The Room of Hidden Things became Edmund's sanctuary.
He visited it every night after the Slytherin common room had emptied, slipping through the dark corridors while the portraits slept and the torches burned low. The room welcomed him each time, its door appearing without hesitation now, as if it had been waiting for his return.
He spent his evenings reading *The Hidden Ways* by the light of the floating candles, taking notes in his journal, and exploring the endless piles of forgotten objects. The book was dense, filled with references to magic he had never heard of—ley lines, foundational wards, the ancient enchantments that kept Hogwarts standing after a thousand years. He understood perhaps half of what he read, but he kept reading, trusting that the rest would become clear with time.
The room provided him with whatever he needed. When he wanted to practice spells, a target appeared in the corner. When he wanted to read, the desk was clear and the candle burned bright. When he wanted to think, the window showed the stars, and the silence was absolute.
He was making progress. The system told him so.
**Skill Progress – End of February**
Charms: Novice (48%)
Transfiguration: Novice (38%)
Potions: Novice (42%)
Defence Against the Dark Arts: Novice (28%)
Herbology: Novice (24%)
History of Magic: Novice (18%)
Astronomy: Novice (20%)
**Hidden Ways Skill Tree:**
Ley Line Theory: Novice (8%)
Founders' Wards: Novice (5%)
Room Mechanics: Novice (15%)
**XP:** 218 / 400
---
One evening, as Edmund was reading about the ley lines that ran beneath the Black Lake, he heard a sound from the far end of the room.
It was soft—the scrape of a foot on stone, the rustle of fabric. He looked up from his book and scanned the shadows. The piles of forgotten objects stretched into darkness, their shapes indistinct in the torchlight. He saw nothing.
He listened. The sound came again, closer this time.
A figure emerged from between two towering stacks of furniture. It was a boy, older than Edmund—perhaps a fifth year, or a sixth. He had dark hair that fell across his face, and his robes were neat but not expensive. He held a book under his arm, and he was looking at Edmund with an expression that was not quite surprise and not quite recognition.
"You're a first year," the boy said.
Edmund said nothing.
"First years don't find this room." The boy stepped forward, into the light. His face was sharp, intelligent, with eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. "It took me three years to find it. My father never found it at all. How did you do it?"
"I needed it," Edmund said.
The boy's eyes flickered. "We all need it. That's not an answer."
Edmund thought about the book in his robes, about the library stairs, about the hunger that had driven him to places first years were not supposed to go. "I read about it. In a book that was waiting for me."
Something shifted in the boy's expression. Respect, perhaps. Or recognition. "The library chose you."
It was not a question. Edmund did not answer.
---
The boy was silent for a long moment. Then he held out his hand. "My name is Solomon Weylin. I'm a Ravenclaw. Fifth year."
Edmund took his hand. "Edmund Prince. Slytherin. First year."
"Prince." Solomon's eyes narrowed. "The potions family."
"The last one."
Solomon nodded slowly. He looked around the room, at the piles of forgotten things, at the shadows that seemed to breathe. "This room has been here for a thousand years. It has seen everything. It remembers everything." He looked back at Edmund. "If the library chose you, and the room opened for you, then there is something you are meant to do. I don't know what it is. But I know that you are not the first, and you will not be the last."
He turned to go, then paused. "The books on that shelf—the ones you were reaching for on your first visit—they are not for first years. They are not for fifth years, either. They are for when you are ready. The room will tell you when that is."
He walked away, into the shadows, and was gone.
---
Edmund sat in the velvet chair for a long time after Solomon left, his mind racing. A fifth-year Ravenclaw, using the same room. That meant Edmund was not the only one who had discovered it. There were others—students who had found this place, who had used it for their own purposes, who had left traces of their presence in the objects scattered across the floor.
He stood and walked to the small bookshelf that Solomon had indicated. Seven books, each bound in a different material, each bearing a title in a language he did not recognize. He reached out, his fingers hovering over the first volume.
*They are for when you are ready.*
He pulled his hand back. Solomon was right. He was not ready. Not yet.
But he would be.
---
The days that followed fell into a rhythm. Classes in the morning, study in the afternoon, the Room of Hidden Things in the evening. Edmund read *The Hidden Ways* until he had memorized entire chapters. He practiced spells until his wand hand ached. He explored the room's treasures—a silver mirror that showed not reflections but memories, a music box that played songs from a century ago, a compass that pointed not north but toward the nearest source of powerful magic.
The system rewarded him for each discovery.
**Hidden Ways Skill Tree:**
Ley Line Theory: Novice (15%)
Founders' Wards: Novice (12%)
Room Mechanics: Novice (28%)
**XP:** 268 / 400
He was close to Level 4. Close, but not there.
---
In March, Professor Marchbanks announced that the first-year students would be tested on their practical spellcasting at the end of the term. The exams would determine which students advanced to second-year courses and which would be held back.
The Slytherin common room buzzed with anxiety. Horace Slughorn, who had been quietly confident all year, suddenly became pale and withdrawn. Cassius Warrington, who had barely studied, began spending his evenings in the library. Even Astrid Greengrass, who seemed to know everything, was seen reviewing her Charms notes.
Edmund was not anxious. He had been preparing for this since before he arrived at Hogwarts. He knew the spells. He had practiced them hundreds of times. But he did not want to simply pass. He wanted to excel. The system's tasks required it.
**Task: Achieve top marks in at least three subjects this term – In Progress**
He would need Outstandings in Charms, Potions, and Transfiguration at minimum. Defence Against the Dark Arts would be a bonus. He set his sights high and worked accordingly.
---
The practical exams were held in the last week of May.
Edmund moved through them like a machine. In Charms, he cast *Lumos*, *Reparo*, and *Wingardium Leviosa* with flawless precision. Professor Marchbanks nodded approvingly and made a note on her parchment. In Transfiguration, he transformed a matchstick into a needle—straight, silver, sharp—in under thirty seconds. Professor Wainwright said nothing, but his eyes followed Edmund as he returned to his seat.
In Potions, Professor Burke had them brew a Cure for Boils. Edmund's potion was a perfect turquoise, the bubbles rising in the steady rhythm that Burke had demonstrated in September. Burke examined it, sniffed it, and set it down without comment. But he did not criticize. That was enough.
In Defence Against the Dark Arts, Professor Merrythought had them demonstrate the Knockback Jinx. Edmund's spell sent the target dummy skidding across the floor. Merrythought smiled.
"Excellent, Mr. Prince. Full marks."
---
The written exams followed. Edmund answered every question, filled every page, left nothing blank. When the results were posted on the last day of term, he stood with his classmates in front of the Slytherin common room bulletin board and scanned the list.
**First Year Final Results – Slytherin House**
**Edmund Prince**
Charms: Outstanding
Transfiguration: Outstanding
Potions: Outstanding
Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding
Herbology: Exceeds Expectations
History of Magic: Exceeds Expectations
Astronomy: Exceeds Expectations
He had done it. Four Outstandings, three Exceeds Expectations. He was at the top of his year.
The system pulsed.
**Task: Achieve top marks in at least three subjects this term – Complete**
*Reward: +100 XP*
**Level Up!**
**Level:** 4
**XP:** 18 / 800
**Skill Tree Unlocked: Social Cunning**
Edmund dismissed the interface and walked back to his dormitory. His trunk was already packed. The train would leave in the morning.
He was going home. But he would return.
---