HP: Redemption of The Platinum Boy

Chapter 52: The Room of Requirement

"Merlin's beard! What are you doing here?" Draco spun around, nearly suffering heart failure—if wizards could suffer heart failure.

"That's my question! Why are you here?" Hermione crossed her arms, her expression serious, as if she'd caught him red-handed. She raised her chin and demanded, "Where does this room lead? I've never seen it before."

"Can we discuss this elsewhere?" Draco glanced around nervously. Fortunately, no one else was passing by.

"No. Not unless you can explain all of this," Hermione said firmly.

Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating them both. Her eyes, beneath the combined effect of darkness and moonlight, shimmered with a captivating brown hue. Draco suddenly realized this color was somewhat similar to his wand wood.

"If I said I just happened to be wandering by, would you let it go?" he asked hopelessly, attempting a smile.

He didn't want to involve her in danger. The more one knew about Horcruxes, the more perilous it became.

As it turned out, Hermione wasn't easily placated.

"I don't believe a word of it! Sneaking away while everyone's celebrating..." She ignored Draco's pleas and narrowed her eyes dangerously. "I know you're up to something! I remember we once discussed the importance of honesty between friends, Draco Malfoy!"

She'd used his full name—Draco could tell the girl was angry.

Hermione Granger was furious. She'd been watching him all evening, had witnessed that flash of platinum through the Great Hall entrance, forcing her to abandon the celebrating crowd and follow at a distance.

She didn't even know if this violated school rules! Yet she'd slipped out after him without hesitation. She had to admit, she wasn't thinking clearly tonight.

She'd followed him impulsively and noticed he seemed preoccupied.

She deliberately kept her distance and slowed her pace, like an overly curious cat, trailing closely behind the boy.

To avoid arousing his suspicion, she'd maintained a certain gap, unaware of all his actions. She only knew he'd first gone to Ravenclaw Tower, then hurried to this eighth-floor corridor.

Nothing could be stranger! What was a Slytherin doing in these places?

Even more bizarre, in the blink of an eye, he'd vanished without a trace near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls.

She'd paced back and forth down the corridor, utterly baffled as to how she'd lost him. He clearly had no other escape route; even if he wanted to return to the Great Hall, he would inevitably encounter her.

However, he was nowhere to be found, as if he'd evaporated in the moonlight scattered across the floor. Just when she was dejected and ready to give up, he suddenly appeared behind a strange door that seemed to have materialized from the wall itself.

"I'd heard you liked hanging around Ravenclaw Tower lately, but I didn't believe it at first." Hermione suddenly recalled some gossip her roommate Lavender Brown had shared—via Parvati Patil's twin sister Padma from Ravenclaw—and she finally decided to believe it. "All right, open the door. I know she's in there!"

"Who?" Draco asked, completely bewildered.

She? The Grey Lady had been gone for quite some time now.

"Your girlfriend. I'll bet you two were having a secret rendezvous in there, weren't you?" Hermione said sternly, her heart filled with inexplicable displeasure. "I really don't understand what's so shameful about it."

Draco was shocked by her baseless accusation. It was utterly absurd! When had he acquired a girlfriend? How was he unaware of this? Did young witches all possess such vivid imaginations?

"You think I have a Ravenclaw girlfriend?" He was practically fuming. Who was this bored person spreading such rumors?

"Isn't it true? That friend you asked about on Luna's list—your mutual friend—is probably your girlfriend, right? I know she's a girl; Luna referred to her as 'she'!" Hermione pressed, staring intently as if to confirm whether he was being evasive.

"Of course not!" Draco was utterly exasperated. He looked at her, both amused and frustrated, wishing he could peer inside her head and see what bizarre thoughts were brewing there.

"No? Then what is it?" she demanded angrily, wondering where this anger was coming from.

Under the moonlight, the platinum-haired boy and the brown-haired girl stared at each other, their conversation at an impasse.

As they glared at one another, Hermione suddenly noticed from the corner of her eye that the strange door was gradually disappearing from the wall. The wall returned to its pristine state, as if the door had never existed.

"What happened?" Hermione forgot her quarrel with Draco and lunged at the wall, touching it frantically but finding nothing. "Where's the door?" she cried, hardly believing her eyes.

"Of course it disappeared! This is the Room of Requirement!" Perhaps because Hermione's bewildered reaction was somewhat endearing, Draco's weariness and melancholy were partially alleviated by her interruption.

