History of Magic was dragging on like a dragon with a limp. The whole room felt like it was made out of old parchment and ghostly whispers, and the air was thick with the kind of apathy that only comes from listening to Professor Binns. The guy was a ghost, which was honestly impressive—he'd managed to be so boring in life that he'd become more boring in death. If there was a prize for most forgettable teacher in Hogwarts history, he'd win it hands down, no contest.
Harry was doing his best to stay awake, though his quill was now scribbling nonsense on the page in a half-hearted attempt at note-taking. Next to him, Jean was using her own quill as a makeshift wand, twirling it absentmindedly between her fingers as she fought the same battle. She wasn't the biggest fan of ancient goblin uprisings either, but at least she was trying to look like she cared. Her eyes flickered over to Harry, then to the clock on the wall, then back to the clock—about a hundred times.
Ron, however, was already halfway into the land of nod, his head propped up by his arms like a ragdoll who'd given up on the world. He made a muffled noise of protest that sounded like a cross between a grunt and a snore. "Can't this class end soon?" he groaned, his voice muffled by the desk, as though he was trying to talk through a pillow. "I swear, I'm this close to asking for a Time-Turner just to escape."
Hermione, sitting next to him, rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ron, it's History of Magic, not a snooze fest. We can't just wish it away. We need the information. It's important!" Her voice, despite the frustration, was still clipped and controlled. She'd probably even mapped out the lecture's key points on the back of her hand in case Binns called on her. But even she was fighting the yawn creeping at the back of her throat.
"Fine, fine." Ron muttered, slouching even lower, clearly not caring. He muttered something about finding a "more exciting way to nap."
Jean, ever the optimist, cast a sideways glance at Harry. Her expression said it all: a mix of boredom and the faintest flicker of hope, like she was holding onto a thread of something exciting that might happen—eventually. "At least the Room of Requirement sounds promising," she murmured, her voice an octave lower, as though they were in some secretive operation. "We might actually find something useful there. Not just listen to Professor Binns prattle on about goblin treaties from 1000 years ago."
Harry's eyes lit up at the mention of the Room of Requirement. He was already mentally checking out of the class, his mind whizzing ahead to their little expedition. "Yeah," he muttered, the edges of a grin tugging at his lips. "Finding other mutants could be... monumental. Who knows what we might uncover. Maybe an ancient mutant artifact or something."
He could almost see it: the Room of Requirement, all mysterious and cool, hiding some insane secret just for them. If it worked the way they thought it would, they could be uncovering something bigger than anything they'd stumbled across so far.
Professor Binns didn't seem to notice the growing rebellion in the back row of the class. He was lost in the age-old battles and treaties, his voice coming out in a monotonous drawl. It was like being stuck inside a history book that had been read way too many times.
"Now," Binns droned on, "in 1341, the goblin rebellion, fueled by mistreatment at the hands of the wizards—"
Ron snorted. "This is like the world's worst bedtime story."
Jean raised a brow, trying to suppress a laugh. "It's more like a snooze fest than a story."
Harry nodded, glancing at the clock. "Okay, maybe the goblin rebellion's important, but I'd rather be fighting something right now. At least that'd keep me awake."
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of ancient goblin gossip, the bell rang. It was like the sound of sweet freedom echoing through the room. Everyone scrambled out of their seats like the castle had just caught fire, eager to flee the clutches of history's most boring ghost.
Ron shot to his feet first, wiping drool from his chin with a grin. "I've never been so glad to leave a class in my life. I need a nap to recover from that. Hermione, can you help me find a way to sleep and study at the same time?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, but she wasn't entirely unamused. "You already manage to do that in every class, Ron."
Neville, who had been on the edge of life and death in his own way during Binns' lecture (i.e., trying not to faint from the boredom), stood up next. He looked like he'd fought an epic battle just to stay conscious. His face was flushed, and he looked like he'd had enough of ancient goblin uprisings to last a lifetime. "Right. I think I'll need a cup of something strong after that one."
Jean flashed him a teasing smile. "You're not the only one, Neville. That class could put a Blast-Ended Skrewt to sleep."
