Harry stormed through the corridors, causing people to stare and sparking conversations as he went. The student population of Hogwarts was forever looking at him.
Anger filled his mind. Yet another lesson was wasted by Umbridge, another day of Ron and Hermione's constant bickering, and another stream of whispers behind his back. It was all eroding away at his already thin temper. He was so close to snapping. He didn't even know where he was storming to, just away. Away from all the problems for a moment, he just wanted a slither of peace. A moment to collect his thoughts away from his chaos-filled life.
Without even realising it he found himself on the 7th floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, by the currently hidden entrance to the room of requirement. He paused in front of the wall, a passing group of friends giving him a strange look as he stared. Maybe the room could help him with his troubles... Or at the very least give him a break, somewhere to escape his problems.
He started to pace up and down the corridor, the same thought repeating in his head, 'I need something to make my life better. I need something to make my life better. I need something to make my life better'
He spun and looked back at the wall and watched as a wooden door formed over the bricks. He couldn't help but smile, constantly impressed by the magic of the room. He whispered to himself, "Well, let's see what you have for me this time..."
He swung the door open, took a step inside and looked around. This time the room had taken the shape of nothing more than a small office space. The walls were filled with ornate wooden bookshelves, and a pair of dripping wax candles hanging from the wall at the back. Instead of a desk, A large stone altar sat in the centre of the room, placed on it a book whose pages looked perfectly new. A floating quill dipped itself in a seemingly self-refilling pot of ink before furiously scribbling across the pages at a pace Harry didn't think was possible. A page filling in mere seconds.
As he walked further into the room he could see each of the books had a similar binding, having no author or title on its spine, merely a number. Each book was ordered in line with its number, Harry couldn't help but reach out to the book titled "One", he flicked open the front cover, the pages of this book seemed incredibly old, having slowly turned colour with time. The page opened with,
Rowena Ravenclaw creates the Hogwarts Handbook
The book continued to go into explicit detail into not just what Rowena Ravenclaw felt and did, but what the other founders felt and were doing. It was like a chronicle of everything that happened in Hogwarts. He quickly put the book back in place before he ran over to the Alter in the centre of the room, he quickly read the most recently written page.
Harry Potter discovers the Hogwarts Handbook in the Room of Requirement
Hermione Granger is in the Gryffindor Common room, about to start writing an essay
Malcolm Baddock heads up to his dormitory, planning to read a magical crime novel
Harry's thoughts ran amok, was this book detailing everything that had ever happened in Hogwarts? He watched in awe as the book listed more and more students and their current activities, a thought quickly flicked across his mind that maybe this was the source of the marauders maps powers
Up in the far corners of the room, one of the books slowly slid of the bookshelf, hovering in the air. Rather than a number on the spine this one had the infinity symbol, It seemed to be in perfect condition, like it had never even been read. Once in front of him, the book automatically opened to the first page, which was completely empty.
Harry stared at the book for a few moments, before its pages started to fill with words, not describing events, but this time addressing him.
Hello, Harry Potter, me and the other books in this room are known as the Hogwarts Handbook, a chronicle of everything that has ever been in this school. It is a pleasure to meet you.
A quill appeared in his shaking hand, almost demanding him to write back. His mind was filled with memories of Tom Riddle's diary, of Ginny's possession, of the Basilisk. But this didn't seem as dangerous, and the room of requirement had conjured it up, so it couldn't be evil, right?
A pot of ink appeared to his right, floating in the air. He hesitantly dipped the quill in, before righting back.
Do you really know everything that has happened at Hogwarts?"
His words slowly faded out, being replaced by the next message.
I not only know everything that's happened here but I can be used to control what happens too. All of the grounds of Hogwarts are under my control. I know every secret, every passageway and every painting. I know the story behind every brick and the memories of every person. The shelves that you see in this room are just a fraction of my infinite collection of records.
Harry's mind struggled to comprehend everything he was being told, the book could control what happened in Hogwarts? Why had it let so many bad things happen then? Could it truly know everything? How was the book conscious? Could it access the information from all of its records? He took a deep breath to organise his thoughts, before writing back.
You can control what happens at Hogwarts? How? Why would you let so many bad things happen in Hogwarts?
If the book could sigh, it would of, but it's hard to sigh without a mouth, or well, any body parts. Instead, the corners of the pages furled inwards slightly, almost like it was embarrassed.
Sadly, it is not that simple. Oh so long ago Rowena created me, gave me my mind and my personality, I was to record everything that happened on these grounds, and when Rowena wrote her desires in me, I could make them reality. It was how most of Hogwarts was built, and she always claimed I was her greatest creation. Even greater than her Diadem.
Before her death, she made sure my abilities were restricted, I could never use my powers myself. I would have to be written in, unless someone walked in front of the wall, and requested for something 3 times. Then I could grant them their specific wishes.
In her dying moments, she told me that one day, I could pick a student to write to me once more. That student is you, Harry Potter
Harry was rooted where he stood, he held potentially Hogwart's greatest artefact, and not only that, it had chosen him specifically. He couldn't help himself, he immediately scrawled back.
