ghost chuckled. "Nobody has even found the secret of the tapestry, except for you that is. Everything within this room is now yours to own. The books, the furniture, even the living space. Do with it what you will."

"But… the diadem." Hermione pressed.

"Seek the place where all lost things go." Helena smiled. "There. I still find myself quite good at riddles… I wish you luck, little raven."

And with that, the ghost floated away, through the walls of the castle, leaving Hermione alone in the dilapidated room.

"The place where all lost things go…"

—0—

"Alchemy again Merlot?"

"Hey, last time it was accidental!" The girl huffed. "I wasn't trying to combine the items into one, it just happened. This time, I know what I'm doing."

"And that is?" Hannah raised an eyebrow as she let her head rest upon the back of her chair.

"Making Quintessence."

"A perfect quality?"

"In alchemy, Quintessence is a transmuted liquid made up of Dragon Saliva, iron powder, silver filings, bone dust, and blood." Merlot nodded. "It is an essential ingredient for many higher level transmutations."

"Sounds delicious." Hannah squinched up her nose. "Just don't drink it around me, okay?"

Merlot rolled her eyes and returned to drawing the chalk transmutation circle from her Alchemy Books guidelines. "And what about you Hannah, what are you working on?"

The young witch gave a proud humph and held up a black diary. "Since you are finding runes to be so interesting, I thought I might try my hand at them. And no, I want to do this on my own."

"Suit yourself." Merlot shrugged. "Just remember to study Abernathy's variation before making a runic array."

"Abernathy's variation?"

"Should be on page thirty seven of Dierdre Choosoo's guide to ancient texts." Merlot nodded, closing the transmutation circle. "Just a heads up, you may want to cover your eyes."

Hannah rolled her eyes and turned as she spoke. "Why would I need to close my eyes when read-"

Unbeknownst to Hannah, Merlot had been channeling magic into her transmutation circle. There were protections built in for the heat and magical shockwave produced by the magical science, but there was nothing to prevent the brilliant flash of light that temporarily blinded hannah Abbott.

"Oh… that's why…"

"HANNAH! Oh my goodness, are you okay?"

Hannah held a thumbs up. "I'm perfectly fine, aside from seeing only fireworks."

"I'm on the other side of you." merlot sweatdropped. "This isn't good… should I take you to the hospital wing?"

Hannah blinked a few times and shook her head. "It's calming down now. I can see your outline."

"Oh thank goodness." Merlot breathed.

"So, did it work?" Hannah asked. Merlot turned to her transmutation and let out a cheer. "I assume that's a yes."

"I DID IT! I MADE QUINTESSENCE!" Merlot cheered, picking up the large erlenmeyer flask that was filled with roughly half a litre of shimmering blue liquid. "I've got to do more… Maybe I can figure out a way to make the components of orichalcum and then synthesize my own samples!"

Hannah turned back to her desk and rubbed her eyes, squinting down at her book as her vision slowly cleared. "Just give me a better warning next time, whatever you do. And please, don't blow us up."

"IT WAS ONE TIME!"

—0—

Ron sighed as he lay in his room. He was alone for the day, everyone was out studying or doing some fun activity. It was getting close to the end of the school year, and with the quidditch season over, Madam Hooch was doing flying drills for anyone who wanted to try their hand on a broom.

Ron didn't want to go anymore. Ever since the idiotic plan that Percy hatched, he had been given the blame for the loss of house points. It was easy for Percy, the perfect prefect, to twist the story to convince the rest of the house. Only Fred and George knew Ron was innocent. There were, of course, a few other members of the quidditch team. They knew that Percy had worked with Wood, so they believed Ron.

He was with McGonnagal at the match. He had just finished his first additional lesson with her, which was quite interesting. It was all about the extension of Gamp's law in relation to beginner level transfigurations. Ron had found why Seamus had been unsuccessful at turning water into rum so many times. It was basic science at its core. He simply needed to use something like pumpkin juice. It had sugar within it already, which put it somewhat on par with Rum's qualities. Adding the additional property of alcohol in with the change of pumpkin to molasses was quite easy after that, although he had to promise McGonagall not to use the spell to drink excessively.

That didn't change the fact that the rest of the house was against him. Ron was beginning to get scared of walking around the school now. He had endured enough hexes and well hidden jinxes to know he was unwanted. He feared that if he went to fly on the quidditch pitch, he might be killed by a student who wanted another jab at him.

'Of course, maybe then mum would feel bad… probably not.'

The redhead sighed and stood up from his bed. Lately, the room had been quite empty. Dean and Seamus spent their time with other Gryffindors, and slept over in their dorms. Ron had been alone in this room every night for the last two weeks.

Granted, that made him feel a bit more at ease. Two of the Gryffindors that had taken to jinxing him quite stealthily. At least they wouldn't be a danger while he slept.

