Chapter 19. Room of Hidden Things.

# Hogwarts #

I awoke with my heart pounding in my chest as the remnants of a haunting nightmare lingered in my mind. Gasping for air, I desperately tried to shake off the images that had plagued my sleep. The vivid scenes of my mother's suffering and her accusing words reverberated within me, filling me with a sense of guilt and despair.

"Enough, " I muttered, determined to quell the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume me.

Employing Occlumency, I shielded my thoughts and buried the tumultuous feelings deep within. It was time to focus, to regain control over my turbulent mind.

Seeking clarity, I made my way to the bathroom, hoping the soothing waters would wash away the remnants of my nightmares.

As the warm water cascaded over me, my thoughts drifted to the Marauders, those insufferable troublemakers.

Last night's duel had revealed more about them than I had ever cared to know. Delving into their minds, I discovered a cesspool of repugnant thoughts and actions. Potter, using that wretched cloth to invade others' privacy, although I must begrudgingly admit he refrained from exploiting it in indecent situations involving Lily.

Instead, he and his fuc* buddy Sirius Black reveled in tormenting students from all houses under the guise of harmless pranks.

Their animosity towards the Dark Arts and those they suspected of dabbling in the Dark Arts surpassed even the purebloods' disdain for Muggles. It was not born out of genuine concern, but rather a twisted legacy inherited from Potter's parents, who held contempt for the pureblood ideology.

As for Sirius Black, it seemed his hatred served as an outlet for the abuse he suffered at the hands of his own family. They also exploited the map and the cloak to aid their lupine friend during his werewolf transformations. Noble intentions, perhaps, but it mattered little to me.

That Lupin, the Wolf, had never employed the map or cloak for nefarious purposes. He seemed to possess a streak of misfortune in choosing his friends, or perhaps they were simply good friends who happened to be morally bankrupt dunderheads. Regardless, his arse getting what coming for them.

And then there was Peter Pettigrew, the rat, that repulsive creature. He surpassed the others in his vile actions, utilizing his animagus form and the cloak to spy on unsuspecting girls in their vulnerable moments. The very thought of his cowardice and perversion churned my stomach. A more wretched being I could hardly fathom.

Yet, despite all I had known about these three so-called friends, I still fuc*king intended to use this to my advantage. I had long harbored the desire to see them expelled from Hogwarts, and now, they would serve as stepping stones in my quest to reform my tarnished image.

My reputation among the populace of Hogwarts, especially the Muggle-borns, was no better than that of the Marauders. My own spells had been used to harm others, and I had unleashed my fair share of venom against Muggle-borns.

In the eyes of the students, I was no different from those I despised.

But that would change. These four would become the catalyst for purifying my tainted name, for proving that I was more than the sum of my past transgressions.

I had never claimed to be a good person, but I believed in returning threefold what was dealt to me. And the Marauders would soon learn the consequences of crossing paths with me.

As thoughts of the Marauders swirled in my mind, I couldn't help but recall the prized possessions I borrowed from them – the Map and the Invisibility Cloak.

I was certain they would not dare reveal their ownership of these items, for it would surely land them in considerable trouble. Curiously, something about the cloak piqued my interest.

Normally, the Homenum Revelio spell would prove futile against those concealed beneath its protective mantle. Yet, to my astonishment, my incantation had indeed unveiled their hidden presence.

Was it due to the infusion of my necro into the spell?

Moreover, there had been a distinct resonance emanating from the cloak, an amalgamation of wizarding magic and something that resonated with death itself.

It bore an aura that I always encounter only in the presence of the dead when I would just be about to extract their shadows. It could mean only one thing – if this cloak truly was the legendary Invisibility Cloak spoken of in the tale of the Three Brothers, a gift from Death itself, then I had stumbled upon the treasure of a lifetime.

Knowing full well that Potter would return to reclaim his cherished cloak, I realized the need for a replacement. However, I could celebrate caution dictated that I keep my intentions to myself, for the walls of Hogwarts harbored many ears.