He couldn't help revealing a hint of smugness as he explained, "You have to walk back and forth past the wall three times, concentrating on what you need—oh, how about thinking of a dating room, and see if there are any Ravenclaw girls inside!"

Hermione pouted skeptically and paced back and forth before the wall three times. He hadn't lied after all—the smooth door was once again faintly visible on the wall.

Draco chuckled inwardly; this naive girl had been fooled after all. He was certain that when they entered again, it wouldn't be that storage room. He calmly opened the door for her. "After you."

Hermione looked at his gentlemanly gesture and suddenly felt slightly breathless. She tried her best to remain composed as she walked through the door, not wanting him to notice her guilty conscience.

As Draco had predicted, the Room of Requirement's interior had been completely transformed.

The clutter had vanished without a trace. Before them stood rows of shelves, neatly arranged rare books, and antique study tables. The air was thick with the mingled scent of old parchment and new ink—a typical library arrangement.

"This place is amazing! It's exactly as I imagined!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly, looking around.

"So you think the library is an ideal place for a date?" Draco surveyed the room with interest.

"I..." Hermione was speechless.

She seemed to have inadvertently revealed some private fantasy about dating to a boy. This was decidedly not a good sign.

Draco noticed her dilemma and didn't press the matter. He simply said with a peculiar expression, "Anyway, first look around and see if my girlfriend is here."

It would be a miracle if she found anyone—that silly, know-it-all girl!

Hermione looked around thoroughly to confirm there was no one else besides the two of them.

"It seems not," she admitted guiltily in the silence.

"Are you certain? Absolutely certain?" His lips twitched as he was suddenly amused by her guilty expression.

"I think I might have been mistaken," Hermione said, lowering her head sheepishly, though a secret sense of relief welled up inside her. "You know, sometimes people jump to conclusions..."

"I thought you'd be more rational about gossip and rumors," Draco said, suppressing the urge to laugh. He turned toward the bookshelf, hiding his barely controlled expression.

If he laughed now, she'd most likely be furious.

His fingers glided casually over the spines of a row of ancient books, finally extracting one titled "Advanced Potion-Making: Rare Brews." He found a comfortable spot on the sofa in the room's center and settled in, then said to Hermione, "Why don't you sit down? Aren't you tired of standing?"

Hermione silently complied. She sat on the sofa beside him, staring absently at the fireplace.

She was utterly flustered.

How had things turned out this way? She'd originally intended to uncover some secret of his.

But now they were at her ideal dating location, sitting together and passing time?

Then she felt slightly embarrassed and secretly pleased.

Things were becoming increasingly peculiar.

"Are you hungry?" Draco noticed her unease and spoke up.

"No, I'm full," she said flatly. The feast had been too lavish; she hadn't digested it yet. Although she hadn't paid attention to what she'd eaten—she'd been too busy watching him.

"Then let's have some tea." Draco tapped the table with his wand, and a large steaming teapot with two cups appeared. For once, he wasn't in the mood to brew his own tea—his attention was already occupied by many other concerns.

The tea's color was different from usual. Hermione took a sip curiously, surprise crossing her face. "This is—hawthorn tea?"

"Yes. It aids digestion and cuts through richness," Draco said, taking a sip with a faint smile. "My mother enjoys experimenting with herbal teas. I've learned to prepare some myself."

"It's lovely," Hermione said, taking another sip. She had so many questions, and she wanted to ask him properly. But momentarily, she didn't know which to ask first.

"Why did you refuse the Award for Special Services to the School?" She'd already heard Harry and Ron's account of what happened in the Chamber of Secrets—he thoroughly deserved the award.

This was the second time Draco had been asked this question tonight. He was about to repeat the same excuse he'd given Harry and Ron, but she seemed to see through him. "Draco, I'm not stupid. If you're going to fob me off, you might as well just tell me directly that you can't answer; it wouldn't be the first time."

Last year in the Forbidden Forest, she'd kept a similar secret for him. He was always like this—preferring to work behind the scenes, do good deeds, then act as if it had nothing to do with him.

He was the strangest boy she'd ever met.

"Then I apologize—I cannot answer," the peculiar boy said bluntly.

Her understanding nature saved him trouble. In fact, Draco disliked evasiveness as well. He preferred straightforwardness to being treated like a fool. In this respect, they were surprisingly similar.