But now he didn't have anything to distract himself from the voices of the spiders. There were around seven different webs around the dormitory, each with their own collection of arachnids. Ron had been hearing them ever since the forbidden forest. Dean and Seamus had drowned the creatures whispers out with their practice of magic.

"Flesh… tasty fleshhh…"

Ron rolled his eyes and looked up at the web that hung from the top of the dormitory window. "Could you quiet it down a bit?"

"Hm… two legger wishes me to be quiet? Two legger can hear me…"

Ron shuddered at the raspy whispers. That had been new. Whatever the arrow had done to make the spiders understand him back, he was not sure how to feel about it.

"Yeah, I can hear you, and I think that talking with your mouth full is incredibly impolite."

The spider let out a raspy laugh. "Very well two legger… I shall keep my joyous feast to myself."

"Do that then. Maybe I can bring you a few bugs when they come out in the spring." Ron nodded.

"Of course…"

Ron turned and walked to the small desk at his bedside, pulling out a roll of parchment. If he had time, he may as well begin looking into the next subject that the transfigurations mistress had spoken of, which was shape theory.

Simply put, it was easier to turn something into another thing if they had a similar shape. An acorn into a bumblebee for example. It wasn't necessary for transfiguration, but it did help with reducing magical strain.

"How is it you speak the language of silk?"

Ron looked up from his writing. He had only gotten through his starting paragraph when the voice had approached him, but it was different from other spiders he had met. Beside his well of ink was a smaller arachnid, its legs semi transparent, showing that it was rather young.

"You heard me speaking to the one in the window?"

"Name is Dewdrop." The spider nodded. "We call him that because his web gets drops from the cold windows."

Ron nodded. "I wasn't aware that spiders had names."

"Everything has a name." The spider spoke back. Ron noted that its voice was also different from the others he had heard. It wasn't as raspy, more… elegant. Perhaps because of its youth.

"Indeed… what is your name, little one?"

"Name is Nib. Mother named us from the drawers of the kingdom of books."

"Nib." Ron nodded. "Like a quill."

"Yes! Although I wish I could share the name of the brave one. Mother named one of my brothers after him."

"The brave one?"

"Oh yes, the brave rat king! My brother king now lives in the library, and speaks with him whenever they meet. Or at least, I think they do. Have not been back to the birthweb in fourteen darklights."

"Dark lights?"

"It gets dark out, and then light." The spider explained.

Ron nodded. "I see. We call those days."

"Days?"

"And when it's dark out, it is called night."

"Interesting. I have much to learn… I am glad that mother sent me to the house of lions. I had no idea there was a man child man who knew the language of silk." The spider scuttled over to the small shelf that hung over the desk and began weaving an intricate web in the corner.

"What are you doing?"

"I wish to live here. Speak more with you, and learn many things."

Ron went to protest, but stopped himself. He found that this spider was actually nice to talk to. It didn't speak of eating living insects or dissecting its prey. It was curious, and it had stories of its own.

"So tell me now… how do you know the language of silk?"

Ron smiled and put down his quill. "It's a bit of a long story, you see… I've always heard spiders, but they couldn't hear me. It actually terrified me a bit. Growing up, all I heard was whispers of killing things and eating them alive."

"The hunt is always a thrill…"

"Please keep your hunting words to a minimum when I am here." Ron smiled. "They still send a chill down my spine."

"I will do my best. Continue with your tale."

"Well, I found a book on how to guard one's mind in my dads room. We're a poor family, but we are from old blood." Ron nodded, leaning back. "I of course, am not a master in the subject, but I learned enough to suppress the voices from the spiders."

"You quieted your gift?"

"It was less of a gift at the time. Believe me, it was sheer bliss to know peace when you've only heard of murder each night for eight years." Ron chuckled. "But a little more than a month ago, that changed. Something destroyed my hold on the magic, and I started hearing the voices again, only this time, they heard me too."

"Interesting… what is a month?"

Ron blinked at the spider, who had crawled to the corner of her web and nestled herself down into the fresh silk.

"This is going to take longer than I expected…"

—0—

And there we have it! A bit more on ron. A bit from Hermione, a secret room which I had a lot of fun working on when it came to mapping Hogwarts, especially in the DND map.

Diving a bit into alchemy. I have a few things that are commonly known as transition metals. Orichalcum, Cinnabryl, Adamantium. There are a few magic metals that are more well known. But, there aren't enough that I can't make my own. One would think that the ability to synthesize materials through magic would yield an infinite number of potential outcomes, and that would be correct. Because of this, I have to make new things, thus Quintessence, and Enamour. Although, I did get Enamour from Doctor Who, at least, the concept of it.

There are more things that'll be coming. Leave a review, your feedback keeps me going. We're in the final stretch now.

Until next time, Adios.