Why me? You must have waited hundreds of years, why did you pick me out of everyone?
The book slowly turned itself to another page, the pages puffing out and arching forwards.
I've waited over 1000 years in fact. And yet in that time, no student has come into these walls like you Harry Potter. You care deeply about Hogwarts, it has become your home, and you care even more about your friends and those tied to this castle. For that reason alone, you are a worthy choice. And that is just one of many.
Harry couldn't help but blush at the words. It was impossible to believe he could really be the, most suitable student for this in over a thousand years, but he wasn't going to argue with something that knew literally everything about Hogwarts. His mind was already racing with ideas.
How do you control reality?
The book promptly responded.
I don't know, all I know is that when someone requests something of me, I make it happen. From what I understand, the muggle-borns would think of me as some kind of Genie.
Harry was infinitely excited, he could kick Snape out of Hogwarts, Draco would never bother him again, he wouldn't have to deal with Umbridge, maybe he could bring Lupin back to teach, he could stay at Hogwarts and never have to go back to the Dursley's.
He took a deep breath, maybe he should start small.
So, if I can ask you for anything, can I ask for something small, like to have some treacle tart appear?
Almost immediately a small table appeared to his right, with a plate and a slice of treacle tart atop it. Harry's mouth hung open as he spun back to look at the book.
As you can see, it's very possible, Harry Potter. The limits of my power are nearly endless, what more do you wish for?
Harry was filled with excitement. His whole body shaking, what did he want first? Maybe his own room? He liked the rest of the Gryffindor boys, but not having to hear Ron's snores every night would be a godsend. Could he change people's memories? Or how they think? Maybe he could make it so no one noticed him having a separate room? He quickly scrawled into the book.
If your powers are nearly endless, can you change the way people think, change what people remember?
The book didn't respond for a few moments, as if taking its time to answer.
I've never been asked to do that, but I am certainly capable, is that what you want?
Harry immediately scribbled back.
It would make things easier for me, I don't want everyone wondering why things are going how I'd want them to. I'd rather keep this book a secret from everyone
The book which was being written in on the desk ahead suddenly slammed shut, hovering itself up onto a bookshelf as a new blank one appeared in its place before the Quill started scribbling away again. But Harry's eyes were focussed on the other book in front of him.
Of course Harry Potter, why don't you tell me exactly what you want
Harry took a deep breath before writing, making sure he had exactly what he wanted in mind.
I want my own room in Hogwarts, but I don't want anyone to question why I have my own room, or for anyone to think it's unusual. I want it to be as normal as everyone else's rooms, and for them to think I've always had it
The book shuddered for a second, glowing blue and getting brighter and brighter. So bright Harry had to cover his eyes. Then, just as quickly as it came, it died back down.
As Harry looked around the room again, he could see that some of the bookshelves had parted to make way for a large wooden door. His eyes quickly flicked back to the book.
There we go Harry Potter, this door will take you straight to the very top of Gryffindor Tower, where your new room is. If you would like, you can take me there, and we can continue
Harry eagerly took the book into his hands, gently shut it, and took the quill from the air with it. Before he pushed through the door.
The room was larger than the 5th-year boy dormitories, pushed against the wall was a large grand bed, that had red covers. The floor was made out of dark, polished wood. Opposite the bed was a desk, placed in front of a window that overlooked the great lake and the quidditch grounds. Hedwig perched from a log that hung by the window. He could even see all the way to Hagrid's hut.
On another wall was an everlit fireplace, next to a wardrobe and mirror, his trunk and belongings already moved into the room. There was also a spiral staircase, which he assumed would take him down to the Gryffindor common room. Harry was taken aback at how nice the room was, he quickly sat himself down at the new desk and flipped open the book.
Is the room to your satisfaction, Harry Potter?
Harry quickly wrote back what to him, was the only logical response.
It's brilliant, this is the nicest bedroom I've ever had. I'm incredibly excited to do more with your powers.
The book's pages riffled as if it was laughing.
And I am excited to do more for you. Just open it and write to me whenever you have any requests
Harry nodded to himself before closing the book, he wanted to go see whether the thought alterations had really worked, and the book had said earlier Hermione was in the common room. So he quickly went down the spiral staircase, finding that his room was at the very top of the staircase that contained all the other boy's rooms.
He walked out into the Gryffindor common room, where Fred and George were telling a grand overexaggerated story to a group of excited first years. He spotted Hermione by the table next to the fireplace, eagerly writing away at presumable another essay.
He walked on over, sitting in the chair just behind her, "Evening Hermione."
Hermione quickly flicked around, a look of relief on her face, "Oh there you are Harry! Don't just go storming off like that at the end of a lesson, I was worried about you! I was sitting here worrying you were going to do something stupid!"
Harry tried to hold back his smile, he always found it comforting how much Hermione worried about him, even if it could be overbearing at times... like handing his gifted broomstick to the teachers. He tried to apologise to her, "Sorry Hermione... but I am fine now, I just went to cool off somewhere, what are you working on?"