Ron grinned, waggling his eyebrows. "Now that would be a useful skill. Can we get that on a time-turner? I'd take an hour-long nap every time we're in there."
"I'm sure the Room of Requirement could do something with that," Harry said, still feeling the pull of their upcoming adventure. "But, for now, let's get to the common room and get ready. We've got a lot to figure out before we get to the Room. And I'd rather not go in completely unprepared."
With that, the group made their way out of the classroom, Ron still yawning like a giant, Neville trying to shake off his post-Binns fog, and Hermione already planning out their next move. Meanwhile, Harry and Jean exchanged a look, both feeling the same anticipation building up. The Room of Requirement was waiting for them—and who knew what they'd find inside?
One thing was certain, though: it was going to be anything but boring.
—
The common room was buzzing like a beehive on caffeine as students peeled off their school robes in favor of more practical attire. Harry, Ron, and Jean were getting geared up in athletic clothes, ready for whatever shenanigans lay ahead. Hermione, ever the picture of practicality, opted for a simple, comfortable outfit, though she looked like she was mentally cross-referencing her notes for every possible outcome of the evening's mystery. Neville, true to form, had a slightly dazed but excited look in his eyes, like someone who had just discovered that broccoli might not be the enemy after all.
Ginny, Fred, and George arrived in a whirl of Quidditch robes, as if they'd been born in them. Fred's grin stretched from one ear to the other, his energy practically leaking out of him in waves. George, trying to look cool but failing miserably (not that anyone cared), winked at the group as he bounced on his heels, like an over-caffeinated spring.
"Oi, everyone!" Fred shouted, flinging himself onto one of the armchairs with the dramatic flair of someone who was both a professional and a show-off. "You ready to find out what's behind the Room of Requirement? We've got a feeling it's more than just a secret broom closet."
"Yeah," George added, grinning like a cat who'd just found a particularly interesting mouse. "And if it's not... well, Quidditch practice will make up for it. Gotta keep the edge sharp, right?"
Ron, looking like he might drift off at any moment, groaned, "Honestly, if Quidditch is what you two call 'practice,' I'm pretty sure we're all in trouble."
As they chatted, the twins headed over to Harry, their eyes twinkling with a conspiratorial gleam that could only mean one thing: trouble. Fred handed him a folded piece of parchment, the edges already slightly worn.
"Thought you might need this," Fred said, his voice low and deliberately mysterious.
"Uh, what's this?" Harry unfolded the parchment, squinting at it.
For a moment, there was silence, the world seeming to pause around them. The parchment was... well, the Marauder's Map. Harry's heart skipped a beat as he recognized it.
"Wait," Harry said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "You've had this since first year?"
"Yep," George confirmed, popping the 'p' like he was too cool for this entire conversation. "We liberated it from Filch's office after our first year. Didn't really know what it was at the time. But we figured it out."
Fred beamed proudly. "It's yours now, mate. Marauder blood and all that. You're a Marauder's son—and well, you know, godson."
Harry felt a rush of gratitude wash over him, like someone had just handed him a piece of his dad's legacy. "Thanks," he muttered, not really knowing how to process it. "This... this is perfect."
Hermione, who had been watching this exchange with a furrowed brow, leaned forward, her curiosity evident. "What's so special about a piece of parchment?"
Harry smirked, rolling his eyes. "You're about to find out."
With a flourish, he tapped the map with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he said, his voice dripping with the kind of mischief that could only come from the son of a Marauder.
The map shimmered to life, revealing a detailed blueprint of Hogwarts, with tiny dots moving around it. Names were written beside the dots, each one marking the location of a person somewhere in the castle.
Hermione gasped, her hands clutching her notes as she leaned in closer. "Wait, it shows the entire castle and everyone in it?"
Jean leaned in, her eyes flashing with intrigue. "It's like a magical GPS. That's... insane. How does it even work?"
"Long story short," Harry said, a grin spreading across his face as he looked down at the map, "my dad and his friends made it. It's brilliant for navigating the castle... and avoiding trouble. Though, it also helps you find it, if you're feeling adventurous."
