New Uses for the Room of Requirement

After writing that line on the blackboard, Gavin stood staring at it for a long time.

Research plan for stopping the Obscurus from consuming its host's life.

The Obscurus.

So far, he knew very little about it.

Gavin had first learned of the Obscurus from the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them films.

Many Obscurials did not live past ten, but Credence was an adult Obscurial.

Suppressed emotions gave rise to it.

It inhabited its host as a highly compressed, intensely corrosive form of Dark Magic.

It steadily consumed its host's life.

Usually, it killed the host in childhood.

There was probably another reason Cordelia had survived this long. It might also have something to do with that bracelet.

Dumbledore's sister had also died because of an Obscurus in the original story. That bracelet might be connected to her, and Dumbledore might already have made some progress in his research.

But clearly, he still could not cure Cordelia or resolve the Obscurus inside her.

Gavin thought he could talk to Dumbledore about it later. He might learn something.

Before that, he decided to study it himself. At the very least, he wanted some understanding of the Obscurus first.

The next day, a new first-year student appeared in the Hogwarts Library, buried in books.

He walked in.

Went straight to a shelf and brought back a towering stack of books.

Then he started flipping through them.

Occasionally, he stopped to jot something down.

Then he kept flipping.

Pages rustled nonstop.

Madam Pince soon noticed him.

Gavin looked very much like someone there to cause trouble. Instead of reading properly, he seemed intent on showing off his "quantum speed-reading" technique.

Gavin did not notice Madam Pince's gaze growing steadily less friendly. He was completely absorbed in hunting for information on the Obscurus.

But the more he searched, the deeper his frown became.

"Magical Ailments and Injuries"

"Cases of Magical Outbursts in Children"

"Modern History of Wizarding Society"

"Classification of Magical Anomalies"

"Psychological Magical Injuries"

He even pulled down An Introduction to Magical Development and Adolescent Instability, a book that sounded dry and hefty from the title alone.

The results were disappointing.

More precisely, extremely disappointing.

There were plenty of books.

And plenty of related terms.

"Loss of control," "suppression," "darkness," "children," "magical outbursts," "anomalous parasitism," "psychological trauma"... On their own, any of those terms seemed as though it might have something to do with the Obscurus.

But once he opened the books, it felt like trying to fish one particular peppercorn out of a huge pot of stew.

There was plenty in the pot.

Not much of it was useful.

Most books brushed against the subject at the edges, then immediately veered elsewhere.

They discussed the difference between adolescent magical outbursts and windows exploding on their own, or how the remnants of ancient curses could affect a wizard's mental state over the long term. Otherwise, they debated soporific academic questions like "whether anomalous magical phenomena can be incorporated into a unified classification system."

The Obscurus itself might as well have been erased from the catalog, deliberately or otherwise.

Its absence was startling.

"That doesn't make sense," Gavin muttered with a frown.

Three books lay open before him, each thicker than the last and better at wasting an entire afternoon.

One had spent forty pages discussing hereditary magical instability. Its only useful conclusion was a single sentence:

Some children face a higher risk due to prolonged psychological suppression.

"Thanks." Gavin tapped the line lightly with his quill. "I could have worked that out from the faces of some of the children at St. Mungo's."

Of course, a couple of complaints were not going to make the library any more cooperative.

For the first time, the vast collection of the Hogwarts Library gave Gavin a sharp sense of unfamiliar helplessness.

In his previous life, he could have found what he needed with a keyboard, a mouse, and a search.

But the Wizarding World had no search engines. Finding information about a single term was far too difficult.

Then again, it made sense.

Otherwise, Nicolas Flamel's name would not have stumped Hermione and the others for so long.

At last, Gavin closed the book, rubbed his brow, and reached a tentative conclusion:

Searching this way was too inefficient.

That afternoon, when he returned to the Room of Requirement, he was not in the best mood.

Research had rarely stalled for him at the information-gathering stage. He was not sure how to proceed. Should he ask Dumbledore directly?

As usual, the Room of Requirement opened its door for him.

Inside was the familiar practice room.

Long table, blackboard, wall lamps, open floor.

Even a little chalk dust he had failed to wipe away last time remained in the corner of the table.

Gavin went in, set his Dragon Hide Bag on the table, sat down, and stared blankly at the heading on the blackboard for a while.

Then something occurred to him.

If the Room of Requirement could conjure up a practice room, a storeroom, or even a nearly custom-made space according to his needs—

Could it provide library resources?

At the thought, Gavin sat up straighter.

"Oh? Interesting," he said.

He stood and paced around the room twice, clarifying what he wanted.

I need a place where I can quickly find books related to the Obscurus.

On his third circuit, the room began to change.