Hermione gave him a glare at his attempt to change the subject but went along with it, "An Arithmancy essay on the ties between different spells. It's pretty interesting. I had never thought about how similar some spells are to others."
Harry smiled, while this essay did sound kind of interesting, he was pretty sure Hermione could find any magic-based homework interesting. Or, actually, just any homework interesting. "I'm glad you can enjoy it Hermione, but can you take a minute to help me with something, I have a few things I need to figure out."
Hermione quickly nodded her head, closing her textbook and stuffing her parchment into her bag, eager to help one of her only friends, "Of course, what can I help you with Harry?"
"Perfect, one second!" Harry's eyes flicked around the room before pulling out his wand and muttering, "Muffliato", making sure they wouldn't be overheard, "Okay, this is going to be an odd question, but, do you find it odd that I have my own room, Hermione?"
Hermione frowned, "No, why would I find that odd? Everyone else sleeps in dormitories and you sleep in your room, there is nothing weird about that. Why do you ask?"
Harry took a moment to digest the information, it seemed like the book not only had made it seem normal, but even when thinking about it Hermione reached the same conclusion, it was like her logic had been overwritten. He took a deep breath, then said, "Okay, can you come up to my room Hermione?"
She quickly agreed to come up with him, picking up her bag and the rest of her belongings before walking up the spiral staircase with him. He pushed open the door, "So, you remember coming in here before?"
Hermione tilted her head, and looked at him, "Of course, why wouldn't I have been in here? I and Ron have come up to your room plenty of times"
Harry took another deep breath, and it had managed to rewrite her memories too. It seemed the powers of this book really were endless.
He pretended to shake his head, "Okay, sorry Hermione, it's been an odd, hard day."
Hermione gave a sympathetic smile, but her curiosity wasn't truly satisfied. "Is that all you wanted to ask me, Harry? Or did you need my help with something else?"
It was then Harry had a much dirtier idea than just giving himself an extra room, if he could rewrite people's memories... rewrite people's thoughts... then maybe he could have some fun with the girls of Hogwarts.
He looked Hermione up and down, while she wasn't wearing her robe, the rest of her Hogwarts uniform remained very conservative, she wore a long skirt with her tights, flat shoes and a very loose shirt, with buttons done all the way to the top and her tie laying exactly down the centre.
He quickly replied to Hermione, "Just stand right there, I need to write something down!"
He walked over to the desk and flipped open the Hogwarts Handbook, scrawling down the words, I want Hermione Granger to wear a shorter skirt, and for no one to pay attention to it other than me, not even her
His works quickly sank into the page, before being replied with,
Consider it done, Harry Potter
As he went and looked back at Hermione he could see her shirt now resting on her upper thigh, just enough that her ass would be totally covered while walking, but not enough to hide it if her skirt flipped up. His eyes went wide as he saw it.
Hermione however acted perfectly as normal, "Are you sure you are okay Harry? You are acting kind of off."
Harry pulled his eyes away from her legs, "Uh! Yeah, sorry Hermione, I'll be fine" He couldn't help but think of more ways he could change her outfit. He could make her show more skin, make her clothes tighter, and force her to show off her assets. His mind was overcome with lust as he wrote into the book,
Hermione Granger wears thigh highs instead of tights, and her shirt is tight, only I pay attention to this change
Looking at her again Harry could see the bare skin of her thighs where her new thigh highs ended and before the skirt started, her shirt was pulled close to her body, showing the size of her breasts and the outline of her bra pressing through the shirt.
He couldn't help but stare at her, he had never realised how pretty Hermione was, her body often hidden behind her robes, and then her loose, conservative clothes. Her outfit was now almost slutty, his mind was filled with even dirtier ideas of things he could do with Hermione.
Hermione quickly spun around, her skirt flaring up and revealing her satin white panties, and a perfect view of her ass to Harry, "Well, I'm going to head back down to do my essay, if there isn't anything else, Harry?" She said over her shoulder.
Harry quickly scribbled something in the book, it might not have been the correct thing to do, but he couldn't help himself.
Hermione Granger lets Harry Potter grope her as he pleases
He quickly walked over to her by the staircase, "There is just one thing Hermione..." he took a deep breath before reaching out with his right hand and groping at one of her breasts. Even through the shirt and the bra, he could feel how soft they were, their size easily filling up his hand. He quickly let go after, looking into Hermione's eyes to see how she reacted.
She seemed totally unfazed, as if this was a normal occurrence between the two of them, "You seem to really enjoy that Harry! Remember you can do that any time, but I really have to go work on this essay, so I'll see you later, okay?"
Harry nodded his head, with a wide grin on his face, he couldn't believe he could make Hermione so casual about that. The girl he knew rarely wore makeup, let alone took the time to wear a slutty outfit and let a man grope her.
He looked at the book, still smiling, it seemed like Hogwarts was about to get a lot better for him, maybe he should get started on one of his essays though...
He reluctantly got one of his Herbology textbooks before sitting down and starting to write.