Loren was so drowsy from reading the big book that he no longer wanted to read. Instead, he planned to visit the mysterious Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.
The corridor on the eighth floor was quiet.
Loren passed by the paintings one by one. One caught his eye—a picture of a wizard teaching six trolls to dance.
At first, the trolls moved seriously, twirling their big sticks in rhythm. But soon impatience got the better of them, and they began beating the wizard with their sticks. Loren almost laughed out loud at the absurd scene.
He paced back and forth before the wall opposite the painting, silently thinking, I need a clean, tidy Internet café box—with a sofa and a 4090 graphics card.
Suddenly, a white door appeared on the wall. Loren exclaimed, "I've come to the right place!"
He opened the door and stepped inside.
The room perfectly matched his mental image: a computer, a sofa, and bright lights.
For a moment, Loren was dazzled. He pressed the computer's power button—nothing happened.
He pressed it again, several times. Still nothing.
As expected, the room was just a magical construct of the Room of Requirement. It wasn't a real computer.
The magic behind it was beyond Loren's imagination—mind-reading, visualizing an idea with magic, and perfecting details he himself wasn't fully aware of.
He suspected the builder was one of the four giants, not Slytherin. The Chamber of Secrets probably wasn't here. Gryffindor didn't seem like the type to build secret chambers. It must have been Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.
But now wasn't the time to speculate about the builder.
Loren left and focused his thoughts on needing a room to hide things. He repeated the thought several times, then pushed open the door.
Inside was a mountain of books, shabby furniture piled high, broken metal utensils, armor, and various magical items.
Sparse and scattered lights of different colors flickered among the debris.
Yet Loren's eyes were drawn to a bright blue glow, shining even through piles of clutter.
He made his way toward the source, weaving past stacks of books and rubble.
There stood a suit of armor wearing a crown.
The crown was shaped like an eagle with wings spread wide, dotted with fragments of blue gems along its feathers.
An inscription was carved below:
"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."
This was what Loren was looking for—the Diadem of Ravenclaw.
More than a decade ago, Voldemort had turned it into a Horcrux. After his second failed attempt to become Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he hid it here.
The movies suggested it was destroyed in a fire, without explaining its purpose.
Compared to the bewitching diary, the cursed Gaunt ring, or the pendant box guarded by a corpse and poison, Loren found it hard to believe the diadem would have no hidden defenses.
Loren was just a first-year wizard; his life mattered to him. He didn't want to touch the crown.
Silently, he memorized the location and planned to alert Dumbledore when the time was right.
After making this plan, Loren started examining the other things in the room.
These were relics hidden by Hogwarts students and teachers over the past thousand years—miscellaneous objects, weapons, books, and even love letters.
Peepholes and broomsticks were scattered everywhere, some broken in half, their weathered fractures visible.
Loren avoided touching the magical items, wary of what dangers they might hold.
He picked up a torn book lying beneath a stool.
The cover fell off as he pulled it out.
It was an old, mass-printed publication, its handwriting faded but still legible.
The printed text contained basic spells—some accurate, matching what Loren was learning now.
Other parts contained outdated and incorrect information long removed from modern textbooks.
These errors were circled in ink, with notes of doubt and conjecture written beneath.
Loren speculated it was an ancient Hogwarts textbook that a gifted student had begun revising.
A paragraph on the last page confirmed his guess:
Family is like a swamp, Hogwarts is my dawn.
I don't hate my numb mother and ignorant sister; I just hope that they...
The ink blurred at the end, but the signature was unmistakable: Miranda Goshawk.
Miranda Goshawk, the legendary witch who overturned hundreds of mistaken magical theories.
Her Standard Spells series was translated into 72 languages and became the basis for almost all magic school textbooks.
Her face even appeared on Chocolate Frog cards.
This was the handwriting of a prodigy who had shown incredible talent decades ago.
Loren scanned through the scattered manuscripts.
Some were published books, but most were handwritten—notes left behind by students or teachers while studying or teaching at Hogwarts.
Many names he recognized from his textbooks.
Some manuscripts were never published.
But Loren could barely understand any of it.
He was certain treasures lay buried within—spells invented by talented wizards over millennia, magic conjectures still unproven, and deep theoretical derivations.
Yet he was just a first-year wizard, enrolled only a week ago.
He felt frustrated, like a treasure hunter returning empty-handed.
I'll have to build a solid foundation first, he thought.
That afternoon, Loren practiced Transfiguration by the lake.
He repeatedly tried turning a fist-sized stone into a wooden lounge chair.
When his magic grew too weak to continue, the stone had only become a slab.
Loren lay down on it, basking in the sun as it slowly set, his whole body lazily relaxed.
Ron returned before dinner.
His family had never been so accommodating—even when he quarreled with Ginny, his mother scolded Ginny instead of him.
The happy weekend healed his heart, still recovering from Scabbers' torment.
Harry had slept through the day.
He swore he only wanted a quick nap before tackling his homework.
But suddenly it was evening.
Still, even if given the choice again, Harry would rather sleep than face the Transfiguration homework titled "Just Written Down." It was too comfortable.
In good spirits, the three chatted and played several games of wizard chess from the dining table to the lounge.
Although Ron verbally abused Harry throughout, they both enjoyed the matches.
Even before bed, Harry was still asking whether he should move the knight before being put in check in their last game.
Loren casually asked, "Harry, have you finished your Transfiguration homework?"
Harry and Ron's eyes widened in terror.
"Help!!!"