THE ALCHEMIST OF HARRY POTTER

When Albert woke up, the Gryffindor dormitory was pitch black, and the sound of rain pattering against the castle windows echoed faintly in the quiet. The rain from last night had yet to stop.

Albert sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes as he stifled a yawn. He blamed the restless night on his strange dream—something about a room full of doors that led to nowhere. He felt unusually tired, despite waking before dawn.

His three dormmates were still fast asleep, their steady breathing punctuated by the occasional snore. Reaching for the bedside table, Albert fumbled for his wand and whispered, "Lumos."

A soft, silvery light bloomed from the tip, casting long shadows on the canopy above. He held the wand close to his pocket watch—a gift from his older brother Luke to celebrate his Hogwarts letter. The hands read 5:40 AM.

Too early.

With a sigh, Albert extinguished the light and flopped back onto the mattress. His pocket watch slipped from his fingers onto the sheets. Knowing sleep wouldn't return, he sat up, stretched, and tossed back the warm covers before padding over to the window. He unlatched the wooden frame and swung it open.

A gust of cold wind rushed in, making him shiver. The castle grounds were shrouded in mist, and the lake gleamed darkly beneath the rain. Distant lightning flickered, illuminating the Forbidden Forest in jagged bursts.

"A real adventure," he muttered under his breath, grinning slightly.

Shutting the window, Albert turned back to his four-poster, pulling on his robes. He pocketed his wand and watch, then tossed his discarded pajamas into the laundry basket—he knew the house-elves would see to them. Hogwarts had its inconveniences, but at least students didn't have to worry about mundane tasks like laundry.

In the Gryffindor common room, only the embers of last night's fire remained, casting a warm glow over the room. A ghost, the Grey Lady, sat on one of the high-backed armchairs, engrossed in a book. She barely glanced at him as he passed. Albert considered striking up a conversation but thought better of it. He disliked interruptions while reading, and suspected she did too.

Slipping out of the portrait hole, he nodded absentmindedly to the Fat Lady, who blinked at him sleepily from within her gilded frame. "Where are you off to so early?" she yawned.

"Just walking," Albert replied, stepping into the dim corridor. He raised his wand and let its glow light the way, deciding to explore a new path rather than retracing his steps from the night before.

The castle felt eerily still in the early morning, the damp chill seeping through the stone walls. The corridors, lined with suits of armor and portraits, looked like something from a haunted castle in a Muggle ghost story. At Hogwarts, however, ghosts were not a mere fantasy. He half-expected Nearly Headless Nick to drift through the wall at any moment.

Turning a corner, Albert recognized a familiar landmark: the large vase at the end of the hallway. But what caught his attention was the tapestry hanging opposite—a peculiar scene of trolls in tutus attempting ballet. The creatures clutched clubs of wood and bone, contorting into awkward poses under the instruction of a frazzled-looking wizard, who was dodging an incoming club swing.

Albert grinned. He had found it.

The Room of Requirement.

Stepping toward the blank stretch of wall opposite the tapestry, he turned on his heel, pacing past it three times while focusing intently.

"I need a place to practice magic… A place to practice magic… A place to practice magic…"

On the third pass, a door began to materialize, its outline shimmering into existence. Albert's pulse quickened. He reached out, grasped the brass handle, and stepped inside.

A vast chamber unfolded before him, its walls lined with torches that flickered to life as he entered. Wooden bookshelves stretched along the sides, packed with hundreds of tomes—likely sourced from the Hogwarts library. Dummies for spell practice stood at the far end, while an assortment of cushions lay strewn about, likely for dueling drills.

Albert exhaled in satisfaction. "Brilliant."

This was perfect. A private space to hone his magic without prying eyes. But secrecy was crucial—if word got out, others might use it too. He needed to be discreet.

He considered potential obstacles. Getting in unseen wasn't too difficult, but he had to ensure he wasn't followed. A Disillusionment Charm would help, but what he truly needed was a Marauder's Map.

That, however, was locked away in Filch's office.

Or… he could make one himself.

Albert smirked. Not yet, perhaps. But one day.

He cast one last glance around the room before stepping back outside. As soon as the door shut behind him, it melted into the stone wall, as if it had never existed.

Few at Hogwarts knew about this room, and Albert intended to keep it that way.