For the next week, except for an occasional trip home, Tver spent his days in Knockturn Alley studying the artifacts in his possession.
A Diadem, a Philosopher's Stone, and a ring set with a Resurrection Stone.
Each was a priceless treasure, famous throughout the wizarding world. Selling even one could have earned enough to transform the Weasleys' situation. Yet to him, their research value outweighed any amount of gold.
Even so, after an entire week of study, he and Marvolio had made no real progress.
First came the Diadem.
Tver tried once more to place it on his head.
...
"Fairy tales are all lies!"
Ten minutes later, he threw the Diadem down on the table in frustration, where Marvolio caught it with ease.
"If this Diadem were truly useful, my original self wouldn't have turned it into a Horcrux," Marvolio sneered.
"With that brain of yours, it's no surprise you'd turn a relic like this into one," Tver retorted.
Given Voldemort's temperament, it wasn't impossible he'd made a Horcrux out of a magical artifact like the Diadem.
"Hey, don't mix us up," Marvolio tossed the Diadem back to him. "That was Tom Riddle's doing. What does that have to do with me, Marvolio?"
Tver gave him a silent glare, running his fingers over the restored, intricate Diadem.
Time had left no trace upon it. With the soul fragment gone, the crown gleamed as brilliantly as it must have a thousand years ago—though he couldn't be sure it had ever truly looked like this.
The inscription beneath the crown was still perfectly legible:
"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."
To put it bluntly, every Ravenclaw knew that motto. The problem was that he still had no idea how to actually use it.
"If you can't figure it out, just let it go," Marvolio said, picking up the Philosopher's Stone and rolling it between his fingers. "Better to study this one. At least the magic in it is real."
He grabbed a small iron spoon from the table and carefully set the Philosopher's Stone on one end.
...
Tver couldn't help laughing. "So, what did you learn? You can't even activate the life force inside it!"
Marvolio's face reddened. Imitating Tver, he tossed the Philosopher's Stone onto the table, where it landed beside the Diadem.
That very motion caused a faint thread of life force to extend from the Stone to the Diadem, releasing a weak magical ripple.
It was as subtle as a spring breeze, but neither Tver nor Marvolio were ordinary wizards. Both immediately turned their attention to the Diadem.
"It's absorbing life force, but still no magical feedback," Marvolio said after a moment of observation, frowning deeply.
In fact, there wasn't just no feedback—the absorbed vitality seemed to vanish entirely, as though what they'd just witnessed had been an illusion. The Diadem looked exactly as it had before.
"At least that's some kind of change. Better than having no leads at all," Tver said.
"I remember the Diadem being placed with the Philosopher's Stone before. Why is it only reacting now?"
"That's for you to answer. What did you just do?"
Marvolio froze, thinking back to his actions.
"I simply channeled a bit of the Stone's life force, the same way I did when shaping my body—only this time, not to absorb it."
So, the Diadem was absorbing life force too... reviving itself?
Could it be that the soul of Ravenclaw still lingered within it?
The thought startled Tver.
Marvolio seemed to realize the same thing, but as the only wizard known to have ever created a Horcrux, he was the first to dismiss the idea outright.
"If there really was a soul inside, my late brother wouldn't have failed to notice.
And you probably don't know what it feels like to inhabit a Horcrux—it's like having absolute control over the object, being able to sense every inch of it, no blind spots."
Tver snapped back to his senses, realizing he'd let his imagination run wild. Ravenclaw's Diadem couldn't possibly be a Horcrux; he would've discovered it long ago.
And judging by his encounter with Helga, the Founders clearly disdained using such lowly methods to pursue immortality.
But—
"Of course I don't know what it feels like to be inside a Horcrux, and I've got no desire to find out," he said irritably, rising to his feet.
He swept the items from the table into his wallet, setting the Diadem and the Philosopher's Stone carefully into a separate pouch.
"Hey, hey! That ring was my vessel for ages—you could at least handle it a little more gently," Marvolio complained.
Tver ignored him. This resurrected fragment of soul had turned oddly sentimental, constantly whining and dragging things out.
"Come on. Let's go pick up Burke's crystal."
As he moved, his face slowly shifted, reforming into Dumbledore's features once more.
"After seeing so much magic by your side, my biggest regret is never taking Transfiguration seriously," Marvolio muttered.
Tver replied as they walked out, "Aren't you formed from life force? Can't you just mold yourself a different face?"
"I can only follow the shape of the soul—make myself younger, or look like that bald head on the Diadem."
...
Borgin and Burke's.
When the two arrived, the shop had just opened.
"My apologies, Mr. Percival. I haven't been sleeping well lately—been a bit drowsy," Burke greeted them with a broad smile.
After spending some time dealing with him, he'd realized that this Mr. Percival was actually quite kind. At least he paid well—and paid a lot.
"Are you implying we're disturbing your beauty sleep?" Marvolio shot back sharply from behind Tver, glaring at him.
Well, this Mr. Marvolio was not nearly as polite.
"We were at fault last time. I didn't expect the protection spells to weaken a bit because of the wall," Tver said pleasantly. "But it won't happen again."
"I never blamed you," Burke said quickly, bowing with a flattered expression. "As for your commission—it's ready."
He briskly moved to the counter and pulled out a small pouch. "Here are two crystals. Please, inspect them."
Before Tver could reach for it, Marvolio snatched it first, pouring the two gleaming crystals into his palm.
"Not bad," he said, narrowing his eyes with satisfaction as he felt the defensive magic within them. "Though the protection's a bit weak."
He immediately began muttering with Burke in low tones.
Meanwhile, Tver's attention had shifted to the black cabinet standing nearby. He studied it with interest.
If he wasn't mistaken, it was a Vanishing Cabinet—a magical artifact that had all but vanished from the wizarding world. With the right spell, it could open a passage connecting two distant places.
But because it was fragile and easily damaged—and because Apparition had become so common—Vanishing Cabinets had nearly disappeared from use.
Tver didn't fully understand the magic behind them, any more than he understood why Harry Potter had once appeared inside one.
"This must be a broken Vanishing Cabinet, right?" he asked, pointing at it.
"Of course," Burke said at once, breaking off his talk with Marvolio. "We've no idea where its matching cabinet went!"
Sensing the quickening breaths coming from inside, Tver smirked and rapped his knuckles lightly on the wood.
"Interesting. I wonder if it's for sale?"
Recalling the movie's events, he instantly realized why Harry had shown up here.
Burke's jaw dropped in shock, but Marvolio spoke before he could. "Why would you want that thing? It's unsafe and impractical."
"Just a whim," Tver shrugged. "If you ever find the other one, Mr. Burke—even a broken one—I'll buy it."
"I'll keep an eye out for you," Burke promised without hesitation.