Classes had ended for the day, and most of the students had already retreated to their respective common rooms. The castle felt quieter now, its ancient corridors whispering softly with the echoes of unseen enchantments.
I made my way up to the seventh floor, my footsteps light against the old stone. To my left hung a tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy attempting to teach a group of trolls ballet — a sight both ridiculous and oddly fitting for Hogwarts.
I stopped across from it, closing my eyes. I need a place where I can train, study, and prepare without being watched.
Then I began walking — once, twice, three times — in front of the blank stretch of wall.
As I turned on the final pass, the wall rippled like water, and a grand wooden door appeared, glowing faintly with hidden power. I smiled. "The Room of Requirement… it really does exist."
I stepped inside.
The air shimmered with magic, and the room unfolded before me — vast, intricate, and perfectly tailored to my needs. To the right stretched a potion-brewing area, lined with cauldrons, shelves of labeled ingredients, and a self-stirring table enchanted to maintain constant temperature.
To the left was a training arena, its floor etched with dueling circles and protective runes. Dummy targets hovered in the air, awaiting my spells. In the far corner sat a bookshelf, stacked high with spellbooks — some I recognized from Hogwarts' library, others I suspected were far rarer, pulled from the room's infinite reserves.
And in the center, a lounge area with emerald cushions, a fireplace, and a single ornate desk — my desk.
"Merlin's beard," Abraxas breathed behind me. "What is this place?"
I turned to see him and Orion stepping through the doorway, their eyes wide with disbelief.
"A secret," I said with a faint smile. "A room that gives you exactly what you need… if you know how to ask."
Orion's gaze swept across the training floor. "So you made all this… for practice?"
"Yes," I replied. "We're Slytherins. We aim higher than everyone else. If we plan to rise, we need to be better — sharper."
Abraxas smirked. "And stronger."
"Exactly."
We explored the room for nearly an hour — Abraxas testing the dueling dummies, Orion flipping through spellbooks written in ancient runes, and me inspecting the potion station.
When I stepped before the shelves, I noticed one particular tome pulsing faintly with magic — Salazar Slytherin's "Codex of Serpentine Arts." My heir ring glowed softly as I reached for it, and the lock snapped open.
Inside, handwritten runes flowed across the pages — spells, enchantments, and potion recipes unlike anything in the school curriculum.
I could feel power humming beneath the ink.
Orion leaned over my shoulder. "That… looks dangerous."
"It is," I said quietly. "That's why it's perfect."
The three of us spent hours there — brewing, sparring, studying. Abraxas excelled at hexes, Orion's spell control was remarkably refined, and I… I could feel myself growing faster than ever. The system's influence, the blood of Merlin, and my newly awakened focus turned every lesson into mastery.
As the fire dimmed, I sat back, satisfied. "This will be our sanctuary," I said finally. "No professors. No spies. No eyes but ours."
Abraxas nodded. "Then it's decided. The three of us — we train here."
"Agreed," Orion added.
The room flickered softly, as though acknowledging our pact.
I looked around one last time — at the shelves, the runes, the quiet hum of infinite magic surrounding us.
The Room of Requirement had given me what I needed most — a place to become unstoppable.