Now that I have the Marauder's Map and my disillusionment charms are starting to work somewhat decently, I can tackle what I've been dreaming about for a long time—plundering the Room of Requirement. These charms won't save me from wizards, because you can still see a transparent silhouette under them, meaning I'm quite easy to spot, especially when moving, and they can counter-spell me. But you can easily pass by portraits in this state, and they'll never recognize who it was.
I get up at four in the morning and prepare for my first foray. In the morning, hardly anyone will notice my absence. And if they do, I can always say I slept well and got up early. I walk three times along the wall thinking about a place where something can be hidden. A door appears, and with a sinking heart I go inside. I can't see the opposite wall. Sunlight pours in from windows above, illuminating endless, immeasurable piles, columns, mountains of forgotten things. My cautious steps raise centuries-old dust into the air, and the dust motes dance merrily in the sun's rays. Hmm... sunlight, but dawn hasn't come yet.
"Under no circumstances use Accio! Under no circumstances use Accio!" I repeat like a mantra. Or my body will never be found under the rubble. And most importantly, don't get lost. I equip myself with dragon-hide gloves.
I realized one thing—most of what's collected here is outright trash. Broken furniture, torn robes, cracked dishes, countless bottles of expired butterbeer and empty bottles, cheap trinkets without any magic, for some reason lots of broken carts and horse harnesses... In the book "Secure Yourself and Your Home" I read about a diagnostic spell, and that's all I'm counting on. Items with useful charms glow green, with dangerous charms—red, unidentified charms—yellow. Items without magic don't react to the spell.
In three hours here I used *Excuro* and *Evanesco* about four hundred times and depleted my reserves. Into a couple of dense bags, which will then go into my bottomless backpack, I fold jewelry without magic and jewelry with green charms. There isn't that much of it, actually. There are far more books, but most of them are the same school editions. I also diagnose interesting books and fold the safe ones into a third bag, shrinking them first. I set aside the dangerous ones, writing down their titles on a separate parchment. Well, that's it—with a completely exhausted magical reserve there's nothing more to do here, and breakfast is already in full swing. That's enough for today. That day in classes I showed frankly poor results. Next time I won't go to complete zero.
On my third visit it dawned on me that I'm not using the Room of Requirement quite as intended. I decided to take a break from excavations and requested an aqua park for myself. Unfortunately, Hogwarts decided that an aqua park was too much for me, but a luxurious marble pool was also very nice. I'm sure the prefects' bathroom doesn't compare. I also managed to request from the room a classic gym with slightly outdated equipment and a hall to practice spells in. The latter had several difficulty modes: the training dummy just stands there, moves along a random trajectory, moves and responds with harmless spells that make a "ding" when hit, moves and responds with stinging hexes—and that's quite painful. Also, the number of dummies can be varied. Since I've managed to learn very few combat spells so far, I specialized more in those useful for peaceful life. And for dangerous situations I had my telekinesis and fire. But the encounter with the Weasley brothers showed I need to train at least my reaction time. They wrapped me up in a cocoon, and what could I have done even if I knew a bunch of combat charms? I gradually develop a schedule for visiting the Room of Requirement. Three times a week I get up in the middle of the night and go. I don't seem to notice any suspicions directed at me. Only my roommates started wondering why I began falling asleep faster in the evenings.
I must shamefully admit that I have poor imagination. I never managed to come up with a worthy revenge plan against the Weasley twins. Serious enough that they'd get the message, but not so serious that I might have trouble if something went wrong. Yes, I hold grudges. They scared me to death and nearly froze me to death. So now everything constantly fell from their hands, shoelaces came untied, inkwells opened in their bags, juice spilled from their goblets right onto them, and spiders fell on them from the ceiling behind their collars. After countless small pranks I realized I'd basically gotten it out of my system and wasn't angry anymore.
The clearing of debris goes slower than I wanted. More precisely, the percentage of useful things in these piles is much lower than expected. Surprisingly, I managed to find a lot of old firearms. Apparently Hogwarts wasn't always closed off from ordinary people. I think most of these weapons can't be fired anymore. I decided it's dangerous for amateurs to mess with such things, and left everything as it was. But I folded weapons made of goblin steel into a special enchanted bag. They say goblins highly value lost artifacts and weapons of their people. So I'll keep some in reserve as a possible bargaining item. Who knows what I might want to negotiate with them about in the future?
