Hogwarts was still mourning the loss of Dumbledore, and everyone was telling their favourite stories of the Headmaster. Sometimes it was a small act of kindness, a sweet offered at a timely moment. For others it was sage word of advice that helped them make a choice with a difficult decision. The students swapped their own stories, even as they heard of the younger days of the most powerful wizard of the age.
Harry was staying away from large crowds, there were too many painful... too many fresh memories... Too many people asking him for his favourite memory of Dumbledore. He even made the effort to escape the comforting words of Ron and Hermione. They meant well, and obviously they too were feeling the loss. But he needed some time to be alone.
That was how Harry came to be walking through a less explored part of the castle. Seeing the size of some of the cobwebs he was sure that Ron's eyes would have been darting around nervously. His steps faltered, as he walked passed a door. It didn't belong there, it just didn't fit with the shape of the corridor, and even in his distracted mood, he was sure it wasn't there a few moments ago.
It had to be the Room of Requirement, he wasn't sure quite what thoughts or desires had summoned it up. But Harry wasn't about to ignore it. He was mildly disappointed when the door didn't creak as he pushed it open. The heavy oak swinging aside smoothly if slowly.
Taking one last look to either side; nobody there. Harry entered and closed the door behind him.
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