The Room of Requirement had never felt more perfect.
Bathed in the soft glow of enchanted lanterns and filled with the gentle crackle of a fireplace, it had shaped itself into a cozy hideaway just for the two of them. The worries that usually clung to Harry like a second skin—Voldemort, the Prophecy, Malfoy, even Ron—seemed to melt away in the warmth of Ginny's presence. They spent the afternoon sprawled across a plush sofa, tangled in each other's arms, laughing, talking, stealing kisses in between soft silences.
It was the most peace Harry had felt in weeks.
At one point, nestled under a charmed blanket that never got too hot or too heavy, their conversation drifted toward the inevitable question: what now? How were they going to explain this—them—to their friends?
Ginny had been the one to suggest secrecy, at least for a while. Not because they didn't trust Ron, Hermione, Neville, or even Colin and Demelza—but because she wanted a little time. Time for just the two of them, without teasing or prying questions or sideways glances in the corridors. Time to enjoy the fragile beginning of something real.
Harry had agreed, almost immediately. Not out of fear, but because the idea of keeping this small, happy secret—just between them—felt a little like magic in itself.
By the time they finally pulled themselves away from each other, the sky beyond the enchanted windows was turning dusky pink. Ginny left first, with a lingering kiss and a mischievous smile, and Harry followed about fifteen minutes later, heart still light.
Unfortunately, his homework hadn't magically completed itself in the meantime.
With a reluctant sigh, he headed toward the library, determined to make up for the two weeks of procrastination he'd spent brooding and daydreaming—and now, apparently, snogging.
….
Ginny stepped through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, trying to look as casual as possible. She had barely taken two steps before she was ambushed.
"There you are!" Demelza called, springing up from one of the armchairs. "Where have you been?"
"You disappeared with Harry right after breakfast," Colin added from where he was sprawled on the rug, books forgotten in his lap. "And neither of you came back until now. That's hours, Ginny!"
Ginny raised an eyebrow as she pulled off her cloak and draped it over the back of a chair. "Blimey, Colin, I didn't realise you were keeping a timetable on me."
Demelza grinned. "Don't try to change the subject. What were you two up to?"
Ginny shot her a look that was equal parts exasperation and amusement. "We were setting up that trap for Malfoy, remember? Took a while."
Neville, who'd been quietly listening from a corner, frowned. "Yeah, but we saw you leave the Room of Requirement… just now."
"So?" Ginny said, sitting down and stretching her legs like someone who'd just had a very long and very innocent day. "We went our separate ways after setting things up. I spent the rest of the day on the Quidditch pitch."
Demelza squinted at her. "Flying. For hours."
Ginny shrugged, looking perfectly unbothered. "Clears the mind. Good for the reflexes. And I don't have three feet of Charms homework breathing down my neck like Harry does."
Neville looked unconvinced, but Colin was already laughing. "I guess that's fair. I still say you're both being weird, though."
"Thank you, Colin," Ginny said sweetly, ruffling his hair as she passed. "You're such a comfort."
She dropped onto the couch, grabbing a cushion and hugging it to her chest—heart still fluttering just a little from the memories of the afternoon. Luckily, she'd always had plenty of practice keeping her feelings hidden from her brothers. A few nosy friends would be easy.
Still, she made a mental note to warn Harry: their friends were watching—and closely.
….
Harry had spent the rest of the afternoon in library, smile across his face showing up anytime he remembered the hours spent snuggling with Ginny. With his girlfriend.
He went to the library with the plan to calm himself down, so he would face their friends - and their questions that were without a doubt coming - but it wasn't exactly working. He really should work on his poker face. Even with all the daydreaming he managed to finish two essays and start another one, but then it was time for dinner and he prepared himself to face people.
He went to the Great Hall a was pleased to find out that he's here first - this should make things easier. After some thoughts he decided to pretend he's still his moody self, realizing that for the life of him he wouldn't be able to explain the shift in his mood without mentioning Ginny.
Harry kept his head down as Ron, Hermione, and Neville took their usual seats at the Gryffindor table. He stabbed at his potatoes as if they'd done something to offend him, trying his best to summon the brooding aura he'd perfected over the last few weeks.
"Where have you been all day?" Ron asked, glancing at him suspiciously as he reached for a bread roll.
Harry shrugged. "Library."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Really? All day?"
"Mhm," Harry replied, keeping his tone neutral. "Had a lot to catch up on."
"That's funny," she said, her voice light but probing. "You look... almost relaxed."
Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. "Relaxed? Right."
Neville tilted his head, studying him. "Well, you don't look miserable, anyway."