Fred and George exchanged an amused glance, their faces lit with a devilish gleam. "It's not just for avoiding trouble," Fred said. "It's for finding it too."
Hermione, her mind already whirring with ideas, put a hand to her chin. "This could help us find mutants. Or hidden rooms. Or other places no one else can get into."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Exactly. But we need more than just the map. We need to figure out how to find the other mutants."
Jean, who had been quiet for a moment, her gaze intense, spoke up, her voice a low murmur. "And that's where the Room of Requirement comes in. If anyone can help us figure out what's going on, it's that place."
With the plan set, the group began to head out toward the seventh floor. Their footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor, anticipation hanging thick in the air. As they moved, Fred and George exchanged one last glance.
"Don't worry, mate," George said to Harry with a grin. "Whatever happens, we've got your back."
"Just remember," Fred added with a wink, "if you get caught, you never saw us."
And with that, the group continued down the hallway, the excitement building with every step, the Marauder's Map glowing faintly in Harry's hand. They were about to uncover the secrets of the Room of Requirement—and maybe, just maybe, they were one step closer to finding out exactly what was going on with the mutants hidden in Hogwarts.
—
Harry paced back and forth outside the hidden entrance, his footfalls echoing in the hallway like a drumbeat in a battle march. His mind was racing—mutants, magic, mysterious books... it was all starting to feel like one giant, magical conspiracy. The Room of Requirement, as usual, was being its temperamental self. Harry was half-expecting it to appear in a puff of smoke and a flashy "ta-da!" but instead, it took its sweet time. Typical.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of staring at a blank wall (which, honestly, was getting really old), the door slid open. It looked like it was trying to be cool and secretive, but Harry didn't care. He was just relieved it wasn't making them wait any longer.
Jean, who had been hovering nearby like a cosmic guardian, stepped up next to him, her eyes flickering with a mixture of curiosity and power. "It feels... alive in here," she murmured, sensing the magic swirling around them.
The door swung open, and they stepped inside. The room unfolded before them like the set of a magical rummage sale, the kind where you're not sure if you're about to discover a treasure or a cursed lawn gnome. There were dusty old books, strange trinkets, and bizarre contraptions that looked like they'd been stolen from a mad scientist's lab. The whole place had an air of eccentricity, and Harry half-expected a giant clock to appear with a voice announcing, "You've entered the Twilight Zone."
At the center, like some sort of mystical pedestal from an Indiana Jones movie, stood an object of great importance—a book glowing softly. The room really wanted to make sure everyone knew that this was where the action was.
Fred and George, predictably, made a beeline for a stack of enchanted rubber chickens that seemed to squawk on their own. "What do you think, George?" Fred asked, already holding one up to his ear like a mobile phone.
"I think this could use a bit more... zap," George replied, already summoning a spark of magic.
Ron, who had been eyeing the room like a badger in a field of honey, couldn't resist a chuckle. "Honestly, guys, do you have any idea how much trouble we'd be in if we let those loose during a prefect meeting?"
"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud, Ron," George grinned, flicking a rubber chicken into the air. "We're just testing it. Strictly for scientific purposes."
Ron shot him a skeptical look, but he couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, sure. 'For science.'"
Meanwhile, Hermione and Percy were having what could only be described as a Very Serious Discussion™ about the academic potential of the Room of Requirement. Hermione was practically glowing with excitement as she picked up a dusty tome from a nearby shelf. "This could be a treasure trove of lost magical knowledge!" she said, her voice practically buzzing. "The amount of rare spells we could—"
"Exactly," Percy chimed in, his eyebrows furrowed with that special brand of Percy Weasley determination. "I've been thinking about how we could organize the Room's potential. Imagine how much we could do with a proper—"
"Yeah, yeah, we get it," Harry interrupted, not because he wasn't interested, but because he was way more focused on the glowing book that was calling to him like a beacon in the night.
Jean, looking over at Harry, raised an eyebrow. "Go on, Harry," she said with a grin. "I have a feeling that book wants to show you something."
