After having wrangled and captured all the Snakelings for the night, Rowan is finally able to drag herself into bed. Too tired to undress, she slumped down onto her bed and just lay there, before forcing herself to sit up to meditate at least five minutes to clear and set her mindscape defenses in place. Finally, only to then lie back down and close her eyes and try to fall asleep again.
However, to Rowan's dismay, she found that she could only toss and turn as her mind refused to quiet down after that evening's revelation. Kicking her feet in frustration, and a loud groan, she finally rolls out of bed and grumpily stomps out of the bedroom and heads towards the girl's bathroom. What was sleep anyway? Sleep was for quitters!
Still muttering to herself, Rowan only briefly checks to ensure that she is alone, before teleporting away to the Chamber of Secrets. "Lumos," she said as she held her wand high and walked over to the portable battery-powered lanterns and flashlights to turn them.
The cool stone room immediately brightens to reveal the laboratory filled with giant vats full of basilisk ingredients as well as the stored ingredients that had been raided from the deceased Bellatrix's vault. With a soft mutter, the bright light at the end of Rowan's wand goes out, as she makes her way to the bookshelf filled with rare and ancient volumes.
A tired smile appears on Rowan's face as she gently strokes the book covers. She had missed the peace and quiet of the night as she researched, but she simply did not seem to have the time nor energy to come down into the Chamber of Secrets anymore. There was always seemed to be some errand that needed to be done or a miscreant student to be found and caught. Still, she would at least try to come down here once per week. It was not as though she was getting enough sleep as it was.
Grabbing several volumes from the bookshelf, Rowan quickly scans through the first two volumes, Magick Moste Evile by Godelot and Secrets of the Darkest Art by Owle Bullock. As she skimmed through the dark volumes, she did not find much in them that she did not already know about curses. Still, some of the contents and descriptions were so vile that she finally slammed shut both volumes and turned away from them.
Rowan resists the urge to burn both dreadful volumes, before rising to her feet and all but shoving the two books back into the bookshelf. What else could she read? She wondered when her eyes fell onto the last volume of Salazar Slytherin's written journals that she had yet to read in parseltongue. Perhaps, there was a clue to be found therein.
The night hours passed in such a fashion as Rowan tiredly rubbed her gritty sand-filled like eyes and repeatedly blinked her eyes to refocus on what she was reading as she only seemed to be understanding half of what she read. Feeling herself starting to become very drowsy as the early morning hours approached, she was just about to stop near the end of the volume, when something caught her eye.
Shaking herself wide awake, Rowan returns to reading the entire page again.
"I have seen numerous curses throughout my entire lifetime including that of the Malediction. I know not a single witch or wizard of great power that has never in their lifetime not cast a curse or hex. Why even Godric, the champion of all that is good has cursed others and slain in cold blood. Hypocrites the whole lot of them."
Rowan nodded her head in agreement as Auror's killed and cursed to fulfill their duty. It was quite the double standard really. But life is sometimes like that.
"One of the requirements for casting a curse is power or that of heartfelt emotions such as rage, pride, terror, hatred, and even love as strange as that might sound. I am certainly no innocent and I have cast many curses in my own time including that of the Malediction. However, there is one singular curse that yet escapes my grasp, a curse of Malice."
"Malice?" Rowan whispered out loud as she furrowed her brows and continued to read.
"It is a curse that not only requires great power but a hatred so powerful that the curse can only be extinguished by the destruction of the caster. And no, not even death will destroy the curse for the curse will linger long after the caster departs from this world to the next via natural causes. No, only blood for blood will stem and destroy that which was so cruelly forged and cast."
Furrowing her brows, Rowan raises her gritty eyes up from the page. Then unless Riddle was permanently killed including all of his vile Horcruxes, his curse would still exist much like it did in Potter's time. Then if breaking the curse was impossible for the present time being, then what about binding such a terrible curse?
Bending her neck, Rowan returns to reading from where she left off.
"There is no other known manner in which to destroy a Malice curse except for binding the curse to a Living Sacrifice. Yes, a living vessel must become the host of such an awful curse. And only under the light of the Hunter's Moon which falls upon the third night of the three Harvest Moon's."
Rowan startles at the words as her hands clench that much tighter around the old pages, before forcing her hands to relax lest she damages the ancient volume. Taking a deep breath, she returns to the paragraph where she had left off.
"A suitable living sacrifice must be wholly possessed by that which is dark, but still possesses a single grain of light. Once a suitable living sacrifice is found, then a rune inscription must be carved into the living vessel during the duration of the ceremony. And once the ceremony has begun under no circumstance can the ceremony be halted."
A bitter laugh escapes Rowan as she reads those last words. It would seem that it was impossible to act without sacrificing some part of herself. And in this case, a portion of her humanity and innocence. And though an awful truth to behold, she also knew the answer to the unspoken question, it was necessary.