"Thanks, Neville," Harry muttered, trying not to smile. He didn't dare look toward the entrance.
Then, as if summoned by his thoughts, Ginny walked into the Great Hall. She looked radiant, cheeks flushed from the evening air and hair slightly windswept. She caught his eye for the briefest moment and gave him a smile that made his stomach flip.
She sat in her spot beside Harry, bumping her knee lightly against his under the table. He tried not to react. A moment later, her hand brushed his as she passed him something small and crumpled under the table.
Harry opened it cautiously on his lap, shielding it with his napkin. Ginny's tidy script greeted him:
Hi, boyfriend.
Demelza suspects everything. Colin too.
Hold steady. More kisses later if you don't blow our cover.
— G.
Harry bit back a grin and stuffed the note into his pocket, cheeks burning. He could feel Hermione's eyes narrowing across the table like a hawk spotting prey.
"So," she said slowly, "you were in the library... the whole time?"
"Pretty much," Harry said, straightening up. "Just me and a stack of essays. Thrilling stuff."
Harry gave what he hoped was a tired, indifferent nod, then went back to his food.
He was once again saved by school owl bringing him another invitation to Dumbledore, which he happily accepted - he was worried about more profound interrogation from Ron and Hermione as soon as they went back to Gryffindor Tower.
….
Harry expected to learn more about Voldemort's past, and as he climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office, he prepared himself for another visit to the Pensieve. But after knocking on the door and stepping inside, he was surprised to see that Dumbledore wasn't alone—sitting opposite him was a very exhausted-looking Remus Lupin.
"Er—hello?" Harry greeted uncertainly, caught off guard by the unexpected guest.
Remus stood with a grunt, but smiled warmly as he crossed the room. It looked like he was going to hug Harry, but changed his mind at the last moment and settled for a pat on the shoulder. Harry watched him with an amused expression, oddly comforted by the fact that he wasn't the only socially awkward one in the room.
Professor Dumbledore motioned for them both to sit, his expression serious.
"You're probably wondering why you're here today, Harry. This won't be another lesson. We have some serious matters to discuss," Dumbledore said, and Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"It has come to my attention that your living situation with the Dursleys is... less than ideal. Arthur and Molly Weasley brought some unsettling information to my attention at the last Order meeting. With the help of Remus, they've urged me to take action."
Harry blinked at him, unsure where this was going.
"When I placed you in their care after that horrific night in Godric's Hollow, I believed it was the safest option," Dumbledore continued—but Harry couldn't help a disbelieving snort.
"Er—sorry. Please, go on," Harry muttered, shifting again.
Dumbledore didn't comment on the interruption. "I believed the old blood magic would take effect—magic that created strong protective wards around the household. But such magic only works if you view the house on Privet Drive as your home. So I must ask you to be honest with me, Harry. Do you consider the Dursleys' house your home?"
Harry was silent for a long moment, staring at his hands. He wanted to speak, but embarrassment held him back. It felt like whining to complain about his life in Surrey, especially to someone like Dumbledore, who had so many larger concerns. But Dumbledore was watching him intently, and if he'd asked, he must have had a reason.
"Honestly, Professor," Harry said quietly, "I haven't seen that place as home since my first day at Hogwarts."
"Could you elaborate for us, Harry?"
"They're... not nice people. They don't want me there, and I don't want to be there either."
Dumbledore's gaze remained steady, piercing, and Harry found it too intense—he turned instead to Remus, whose sad smile met his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Remus said gently. "I know this must be an unpleasant conversation. But it's important that we understand what you went through."
Harry felt like a caged animal, cornered. Anger flickered inside him—didn't they see how much they were asking? His thoughts flew to Ginny, wishing she were here. Her presence would've made this easier.
He stood up, struggling to find words, then turned away and lifted his shirt, revealing the lower part of his back. He knew there were still faint scars—reminders of when Vernon had lashed out with a belt after Harry had burned breakfast, years ago.
"Is this answer enough for you?" he asked bitterly.
Remus and Dumbledore exchanged horrified glances. Harry dropped his shirt and sat down again, face hard, jaw clenched.
"So they beat you," Dumbledore said quietly, as though discussing the weather. The casual tone made Harry's blood boil.
"They beat me. Starved me. Locked me in a cupboard. Humiliated me. Treated me like a house-elf," he spat through gritted teeth.
The silence that followed felt endless. Remus buried his face in his hands, and Dumbledore stared at his desk, eyes full of sorrow.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Dumbledore said after a long pause—and to Harry's surprise, he sounded genuinely remorseful. The anger inside Harry faltered slightly as he looked at him, confused.
