Chapter 18: A New Prophecy and the Chosen Few
At eight o'clock in the morning, Ryan, who had spent another night in the library, received his daily intel.
The scene was familiar: the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the eighth floor, outside the Room of Requirement. Cast onto the tapestry was the shadowy silhouette of a person, illuminated by a flickering torchlight.
The accompanying text appeared as expected: [Today, the one who once hid a treasure stands again before the entrance. He is hesitant, unsure if he should allow one so unworthy to access his deepest secret.]
"Just one silhouette?"
"Who is the 'unworthy one' the intel refers to?"
"And what is the 'deepest secret'?"
Intel without any context was the most annoying kind. The creepy atmosphere of the vision suggested that whoever was involved was up to no good. Racking his brain, Ryan couldn't recall from the original story which student might have hidden something in the Room of Requirement.
He decided it was best to report this to a professor.
Outside Professor Flitwick's Quarters.
"You're saying you had a new prophecy? Involving a secret room within the school?" the diminutive professor asked, having been ambushed just as he was leaving his office. "There must be more to it, or you wouldn't have come to me." He knew his star pupil well; if it weren't a dangerous matter, Ryan would have handled it himself.
"Here are the details..." Ryan recounted the intel, slightly exaggerating the ominous feeling he got from the vision.
Professor Flitwick's brow furrowed. "From your prophecy, it sounds as if an outsider with malicious intent has entered the school. This concerns student safety. We must go to Dumbledore at once."
"He might know if any unauthorized individuals have managed to get inside Hogwarts recently."
The two of them headed towards the Headmaster's office. As they passed the tapestry on the eighth floor, Ryan pointed out the Room of Requirement to Professor Flitwick. "You just have to think of the room you need and walk past this tapestry three times."
He demonstrated. "I need a room to practice charms." As he paced back and forth, a door materialized on the smooth stone wall. The sight of the wall transforming made Professor Flitwick's eyes go wide with wonder.
"A truly ingenious piece of magic," Flitwick marveled.
"I believe it was a creation left behind by Rowena Ravenclaw. What do you think?" Ryan asked, seeking the opinion of the current Head of Ravenclaw.
"I am inclined to agree."
...
The Great Hall.
"Did you get in?"
"No, did you?"
"I didn't pass either."
"Does it feel like almost no one got in?"
"I heard some people have already received their club insignia!"
The dining hall was buzzing with chatter. One might have thought they were discussing exam results. Most of the younger students, who had treated their applications like wish lists, weren't too disappointed. But the human heart loves to gossip. Even if they hadn't passed the test, they could still find out who had. By befriending the successful applicants, they'd at least know who to borrow notes from during revision time.
"Did you guys pass the Adventurers' Club assessment? I woke up this morning and there was a letter on my bedside table! It said my application was accepted, and a Hogwarts house-elf delivered the notice and the club insignia." Hermione spoke quickly, her voice full of excitement. "By the way, what's a house-elf? And how can a house-elf get into the girls' dormitory?"
"House-elves are magical creatures, excellent helpers for wizarding families, though they are usually only found in ancient and wealthy households," Percy explained patiently. "And of course, there are house-elves here at Hogwarts."
Hermione nodded as if she understood, then asked, "Did you pass? This badge is supposed to let us all communicate." As she spoke, she held up a round, black-and-gold pin engraved with two intersecting crosses, resembling the face of a clock.
Percy shook his head. "My application wasn't quite right, I suppose. Ryan wrote back to me and said I was better suited for a career at the Ministry, and that I didn't need to waste my energy on magical research. But he still welcomed me to join the club." He flashed the black-and-gold pin on his own cuff.
Their exchange, and the gleaming badges, caught the attention of the other Gryffindors. Harry, sitting nearby, felt a pang of anxiety. He hadn't received a letter yet.
At the Slytherin table, Malfoy was holding court. "Ryan would never give us a special invitation. He probably wouldn't even let our older students pass the test, even if they were capable."
"After my father almost had him expelled," he sneered, "he's bound to hold a grudge against us." Crabbe and Goyle nodded along dumbly.
Just then, a fifth-year Slytherin walked by, a black-and-gold pin proudly displayed on his robes.
Crabbe: "..."
Goyle: "..."
"I've heard of you, Malfoy," the fifth-year said, pausing by their table. "The great Malfoy family. Isn't your family motto 'Toujours Pur, and Profit first'—'Always Pure, and Profit Above All'?"
"Of course," Malfoy said, standing up to face him. He recognized the student as Vaisey Selwyn, another member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. "Do you have a different opinion, Selwyn?" The Selwyn family also had members who had joined that certain... "activist group"... known as the Death Eaters.
"If the Malfoys truly choose profit," Vaisey said coolly, "they should at least be able to identify a profitable opportunity when they see one."
At that moment, the morning post owls swooped into the Great Hall, dropping parcels in front of several students. One landed right in front of Malfoy. He tore it open, and a black-and-gold pin rolled out.
He picked it up in disbelief, his pale face contorting as he kneaded the pin between his fingers, as if trying to prove it was just a prank.
Vaisey Selwyn laughed, his voice full of mockery. He ignored the strange looks from the other Slytherins and calmly took his seat. "Ryan is still Ryan."
Malfoy didn't hear Selwyn's taunt, or if he did, he was too preoccupied to care. He frantically pulled a letter from the package.
Mr. Draco Malfoy,
Due to certain answers concerning the future, you are hereby invited to join the Adventurers' Club. The first meeting will be held this Friday, after the last lesson of the day.
Sincerely,
Ryan Welles
"He invited you," Goyle stated.
"Malfoy, Goyle said he invited you," Crabbe repeated.
"I know," Malfoy hissed through gritted teeth, as if in great pain. His mind was reeling with a thousand questions, but there was no one who could answer them.
At the Ravenclaw table, a group of students wearing the black-and-gold pins were clustered together.
"Where's Ryan?"
"No idea. Haven't seen him all morning."
"Probably hiding so people don't try to bribe him for a spot in the club."
"Ryan spends nine out of ten nights away from the dorm. The Hufflepuffs see him in the kitchens more than we see him in the common room."
"What did you all write on your applications?"
The group exchanged glances, and sly grins began to spread across their faces. It was clear that every single word on their applications was enough to make a Ministry traditionalist faint with rage.
Suddenly, one of them spoke up, their voice low. "I heard that You-Know-Who also started a little club when he was at school here."