Hermione paused, not angry, but changed the subject. "Why have I never heard of the Room of Requirement before?"

That's one I can answer. With an unspoken apology for the previous question, Draco spoke more than usual. "This is a secret room at Hogwarts, known to very few. The Room of Requirement only appears when someone genuinely needs it. When it does appear, it's always configured precisely to meet the seeker's requirements. The user must concentrate on what they need and walk past that section of wall three times; then a door will appear."

Hermione's eyes filled with wonder. She looked around again and couldn't help sighing with amazement.

Draco admired her vivid expressions momentarily, then looked down at his book, hiding a sly smile. "All right, now you know what I've been up to. Nothing sinister—just exploring Hogwarts' various secret rooms."

"And what about you sneaking off to Ravenclaw Tower constantly? Your female friend—" she asked defiantly, clearly still bothered by the matter.

"I have a small connection with the Grey Lady, Ravenclaw's ghost," Draco said half-jokingly, turning a page. "You might have seen her tonight. She led me to the Room of Requirement."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in disbelief. She had indeed seen the Grey Lady. However, from her perspective, the ghost had only exchanged a few words with Draco before shyly drifting away.

She'd never considered this possibility—that Draco's mysterious Ravenclaw female friend might be a ghost.

"Now you see how absurd your assumption was?" Draco muttered, holding up the book to hide the slight upturn of his lips.

"Ah, it's her... I'm sorry, I think I misunderstood you," she said, suddenly wishing the floor would swallow her whole. Her anger had vanished without a trace.

Draco tilted the book aside, revealing his eyes, and looked at her in surprise.

Miss Know-It-All's apology came completely unexpected.

When the bushy-haired Hermione Granger looked at you apologetically with her bright, earnest eyes, you could only find her endearing and couldn't possibly be angry with her.

Draco simply couldn't muster any anger.

She looked so vibrant now, vastly better than when she'd been Petrified. Even angry, she was adorable—let alone apologetic.

He felt only relief. Relief that she hadn't been harmed.

Moreover, he himself wasn't entirely honest with her either.

"Never mind that. Anyway, how did you notice me leaving?" Draco decided to lighten the mood with a new topic. "I thought I'd slipped away quite cleverly. Everyone was busy celebrating."

He was rather concerned about this. Had many people seen him leave?

Otherwise, how had she noticed? She'd only recently recovered from Petrification. Why had she been watching the Great Hall entrance instead of enjoying the vibrant festivities?

"I was just coming to find you to thank you for saving Ginny," Hermione said, slightly embarrassed. She couldn't admit she'd been keeping tabs on him.

After being rescued by Draco, she'd developed a dependence on him she couldn't quite understand, and she couldn't help wanting to know his whereabouts. He seemed to have become a source of security for her.

But she denied it, deceiving herself. How could you expect a girl to easily admit how much she cared about a boy?

This put her in a moral dilemma—she demanded honesty from Draco while harboring her own ulterior motives.

Hermione was thoroughly flustered. She quickly sought something else to cover her tracks. "By the way, I'll admit it—you won the bet. I heard what Lockhart did, and that he tried to use a Memory Charm on you! Now I have absolutely no regard for him whatsoever."

"As it should have been," Draco said lazily. He glanced up at Hermione—she was staring absently at her teacup, looking rather distracted.

"He's not worth your sadness. There's no shame in being fooled by him. Just think of the crowds at Flourish and Blotts! So many experienced witches and wizards fell for his deception." Draco poured her more tea, attempting to comfort her.

"Thank you, Draco. I'm fine—I just need a little time to adjust," she said, frowning.

She didn't care about that despicable Lockhart at all right now. She was preoccupied with other matters—frustrated that she couldn't be "completely honest," and awkward that she was ashamed to admit her interest in him.

In this situation, what right did she have to demand anything from him?

She stole a glance at the boy beside her, whom she'd treated so harshly, and hidden guilt welled up inside. She wanted to say something to dispel the feeling, but then belatedly noticed the book in Draco's hand. "What are you reading?"

"Felix Felicis," Draco said, angling the book so Hermione could see. He'd only picked it up casually to ease the awkwardness, but hadn't expected such a pleasant discovery.

The Room of Requirement truly had all sorts of treasures, Draco thought to himself.