I found many, many different potions. Most of them have long since expired, since they keep even less time than ordinary medications.
But the black oily liquid in one of the vials interested me. It looks very much like basilisk venom according to the description. And it's been stored here for who knows how long. Basilisks weren't such a rarity before. So this is a very useful but terrifyingly dangerous thing. I'll be able to test it if I find the diadem. But the diadem was nowhere to be found, though I found a Vanishing Cabinet. I thought it over and destroyed it thoroughly. We don't need guests from Knockturn here. I carefully buried the presumed basilisk venom in one of the piles and memorized the landmarks.
***
While I was spending time productively in the Room of Requirement, a conspiracy theory was brewing on Gryffindor. The same one where Snape is the main villain.
Exams were successfully passed, and on one not-so-fine day Harry runs up to me shouting that Dumbledore has left, McGonagall wouldn't listen to him, and we must protect Dumbledore and Flamel's scientific work from Snape.
I try to slow him down:
"Harry, if Professor McGonagall said there's nothing to worry about, then maybe that's how it is? She just knows something you don't know and understands that everything is under control."
But fat chance!
"Mio, how don't you understand," Harry wailed, "McGonagall trusts Snape and that's why she's not worried. But she's wrong!"
"If you're right, we should tell the other teachers about it," I look him in the eyes intently for greater persuasiveness, "They'll be able to protect Flamel and Dumbledore's work better than us, agreed?"
Harry nodded uncertainly.
"Let's go look for Professor Flitwick or Professor Sprout then?"
"Alright, you're probably right..."
Phew, seems like we dodged that. Suddenly Harry shifts his gaze somewhere behind me and his face lights up joyfully:
"Professor! Professor Quirrell!"
Oh mother of... I don't have time to turn around and see the professor, the world plunged into darkness.
***
I came to. I'm in no hurry to open my eyes, need to understand where I am first. I hear voices nearby. Harry and... Dumbledore? He's back already? And I'm lying on something soft. I try to breathe evenly and listen to the dialogue.
Blah-blah-blah, the Philosopher's Stone is destroyed, but Voldemort is quite the opposite, you acted very bravely, like a true hero, but the Flamels will die anyway, la-la-la...
I see, I missed everything successfully. I quietly rejoice at the fact that I didn't have to closely interact with Voldemort, much less fight him. But Harry clearly has stress. Dumbledore leaves, but Madam Pomfrey comes, and I pretend I've just come to. Turns out I was hit by a very powerful Stupefy, even have to drink a potion. Harry was also given a potion, if I'm not mistaken, a calming draught. Madam Pomfrey left us in the hospital wing until evening, and I heard the whole story from the beginning again from Harry's lips, who was dying to talk.
Turns out the main villain wasn't Snape but Quirrell, and he wasn't hunting for a scientific discovery but for the Philosopher's Stone. I dropped like dead, and Harry was very afraid I'd really died, then Quirrell pointed his wand at him, and it became easy-breezy. He woke up in front of the mirror, from which two-faced Quirrell wanted to get the stone. He even promised Harry to resurrect his parents, but he didn't believe him. But somehow the stone ended up in his pocket anyway, and Voldemort realized it. Quirrell started chasing Harry and trying to kill him, and Harry doesn't know how himself, but he killed Quirrell...
In general, almost as written, just without going through the obstacle course.
At the feast Dumbledore gave Harry a whole two hundred points for showing courage and strength of spirit. Slytherin in mourning, Gryffindor celebrating. And I don't care about either house—tomorrow we're going home!
***
Before arriving at the station I called Harry out of the compartment and handed him a small wooden amulet on a leather cord.
"Look, these are Muggle-repelling runes. If it becomes unbearable—put it on and become invisible to those around you. You can walk right under Aunt Petunia's nose and she'll ignore you. I tested such a thing on a donut seller—took a donut right under his nose without paying and started eating it, and he didn't care. But there are downsides too, for example, they might simply forget to call you for dinner. So as they say, 'help yourself!' Come to the kitchen and take what you need. Your family won't pay attention."
Harry thanks me, and we say goodbye, deciding not to waste time on the platform. We exchanged phone numbers back at Hogwarts—it's much more convenient than owls.
At the station, Susan and her aunt went through the barrier with me and met my parents. The adults needed to discuss the order in which Susan and I would visit each other. Hannah isn't allowed to visit the Muggle world—they don't trust its safety.
Hooray, holidays!