Finding the Room of Requirement proved more challenging than Eliot and Susan had anticipated.
The castle was enormous, with hundreds of rooms, corridors, and hidden passages. The few references they'd found in the library were frustratingly vague: "a room that appears when one has great need," "located on the seventh floor," "opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy."
"There," Susan said, pointing down a corridor lined with portraits. "That must be it."
The tapestry showed a wizard in medieval robes attempting to teach ballet to a group of trolls. It was exactly as ridiculous as the descriptions suggested.
"So now what?" Eliot asked, studying the blank wall opposite the tapestry. "Do we just... ask for a room?"
"The book said you have to walk past three times, thinking clearly about what you need."
They looked at each other, feeling slightly foolish.
"I need a workshop," Eliot said aloud, beginning to pace. "A place where we can work on magical inventions safely and privately."
"I need a laboratory," Susan added, falling into step beside him. "Somewhere with proper equipment and storage for our projects."
They walked past the wall once, twice, three times...
Nothing happened.
"Maybe we're not being specific enough?" Susan suggested.
"Or maybe it doesn't exist," Eliot replied, though he didn't really believe that. Too many sources had mentioned it for it to be pure legend.
They tried again, this time being more detailed in their mental requests. Eliot visualized workbenches, tool storage, runic etching equipment, testing areas. Susan focused on organization systems, reference materials, and safety features.
On the third pass, a door appeared.
"Merlin's beard," Susan breathed.
The door was simple but elegant, made of dark wood with brass fittings. A small plaque read: "Clarke & Granger Workshop - Authorized Personnel Only."
"It even knows our names," Eliot marveled.
---
The room beyond was perfect.
Spacious but not overwhelming, with excellent lighting from both magical sources and large windows that showed a view of the castle grounds. Workbenches lined the walls, equipped with precision tools for runic etching, metalworking, and enchantment. Storage cabinets held organized supplies of materials. A testing area was separated from the main workspace by protective barriers.
"Look at this," Susan called from one corner, where a comprehensive library of magical engineering texts had appeared. "It has books I've never even heard of."
Eliot was examining a runic etching station that was far more advanced than anything he'd seen before. "This equipment is incredible. We could create devices here that would be impossible in a regular classroom."
A comfortable seating area occupied the center of the room, with a fireplace that crackled warmly. Even a small kitchen area had been provided, complete with a tea service.
"The room really does give you what you need," Susan said wonderingly. "This is exactly what I would have designed if I'd had unlimited resources."
---
They spent the rest of the evening exploring their new workshop and planning how to use it. The room seemed to anticipate their needs—when Eliot mentioned wanting to test thermal dynamics, a specialized chamber appeared with precise temperature controls. When Susan wondered about runic interaction testing, a shielded area materialized with monitoring equipment.
"We need to be careful about this," Susan said as they prepared to leave. "If other students find out about this room..."
"They'll want access," Eliot agreed. "And we can't exactly patent the Room of Requirement."
"Maybe we don't tell anyone about the room itself. Just say we've found a private workspace."
"Good idea. And we should establish some ground rules for using it."
They spent a few minutes setting up basic security measures—the room seemed to respond to their intent, creating a simple access control system that would only admit them unless they specifically invited someone else.
---
The next evening, they returned with their current inventory of torchlights and heat controllers, plus materials for new projects.
"This is so much better than working in the common room," Susan said, settling at one of the workbenches. "No interruptions, no curious onlookers, and proper equipment."
Eliot was already sketching out improvements to the heat controller design. "With this level of precision tooling, we could make the devices smaller and more efficient. Maybe even add programmable temperature settings."
"Speaking of improvements," Susan said, "I've been thinking about our next product line. What about a study aid? Something that helps with concentration or memory?"
"Interesting idea. What did you have in mind?"
"Well, you know how some students struggle to focus during long study sessions? What if we could create a device that enhances mental clarity?"
Eliot looked up from his sketches. "That's... actually brilliant. And challenging. We'd need to research cognitive enhancement magic, neural interface runes..."
"I've already started," Susan said, pulling out a thick notebook. "There are references to concentration charms in several advanced texts, and some interesting work on memory enhancement in the Restricted Section."
"The Restricted Section? How did you get access?"
"I may have mentioned to Professor McGonagall that I was researching cognitive theory for a Transfiguration essay. She gave me a note."
Eliot grinned. "Clever. What did you find?"
"Fascinating stuff. Apparently, the mind has natural magical resonances that can be amplified or focused using the right runic frequencies. It's like... tuning a radio to get a clearer signal."
---
They worked late into the night, Susan researching cognitive enhancement theory while Eliot refined their existing products. The workshop's atmosphere was perfect for concentration—quiet, comfortable, and somehow inspiring.
"You know," Eliot said during a tea break, "this feels like what I always imagined a real research lab would be like. Collaborative, creative, focused on solving actual problems."
"It's better than anything I dreamed of when I first learned about magic," Susan agreed. "We're not just learning spells—we're creating new applications, pushing boundaries."
"And we're only first-years. Imagine what we could accomplish by seventh year."
"Or beyond," Susan said thoughtfully. "I mean, there's no reason we have to stop innovating after graduation. We could start a real company, develop products that help people..."
"Change the world," Eliot finished. "One invention at a time."
---
Over the following weeks, the workshop became their second home. They'd arrive after dinner, work until curfew, and sometimes sneak back for early morning sessions before breakfast.
Their productivity increased dramatically. With proper equipment and no interruptions, they could complete projects in days that would have taken weeks in the common room.
The heat controller Mark II was 30% smaller than the original, with programmable temperature settings and improved efficiency. The torchlight Mark III added a timer function and emergency beacon mode.
"We're going to need to hire help soon," Susan said one evening, looking at their order backlog. "We have requests for over a hundred devices, and that's just from Hogwarts students."
"I've been thinking about that," Eliot replied. "What if we recruited some of our housemates? Terry's good with detail work, and Anthony has steady hands for runic etching."
"A proper production team?"
"Why not? We could train them on the simpler devices, keep the advanced work for ourselves. Everyone benefits—they earn some pocket money, we increase our output, and customers get their orders faster."
"I like it. But we'd need to be careful about quality control."
"Absolutely. Every device gets final inspection by one of us before it goes out."
---
As October drew to a close, Eliot reflected on how much had changed since the beginning of term. He'd gone from a solitary inventor working in his dormitory to the co-founder of a thriving magical devices company with a secret workshop and plans for expansion.
But more than that, he'd found something he'd never really had in his previous life: a true partner. Someone who shared his vision, complemented his skills, and pushed him to be better.
"Susan," he said one evening as they packed up their work, "I want you to know how much I appreciate this partnership. I couldn't have accomplished any of this without you."
She smiled warmly. "The feeling is mutual. You've opened up a whole new way of thinking about magic for me. I used to just want to learn everything—now I want to create something new."
"To new creations," Eliot said, raising his teacup in a mock toast.
"To changing the world," Susan replied, clinking her cup against his.
Outside the workshop windows, the first snow of winter began to fall, but inside, the future felt bright and full of possibilities.