The Sun and His Stars ; HP

The room

The walk to the Room of Requirement is a painfully awkward affair. Potter and I are engaged in a silent war of tug-of-war, our shared arm the battleground. Every step is a test of patience as we maneuver through the narrow corridors, the weight of our predicament hanging heavily in the air.

Potter's steps are quick and purposeful, his arm jerking closer to his side with every movement. I'm forced to stumble along behind him, the distance between us shrinking with every uneven step. My frustration builds as I tug at my arm, trying to pull it back into a more comfortable position, but Potter's resistance is unwavering. He's clearly determined to make this as difficult as possible.

I cast a sidelong glance at him, trying to gauge his expression. His face is a mixture of irritation and concentration, as if he's using sheer willpower to keep his arm close. The awkward tension between us is almost palpable, and I can feel the strain in my shoulder with every step. The hallways of Hogwarts seem to stretch on interminably, our pace slowing as we struggle with our mutual resistance.

Finally, after several minutes of this exasperating back-and-forth, I let out an impatient sigh and stop walking. My arm is yanked back towards Potter's side, the pulling sensation becoming more uncomfortable by the second. With a resigned huff, I let my arm fall limply at my side, conceding to the situation. Potter, seeming to sense my defeat, does the same. His arm hangs by his side, the tension in the corridor easing just a fraction.

We continue the walk in silence, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The once familiar hallways of Hogwarts now seem strange and distant, each turn and corner an obstacle in our shared path. The slight jostle of our connected arms with every step serves as a constant reminder of our predicament, and I can't help but steal glances at Potter, wondering how he's managing to stay so composed.

The closer we get to the Room of Requirement, the more aware I become of our proximity. Every accidental brush of our arms sends a jolt through me, a reminder of how invasive this entire situation feels. Potter, to his credit, remains focused on the task at hand, though I can see the slight tension in his shoulders.

"I've charmed the room so that it's visible to everyone at Hogwarts at all times," Snape announces, his voice taking on that infuriatingly smug tone of his. His pale eyes lock onto Potter with an intensity that seems almost palpable. "There are no wards on it when it's occupied, meaning anyone can enter when you two are in there. However, the door will not open for anyone other than the two of you when it's empty."

I nod, understanding the implications of Snape's spell. The room will be a spectacle to any passing student or staff member, but only Potter and I will have exclusive access. It's a curious mix of exposure and privacy, and it's clear that Snape is relishing the chance to emphasize the potential for embarrassment.

Potter, however, is less receptive. He rolls his eyes dramatically, the gesture as much a part of his persona as his glasses. His expression is a mix of defiance and irritation, a stark contrast to the cool, collected demeanor that Snape exudes.

Snape raises his brow one last time, as if daring us to protest further. With a final swoosh of his robes, he turns and heads down the corridor, his long, black cloak trailing behind him like a dark shadow.

I take a deep breath and step forward, the weight of the situation settling over me. Without a word, I pull open the door to the Room of Requirement, feeling Potter's presence behind me as I lead the way inside.

As soon as we step into the room, I'm struck by how unexpectedly beautiful it is. Sunlight floods the space through large, tall windows, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow across the floor. The room has an airy, inviting feel, softened by the golden hues of the afternoon sun.