The corridors of Hogwarts were silent in the late hours of the night, but Harry had long since mastered the art of moving unseen. The castle was a living, breathing entity, filled with secrets waiting to be uncovered, and tonight, he was after one of its most elusive treasures—the Room of Requirement.
Holding the Marauder's Map in his hand, he traced his finger along the inked pathways until he found the notation that had piqued his interest.
There it was.
A room that only appeared when needed. A room that could become whatever its seeker desired.
Most of Hogwarts' inhabitants had no idea it existed. The few who did were either long gone or had used it sparingly, never fully grasping its potential.
But Harry?
He intended to make full use of it.
The Path to the Unseen
He moved with careful precision, his footsteps silent as he ascended to the seventh floor. The castle was old—older than many of its students realized—and its walls whispered of forgotten times.
How many wizards had walked this path before him?
He passed the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, the mad wizard's failed attempts at teaching trolls ballet frozen in time. The image barely registered in his mind as he focused on the stretch of blank wall before him.
The Room of Requirement only reveals itself when truly needed.
He thought of his goal.
I need a place to find Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem.
He walked past the wall once.
Twice.
On the third pass, the stone shimmered. The outline of a grand wooden door materialized before him, ancient yet sturdy, as if it had always been there.
Harry smirked.
Perfect.
Pushing it open, he stepped inside.
A Vault of the Forgotten
The air inside was thick with dust and time, the scent of aged parchment and rusted metal filling his senses. Towers of discarded objects stretched into the shadows—old cauldrons, shattered wands, tattered books, and relics of students past.
Hogwarts was a place of learning, but also of forgetting.
Lost possessions, abandoned experiments, confiscated contraband—it all found its way here, buried beneath layers of history.
But Harry wasn't here to sift through meaningless junk.
He was here for something far more valuable.
Closing his eyes, he let his magic pulse outward, reaching through the room's chaos like a spider extending its web. The clutter around him shifted, responding to his will.
And then—there it was.
Gliding toward him, as if summoned, was an ancient, tarnished diadem.
Rowena Ravenclaw's lost crown.
The Horcrux's Whisper
Dark energy pulsed from the diadem, a creeping sensation crawling along his skin. The moment his fingers closed around it, a whisper slithered into his mind.
"Who dares touch me?"
Voldemort's soul fragment—weak, but persistent. It clawed at his consciousness, trying to influence him, to sink its hooks into his mind.
Harry simply smirked.
Weak.
Without hesitation, he willed the diadem into his pocket universe.
The moment it crossed into his personal domain, the soul fragment screamed in rage. But it was powerless here. The sheer purity of his universe crushed it instantly, snuffing it out like a candle in a storm.
Just like that—another piece of Voldemort's soul was gone.
But the true treasure was still in his grasp.
The Crown of Enlightenment
Carefully, he placed the diadem upon his head.
And the world changed.
It was as if his mind expanded beyond its limits. Thoughts became razor-sharp, every spell he had ever read— even those he had yet to cast— felt within reach.
Complex theories unfolded before him, their mysteries unraveling in an instant.
It was intoxicating.
But Harry knew better than to let it consume him.
The clarity came at a cost. He could already feel the strain creeping in, the weight of accelerated thought pressing against his skull. A normal wizard would be overwhelmed, their mind buckling under the sheer influx of knowledge.
But Harry?
He welcomed the challenge.
And he wasn't done yet.
He turned his gaze to the piles of forgotten objects and willed the room to shift.
The chaos faded.
In its place, rows upon rows of bookshelves emerged—ancient tomes filled with forbidden knowledge, secrets long hidden in the Restricted Section.
Harry's lips curled as he plucked a book from the nearest shelf.
He had the entire night ahead of him.
And he intended to make the most of it.