This time, it did not simply add a few tables and chairs.

An entire wall slowly slid aside, revealing a broad expanse of quiet bookshelves bathed in warm, dim light. They were arranged differently from the shelves in the Hogwarts Library: closer together, more purposeful. A long table had appeared among them, its surface empty, as though waiting for him to lay out whatever he found.

Gavin stared at the scene for two seconds.

"That's magic for you. I like you more and more."

His spirits lifted, as if the skies over rainy London had suddenly cleared.

Gavin went straight to the shelves, thought for a moment, and tried a simple request.

"Books about magical outbursts in children."

The next instant, the shelves to his left shifted slightly, and several books slid half an inch outward.

Gavin's eyes lit up.

"That works. Excellent."

He tried a few more specific requests.

"Books about parasitic forms of Dark Magic."

"Books about emotional suppression and magical anomalies."

"Books about the history of wizarding society's care and treatment of children with anomalous magic."

The shelves responded every time.

It was at least a dozen times more efficient than wandering through the library and flipping through books himself.

"You're practically the Wizarding World's search engine." Gavin was delighted.

Some of the design choices in Hogwarts Castle really were enviable.

Of course, the Room of Requirement could not do everything.

Gavin soon discovered that its results were clearly limited to the regular collection.

For example—

"Secrets of the Darkest Art." Nothing happened.

"Books about Dark Magic." Still nothing.

"Books about Horcruxes." Not the slightest response.

"You're quite a stickler for the rules," he said.

The room did not answer.

It seemed to accept his assessment.

So Gavin stopped testing the shelves and turned to his real goal.

He took a deep breath and made his central request outright:

"All books about the Obscurus."

The room fell silent for several seconds. Gavin could hear only his own heartbeat.

The shelves did not respond en masse.

Finally, the innermost shelf on the right shifted softly.

A single book slowly slid out.

Gavin looked at it, frowned slightly, then reached out and took it down.

The book was thick, but its title made clear it was no dedicated study of the Obscurus.

The cover read—

History of Magic in the Middle Ages

"...Just this one?" Gavin looked down at it, scarcely able to believe it.

He opened the table of contents and scanned toward the back. At last, in a chapter on panic in medieval wizarding society and magical accidents involving children, he found a section on the Obscurus.

It was not long, but it was far more promising than anything he had found before.

In the Middle Ages, cases involving the Obscurus had been widespread.

The phenomenon was especially common where witch-hunting panic was at its height and hostility toward magic ran deep. Young wizards who spent years suppressing their gifts, fearing exposure, and enduring pressure from their families or communities were particularly vulnerable.

In modern society, however—

It had all but vanished.

Gavin stared at those lines, a finger resting at the edge of the page, and slowly narrowed his eyes.

"What caused that?"

He thought about it for a long time without getting anywhere. History of Magic was one of his weaker subjects.

Gavin closed the book, considered for a moment, and made a decision.

After class, Professor Binns gathered his lecture notes as usual and prepared to drift from the lectern without a ripple of fuss.

A figure blocked his way.

Looking more closely, he saw a first-year Hufflepuff holding a copy of History of Magic in the Middle Ages. He remembered the student; he had called on him to answer a question.

"Professor Binns," Gavin said.

A slightly delayed look of puzzlement appeared on Professor Binns's translucent face.

"Yes, Mr. Gu?"

"I came across a question while reading History of Magic in the Middle Ages."

At the mention of a History of Magic question, the eyes behind Professor Binns's glasses finally focused a little.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Gu. How may I help?"

"I read that the Obscurus appeared frequently in the Middle Ages, but it's almost vanished from the Wizarding World today. Why is that? I don't quite understand." Gavin tried to look sincere, like a child who genuinely loved History of Magic.

"Ah," he said. "A very old and rather regrettable subject."

Professor Binns paused, as though trying to condense a vast historical question into something he could explain to a first-year in the corridor after class.

"There are many reasons," he said, "but the principal one is that times have changed."

"In what way?"

"Medieval wizarding children, particularly those without an education, often grew up in extremely dangerous circumstances," Professor Binns said. "Witch hunts were common then, and Muggle society had little tolerance for anything unusual. Once a child showed signs of magic, the mildest response was suppression by the family. At worst, the child was treated as the source of some calamity."

"In those circumstances, young wizards came to fear their own magic instinctively. The more they feared it, the more they suppressed it; the more they suppressed it, the more likely they were to lose control. The Obscurus formed through that prolonged struggle against their own gifts."

"So why is it rare in modern society?"

"First, there is the system of magical schools," Professor Binns said.

By then, Justin and Ernie had packed up their books, but neither had left.