With a small nod, Harry walked toward the pedestal, his fingers itching with curiosity. The book's pages shimmered as he got closer, and when he peered at the inscribed names, he nearly gasped. His eyes flicked over them quickly:
Harry James Potter
Jean Elaine Grey
Susan Angelica Bones
Daphne Amaranth Greengrass
Neville Frank Longbottom
Luna Pandora Lovegood
Harry blinked. "This is... weird. The book has our names on it."
Hermione squinted at it, her brow furrowing. "Do you think it's a list of potential mutants? It would make sense—it could be a way to identify people with special abilities, like... like a magical census."
Jean, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, seemed to be piecing it together. "Wait, Luna's on here. Do you think she's one of... us?"
"Well, Luna has always been a bit... out there," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. "But she's got a way of seeing things. Maybe she's got abilities we don't know about."
Ginny, who'd been listening to the conversation with a half-smile, chimed in, "I can talk to Luna. She trusts me, and I don't think she'd mind me asking about this."
Harry nodded gratefully. "Perfect. Let's find out what Luna knows."
While the others were still processing the implications of the list, Fred and George were, of course, already ten steps ahead in the planning department. They were off in the corner, debating the best way to prank the entire Slytherin house using enchanted rubber chickens as an army of chaos. "Imagine the look on Malfoy's face when they start squawking," Fred said, eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Oh, it'll be glorious," George agreed. "But we need a backup plan, just in case they—"
Before they could finish, the book shimmered again, and a new name appeared.
Cedric Amos Diggory
The room fell silent. The name hung in the air like a lightning bolt, crackling with mystery. It was a new name, another potential mutant, or maybe just another twist in their already complicated quest.
"Well, that's unexpected," Ron said slowly, a puzzled look crossing his face. "Cedric? I mean, he's... he's the one who—"
"Yeah, yeah, we know," Fred cut in, "The one who all the girls swoon over. But what's his name doing in a book like this?"
Harry wasn't sure what to think, but one thing was certain: the game had just gotten even more interesting. And knowing Harry Potter, that was never a good sign.
"Okay," Harry said, turning to the group. "Let's go find Luna, and figure out who else is on this list. Things are about to get a whole lot stranger."
—
Cedric Diggory was, to put it mildly, having one of those nights. You know, the kind where everything feels just a little off, like when you wake up in a dream and can't quite figure out what's real and what's just your brain deciding to mess with you. He was sitting on the edge of his dormitory bed, staring at his hand, the same hand that had just—weirdly—healed itself after he accidentally sliced it open on a corner of his bedside table. One second, he was watching blood well up from a small cut, and the next, his skin was smooth and unmarked. No scab. No scar. Just… normal.
Now, Cedric wasn't a stranger to magic, obviously. He'd grown up in it. But this? This was something else entirely. Magic didn't work like this—at least not in Cedric's experience. He'd done the whole "Accio" and "Lumos" routine, of course, but healing himself without even trying? That was a level of wizardry he didn't remember seeing in his textbooks.
Cedric sat there for a moment, blinking at his now-perfect hand. He even gave it a little poke for good measure. Nope. Not a single sign of injury. "What in the name of Merlin…" he muttered to himself, half expecting to look up and find the Room of Requirement had transformed into a giant, glowing question mark.
Then, just to keep the fun going, he felt a strange sensation along his fingers. It was like a whisper—a pull—but not of magic. No, this was something more physical. Something more real. Cedric glanced down and nearly jumped out of his skin when a set of sharp claws extended from his fingertips.
"What the—?" Cedric yelped, jerking his hand back. He stared at his now-extended claws, glinting in the moonlight streaming through the window. "Okay, no. This is not happening. This is definitely not happening."
But, sure enough, his claws remained. They looked sleek, sharp, and very much not something that could be easily ignored. He waved his hand in the air like he was trying to swat away a very aggressive fly, but the claws stayed put.
