After leaving the pub, Rowan did not tarry in Hogsmeade and made her way back straight to Hogwarts. The school carriages were still coming down full of students, but she was the first to leave. By the time she made it back to the Slytherin common rooms, most of the school had left as she made her way in silence to the Slytherin quarters. Not seeing Alchemy or Bram in the common room, she could only conclude they must be out curled up somewhere warm. The two cats were rather well-liked even by the Professors and had even been spotted in various offices napping and being delightfully spoiled.
Making sure the door was closed, Rowan crept into bed and pulled the curtains shut to her bed. Unable to hide her eagerness her hands rather clumsily fiddled to open the envelope as she pulled the profiles from inside. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, she began with the first name, Oswald Bulstrode, and so forth.
Half an hour later, Rowan had finished reading all five of the reports. Not confident enough that she hadn't missed anything of relative importance she read the reports all over again with the exact same result. There was absolutely nothing here that screamed bloody murder to her.
With a sigh, Rowan flopped onto her back and closed her eyes. Of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. She should know by now that she was dealing with a master. Whatever detail or clue ever found was either erased or the individual in question killed. Whatever the dead friend of Alphard had come across must have been of some importance as she'd been killed within the Ministry of Magic. There must be a clue somewhere, a loose end that the deceased friend of Alphard was able to piece together.
Sitting back up, Rowan glanced at each of the profiles again. Then what should her next step be? Putting that thought away for the moment, she climbs out of bed and gathers the sheets. Heading to the common room fireplace she tosses a single sheet into the flames one at a time until it became nothing but ash. There was a rather burnt smell permeating through the common room, but she frankly didn't care.
Finished, she went back to her bed to sit down and read. Seeing this as an opportunity, Rowan pulled out the remaining unfinished read volume of Salazar's work that she had brought with her. She began to read from where she had left off on the discussion of the soul.
Rowan suddenly pauses and blinks as she rereads the entire page that she had just read.
"It had long thought that an obscurial is a type of Horcrux in its own manner. Unlike a Horcrux, which is a physical torn piece of the soul an obscurial is the soul's manifestation of its existence. Created only under rather dire circumstances from either abuse or trauma, a child's magic separates itself and becomes an entity much like an apparition. But unlike an apparition, much like a Horcrux, the obscurial cannot separate from its vessel much like that of a Horcrux. Most children under such possession die before their 10th birthday and with them the obscurial for the reason that once the vessel is destroyed just like the Horcrux, neither the Horcrux nor the obscurial can live without their vessel."
A name comes to Rowan's mind, Credence Barebone. Credence Barebone did not die when he was killed the first time while in obscurial form. And New Scamander for a time preserved the obscurial of a Sudanese girl within a bubble of some sort. But what if just like in Potter and Riddle's case? What if said obscurial was powerful enough to leave its dying host or even survive long enough to find another host? Not to mention, what if purposefully an obscurial could be transferred to another? What then?
Rowan's mind flickered for a moment to Arian Dumbledore, before returning to the next paragraph.
"The second apprentice of Herpo, The Foul theorized prior to his fleeing that it would be possible for a soul to live forever being transplanted into another. Utterly preposterous as living beings cannot house a living Horcrux. Nor can an obscurial be transplanted into another. The sheer process of becoming a Horcrux is already dangerous enough as it is. I'd attempt it myself if I deemed one worthy enough to entrust my vessel too. But I've made far too many enemies in this lifetime to ever trust anyone with such a vital piece of me. I would rather die whole than as a half-shallow living thing."
Instantly Rowan's mind races as she begins to see a horrifying image in her mind. What if the second apprentice's theory was true? What if there was someone vile and powerful enough to separate their soul and put it into a child on purpose? As in Potter's case, Harry was his own person and at the same time contained a portion of another soul within him. What if said individual at the end of their life could do exactly what Riddle (unconsciously) did? Thereby effectively being reborn again and again never to truly taste death?
Trembling Rowan closed her eyes as a feeling of utter dread overcame her. It made sense why the Horcrux Riddle viewed that person as his goal. But why said puppeteer had not revealed his secret and allowed Riddle to continue to make Horcruxes? The answer brutally struck her in the face.
Riddle in his younger years was the most dangerous person she had ever seen. Unlike the Riddle at present who was mad with power and the destroying of his soul, the younger Riddle was pure evil in its truest form. Brilliant and charismatic, he could charm the birds out of the sky and even fool the most powerful wizard of all time right under his nose, Albus Dumbledore.
No, the younger Riddle would have been a most serious threat. Not that he wasn't now, but nowhere in the capacity of his younger years. Plus, she had a distinct impression that the present Riddle couldn't recall the puppeteer's existence. Never did Riddle refer to a master as an adult Horcrux only the younger Horcrux had. Somehow, she didn't know how, but the puppeteer had erased his existence from the adult Riddle's mind. Cleverly tying up loose ends, while still having Riddle be of use to him.
Rubbing her aching head, Rowan decides it's time for a break and puts the volume away in her trunk. She decided to head down to the kitchens where at least the house elves would be nice to her. And most importantly feed her to take her mind off things. Which was rather nice.