"I know what that is! It's Liquid Luck—the potion that brings good fortune, right?" Hermione leaned in with great interest. He always managed to find new subjects to study.

"Precisely," he said. Her hair fell across one of his arms, its color looking warm in the firelight.

"Draco, you're not planning to brew this potion, are you?" Hermione looked up at him, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. "What would you use it for?"

She stood very close, her face completely unguarded. This expression appeared more and more frequently when she looked at him.

Draco knew this was a side of her she would never have shown him in his previous life. But now, everything had changed.

He tried to adopt a stern expression again, attempting a cold demeanor to regain a safe distance between them. However, she moved even closer, completely disregarding his expression.

She seemed quite certain she wouldn't hurt him and confidently showed him her delicate features, small nose, clear eyes... Her blatant proximity made him slightly distracted.

"Just academic interest. I've only heard it's supposedly very difficult to brew," Draco said, coughing lightly, his face slightly flushed as he struggled to focus on his book.

In truth, he'd long wanted to attempt brewing Felix Felicis himself. In his previous life, he'd never forgotten Professor Slughorn's vial of Liquid Luck.

Just imagine—with a bottle of this, everything would be twice as effective. And if used at a critical moment—if Hogwarts faced another great battle, besieged by Death Eaters—he'd definitely need a dose to feel secure.

"That's not a convincing reason," Hermione thought, not believing he was merely conducting academic research. Draco was probably planning something again. He wasn't the type to do "useless work."

"Consider your own luck. Out of everyone in the entire school, it was you who encountered the Basilisk," Draco said with a chuckle. "If any monster ever appears at school again, I strongly suggest you take a dose."

"Oh, shut up! There won't be any more monsters at school!" Hermione blushed, clearly disapproving of his peculiar sense of humor.

But her gaze remained fixed on the book—Draco noticed this, and she hesitated.

"It's only for emergencies. You know Harry's trouble-attracting nature; he always gets himself into danger for no reason. As his friend, you're the first to be affected. I'm not suggesting you drink it daily. Overdosing causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence." Draco flipped through the pages, gesturing with his chin for her to look—there were quite a few contraindications and warnings associated with Felix Felicis.

Now her innocent demeanor vanished, replaced by a serious expression as she nodded and committed the words to memory.

"Brewing it is extremely complicated, and mistakes could have disastrous consequences," Hermione continued reading the text softly. She examined the instructions, her face showing uncontrollable, intense interest.

She carefully reviewed the ingredient list: Essence of Belladonna, Ashwinder eggs, Acromantula venom, Occamy eggshells, powdered common rue, fresh amaranthus petals, unicorn horn shavings and unicorn blood...

Her eyes widened in surprise as she gave a soft sigh. Her excitement had subsided. "It's impossible. Some of these ingredients are incredibly rare. Even if we found them, it would take six months to brew..."

"I'm not saying we should make it immediately; it'll take time to acquire the ingredients. What I mean is, if I can gather everything, at least we could attempt it..." Draco couldn't bear seeing her so disappointed and tried to comfort her in a lighthearted manner.

"We?" Hermione turned her head sharply, a few strands of hair sliding across his face and tickling him. She raised her voice awkwardly. "I never said I was getting involved—"

Her eyes clearly showed a strong desire to try. From the tips of her hair to the ends of her toes, she was filled with eagerness and curiosity.

She was truly the worst liar in the world.

At this moment, her thoughts were as transparent as a beautiful jellyfish in the Black Lake.

Draco decided to encourage her.

He softened his voice, his pale gray eyes becoming incredibly gentle. "Please help me. I'll handle acquiring the ingredients, but brewing this potion is far more difficult than finding them. You're a master potion-maker who successfully brewed Polyjuice Potion; if even you can't brew it, I don't know whom else I could ask for help."

"That's very flattering... but you're a Potions expert yourself," Hermione said with difficulty. "The ingredients are so rare—what if I ruin them..." She didn't mention not wanting to brew it, but was only concerned about the ingredients.

"If we fail, it's my responsibility. If we succeed, we'll split the Felix Felicis equally—how's that?" Draco yawned and said lazily.

"Is it a deal?" She looked at him with sparkling eyes, completely captivated.

"It's a deal," he said, smiling smugly, clearly in excellent spirits. He looked at the girl nestled beside him, beaming, raised his hand, and gently touched her palm.