"I knew you weren't a happy child the moment I saw you at your Sorting. But I never imagined the depth of your unhappiness. I wanted to believe the Dursleys were merely emotionally distant. I must confess that age sometimes makes me... naive. I should have stopped it long ago—or better yet, never placed you in their care at all."
Harry stared at him, stunned. He had never blamed Dumbledore for his home life.
"But now that we know the truth," Dumbledore continued, turning to Remus, "we can change things. Hopefully for the better."
Remus looked slightly nervous as he turned to Harry. "I have a proposition for you. I'd like to offer you a place to live. With me."
Harry's breath caught in his chest.
"I know I'm not Sirius. And I know there may be challenges, given what I am. But I want to start fulfilling the promise I made to your parents. And if you're willing... this could be the beginning."
Harry sat there, stunned. Between his cozy afternoon with Ginny and this moment now, he wondered if he might be dreaming the entire day.
Remus and Dumbledore watched him expectantly. Realizing he hadn't said a word, Harry finally found his voice.
Remus and Dumbledore were watching him fixedly and he realized he hadn't provide them with any kind of response.
„Yeah… Yes! I'd love to live with you, Remus!" He said, only starting to believe his luck, smile slowly showing in his face. „That'd be brilliant actually."
Remus smiled at him too with relief.
"Yeah... Yes! I'd love to live with you, Remus!" he said, his face lighting up in disbelief. "That'd be brilliant, actually."
Relief and joy softened Remus's features as he smiled back at him.
The silence lingered for a moment after Remus's offer, the weight of it settling on Harry like a warm blanket. But then Dumbledore, always a man of action when the time called for it, leaned forward, his eyes sharp and focused.
"Now, Harry," he began, breaking the silence, "I believe there are a few legal matters we must address, so we can ensure that you're taken care of properly. As you know, Remus has some restrictions placed upon him due to his... condition." Dumbledore paused, as if carefully choosing his words. "The Ministry, as a result of his lycanthropy, would not approve him becoming your legal guardian."
Harry nodded, feeling a rush of sympathy for Remus, who was now leaning against the desk, his brow furrowed.
"But," Dumbledore continued, a twinkle of mischief dancing in his eyes, "I've found a way around that. You see, Harry, due to the peculiar nature of your situation, the Ministry has made an exception. You are technically an orphan, with no legal family to speak of."
Harry blinked, confused. "But I have the Dursleys..."
"Legally, you don't. Not anymore," Dumbledore clarified gently. "They've never been recognized as your true guardians, only as a temporary measure. Now that we have the facts, we can ensure the Ministry recognizes the Dursleys as nothing more than a brief and unfortunate chapter in your life. Your legal status will change. Your living address, Harry, will officially be Hogwarts for the entire year. You'll be cared for by the school, and Remus will be able to act as your guardian, circumventing the Ministry's restrictions."
Harry's jaw dropped slightly. He hadn't expected anything quite so... complete. He was still digesting the fact that he'd be staying with Remus when Dumbledore's next words pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Everything will be sorted out soon, but for now, we'll handle the paperwork. I trust you won't mind having Hogwarts as your official residence?" Dumbledore asked with a small smile.
"Not at all," Harry said, a laugh escaping him as he felt a weight lift off his chest. "That's... amazing."
Remus smiled softly at him, his relief palpable. "Then it's settled. I'm glad to offer you a place with me, Harry. It's not a perfect solution, but it's the best we can do under the circumstances."
Harry's heart swelled. This was real—he wasn't going back to the Dursleys. He could finally have a proper home.
Dumbledore stood up, his face kind but firm. "Now, Harry, remember that there are things in this world we cannot always control, but we can choose how we respond. You're stronger than you know. And now, you have a support system—one that will be there for you no matter what. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me."
Harry nodded, trying to hold back the lump in his throat. "Thank you, Professor. For everything."
With a final, reassuring smile, Dumbledore ushered them toward the door. "It's my pleasure, Harry. Now, off you go. I'm sure your friends are waiting for you."
….
Harry bounded up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, the spring in his step barely contained. His mind was racing with excitement, still buzzing from everything that had happened in Dumbledore's office. He couldn't wait to share the news with his friends, especially Ginny.
When he pushed open the door to the common room, he immediately spotted Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sitting by the fire, talking in low voices. As soon as they saw him, their faces brightened.
"Harry!" Ron called out, standing up with a grin. "How did it go with Dumbledore?"
Before Harry could respond, Hermione glanced at him with curiosity. "Is everything okay?"
Harry's grin widened. "Better than okay. It's great, actually. I'm... I'm going to be living with Remus."
