All of a sudden, the dormitory door was slammed open with a loud bang, and Fred and George rushed in.
The moment they saw Harry, they shouted, "Hahaha, Harry! Even though we're late, we still wanted to say—Merry Christmas!"
"Thanks. Merry Christmas," Harry replied with a smile.
At that moment, Fred noticed the jumper Harry was wearing. Delight spilled all over his face, and he whooped, "Hey, look! Harry got a Weasley jumper too!"
Fred and George were both wearing blue jumpers, with an "F" and a "G" stitched on their chests for their initials—matching Harry's style.
Harry praised, "That's right. Mrs. Weasley's craftsmanship is incredible. I'd bet even those fancy jumpers priced at tens of thousands of pounds wouldn't be as comfortable as this one."
Ron immediately complained a little, "Oh, come on, Harry. When have you ever worn a jumper worth tens of thousands of pounds?"
Harry grinned and didn't argue.
In this world, he really hadn't worn anything like that. But in that distant other world—where he was among the richest people alive—everything he needed was supplied to the highest standard.
Forget tens of thousands of pounds. Even more expensive clothing was just part of his everyday life.
Fred compared Harry's jumper with his own and grumbled, "Clearly Mum puts more effort into jumpers for people who aren't her kids. Harry's looks better than ours."
Hearing that, Harry waved his hand. "No, Fred, don't say that. Yours are great too—honestly, they look even nicer than mine."
"Really?" Fred beamed. He rubbed the fabric again. "Yeah… seems like it! Mum really does love us the most."
At that moment, George reached out and tugged lightly at Fred's sleeve, sounding dissatisfied. "Fred, stop talking about jumpers. We've got something more important."
Fred smacked his forehead like he'd just woken from a dream, then said to Harry, "Harry, we want to ask you a favor."
"What is it?"
George picked up the thread, wearing a secretive grin.
"When we're older, we want to open a shop in Diagon Alley—called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. We'll sell all kinds of fun magical joke products, like Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougat, Swamp Gas Bombs, that sort of thing.
But Fred and I have limited talent. We can't come up with inventions that are interesting enough, so we want you to help us design a few magical joke products."
Harry thought for a moment. While researching potions and magic, he really had discovered quite a few strange potions and spells that could be used for pranks.
For instance, there was a sex-change potion. That potion had been created purely by accident.
For some reason, while experimenting with the Assassin potion, he had accidentally analyzed a potion formula that contained a gender-altering effect.
And besides that, among his more "special" magical research results were two particularly unusual jinxes—the Hiccup Jinx and the Fart Jinx.
They were somewhat similar to the Tickling Charm: once cast, they produced effects that were hard not to laugh at.
Someone hit by the Hiccup Jinx would start hiccuping uncontrollably, one after another, the sound rising and falling in waves that simply wouldn't stop. And someone hit by the Fart Jinx would be plunged into maximum embarrassment, continuously letting out loud farts—the scene was downright ridiculous.
Fred and George were Harry's friends. If he could help, he didn't mind at all.
But developing new potions and spells required materials—things that had to be purchased in Diagon Alley or elsewhere—so Harry said,
"Of course I can. But I'll need some potion ingredients and other magical materials. If you can provide enough materials, I can develop the sex-change potion, the Hiccup Jinx, and the Fart Jinx."
Hearing how bizarre the potion's effect was, Fred's eyes widened instantly, lighting up with excitement. "That's a genius idea—especially the sex-change potion! Harry, what on earth is inside your head? You're an absolute genius!"
George thought for a moment and grew just as excited. "Harry, we know a hidden place where we can get the materials for free. We'll tell you as a thank-you—guaranteed to surprise you!"
"Oh? What place?"
"The Room of Requirement!" The twins exchanged a look, both wearing mysterious smiles.
Deep in the silent night, Hogwarts seemed draped in a veil of secrecy—everything was quiet.
Harry, Fred, and George gently pushed open the common room door and filed out into the dark, shadowy corridor.
A breeze slipped past ancient windows, making a faint rustling sound. The twins led the way, their steps light and cautious, each footfall placed as softly as possible.
But instead of constantly looking around for Filch or professors, they kept pulling a crumpled piece of parchment from their pockets, studying it intently.
