"Disillusionment Charm!"
Phineas hurriedly cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself. At this time of night, only one cat roamed the corridors of Hogwarts—Filch's Mrs. Norris, a cat as vigilant and rule-obsessed as her master.
"Ah, dear, is there a little wizard here?"
As expected, Filch's grating voice followed shortly after.
Phineas waited silently. Once he was certain Filch was alone, he continued on toward the Room of Requirement.
At Hogwarts, the biggest school rule was this: there are no school rules. As long as you're not caught, it doesn't count as breaking them. This philosophy often encouraged young wizards to test their magical abilities even as they bent the rules.
Arriving at the eighth floor, Phineas paused in front of the hideous, drooling statue that marked the entrance to the Headmaster's office. It was grotesquely ugly, and Phineas strongly suspected it had some measure of awareness, just like the portraits.
Every time he passed here—especially at night—he slowed down and reapplied the Disillusionment Charm, unwilling to risk discovery.
Although he trusted Professor Dumbledore, the greatest protector he could rely on for now, Phineas was still cautious around him. As a seasoned Legilimens, Dumbledore was someone you didn't want reading your mind casually. A safe distance was always best.
Fortunately, everything went smoothly. Phineas made it back to his cozy Room of Requirement haven without incident.
He flopped onto the large bed at the center of the room and exhaled deeply. Ever since overhearing that tense conversation between Snape and Jonathan, he had been on edge.
If either of them thought Phineas had learned something he shouldn't have, silencing him wouldn't be out of the question.
He might be a skilled young wizard, but they were adults—dangerous ones at that. One had been Voldemort's trusted follower, inventor of the Shadowless Blade, a dark arts genius whose spells required special counter-magic. The other had a mysterious identity that even made Snape uneasy. Based on their conversation, Jonathan hadn't been hired—he was invited by Dumbledore, suggesting a power and status close to the Headmaster's own.
If these two decided he needed to disappear, he wouldn't stand a chance.
Thankfully, he'd made it out safely.
Now, his mind returned to Ravenclaw's words:
Extraordinary wisdom is the greatest wealth of mankind.
That phrase appeared everywhere—in the bronze eagle knocker at the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower, on the base of her statue, on her lost diadem, and even on some of her personal books.
Recently, Phineas had even snuck into the Restricted Section of the library to look for clues. There were many books associated with Ravenclaw, but nothing concrete.
In truth, the Restricted Section wasn't filled solely with dark magic tomes. Many ordinary, even academic, books were shelved there. For instance, Legilimency and Occlumency texts were kept there, but could be borrowed with a professor's approval. Meanwhile, more dangerous material, such as Advanced Dark Arts, was truly off-limits.
Oddly, some innocuous potion recipes were restricted while more potent elixirs were not. The selection seemed to reflect the personal tastes of past Headmasters as much as any real security policy.
Ultimately, Phineas found nothing useful regarding Ravenclaw's treasure. The phrase seemed to be just that—a phrase. It wasn't a spell, a clue, or a password. He even began to doubt whether the diadem was key to the treasure. After all, Tom Riddle had once tricked Helena into giving him the diadem, yet he was never rumored to be Ravenclaw's heir.
Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets had required Parseltongue to enter. The other three founders hadn't left behind similarly clear entry methods. Phineas briefly considered giving up.
He slumped into bed, defeated.
"Meow~"
Chocolate tilted his head, staring curiously at his disheartened owner. The little cat leapt from his nearby cat tower onto the bed, licking Phineas' face with a tiny pink tongue.
"Chocolate, stop it. I'm annoyed."
"Meow~"
"I don't mean I'm annoyed with you… I'm just annoyed…"
Phineas sat up, gathering Chocolate into his arms and stroking him slowly.
"What do you think she meant, Chocolate? That extraordinary wisdom is the greatest wealth of mankind?"
"Meow?"
Chocolate tilted his head in confusion.
Phineas sighed bitterly.
"Yeah, I figured you wouldn't know either."
Still, the phrase stuck in his mind. It wasn't about "the greatest wealth." The focus had to be on "extraordinary wisdom." After all, Ravenclaw was renowned for her intellect.
Extraordinary wisdom…
He kept repeating the phrase under his breath, and suddenly, inspiration struck.
Ravenclaw was the only House at Hogwarts whose common room didn't require a password. Instead, anyone—no matter their House—could enter by correctly answering the bronze knocker's question.
Wasn't that what Ravenclaw meant?
The bronze eagle served as a gatekeeper, filtering for those who possessed extraordinary wisdom.
Smiling faintly, Phineas finally drifted into sleep, hand still resting gently on Chocolate.
The small cat looked up at him, sighed in a very humanlike manner, then tugged a quilt over his master with his mouth before returning to his own mat and curling up.
If Chocolate could talk, who knows what kind of complaints he would've had about his owner falling asleep mid-sentence.
---
The next morning, warm sunlight poured through the enchanted window of the Room of Requirement. It filtered through the sky-blue quilt, painting it gold.
The light caressed Phineas' cheek like a mother's hand, rousing him gently from slumber.
It was Tuesday. Only one Transfiguration class in the afternoon.
Perfect time to test whether his theory about Ravenclaw's wisdom was right.