The words hung in the air for a moment, and Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wait—really?" she asked, looking between Harry and Ron.
Ginny, sitting a little apart from the others, locked eyes with Harry. A secretive smile tugged at her lips, but she quickly masked it, as if to avoid drawing attention.
"Yeah, really," Harry said, almost laughing at how ridiculous it all sounded. "It's all official. I'll be staying with him from now on. It's... it's like a dream, to be honest."
"That's brilliant, mate!" Ron exclaimed, slapping Harry on the back. "Finally, you won't have to go back to those horrible Muggles. I'm so happy for you!"
Hermione was nodding as well, her eyes glistening with approval. "You deserve this, Harry. I'm so glad it worked out."
Harry couldn't help but feel a deep sense of relief and joy. It was hard to believe this was really happening. He was going to be safe, truly safe, and he wouldn't have to return to the Dursleys.
But amidst his happiness, Harry shared a quick, knowing glance with Ginny. She gave him a small, secret smile, and his heart swelled. They didn't need to say anything out loud—he knew she was happy for him, but there was also that unspoken understanding between them. The small smile was enough to confirm what they both knew—they had to keep their budding relationship under wraps for now.
For now, it was a victory. And Harry was determined to savor it.
"Thanks, you guys," he said, his voice a little softer now. "I'm just... I'm finally starting to feel like I have a place to call home."
"Good," Hermione said, reaching over to give his hand a quick squeeze. "You deserve it."
Ron raised his eyebrows, glancing between Harry and Ginny, then leaned back in his chair. "Well, I'm glad you're happy. And hey—now we can all be happy together, right?"
Ginny's smile widened at that, though she quickly turned away, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. Harry couldn't help but smile back at her, knowing that the secret they shared wasn't just about their happiness—it was a symbol of everything they had yet to navigate together.
The conversation drifted to other topics, but Harry's mind remained on the future. For the first time in a long while, he felt hopeful. He wasn't just surviving anymore—he was living.
And that meant everything.
….
Harry was more excited about his morning run than he had ever been before. His friends had been incredibly supportive the evening prior, eager to celebrate his new home with him—but unknowingly, they'd also kept him from what he wanted most. He'd hoped they'd head off early, giving him a chance to spend a quiet moment alone with his girlfriend.
That hadn't happened. Ron and Hermione had stuck around until late, chatting and laughing, and Harry and Ginny had only managed to exchange a lingering, longing look before disappearing off to their separate dormitories.
Now, taking the steps to the common room two at a time, Harry hoped to find Ginny already waiting. But in his eagerness, he was early. He dropped onto one of the couches, eyes fixed on the staircase to the girls' dormitories.
Luckily, he didn't have to wait long—Ginny appeared just a minute later, her smile matching the excitement that bubbled in his chest. Harry jumped to his feet and strode across the room to meet her halfway, and Ginny practically launched herself into his arms.
What followed was a particularly heated snog, both of them entirely forgetting they were still very much in a public space.
"Hello, girlfriend," Harry murmured when they finally came up for air.
Ginny laughed, her cheeks flushed. "Hi, boyfriend!"
She dropped back to the floor and took a step away, though her eyes still sparkled. "We should probably be more careful if we want this to remain a secret."
Ginny reached out to straighten Harry's collar with a grin before they both headed toward the portrait hole. The castle was quiet, most of its inhabitants still fast asleep. Their footsteps echoed faintly through the empty corridors as they made their way down to the entrance hall.
"I still can't believe it," Ginny whispered, brushing her hand against his as they walked. "You're actually living with Remus now."
"I know," Harry said, his voice full of quiet joy. "I keep thinking I'll wake up and find it's just another weird dream."
They reached the front doors and pushed them open—and were immediately met with the steady drumming of heavy rain. A gust of wind blew in, scattering droplets across the stone floor.
"Brilliant," Ginny muttered, stepping back and shaking her head. "Did either of us notice it was pouring?"
Harry blinked at the downpour. "Not remotely. I was too busy thinking about seeing you."
Ginny gave him a soft look, then nudged his side. "Sweet talker."
Harry closed the doors with a thud and turned to her with a shrug. "Well, what now? You still up for some kind of morning adventure?"
A mischievous smile played on Ginny's lips. "Actually... what if we check the Room of Requirement? Malfoy might've taken the bait last night."
Harry grinned. "That's a much better idea than getting soaked."
They changed direction, heading upstairs through the winding hallways until they reached the familiar blank stretch of wall on the seventh floor. Harry paced three times in front of it, focusing on what they needed: a surveillance version of the room, set up just as it had been the day before.