Turning my attention to the Map, I acknowledged its impressive enchantments and the Marauders' ingenuity in its creation. Though I had little need for their particular version, I admired their resourcefulness.

Nevertheless, I planned to fashion my own map, one that would far surpass their creation. Rather than wasting my precious time traversing the castle to gather location details, I would meticulously transcribe the contents of their map onto my own, enhancing and refining it to suit my purposes. And the Marauders' map would unwittingly become the catalyst for their social downfall.

Having completed my bath, I returned to my dorm to prepare for the upcoming night's adventure. On the seventh floor, I made my way to the left corridor.

The information I had found from the forbidden depths of the restricted section in the library revealed that the Room of Requirement had a peculiar trait – it materialized for those who were in dire need of it.

With each step, my anticipation grew, for I knew that tonight held the promise of discovery and the fulfillment of my ambitions.

Silently gliding through the corridor shrouded beneath the Invisibility Cloak, I pondered upon what lay hidden within the mysterious Room of Requirement.

From what I found, It was going to be a battle of wills between myself and the sentient Hogwarts castle. The castle knew when one sought its sanctuary, and now I had to will the room into existence.

Concentrating my thoughts on the purpose of concealment, a room of hidden things, I envisioned a room that harbored things to be hidden. Within moments, a door materialized before me, beckoning me to enter.

Stepping inside, my eyes widened at the sight that greeted me. The room was brimming with an eclectic assortment of objects, ranging from the absurd to the invaluable.

Golden treasures gleamed, enticing my gaze, while shelves laden with books hinted at the knowledge they contained. Amongst the various items, swords and ancient artifacts held their own allure.

Unable to resist the temptation, I cast a Lumos spell, illuminating the chamber with a luminous glow that cast shadows in every corner. Extending my powers, I expanded my shadow, devouring every item within reach and drawing them into my realm. As the room emptied, I found myself standing amidst a pristine, empty space.

Closing my eyes, I willed for the room to summon forth a book that held knowledge of the room's functions. It was written that the Room of Requirement manifested differently for each individual, aligning with their desires.

Reflecting upon this, I had initially wished for a room of hidden things, hence the abundance of lost items and gold when I entered.

However, one object emitted a familiar magical energy, almost like my necro, one that resonated with my command over the dead. It was a diadem that emitted eerie, wailing sounds. Acting swiftly, I cast a Muffliato charm to muffle its cries.

Though the diadem appeared familiar, I struggled to recall its significance. Deciding to deal with it later, I deposited it into my shadow, a place where all the other forgotten and ancient artifacts resided.

It possessed an ancient design and a potent aura of death, its energy fundamentally different from the invisibility cloak, but my lack of interest in history prevented me from delving deeper into its origins.

'I will deal with it later. It looks interesting but dangerous at the same time.'

Realizing that I needed a replacement for Potter's cloak, I concentrated on the vast array of items within my realm. Closing my eyes once more, I sought a normal invisibility cloak amidst the jumble. And there, nestled amidst the heap, I discovered a cloak that fit the bill perfectly.

It would serve as an ideal replacement for Potter, while I retained the Deathly Hallows within my grasp. Now certain of their existence, my resolve to search for the other two Hallows grew stronger.

Recognizing that it was time for practice, I withdrew the various items back into the comforting shadows, clearing my mind to focus on dueling and honing my telekinetic abilities.

The Room of Requirement proved to be a perfect training ground, accommodating my every need. Flipping through the pages of the book detailing the room's secrets, I discovered the ability to summon training dolls for combat practice.

Closing my eyes in concentration, I envisioned martial training dolls to enhance my dueling and telekinetic prowess. When I opened my eyes, a plethora of training dolls surrounded me, and the room had expanded, revealing an altered interior.