They were not alone. Several Ravenclaw students in the front row were plainly listening too.

After all, it was rare for Professor Binns to stray from the main thread of the Goblin Rebellions in a first-year History of Magic class and explain something else.

"Modern wizarding society has developed a more effective means of finding these children," Professor Binns said. "Children with magical gifts are often identified earlier and brought into the school system sooner. The earlier they understand what they are, the less likely they are to see their gifts as a disaster."

"Second, attitudes have changed."

"Across the United Kingdom, the prevailing approach has shifted from 'witch-hunting' to 'secrecy.' Wizarding society no longer has such direct, frequent, and dangerous clashes with the Muggle world. Once the secret was protected, children faced far less pressure from outside. That greatly reduced the strain on those under ten, giving them time to be found by a magical school."

Gavin considered that.

Put simply, it was the difference between "You might be burned to death for doing magic" and "You'd better not let Muggles see you doing magic yet."

The latter came with pressure too, of course.

But at least it would not drive someone straight into a corner.

"There is another point," Professor Binns continued. "Modern policies for accommodating Squibs have also reduced the associated discrimination to some extent."

That took Gavin somewhat by surprise.

"Squibs can affect the formation of an Obscurus too?"

"Of course," Professor Binns said. "In the old days, the birth of a Squib into a wizarding family was often accompanied by intense shame and rejection. Children raised in such an environment would be more sensitive to questions like 'Am I normal?' and 'Will my magic be accepted?' The greater the discrimination, the deeper the repression."

"And now?"

"Prejudice still exists," Professor Binns said. "But it is far less severe than before. At least on an institutional level, Squibs are no longer treated entirely as a stain on their families."

Only then did Gavin recall that Ariana seemed to have been treated as a Squib at first.

Behind him, Ernie gave a soft cough.

It was very quiet.

But unmistakable.

After all, this topic touched on something of a historical sore spot for pure-blood families.

Gavin did not turn around. He simply continued asking:

"So you believe Obscuruses have all but disappeared not because treatment has improved, but because the conditions that produce them have been weakened on a massive scale?"

"You could put it that way." Professor Binns nodded. "At least from a historical perspective, that is the case."

Gavin lowered his gaze to the book in his hands.

If the roots of an Obscurus lay partly in the social environment and partly in prolonged personal repression, then Cordelia's situation was very strange. Why had she still developed an Obscurus under such a well-established modern system?

"Then what if—I mean, hypothetically—someone became an Obscurial in modern society? What could cause that?" Gavin ventured another question.

"Then there are only two possibilities." Professor Binns seemed quite willing to answer Gavin's questions. "One is that the Book of Admittance and the Quill of Acceptance made a mistake and failed to locate the child. The other is that the child possesses unprecedented magical talent and developed an irreversible Obscurus before the age of ten."

Gavin fell silent for a moment after hearing that. So Cordelia had extraordinary magical talent?

What a sick joke. Someone who hated magic had talent countless wizards could never match.

"I understand. Thank you, Professor." Gavin bowed as he spoke, then stepped aside to let the ghost professor pass.

Professor Binns nodded and, without another word, floated away.

Gavin remained where he was, apparently still mulling over their conversation.

Justin came over, glancing first at the book in Gavin's hands, then at the expression on his face.

"What have you thought of now?"

"Something troublesome."

"That usually means you're about to start doing something even more troublesome," Justin said.

"You understand me better and better."

"I'd rather I didn't."

Ernie came over as well, his expression as composed as ever.

"But if you really want to look into more sources," he said, "perhaps you could ask Professor McGonagall or Headmaster Dumbledore for permission. This clearly isn't ordinary first-year reading, after all."

Gavin glanced at him.

It was a very sensible suggestion.

And—

He had been planning to speak to someone anyway.

Just not about library access.

It was for something else.

A few days later, in the early evening, someone knocked on Professor McGonagall's office door.

"Come in."

When the door opened, Professor McGonagall looked up and saw Gavin standing in the doorway, holding a folded sheet of parchment.

Her brow shifted slightly.

"Mr. Gu," she said, "if you are here to request additional access to upper-year Transfiguration materials, I suggest you at least wait until the end of this term."

Gavin nodded. "All right, Professor McGonagall. But I'm here about something else this time."

"And what is that?"

Gavin walked in and handed her the parchment.

"Headmaster Dumbledore's approval."

Professor McGonagall took it, unfolded it, and scanned it. Her previously calm expression changed noticeably.

She looked up.

"You wish to request permission to use the Floo Network every Saturday to visit St. Mungo's?"

"Yes, Professor."

The fire in the fireplace crackled softly.

The parchment bearing the headmaster's approval lay quietly beside Professor McGonagall's hand.