When the door appeared, they stepped inside—Harry's heart beating just a little faster, not only because of what they might discover about Malfoy, but because he was finally alone with Ginny again.
"Do you want to do the honors?" asked Ginny, nodding toward the spot where they had poured the invisible ink the day before.
"Yes, please. The charm is so stupid, I just have to say it," Harry chuckled and cleared his throat. "Inkus glowus."
As expected, the ground beyond the door lit up again, but what made both of them smile was the set of glowing footprints leading from the entrance deeper into the room.
"It worked!" Ginny exclaimed with satisfaction. "Let's go—what are you waiting for?" she added and took off, following the glowing steps on the floor.
She reached for Harry's hand and intertwined their fingers as they ventured deeper and deeper into the room. It felt like they had been walking for an eternity—though in reality, it was closer to five minutes—when Harry saw they must be nearing their destination. There was a patch of brightly glowing floor ahead, as though Malfoy had spent a lot of time standing in one spot. The footprints overlapped so densely that they created a shining field of light.
Harry was too caught up in the excitement to notice the worried look Ginny threw toward one of the nearby piles of hidden treasures. She slowed her pace slightly, reaching out toward it with an odd expression, but Harry's hand was still holding hers, and he unknowingly tugged her along toward the glowing floor ahead.
The glowing footsteps ended at a large, covered shape in the center of the shining floor. As they approached it, Harry felt a strange chill run down his spine. There was something oddly significant about the object that stood before them.
Ginny, however, was only half-focused. She kept glancing over her shoulder, back toward the messy aisle they had passed earlier. Her brow furrowed deeply, and her steps had lost their bounce.
Harry noticed. He gently squeezed her hand, slowing them to a stop.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his eyes searching hers. "You've gone really quiet."
Ginny hesitated, clearly debating whether to say anything.
"I… I don't know," she admitted finally. "It's silly. When we passed that one pile, I just—suddenly felt… scared. Really scared. Like something was watching me." She laughed nervously. "It doesn't make any sense."
Harry didn't think it sounded silly at all. He looked back in the direction she meant, his expression cautious. "We can go check it out, if you want. Or we can leave."
But Ginny shook her head quickly, brushing the feeling off. "No. I'm fine, really. It's probably just the creepy atmosphere. Let's see what Malfoy was doing here."
Harry looked at her for a moment longer, unconvinced, but nodded. Together they turned to the object in front of them and carefully pulled the dusty cloth off.
The cabinet beneath was tall and old, its surface marred with scratches and the faint shimmer of magic. Harry suddenly remembered where he'd seen it before.
"Wait…" he muttered, circling it slowly. "This is the cabinet Montague got stuck in. The one Fred and George shoved him into last year."
Ginny's eyes widened. "The Vanishing Cabinet?"
Harry nodded slowly, pieces of a puzzle clicking into place. "It must be connected to another one somewhere else. That's what Malfoy's been doing in here… he's trying to fix it."
Ginny stepped closer, her voice tense. "Fix it so someone can use it."
"To get into Hogwarts," Harry finished grimly.
They exchanged a long look. The room around them suddenly felt colder, the rain tapping against the high windows above like a warning drumbeat. Whatever Malfoy was planning—it was bigger than they had imagined.
"We can't leave it here," Harry said after a long moment of tense silence.
"Do you think we should go get Dumbledore and show him?" Ginny asked, frowning.
Harry stared at the cabinet, weighing their options. They had no way of knowing how successful Malfoy had been in repairing it. What if the half hour it took to fetch Dumbledore made all the difference? What if someone was already on their way through it—right now?
"No," he said firmly. "Let's break it. Completely. Chop it into pieces and burn what's left. We'll explain it to Dumbledore later."
Ginny didn't hesitate. She pulled out her wand and began carefully slicing through the cabinet with Diffindo.
Harry looked around the surrounding junk piles, searching for something he could use to physically destroy it. He spotted a battered old war axe nearby, its handle stained with a suspicious reddish-brown color. Grimacing, he picked it up anyway, far too eager to see the cabinet reduced to splinters to worry about what that stain might be.
Between Ginny's precise spellwork and Harry's aggressive swinging, it didn't take long. Soon, the Vanishing Cabinet was nothing more than three messy piles of wooden shards and broken metal.
Harry returned the axe to where he'd found it, but on the way back to Ginny, he noticed an empty leather satchel tucked beside a broken chair. He grabbed it and brought it with him.
"For evidence," he said in response to Ginny's curious look, then knelt down to collect some splinters and metal pieces—the handle, a leg, and part of the hinge—and shoved them into the bag.