Harry, curious, asked, "What are you looking at?"
His voice was a bit too loud and startled them. Fred reacted instantly—pure reflex—taking a quick step to Harry's side and clapping a hand over his mouth.
At the same time, George raised his index finger to his lips, eyes wide, franticly signaling at Harry, and whispered in a breathy hiss, "Quiet! Don't you dare draw that Filch bloke over!"
When they reached a secluded corner, Fred finally let out a long breath and explained, "This is the Marauder's Map. It's our treasure. With it, we can roam at night without worry."
Harry's eyes brightened. From the map, he sensed a strange magical force, so he asked, "Can I take a look?"
Fred didn't hesitate at all. He handed the Marauder's Map to Harry generously, a hint of pride on his face as he explained with enthusiasm:
"Look—this map shows everyone's real-time location in the castle, and it marks every secret passage in Hogwarts. It even records the way to open them, all in detail!
Filch always thinks he's the one who knows Hogwarts best—but he'd never dream we stole his Marauder's Map!"
Just as Fred said, Harry saw an extremely detailed layout of Hogwarts on the parchment. Countless dense little dots were scattered across it, each with a name written clearly beside it.
Seeing that, Harry's eyes lit up. This was a mysterious magic even stronger than the sensing magic he currently had!
If he could deduce how it worked, and then derive an entirely new sensing spell from it, it would drastically improve his perception.
But soon, after grasping the Marauder's Map's basic mechanism, he felt a bit disappointed. With a helpless sigh, he returned it to Fred.
The Marauder's Map constantly interacted with Hogwarts. It wasn't detecting things with its own magic—instead, it was borrowing ancient magic embedded into Hogwarts itself to produce its tracking effect.
Those old magical forces spread through every inch of Hogwarts, silently recording every living trace that moved within the castle.
The Marauder's Map simply linked itself to that powerful ancient magic, which was why it could display everyone's location so precisely.
That also meant the Marauder's Map could only be used at Hogwarts. Outside, it would be nearly useless.
Even so, Harry still praised it. "It's an amazing map. No wonder you two can sneak around at night without Filch catching you."
At that, George's face scrunched up as he complained,
"That was before. Lately, I don't know what's going on—Filch suddenly learned how to do magic, and he's got some kind of mysterious detection spell too. Every time we get anywhere near him, even from far away, he chases us until we're scrambling to escape."
Then George looked at Harry, suspicion written all over his face. "Oh, right—Harry. I heard you've got a way to lend magic to Squibs. Don't tell me you lent magic to Filch?"
Harry rubbed his nose. He hadn't expected that after Filch learned to cast spells, the biggest victims would be the twins.
He didn't answer George directly. Instead, he turned and headed toward the eighth floor, changing the subject. "Come on. We still need to find the Room of Requirement."
Behind him, the twins looked at each other and simultaneously spread their hands.
Right—so the mastermind was Harry!
Led by the twins, they arrived on the eighth floor of Hogwarts Castle and stopped in front of the wall opposite the tapestry showing Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls.
George explained seriously to Harry, "Harry, to get into the Room of Requirement, you have to clearly picture what you need in your mind, then walk up and down this corridor three times."
After saying that, he started pacing back and forth. He kept his head slightly lowered, his lips moving as he muttered, "I need a room where I can practice brewing potions…"
As he walked, the air around them seemed to change, a subtle current of mysterious magic stirring.
Soon, when George finished the corridor for the third time and set his foot down, there was a creak—and a simple, ancient-looking door slowly appeared on the wall ahead.
George stopped and went in first. Turning back, he called to Harry, "Come on, Harry—witness Hogwarts' greatest miracle!"
Harry stepped into the suddenly appeared room as well.
The moment he entered this potion-brewing practice room, a rich and complex smell rushed at him. In the center stood a row of long tables, and on each table sat a neatly arranged set of potion-making tools.
In the corners were several massive oak cabinets, packed with all kinds of potion ingredients—dried nightshade, mandrake roots, various powders—everything you could think of.
The instant he entered the Room of Requirement, Harry's brows lifted slightly as he incredulously sensed the room's unusual magic.
In here, he felt a familiar yet vast, majestic aura of mystery!
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