Cedric took a deep breath and, deciding to take control of the situation, carefully retracted the claws back into his fingers. He could've sworn the floor beneath him sighed in relief. "Right," he muttered, "let's just… calm down. This is fine. Totally fine."
He gave his claws another experimental flick, just to test them. Out they came, like two shiny, silvery blades that had no business being on a perfectly normal young wizard's hand. Cedric could feel his pulse racing as his brain tried to process this in a way that made sense, but it just didn't. His life wasn't supposed to include claws. Or self-healing. Or… well, anything that wasn't strictly regulated by the Ministry of Magic.
"I mean, I've always wanted to be more like one of those cool, brooding heroes in a dark fantasy novel," Cedric muttered, pacing back and forth. "But I didn't exactly ask for the claws, did I?"
In fact, if Cedric was being honest with himself (and he always tried to be), he had no idea what was going on. One minute, he was dealing with the usual problems of being a Hufflepuff Prefect—sorting out schedules, avoiding Fred and George's practical jokes, trying not to let his crush on Cho Chang ruin his concentration—and the next, he was becoming whatever this was. A mutant? No, that sounded ridiculous. There was no such thing in the wizarding world. Or was there?
Cedric stared at his claws again, shaking his head. "Yeah, no way this is just a 'special skill' from learning too many transfiguration spells." He glanced around the room, half-expecting someone—anyone—to walk in and confirm he was having a weird, wizard-induced hallucination. But no, it was just him and the sudden, very unexpected transformation.
He let out a sigh. The room was quiet except for the sound of his breathing and the occasional soft rustle of his robes as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other. He looked out the window at the moon, its light casting long, cold shadows across the room. For a second, Cedric almost wished he could go back to being a normal Hogwarts student. You know, the one who didn't have to deal with the wild stuff like unexpected healing powers or claws that seemed to have a mind of their own.
But then he smirked, running a hand through his messy hair. "Who am I kidding? This is actually kind of cool. A little terrifying, but cool." He rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of his new abilities, like he was carrying around a secret he wasn't ready to share with the world.
"Alright, Cedric Diggory, Hogwarts Champion," he said to his reflection in the window. "You've got some serious upgrades going on, and you've got no idea what the heck to do with them. But hey, at least this gives me something to work with for the Triwizard Tournament, right?"
But as he said it, a nagging thought lingered in the back of his mind: What if these powers weren't just some strange side effect of his magical heritage? What if they were something else? Something… darker?
For now, Cedric kept his secrets to himself. No sense in alarming anyone. After all, he wasn't entirely sure what he had yet. But one thing was for certain: life at Hogwarts had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
And if he had to start facing down dragons or whatever was coming next, he'd at least do it with a set of claws that could probably slice through anything.
"Yeah," he whispered, grinning a little. "Bring it on, world."
—
The Room of Requirement had never looked quite so… lively. It was like someone had thrown a party, but instead of streamers and balloons, there were ancient magical artifacts stacked to the ceiling, and a shimmering map of Hogwarts that practically begged for a game of wizard hide-and-seek. The group had gathered, forming an unusual yet tightly-knit team, ready to dive headfirst into the unknown.
Harry, standing in the middle of the room, looked like someone who had just inherited a time-turner and had no idea what to do with it. He scratched the back of his head, looking around at his friends. "Alright, gang, let's get this sorted," he said, clearly trying to channel his inner leader, even if he wasn't quite sure what was going on himself.
Jean, with her trademark serene confidence, shot Harry a reassuring smile. She was still getting used to the new powers coursing through her—after all, it was a bit hard to focus when your telekinesis was strong enough to move the entire contents of the Room of Requirement with just a thought. "Cedric's in for a surprise," she said, leaning back against one of the shelves, her gaze soft but steady. "But he won't be alone. We'll show him that he has a place with us, that we're all in this together."
Fred, never one for subtlety, nudged George. "So we've got mutants, magic, and apparently, Cedric's going to get a crash course in all of it?" His eyes lit up with that familiar spark of mischief. "This is gonna be fun."
George grinned. "Could be like a magical superhero team-up movie. Who's our villain, though? I'm thinking Malfoy. He'd be perfect as the over-the-top evil genius type."