Together, they cleared the area around the debris, and Harry cast a quick Incendio to set the remaining wood alight.
Ginny watched the flames curl around the splinters, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.
"I'd almost feel sorry for Malfoy," she said. At Harry's sharp look, she raised her hands. "I said almost! I mean, if we're right, we just made him fail whatever task Voldemort gave him. Can you imagine the tantrum he'll have when he comes back and sees there's nothing left to fix?"
Harry snorted. "Yeah. I, for one, can't wait to tell Ron and Hermione. This could've ended very badly—just imagine who could've come through this thing. And they didn't believe me. Called me paranoid. Ha."
"Let's shove this information in their faces the second we see them," Ginny said with a mischievous grin, stepping up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist.
"Totally," Harry laughed.
The fire had died down by then, leaving only ashes in its place.
"So... crisis averted," Ginny said, brushing soot from her hands.
Harry turned toward Ginny, his heart still racing from the destruction of the Cabinet. The smoldering ashes at their feet were all that remained of what could've been a deadly threat, and he felt the urge to ground himself—to feel something real after such intensity.
He leaned in to press a soft, grateful kiss to Ginny's lips, just a brief touch. But the moment their mouths met, something shifted. Ginny's hands slid into his hair, and Harry pulled her closer, their relief and adrenaline melting into something far more urgent. The kiss deepened without planning, without thought. For a moment, the world around them faded, leaving only each other and the lingering scent of smoke in the air.
When they finally pulled apart from their unexpected snogging session, both were breathless, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. It took them a moment to collect themselves, hearts still racing from more than just adrenaline.
Ginny tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying—and failing—to hide her grin. "Let's get out of here?" she asked, her voice soft but slightly unsteady.
Harry nodded breathlessly and slid his arm around her shoulders. Together, they followed the glowing footsteps back toward the entrance.
But as they passed the cluttered aisle that had unsettled Ginny earlier, a wave of cold dread swept over both of them. Ginny stopped dead in her tracks, goosebumps rising on her arms.
Harry felt it too. He looked at her, heart beating faster.
They exchanged a frightened glance. Something was definitely not right.
Harry turned toward the mess of broken furniture and forgotten objects, his wand already raised. The oppressive feeling seemed to thicken the air, like a storm pressing down on them. Ginny stayed close to his side, her eyes scanning the shadows.
"There," she whispered suddenly, pointing toward a tall, cracked wardrobe that leaned precariously against a stack of crates. "Behind that."
Carefully, they approached. As Harry stepped closer, a strange chill crawled down his spine, and his scar gave the faintest prick of discomfort. He reached out, nudging aside a crooked lampshade and a torn tapestry.
Then he saw it—nestled atop a bust perched on a high shelf. A delicate, ancient-looking tiara, encrusted with a few dim, dusty jewels. The metal shimmered faintly, as if reacting to their presence.
"What is that?" Ginny breathed.
Harry didn't answer right away. His eyes were locked on the inscription barely visible along the edge of the crown.
Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.
He felt his stomach drop.
"I think we just found something... really important."
Harry lifted his arm to retrieve the tiara from its place, but Ginny caught it in a flash, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him back. He turned to look at her—and froze at the sheer terror in her wide, unblinking eyes. Her face had gone pale, and her arms were trembling.
"Don't touch it!" she shouted, her voice breaking as she began to hyperventilate.
"It feels wrong—it's dark, it's dangerous! Don't you touch it!" Her whole body shook, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears.
Harry quickly stepped back and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. He gently rubbed her back, trying to calm the tremors that ran through her limbs.
"It's okay, I won't touch it. Breathe, Gin," he murmured into her hair.
For a moment, all that could be heard was her ragged breathing slowly easing into steadier rhythm. Then, she leaned away from him slightly, her hands still pressed to his chest for grounding.
She looked up into his eyes and whispered, "It feels… it feels the way the Diary felt."
Harry stared at Ginny, her words sending a chill straight through him. The way the Diary felt. That was all he needed to hear.
His eyes flicked back to the tiara on the dusty shelf, suddenly seeing it not as some old relic but something far more sinister. He slowly reached into the leather bag they'd used for the cabinet pieces and pulled out his wand.
"I won't touch it," he said to Ginny "But we can't leave it here."
He pointed his wand at the tiara. "Wingardium Leviosa."
The object rose into the air. Carefully, he guided it into the bag, nestling it among the wooden and metal remains of the Vanishing Cabinet.
Ginny let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
They didn't speak as they left the Room of Requirement, the mood entirely changed from earlier that morning. The bag in Harry's grasp felt heavier than it should've, like it knew it carried something dark.
