They were noticing, his inner circle. Noticing that something was wrong. Noticing that he seemed to be fraying at the edges, coming undone like a ball of string. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, not for sure, but he was frightened that he had an idea. He hadn’t been able to find the locket. He hadn’t been able to find the cup. The only thing that was holding him together, was the knowledge that no one would be able to find the diadem, and that the ring was safe in his possession. When Hogwarts was his, he would venture into the castle’s halls and verify the safety of the diadem himself, and then, he would hide the diadem and ring both, with more care this time.