I became Voldemort

Chapter 161: Seeking The Athenaeum

While Cyrus stayed in the Room of Requirement, Hogwarts was hosting the first Quidditch match of the school year.

Quidditch was undoubtedly the most popular sport in the wizarding world, with nearly the entire school attending each game.

Cyrus wasn't particularly interested in Quidditch, having already experienced it once and found his enthusiasm for it waning.

However, he could use this day to conduct a thorough search of Hogwarts!

The weather had been quite cool these past few days.

After Sirius Black's case was overturned, the Ministry of Magic hadn't sent the Dementors back to Azkaban. There was still another troublesome fugitive on the loose, and Peter Pettigrew had taken Sirius's place as the most wanted.

But the Dementors near Hogwarts had been taken away. With Sirius's innocence proven, everyone believed no one would harm Harry Potter anymore.

Peter Pettigrew might have the idea, but no one thought he had the guts to return to Hogwarts.

The match hadn't started yet, but the atmosphere on the field was already very lively.

Under the leaden clouds, the cheers rose wave after wave.

From a distant grey window, Cyrus looked toward the Quidditch pitch. His sharp vision allowed him to see the situation on the field clearly.

Dumbledore sat steadily on the high platform. In the professors' seats, Sirius and Snape were at each other's throats, with the mild-mannered Lupin serving as their mediator.

Of course, Snape didn't care about any of this; he was like a venomous snake, freely spewing his poison.

Almost no one dared to suggest they be more harmonious. To Snape, Lupin and Sirius were the ones who almost got him killed. To Sirius, the prank back then might have gone too far, but let's not forget Snape's identity—

He had been a Death Eater, and even during his school years, he was already a Death Eater in training.

After graduation, Snape had become a highly capable subordinate of Voldemort, and many had died at his hands.

From this perspective, Sirius only regretted not killing Snape during their school years.

The clouds churned, threatening an impending cold rain.

However, Cyrus knew that the rain wouldn't dampen the young wizards' enthusiasm, not even Snape's, who took Quidditch matches very seriously.

Cyrus wandered slowly through the castle. Of course, he wasn't foolish enough to use his true appearance; the castle's statues were still there, and Filch was still patrolling. He had cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, ensuring that no one would notice his presence.

Even Mrs. Norris, when she passed by him, didn't catch his scent.

After being identified by Sirius in Hogsmeade, Cyrus had become very mindful of his scent.

"Where could the Athenaeum be located?"

As a key structure for protecting ancient magic, Cyrus didn't believe the Athenaeum would be in some inconspicuous corner.

Perhaps there was another hidden chamber within the castle?

Speaking of hidden chambers, Cyrus first thought of the Chamber of Secrets, but he didn't believe the Athenaeum would be located there. Opening the Chamber required Parseltongue, but the four guardians of ancient magic did not have that ability.

Another special room was the Room of Requirement.

Before he knew it, Cyrus was walking in the corridor on the seventh floor, passing the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.

"Can there be a door to lead me to the Athenaeum like the Room of Requirement?"

As the most magical room in Hogwarts, the Room of Requirement was far more wondrous than the Chamber of Secrets. Moreover, the Room of Requirement truly lived up to its name, helping Harry, Draco, and even Voldemort significantly.

Last year, Cyrus had also completed the creation of the Philosopher's Stone here.

"Since the Athenaeum is located within Hogwarts, perhaps there should be a door like the door of the ROR that can take me directly to that place."

Cyrus hesitated for a few seconds, feeling the Galleon in his pocket burning as if it were on fire, nearly scorching his skin.

"Dumbledore should take some time to get from the first floor to the seventh. I can try this out first!"

Cyrus returned to his starting position and began pacing with his eyes closed:

"Take me to the Athenaeum."

"Take me to the Athenaeum."

"Take me to the Athenaeum."

After three passes, a wooden door appeared on the once barren wall. Cyrus found it vaguely familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before. Without overthinking it, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Cyrus pushed open the familiar-looking door and stepped into a dark space.

Rows upon rows of bookshelves stood tall in the darkness like the walls of a maze.

"The library?"

Cyrus was very familiar with this place.

In his memories, Tom Riddle often absorbed knowledge in the library, and last year, Cyrus frequently wandered around the Restricted Section.

"Did it open the library because it aligns with the concept of seeking knowledge?" Cyrus was a bit puzzled.

Naturally, Cyrus hadn't mastered all the magical knowledge in the library, but compared to these modern spells, he was more interested in ancient magic.

It's not that the magic here was useless; quite the opposite. The Hogwarts library contained many ancient tomes, but the vast majority were modern magical texts collected over the past century.

"Finding the Athenaeum this way might be impossible," Cyrus thought, planning to leave.

However, as he was about to step out of the library, he paused.

What if the Athenaeum was located within the library itself?

Perhaps the door hadn't misinterpreted the concept of the Athenaeum and mistakenly brought Cyrus here; rather, the Athenaeum itself might be hidden somewhere within the library!

He turned around and gazed at the rows of bookshelves standing like giants in the dimly lit library, guarding the knowledge of magic.

"If there's a place in the library that holds secrets, it can only be the Restricted Section!" Cyrus's eyes lit up. Without hesitation, he made his way towards the Restricted Section.

The isolation spells of the Restricted Section were meaningless to him; getting into the Restricted Section was easier than walking in the corridor!

The Hogwarts library was vast, enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm.

A millennium's worth of books was gathered here, and amidst the vast sea of books, anyone would be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of knowledge.

Cyrus wandered around, ascending and descending several staircases, until he finally stood before a wall.

Without a second thought, he waved his wand.