Summoning my shadows, a fox, two dogs, ten rats, and an eagle emerged, ready to be trained. Infusing them with necro, I amplified their strength and ferocity.

Over the course of many days back at the mansion, I discovered a remarkable ability to see through the eyes of my shadows, granting me the surveillance I desired.

Testing my telekinetic powers, I effortlessly lifted a training doll, crushing it with a wave of my hand. The potency of my telekinetic abilities had grown alongside the other enhancements I received from the potions I had consumed. But it was minuscule.

As I continued to refine my skills, I turned my attention to creating healing potions. While still perfecting the formula, these potions held the potential to mend wounds, yet their regenerative capabilities remained untested.

The efficacy of their healing properties depended on the strength of my own body after imbibing the potion. With my powers continually expanding, I remained optimistic about the potential acceleration of the healing process, though uncertainty lingered.

'I need more time to perfect it.'

Observing my shadows as they relentlessly attacked the training dolls, their fangs sharper and more formidable than those possessed by their living kin.

It was time to conclude the practice session. Dismissing them back into the depths of my shadow, I departed from the room.

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-3rd POV-

In his grand office, Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, a figure of wisdom and power. The shelves that lined the walls were filled with ancient tomes and delicate artifacts, each holding its own story. The room was adorned with countless portraits, the subjects of which gazed down upon him with curious and animated expressions.

The Headmaster's desk was cluttered with papers, scrolls, and quills, though amidst the organized chaos, a bowl of colorful candies stood out. Dumbledore's fondness for sweets was well-known throughout the school, and his desk was always adorned with these delightful treats.

He held in his hands a report, detailing the recent disaster caused by the Death Eaters. His brow furrowed as he perused the words, his mind deeply troubled.

How had he gone so wrong with Tom? The young boy he once believed he could guide toward the light had transformed into the Dark Lord, a force of darkness that threatened the very foundations of their world.

Dumbledore couldn't help but feel a pang of regret and self-doubt.

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, he absentmindedly stroked the vibrant feathers of Fawkes, his loyal phoenix, perched on a nearby stand. The bird let out a gentle trill, sensing his master's unease, providing a small comfort in the midst of turmoil.

Just then, the office door swung open, revealing Professor McGonagall, her stern expression softened by concern. She quickly closed the door behind her, entering the room with an air of urgency.

"Albus, there has been an incident in the hallway," she said, her voice filled with worry and anger. "Mr. Potter and his friends— Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Pettigrew... I don't know how they managed to appear there."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, his attention fully focused on his trusted deputy. "What happened, Minerva?" he inquired, his voice calm yet concerned.

"They were found unconscious, wearing green gowns with the word 'clowns' written on them," McGonagall explained, her voice tinged with disapproval. "Some students reported witnessing a group of Slytherins casting hexes upon them. They were levitated, ridiculed, and left in a pitiable state."

Dumbledore's face hardened, his eyes flashing with a mixture of concern and disappointment. He rose from his seat, pushing aside the report he had been reading. "We must attend to them immediately. Take me to the infirmary, Minerva," he instructed, his voice filled with resolve.

Professor McGonagall nodded. Together, they left Dumbledore's office, determined to uncover the truth behind the incident and ensure the safety and well-being of their students.

They quickly made their way to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey was scolding the four Gryffindors who lay on their beds, looking worse for wear.

Concern etched across his face, Dumbledore listened attentively as Professor McGonagall questioned the students. "Tell me, who did this to you and why were you in gowns in the hallways?" she asked sternly.

"It was Snivellus! He attacked us cowardly and left us in the hallway," Sirius lied boldly, showing no remorse in his attempt to make his enemy pay for past grievances.

"Yes, Headmaster, it was Snivellus... I mean, Snape. He attacked us from behind, casting a sleeping spell and dressing us up," James Potter supported Sirius's fabricated claims.

'Ah, it's Mr. Prince, yet again.' Albus ponders, his piercing blue eyes filled with disappointment as he observed the four young miscreants before him.

