Summary: The room of requirement is soooo much more than a magic room that can become a training room or a storage room or a loo. It can become a doorway fulfilling hopes, dreams and salvation.
Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix, Chapter 18
"…it is a room that a person can only enter,' said Dobby seriously, 'when they have real need of it. Sometimes it is there, and sometimes it is not, but when it appears, it is always equipped for the seeker's needs.
Chapter 1
Thursday,
October 31st, 1995
11:55 PM
Harry Potter hurried along the 7th floor corridor towards the Room of Requirement, whilst keeping a wary eye on the aged piece of parchment in his hand. Reaching the stretch of blank wall opposite Barnabas the Barmy's tapestry, he gave the map in his hand a last glance. Seeing no one was near, he relaxed. Filch and Mrs. Norris were moving along the third floor corridor and Snape was stalking along the Great Hall heading towards the dungeons. He carefully cleared the map and folded it, placing it into a pocket in his robes beside his father's cloak.
Standing in thought, he reflected on what had brought him here so late at night and what he wanted to do. It had been just over three weeks now since Dobby had told him about the Room of requirement. Three weeks since the first DA meeting. Three weeks since Hermione had nominated him to be the leader of the defense of the Dark Arts study group. Three weeks since everyone started looking to him to teach them how to protect themselves.
It was something that filled him with pride and awe that his fellow students would trust him with this and yet at the same time filled him with apprehension that he was not up to it… and fear that he would fail. Because he himself was just a fifth year student. Because he didn't know how to teach. Because he didn't know how to lead. And that people would die because of him.
Just like Cedric.
It was a miasma of worry and fear that had clouded his thoughts for weeks. Harry had been trying to keep it to himself. Just like his detentions with the toad. He couldn't let them see how it affected him. If he did … well, he was sure that he would fail. And everything would fall apart. But then, just an hour ago while getting ready for bed, he had had an idea. Or rather he had remembered something Dobby had said.
"…it is a room that a person can only enter,' said Dobby seriously, 'when they have real need of it. Sometimes it is there, and sometimes it is not, but when it appears, it is always equipped for the seeker's needs.
And that gave him an idea. If he could phrase his need in the right way, maybe the room could help him to learn how to teach his friends and fellow students better, how to be the leader they needed. How to save their lives.
He paced back and forth along the corridor, his mind racing with dozens of thoughts, plans and hopes, unable to settle on any one thing. Yet throughout them there was a common theme of "I need something, someone to teach me how to teach them, how to lead them, how to save them."
Harry did not realize it, but something wondrous was about to happen, something truly magical. Something far beyond the bounds of what ordinary witches and wizards called magick. For that night was the night of Samhain. The night of Beltane. The night, legends say, when the door to the otherworld opened. And the souls of the dead might walk the earth once more. And fairies and spirits and demons and other magical beings worked vengeance and mischief and wonders upon the ordinary world.
To invoke a great work of magick such as the Room of Requirement in a castle renowned as a great reservoir of magical power … to invoke a room where thoughts are made reality … to invoke a plea for help … and a unfocused plea at that … on such a night when the barriers twixt worlds become thin … at the height of the witching hour … is to court the notice of Gods.
Harry didn't notice when the door appeared, but when he did, he stopped and stared at it in hope and trepidation. He slowly reached out his hand and opened the door and walked in.
He found himself in a homey room that reminded him in many ways of the Burrow. A cheery fire burned in a large fireplace at the side of the room. The lighting was rather dim with only one or two lights burning in the corners. Simple but well made furniture filled the room and pictures, too far away to make out the contents clearly, adorned the walls.
Harry looked around in puzzlement, trying to figure out how this room was going to help him. He started walking towards the pictures on the walls. If they were magical, maybe they could tell him what he needed to know.
Then he heard a moan. And a giggle.
What?
The sounds came from the other side of a wide comfy looking sofa where he couldn't see. Harry took a step forward and saw them. A couple, sitting on a thick furry rug, snogging in front of the fire. A man with longish, black messy hair. With round glasses. Who looked so much like the image he saw in the mirror that he could be his…
His gaze snapped to the woman, but her back was turned to him. All he could see was red hair.
Red hair.
Harry stared in shock, his thoughts whirling frantically and bouncing everywhere in the confines of his skull.
"Mum? Dad?" he half whispered, half croaked in a voice filled with longing and hope.
He only vaguely registered it when the man whirled away from the woman, drew a wand and shouted "Stupefy!"
Everything went black!