"Revelio!"

The power of ancient magic spread out, and the wall before Cyrus turned into something ephemeral, collapsing instantly.

A bluish-gray archway appeared before him.

Stepping through the archway, Cyrus found himself on an ancient, dilapidated yet grand road.

The once smooth road was now cracked in places, and Cyrus couldn't tell if this was due to the passage of time or the intent of the guardians.

However, the golden embellishments along the edges of the road remained resplendent.

He continued walking forward, feeling as though he had entered a place completely disconnected from Hogwarts.

The castle's usual dim but warm hues had turned cold and desolate.

Except for the path beneath his feet, the ceiling above bore no signs of decoration.

The expansive gray cavern felt lonely, his footsteps echoing endlessly, spreading into the unknown.

"Silencio."

He cast a spell to erase all sound from himself. Though his footsteps were already light, any noise in this vast cavern would be magnified infinitely.

He traversed several narrow stone bridges and square arenas that seemed to be dueling grounds.

The ruins of shattered stone guardians lay scattered in every corner, killed by magic. Cyrus immediately recognized the signs of the Killing Curse.

His brow furrowed, and a sense of unease settled in his heart.

The magical power on the curse had not yet dissipated, indicating it had been cast recently.

This meant someone had found the Athenaeum before Cyrus!

But who could it be?

The secrets of the Athenaeum and ancient magic had remained unsolved for centuries. Cyrus couldn't think of anyone else who could find this place.

And just at this particular moment!

"The only person I can think of who would use the Killing Curse on a few stone statues is one."

Cyrus was referring, of course, to Voldemort, who had indeed shown a keen interest in ancient magic.

What puzzled Cyrus was how Voldemort had managed to find the Athenaeum first. Regardless, of whoever stood in his way, Cyrus was ready for a fight.

He tightened his grip on his wand and pressed forward.

After several more turns, Cyrus entered a room containing a Pensieve.

This room was much smaller than the vault and lacked any excess mechanisms.

However, it presented a greater challenge.

A small figure slowly lifted an old, ugly head from the Pensieve. His eyes were unique, with black sclera and blood-red irises.

This was a face both unfamiliar and familiar to Cyrus. Though it was their first meeting, Cyrus recognized him immediately.

"Goblin, Ranrok?"

How could this hundred-year-old specter be here?

Back in Vault 12, Rookwood had mentioned that a goblin had once reached the deepest part of the vault.

However, they had not revealed the secrets of ancient magic to him and had activated the defensive magic instead.

Cyrus had thought Ranrok had perished at the hands of the massive statue, but to his surprise, the goblin was still alive. 

No, something was off!

Cyrus squinted, his golden eyes piercing through the darkness like a sun.

This Ranrok seemed... off.

He didn't appear truly alive; rather, he seemed to exist on the boundary between life and death.

His body looked utterly exhausted, yet it was unnaturally sustained, forced to live on by some other power.

"I'm glad you're not completely foolish." Ranrok's mouth twisted into a beastly grin.

"Voldemort?!"

Cyrus finally understood.

It seemed Voldemort had possessed Ranrok's body. But where had he found this century-old specter?

As a magical creature, a goblin living for over a hundred years didn't surprise Cyrus. These greedy parasites often lived past two hundred.

What did surprise him was that Ranrok had been missing for over a century, and yet Voldemort had managed to locate his body.

Moreover, in Voldemort's current state, he couldn't possess just anyone.

Just like Cyrus when he was in the diary, Voldemort first had to make someone completely open their heart to him, willingly exposing their most vulnerable parts, before he could possess their body.

Cyrus didn't believe that someone like Ranrok would willingly submit to Voldemort.

"I told you I'd return, Cyrus," sneered Ranrok—or rather, Voldemort.

He was clad in heavy armor, his cracked and grayed fingernails clutching an ancient book.

Upon seeing Cyrus, the book seemed to vanish as if it had Disapparated.

After a brief moment of surprise, Cyrus immediately came to his senses and said sarcastically:

"Is this what you meant by returning, standing before me in such a pitiful state?"

He wanted to know how Voldemort had found Ranrok's body and the book that had just disappeared was clearly significant, likely containing ancient magical knowledge. But now, it was in Voldemort's possession.

Gotta get that book back!

Cyrus narrowed his eyes, watching Voldemort intently. His muscles tensed beneath his robe, his wand ready to be drawn. If Voldemort showed any sign of weakness, Cyrus would strike without hesitation!

"Yes, indeed," Voldemort responded, this time not losing his composure. He seemed to think that he should display some of the dignity and poise befitting his true self, so he spoke frankly, "I must admit, it is indeed a disgrace for the Dark Lord to rely on a lowly goblin. But isn't this much better than my time in Albania?"

He reached out and knocked on the silver-black armor that was as rugged as the bone spurs of a fire dragon, and said, "But you have to admit that even this ugliest and most despicable race has its merits. They have the ability to cast spells, and can create a set of armor like this that can enhance magic power!"

Before his words had fully settled, Voldemort made the first move.

He raised his palm, and the armor flashed with a blood-red light!

A Dark Magic attack immediately shot out from his palm.

It appeared as a mass of black mist, yet within the mist, there were ominous flashes of red light—

Cyrus didn't hesitate. He drew his wand and with a flick of his wrist, cast a spell that dispersed the black mist.

Voldemort, however, did not continue his assault. It seemed as though he was merely demonstrating his current power to Cyrus.

"More importantly, this goblin is special. He can see the ancient magic's—" Voldemort lifted his hideous chin, pausing for a moment, his face full of smugness, "how did they put it—'Echoes'."

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