Vaughn scooped Guoguo Tea into his arms and handed him a dried fish treat before casually tossing another toward the stiff, skeletal form of Mrs. Norris.
"That's how you do it," he said matter-of-factly. "Take out a snack and feed her."
Ron stared at him like he'd just claimed to tame a Hungarian Horntail.
"Don't lie to me," Ron hissed.
"Harry once offered her roast chicken—she didn't even sniff it! She chased us through THREE corridors! Evil cat!"
Vaughn rolled his eyes with the weary patience of someone dealing with a very slow child.
"My dear, dim-witted brother… Animals are sensitive. They can tell who's sincere and who isn't.
If you're trembling in fear, of course she won't take food from you."
Then he reached down and scratched Mrs. Norris under her chin.
The terrifying, bony creature immediately melted—purring, flopping onto her back, paws twitching in bliss as she batted at Vaughn's fingers like a kitten.
Hermione's jaw dropped.
Ron's soul left his body.
"Alright, off you go," Vaughn murmured, giving the cat a final affectionate rub. "And don't tell Filch I said you're too thin—I'll brew a tonic for you later."
Mrs. Norris gave Ron and Hermione one horrifying glare of superiority before gliding back to her post outside the Trophy Room.
"You came to check on Harry?" Vaughn asked.
"Yeah," Ron nodded. "Malfoy's doing detention with him. Thought he might try something."
"Relax," Vaughn said breezily. "I already warned Draco: if he costs Slytherin even one more point, I'll turn him into a rat and give him to Guoguo Tea as a chew toy."
Hermione giggled.
Ron instinctively clutched his pocket—suddenly remembering Scabbers lived there.
"Right," Vaughn clapped his hands. "Time to finish Peeves' evening walk.
Guoguo Tea stays with you. When Harry's done polishing trophies, follow the cat. I'll show you something fun. Hogwarts has too many secrets to waste."
And with a tug on the floating string tied to Peeves, Vaughn vanished into the shadows, the poltergeist trailing behind him like a balloon from hell.
Hermione watched him go with sparkling eyes.
"Ronald," she sighed dreamily, "you really ought to learn from your brother. He's smart. He's kind. Even Mrs. Norris adores him."
Ron puffed up in offended silence, refusing to talk to "a foolish girl."
Harry Emerges From Detention
Over an hour later, Harry stumbled out of the Trophy Room—bleary, exhausted, and wiping his face with the same dirty rag he'd been cleaning with.
Ron ducked out of range just in time.
After hearing Vaughn wanted to show them something, Harry perked up.
As Guoguo Tea led the trio through dim corridors, Harry groaned:
"You wouldn't believe how many trophies there are. And I wasn't allowed to use magic—polished all of them by hand! Halfway through, I think my brain just… stopped."
Hermione sniffed.
"Even if they had let you, you wouldn't know enough spells."
Harry pretended not to hear.
"But I did see my dad's Quidditch trophy," he added proudly. "James Potter. Malfoy nearly turned green."
Ron looked envious.
His dad had never won a Hogwarts trophy. Charlie had one, sure—but somehow that wasn't the same.
The Bathroom Ghost
Guoguo Tea led them to the second floor.
This area wasn't unfamiliar: Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, History of Magic… and the abandoned girls' bathroom.
Hermione frowned. "Why here?"
Vaughn was inside—sitting cross-legged beside a sobbing ghost.
"...You're so sweet, Vaughn Weasley," Moaning Myrtle wailed dramatically. "No one else ever visits me. They always say, 'Ugh, here comes that awful Myrtle!' Boo-hoo-hoo!"
Then, mid-sobbing, she shrieked:
"So NO ONE gets to use this bathroom! It's MINE! I DIED HERE!
And I'm NEVER LEAVING!"
Three sinks exploded.
Vaughn nodded appreciatively, as if watching a particularly good performance.
Spotting the trio, he waved brightly.
"Myrtle, look—I brought friends!"
Myrtle sniffed, then gave the trio a very disdainful once-over.
"Hmph. Sweetheart, I don't talk to ugly people. Someone as lovely as me deserves someone like YOU."
The trio of officially-declared ugly people:
"..."
"Well," Vaughn sighed, "seems she doesn't like you. Guess we'll visit again another time."
Myrtle shrank into her toilet with only her head peeking out, fluttering her eyelashes at Vaughn.
"I'll be waiting, darling…"
The door closed behind them.
Ron immediately gasped for air.
"Merlin—she's worse than a Banshee! How can you STAND her?!"
Vaughn raised an eyebrow.
"She's interesting. She's the youngest ghost in Hogwarts—only died a few decades ago.
But she can affect plumbing. No other ghost can."
Ron and Harry exchanged a look of horror.
Hermione, however, looked fascinated.
"Why plumbing? Ghosts can't usually interact with magic objects like that. Could it be linked to how she died? Or—"
She followed Vaughn up the stairs, firing questions nonstop.
Harry and Ron trailed behind miserably.
After climbing countless stairs, Harry finally whined:
"Vaughn… where ARE we going?"
"The eighth floor," Vaughn said. "Almost there."
The Room Reveals Itself
On the eighth floor, Vaughn stopped before a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet.
"Stand over there," he instructed.
Confused, they obeyed.
Vaughn paced back and forth across the opposite blank wall—
once,
twice,
three times—
And a polished wooden door appeared out of solid stone.
Harry's jaw nearly dislocated.
Vaughn pushed it open.
"Come in."
They stepped through—and froze.
It was enormous.
A cavern of forgotten treasures stretching so far it seemed to swallow the horizon.
Broken desks.
Old cauldrons.
Brooms.
Books.
Glittering magical items spinning or floating.
Dusty artifacts stacked to the ceiling.
Vaughn spread his arms theatrically.
"Harry. Ron. Hermione—
welcome to the Room of Requirement."
Harry could only stare.
How could this place be inside Hogwarts?
The room felt bigger than the Quidditch pitch.
"The Room changes based on what you need," Vaughn explained.
"You think of a purpose, walk past the wall three times, and it appears."
"I wanted a place to hide things," he added, gesturing to the towering chaos around them.
"So this version is the Room of Hidden Things."
Even for a wizarding world full of strangeness… this was unbelievable.
And Harry, for once, was completely speechless.
PS :
Mrs. Norris – Filch's cat; surprisingly affectionate with Vaughn.
Moaning Myrtle – Ghost haunting the second-floor girls' bathroom; unusually expressive poltergeist-like behaviour.
Peeves – Hogwarts' mischievous poltergeist, now accidentally "walked" by Vaughn like a balloon.
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