Ron, who had been flipping through a random book on magical creatures, looked up, his brow furrowed. "I'm more concerned about Cedric. He's probably still trying to figure out what's going on. And with everything happening so fast, it's gotta be a bit much."
Hermione, who had been studying the glowing parchment that mapped out their next steps, looked up at Ron, her eyes narrowing with focus. "I know. That's why we need to take it slow. We can't expect Cedric to just accept this new reality overnight. And we need a plan for how we're going to help him."
Ginny, who had been standing off to the side, arms crossed, looked at Harry with determination in her eyes. "I'll talk to Luna. She's always had a… different way of seeing things. I think she'll understand what's happening better than most people."
Jean tilted her head thoughtfully, her voice almost whispering, "Luna's special. Her perspective on the world could be key in helping us understand everything."
"You're not wrong," Harry agreed. He turned to the twins, who were practically vibrating with ideas. "Fred, George, can you two focus on creating a safe space to practice these powers? The Room of Requirement is the perfect place for us to get some hands-on experience."
Fred raised his eyebrows. "You mean, like a training ground? One with no risk of blowing up the castle?"
"That's exactly what I mean," Harry said, his eyes glinting with determination. "We need to be ready. And if we can't have fun while doing it, what's the point?"
"Leave that to us," George said, with a sly smile. "We'll make sure it's both safe and entertaining. A little bit of chaos never hurt anyone."
Neville, who had been standing quietly by the window, gazing out at the Quidditch pitch, finally spoke up. "We've got this. We all have each other's backs. It's just...weird, isn't it? One moment, we're just students, and now we're dealing with mutants and magical powers."
"Well, that's just the typical Tuesday around here, right?" Ron chimed in, making everyone laugh. He grinned, then added, "I mean, we've fought a basilisk, defeated Voldemort a few times, and now we've got mutant powers on top of it all. It's practically routine."
Ginny smiled, squeezing Luna's arm gently as they walked out to the Quidditch pitch. "We'll take it one step at a time. Luna will get it. She's...special. And Cedric, well, he'll come around. We just need to show him that being different isn't a curse, it's something to embrace."
Harry watched them leave, feeling a strange weight settle on his shoulders. "We can do this," he muttered to himself, barely audible over the breeze that rustled the trees. But deep down, he knew they could.
Later that evening, after a quick Quidditch practice that was less about flying and more about dodging weird, accidental bursts of telekinesis (thanks to Jean), the team reconvened in the Gryffindor Common Room. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, and the group huddled together, heads bent over a set of plans.
Ginny was the first to speak up. "I'm ready to talk to Luna. She's not going to be afraid of these changes, and I think she'll help us keep things grounded."
Harry nodded. "Once that's done, we'll go to Cedric. If we can make him feel like he's part of this, we can help him understand what's happening. We'll be a team."
Fred leaned back in his chair, glancing around at the group. "And once we have Cedric and Luna in on the plan, we'll get to work. But I think we need to focus on getting these abilities under control first. We don't want to blow up the castle…again."
"Again?" Ron asked, looking over at Fred. "When was the first time?"
Fred winked. "Let's just say there was an 'accident' with a potion and a misplaced spellbook. The less said about it, the better."
The entire room erupted into laughter, the tension of the day slipping away for a moment. Percy, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up. "We need to stay organized. We can't afford to be careless about this."
"I agree," Hermione said, her voice more serious now. "We need to treat this like a real mission. It's not just about finding out what's going on; it's about helping each other through it."
Harry looked at his friends, his team. "Tomorrow, we go to the Room of Requirement and get this started. We'll train, talk to Luna, and find a way to help Cedric."
The night fell silent as the group drifted off to their dormitories, each of them carrying the weight of what was to come. But they also carried the strength of their friendship, and that made all the difference.
As Harry lay in his bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but feel the stirrings of excitement. This was just the beginning. And if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that no matter how strange things got, they were all in this together.
Tomorrow would be the first step into something new. And whatever it was, they were ready.
---
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