A/N: Thank you, Amber, for beta'ing :)

[830]


In the beginning, it is simply a room.

But, as is wont to happen in a place so imbued with magic, it does not remain simply anything for long.

It grows, gaining power from each object left behind, a trace of the owner's magic still present in each and every one. Until, eventually, the room is noticed.

Over the years, it gains many names — the Room of Hidden Things, the Come and Go Room, or, its personal favourite, the Room of Requirement — but never does it interfere.

That is, until one student breaks all of the unwritten rules, and uses the room. Uses it in a way that the room had never intended for itself to be used, that the room had once believed to be impossible, and brings the masked figures who carry death with them into Hogwarts.

After that, the room can wait idle no more.

.oOo.

It senses the boy outside, senses his fear and anger and hatred, and beneath all that, it senses his desire for somewhere safe. Not just for himself, but for his friends, and even those he does not know.

He walks past the room's hidden door once … and then continues on down the corridor. But the rules have already been broken, so it is without hesitation that the room reveals its door before the boy can walk out of sight.

The boy stops, turns, and it sees his eyes light up with recognition, a new hope forming within him. The room remembers this boy; he had been one of the students, a few years ago now, who had used it in the way it had intended. As a safe place, firmly within the confines of the castle, taking what they needed most at the time, and then moving on.

Not endangering the lives of those within the school, but enriching it.

And the room trusts this boy to continue doing such.

.oOo.

The room doesn't wait for someone to walk past the door anymore; if they need it, the room will simply appear, anywhere in the castle.

It will protect its students, in whatever way it can.

But there is so much fear within Hogwarts now, so much anger and pain and suffering, that the room needs to constantly grow.

It takes a lot out of it, but the room knows this is worth any amount of discomfort it may feel.

It will not turn anyone away.

.oOo.

Soon, however, the number of students grows to become more than the room can provide for, and so it must think of another solution. And, as much as it pains the room to do so, it must break its most sacred rule, and allow access into Hogwarts.

But it is able to control the access, allowing only those who it deems in desperate enough need to leave the school.

And, at the other side of the passage it creates, there is a guardian. A little girl whom the room does not recognise from her days at Hogwarts, but the room trusts her fully.

.oOo.

When the students leave the room, it had thought it would be glad — not because it wanted them gone, but because that would mean that Hogwarts was safe once more. But that is not the case.

Hogwarts is more dangerous than ever, and too many of its students are running towards that danger.

But the room is able to help some escape; not enough, but it is the best it can do in the time given.

.oOo.

During the midst of the fighting, which the room can be of no assistance in, it is accessed once more.

It cannot help but respond to the fear and need within the student, despite the obvious maliciousness of his mind. It thinks perhaps it can help this boy, not quite an adult, in some small way.

But then, the fire starts, and the room itself feels fear for the first time in its existence. This is no normal fire, and the room can do nothing to stop it. Can do nothing to help those trapped within.

.oOo.

Its door does not open for anyone anymore, and, overtime, the room becomes a myth. A story older students tell to those younger than them, of a room that provided assistance when it was needed most.

Stories that paint the room as what it had once hoped to be — somewhere safe, protected; a sanctuary for those in need.

But even the room knows they are not true; there are limits to its power, after all. It can only give out as much magic as people leave behind; in their unwanted objects, in the secrets they share within the room's walls.

Now that the trace magic is no longer being replenished, the room begins to fade, becoming what it once was. And it finds it does not have the energy to regret this.

Because, in the end, it is simply a room.


Prompts:

Hunger Games — HPFC: [word] Impossible, [emotion] Anger, [character] Neville Longbottom, [setting] Room of Requirement, [genre] Angst