Julian located the Charms classroom before long, then continued his wandering and stumbled across a few other neat little discoveries. In one disused classroom, there was a painting of a puppy chasing a red ball across the canvas. After a bit of experimentation, he realized that if you nudged the painted ball to a specific corner, the entire frame swung forward, revealing a snug little nook hidden behind the wall.
It was not a big space, barely enough room to cram a small chest or a satchel, but Julian filed it away in his mind. It would make an ideal spot to stash certain things he could not keep on his person at all times.
The fourth floor, by contrast, turned out to be painfully dull. All he found there was the History of Magic classroom and the hospital wing. He spent nearly an hour poking and prodding walls, checking under tapestries, and quietly testing suspicious gaps behind suits of armor, but nothing revealed itself. No concealed passages, no hidden staircases, nothing.
The living portraits watching him from their frames clearly found this hilarious. More than one portrait chuckled softly as he passed, amused by his persistence and failure to turn up a single secret.
...
The fifth floor was at least more rewarding. There, Julian found the music room, an art room filled with abandoned easels and paint-splattered stools, the Prefects' bathroom, and the Muggle Studies classroom.
Portraits were everywhere, of course. It was nearly impossible to round a corner in Hogwarts without meeting painted eyes that followed you around.
The best discovery on that floor came courtesy of the oldest portrait he could find, a faded depiction of a witch in heavy robes who spoke with the slightest archaic lilt. After a bit of polite conversation and some clever questions, she eventually let slip the existence of a hidden room nearby.
Following her directions, Julian went to a particular corridor sconce and wrapped his hand around a torch mounted to the wall. Twisting it ninety degrees to the right, then shoving it straight upward, produced a soft grinding noise. The section of wall beside the torch folded inward to reveal a concealed door.
Inside was a cramped chamber in dreadful condition. Thick cobwebs hung from the ceiling, the air smelled of old dust, and broken furniture lay scattered in heaps. A cracked chair leaned against an overturned desk, and there were splintered bits of what might once have been shelves.
Despite the mess, Julian eyed it thoughtfully. With a bit of cleaning and repair work, it would be the perfect place for anything he was not technically supposed to be doing. If he ever needed somewhere private to work on "forbidden" projects, this secret room would do nicely.
...
The sixth floor was what really confused him. For the most part, it felt overly normal, with nothing immediately standing out. The only noteworthy feature he uncovered was a hidden passage that led to Filch's storeroom.
That dim chamber held all the confiscated items the caretaker had collected over the years: trick wands, cursed objects, dodgy products from joke shops, and Merlin knew what else.
Julian was almost certain this was how the twins had nicked the Marauders Map in the first place. It fit their style perfectly, slipping through a secret entrance, raiding the old squib's hoard, and sneaking back out with something priceless.
Satisfied with that conclusion, he continued upward to the seventh floor, which he knew for a fact held something far more exciting.
He eventually found the Divination classroom, heavy with draped fabrics and the faint smell of incense even from the outside. He also located a concealed route that led all the way back down to the third floor and, of course, the prize he had been hunting from the beginning: the Room of Requirement.
When he reached the stretch of wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet, Julian immediately knew what he wanted. There was no hesitation, no need to think.
He began pacing in front of the blank stone, walking past the tapestry three times while repeating a single thought in his mind.
I want all the lost money. I want all the lost money. I want all the lost money.
On his third pass, a plain wooden door appeared where the wall had been smooth moments before.
Julian grasped the handle, pushed it open, and stepped inside, half expecting a glittering trove of coins reaching up to his waist.
Instead, he was met with a rather modest sight. There was money, yes, but only a single pile of scattered coins and small pouches, barely a foot tall at most. Certainly not the overflowing mountain of Galleons he had pictured.
He stared at it for a moment, surprised that this was all the Room had deemed "lost," then stepped further in to examine his unexpected, slightly underwhelming treasure.
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