They were halfway to Dumbledore's office when they spotted him at the end of the corridor, standing in front of the stone gargoyle and speaking to it quietly—likely on his way to breakfast. Harry picked up his pace, but before he could call out, Dumbledore turned to them with a look of pleasant surprise.
"Harry, Miss Weasley—good morning. Is something the matter? If you could give me just a few—"
"No," Ginny said sharply, cutting him off with such sudden force that even Harry flinched. Dumbledore blinked at her in surprise.
"No," she repeated, her voice steadier now. "You need to hear this. Now."
Dumbledore studied Ginny for a heartbeat, his expression shifting from surprise to deep concern. He gave a small nod and stepped aside, motioning toward the gargoyle.
"Very well. Please, follow me."
The three of them rode the spiral staircase in silence, the weight of the bag slung over Harry's shoulder seeming heavier with every turn upward. Once inside the office, Dumbledore gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk but didn't sit himself.
"How may I be of service?" Dumbledore asked, his voice serious.
Harry took the bag from his shoulder and set it down on the headmaster's desk.
"We found something… ominous. It's inside, but maybe don't touch it?"
Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, and the bag opened itself, rising into the air before turning upside down. The desk in front of him was showered with the wooden debris from the Vanishing Cabinet.
Harry almost forgot it was in the bag. Since they'd found the eerie tiara, the destruction of the Cabinet seemed less significant. "Er… that's not it. It's part of the story. We'll explain later."
The bag hung in the air for a moment as Dumbledore made a few subtle movements, causing the remaining contents to fall onto the desk. The metallic parts of the Vanishing Cabinet landed first, and Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering what kind of game they were playing.
But finally, with a loud thud, the tiara appeared. The change in Dumbledore's expression was instantaneous. His eyes locked onto it, and his face hardened. He stared at it, unbelieving.
"It feels like the Diary, professor." Said Ginny with low voice.
"Where did you find this?"
"We found it in the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor, Professor," Harry said. "Ginny felt something when we passed it the first time, but when we were heading back, I felt it too."
Dumbledore turned to Ginny. "And you're certain it reminds you of the Diary?"
Ginny nodded, her expression tight. The headmaster glanced back at the table, his face grave.
"There's only one way to find out," he murmured. Rising from his chair, he strode toward a nearby wall where the Sword of Gryffindor hung, lifting it from its holder with practiced ease. With another flick of his wand, the tiara levitated into the air, following him as he opened a door leading into an adjacent room. He gestured for Harry and Ginny to follow.
The room was bare and dimly lit, its stone walls thick and foreboding.
"This is where I experiment with stronger magic," Dumbledore explained, his voice calm. "The walls are warded—no spell, no matter how powerful, can pass through them."
The diadem settled onto the cold stone floor at his command.
"We're going to destroy it."
Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance, instinctively taking a step back, expecting Dumbledore to strike the object himself. But instead, he turned to Ginny, offering her the sword with a gentle smile.
"I think you should do it, Miss Weasley."
Ginny's eyes widened. She flicked a startled look at Harry, who seemed equally shocked.
"Why me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"In magic, there is no such thing as coincidence," Dumbledore said. "Objects imbued with powerful magic often form connections with those who can either wield or destroy them. The fact that you sensed it before anyone else suggests that, in some way, it recognized you. If we follow the principles of Old Magic, it is believed that the one who is chosen by such an object also has the power to bring about its end."
Ginny's stomach twisted. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run. She took a small step back, her pulse hammering in her ears.
Harry, however, understood her hesitation. He cupped her cheek gently, grounding her. "If it really is like the Diary… destroying it might give you some closure, Gin. Think about it."
And then, because he knew she needed more than words, he kissed her. A brief, reassuring peck—uncaring that Dumbledore was watching.
Ginny smiled against his lips. When they pulled apart, she straightened her shoulders, her grip tightening into fists.
"I'll do it."
She turned to Dumbledore and took the sword from his outstretched hands.
Harry caught the headmaster's eye, only to find the old wizard winking at him. His face burned instantly.
Ginny, oblivious, studied the diadem warily. "So… I just stab it?"
"Yes. But be prepared—there may be some kind of magical defense."
Harry thought this would make Ginny hesitate again, but instead, her grip on the sword tightened, and her eyes darkened with determination.
Without another word, she stepped over the tiara, raised the sword high above her head, and brought it down with a furious cry.
The instant the blade connected, all hell broke loose.
A terrible, ear-splitting hiss filled the room as black smoke erupted from the cracked diadem, writhing and twisting like a living thing. Ginny screamed as the force knocked her backward, sending her sprawling onto the cold stone floor.