He had always been cautious about delving into the minds of his students unless absolutely necessary, like the incident with the werewolf, but now, as he looked into their eyes, the truth revealed itself with clarity.

His gaze turned toward Remus Lupin, seeking answers from the young man whom he had trusted. "Tell me, Remus," Dumbledore began, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness, " Is it true, Mr. Lupin?"

"Yes, Sir," Remus replied, his voice betraying a lie. He didn't want to further disappoint Dumbledore, especially after the events involving Severus in the Shrieking Shack.

He felt a pang of sorrow, realizing that even the boy he held in high regard had chosen to deceive him. Their friendship had been built on trust, despite their different backgrounds, but this act of dishonesty was unacceptable.

Dumbledore, yearning for a clearer understanding of the situation, decided to delve into James Potter's mind, but not too deeply.

As he glimpsed the memories, his disappointment deepened, as if a heavy weight had settled upon his shoulders. He saw through the façade, comprehending everything that had transpired.

The blatant lies and the flawed personalities of the four young Gryffindors only added to his sorrow.

'I have ignored their behavior for far too long,' Dumbledore thought, a sense of determination settling within him. 'This time, they shall face the consequences. Last time, Mr. Lupin's life was at stake, but now they must learn the gravity of their actions.'

Before the memory faded, Dumbledore's attention was caught by a significant moment—Severus Prince locking eyes with James Potter. In that gaze, it was as if Severus was looking directly at him, not merely at James.

"I hope the Headmaster punishes the four of you for your transgressions—at least this time," Snape's words echoed in Dumbledore's mind. "Should he fail to act, he shall expose himself as a hypocrite, unworthy of his title. He claims to treat all students equally, yet why are you shown such favoritism? Why should my suffering go unpunished while they are granted countless chances? You all be prepared for punishment."

Dumbledore was taken aback by the hidden message within those words, but he quickly regained his composure. "Not only does the boy recall my use of Legilimency," he pondered, a hint of admiration lighting up his face, "but he also leaves me a message. Perhaps young Severus possesses even greater talent than I had initially believed. It is a pity that he harbors such resentment toward Muggles. Maybe I should attempt to converse with him and understand the root of his animosity before he walks the same path as Tom. Indeed, I owe him an apology for my actions in the past. My hands were tied then, with Mr. Lupin's life hanging in the balance. And perhaps, a gift of candies may help bridge the gap."

With a shake of his head, Dumbledore redirected his attention to the lying Gryffindors before him. Disappointment radiated from his gaze as he addressed them sternly, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "I am deeply disappointed in all four of you," he began, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and sternness. "Not only did you orchestrate an ambush, to which young Severus retaliated, but you also chose to lie and shift the blame onto him. I have already heard his side of the story. Mr. Black, I expected better from you, especially after your recent actions. Remus, your lie has deeply saddened me. But, James, it is your actions that hurt me the most."

Dumbledore's voice grew firm as he pronounced their punishment. "I will be contacting your parents, James. Furthermore, all four of you will serve detention, alongside Filch, for the remainder of this month."

As Dumbledore turned and left the group, his thoughts lingered on the hope that his wayward students would learn from their mistakes. He knew they possessed good hearts, but their intentions were often misguided. 'I pray they understand the gravity of their actions.' he mused, leaving the infirmary with a sense of cautious optimism.

"But, Sir..." Sirius began to whine, his voice filled with entitlement and frustration.

James, Remus, and Peter stood in stunned silence, realizing the full weight of their deceit. Dumbledore had seen through their lies, and now their fate was sealed.

"I will extend the detention to two months," Professor McGonagall interjected, her voice stern and unyielding. "You lied to the headmaster when he asked, and if it were not for his presence, all four of you would have continued to deceive. And 30 points from Gryffindor."

Unbeknownst to Dumbledore, Severus Snape had already planned his own form of retribution, casting a shadow over the four Gryffindors' futures.

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