Harry was beside her in an instant, throwing his arms around her and pulling her against his chest, shielding her with his own body.
Across the room, Dumbledore moved swiftly, wand flashing as he conjured a barrier around the dark smoke, containing its violent thrashing. The thing hissed and shrieked, lashing against the invisible walls, but after a moment, the darkness dissipated into nothingness.
Silence fell over the room.
The three of them stared at the broken diadem, now nothing more than a ruined shell.
Dumbledore exhaled deeply. "Are you two all right?"
Harry's only concern was Ginny. She was trembling in his arms, eyes wet with unshed tears. But after a shaky breath, she nodded. "I'm okay."
Only then did Harry realize exactly how he was holding her.
In his panicked attempt to protect her, one of his hands had landed right on her breast.
"Merlin!" he yelped, practically flinging himself backward. "I—I didn't mean to—"
"Score second base in Dumbledore's office?" she finished, raising an eyebrow.
Harry went beet red.
Then, to his horror, Ginny burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Still sitting on the floor, she flopped onto her side, absolutely howling, tears now streaming for an entirely different reason.
Harry groaned, burying his face in his hands.
Dumbledore, to his credit, merely stroked his beard, his eyes twinkling with restrained amusement.
After Ginny calmed herself enough, they left the stone room, leaving the broken diadem behind.
Back in the office, Dumbledore's gaze flickered over the mess on his desk—the remains of the Vanishing Cabinet.
"I believe we have much to discuss," he said, nodding toward the chairs once more.
Harry took the lead in explaining, starting with their encounter with Malfoy in Knockturn Alley, the unease it left him with, and how they pieced together that Malfoy was spending an unusual amount of time in the Room of Requirement. Ginny picked up the story from there, briefly detailing their use of the invisible ink, how they followed Malfoy's steps, and what they had discovered.
"…and then we burned the pieces to ashes," Harry finished, gesturing toward the wreckage on Dumbledore's desk. "We wanted to bring this as evidence. After that, we found the tiara… and, well, you know the rest."
Dumbledore sat in silence, pinching the bridge of his long nose with his eyes closed. The pause stretched between them, making Harry shift slightly in his seat.
Finally, the headmaster exhaled deeply and looked at them. "If your assumptions are correct… If this cabinet was indeed what you believe it to be… the consequences could have been unfathomable. Thank you both—for your vigilance."
Harry and Ginny exchanged a brief, relieved smile.
"But, Professor… what was that thing?" Ginny asked, glancing toward the other room where the broken diadem lay.
"That, Miss Weasley, was an object of the darkest magic known to wizardkind," Dumbledore said gravely. "An artifact left behind by none other than Tom Riddle himself. In fact, I had intended to teach you about such magic in our lessons later this year. However, today's events…" He let out a small chuckle. "Let's just say they have rather shattered my lesson plan."
Harry snorted softly, but Ginny's expression remained serious.
"That's all I can say on the matter for now," Dumbledore continued. "I need time to study it properly. But when I am ready, you will receive your invitation." His sharp blue eyes flickered toward Ginny, as if sensing the protest forming on her lips. "And yes, Miss Weasley, I am giving Harry a permission to share this information with you."
Ginny looked smug, while Harry tried not to grin.
"There is one more favor I must ask of you," Dumbledore added. "Would you be willing to share your memories of today's events in the Room of Requirement? It may answer some of my remaining questions."
Harry nodded without hesitation. Dumbledore guided him through the process, and soon, a silvery strand of memory swirled into the empty vial the headmaster provided.
With that, they excused themselves and left the office. Both of them felt utterly drained—and yet, it was still only morning. They had just missed breakfast, and their stomachs reminded them loudly of that fact.
"We should go to the kitchens," Ginny suggested, rubbing her temple. "I need food. And maybe a nap."
Harry readily agreed, and they strode through the corridors side by side, careful not to touch in case anyone was watching. The day's events still spun through their minds, making their hearts race despite their exhaustion.
Then, out of nowhere, Harry stopped dead in his tracks.
"Oh Merlin," he whispered, his eyes widening in horror.
Ginny, who had officially reached her limit for dramatic surprises, groaned. "What now?"
Harry swallowed hard, looking at her with the expression of someone who had just realized something truly catastrophic.
"The memory I gave Dumbledore…" he said slowly. "We were snogging for quite a bit in there."
Ginny froze.
Then, after a moment of silence, she burst into laughter.
Harry, now bright red, quickly joined in, their exhaustion and nerves bubbling over into uncontrollable giggles as they made their way toward the kitchens.