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HOGWARTS: REGULUS LORD OF THE STARS
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American Horror: Grind Edition
Julien shifted in the armchair for the seventeenth time, nearly dropping Advanced Alchemical Theory into the fireplace.
The Hogwarts kitchens were located on the basement level, directly beneath the Great Hall. You could reach them by following the corridor that led toward the Hufflepuff common room. Cho Chang had shown them the way once.
"Can you stop wriggling around like a catfish on dry land?" Elizabeth Rosier peered over the top of The Daily Prophet. "You've been like this since dinner. Don't tell me you're the one who got hit with some kind of 'grim' curse?"
"Worse than the Grim," Julien muttered, spreading the book across his knees and lowering his voice. "Grindelwald taught me 'Elemental Distillation' last week. I need to practice it again, or all that theory is going to slip out of my head like tears of time sand."
(Tears of time sand was a translucent amber crystal with tiny grains of sand that seemed to flow eternally inside. It could record the moment of regret from the last person who touched it. But the crystals were extremely fragile—if they fell and shattered, they would instantly turn into ordinary sand and scatter everywhere.)
Liriya was sitting by the fireplace weaving a protective charm. She looked up, her ice-blue eyes blinking. "Madam Pince won't let you set up a full lab in the library. After that potion spill last time, you're already on her 'high-priority surveillance' list."
"Snape locks the Potions classroom at night," Elizabeth added, fingers tapping the armrest. "And Filch is extra twitchy because of the Dementors. He'll lecture you for half an hour if a suit of armor clanks too loudly. We probably won't find any empty classrooms after curfew either."
"What about Myrtle's bathroom?" Julien suggested quietly.
"You haven't heard?" Liriya laughed. "The second-floor girls' bathroom has been sealed off."
Julien thought for a moment, then suddenly grinned and closed the book. "Right. How did I forget about that place?"
"What place?" Both girls leaned in at once.
He lowered his voice and spoke the name that had circulated through Hogwarts for centuries, yet was rarely ever truly found:
"The Room of Requirement."
---
Ten minutes later, on the eighth-floor corridor.
"Are you sure it's here?" Elizabeth stood with her arms crossed, eyeing the tapestry opposite them suspiciously—The Troll Clubbing Barnabas the Barmy. The troll was once again smashing its club into Barnabas's head with a dull thunk.
"Troll clubbing Barnabas the Barmy. Yep, this is the right tapestry." Julien paced back and forth, muttering under his breath, "I need a room for alchemical experiments… I need a room for alchemical experiments… I need a room…"
On his third pass, a smooth wooden door suddenly appeared in the blank stone wall. The handle was polished brass, shaped like a curled raven.
"Merlin's socks," Liriya whispered in awe. "It actually showed up."
Julien pushed the door open. A rich mixture of sulfur, lavender, and aged moonstone washed over them. The sight inside made all three of them gape.
The room was circular, with a domed ceiling of enchanted glass that showed a full night sky of stars—even though they knew the real ceiling of the castle was right above them.
In the center stood a massive oak worktable. Its surface was covered in glowing, ever-shifting alchemical runes that brightened with a soft silver-blue light whenever Julien stepped closer, as if confirming his identity.
"Look at that!" Liriya pointed to the corner. A towering brass distiller, nearly three feet tall, shaped like a proud peacock, stood there. Its tail feathers extended into seven glass tubes, each connected to crystal vials of different colors.
The distiller was already humming softly, bubbling away like a contented cat.
Elizabeth's attention was caught by an entire wall of "material cabinets." Except these weren't ordinary cabinets—they were countless floating glass orbs suspended in mid-air.
Each orb contained something different: one held glowing fireflies that were actually solidified moonlight; another contained a maple leaf forever frozen in autumn; the highest orb even held a tiny storm cloud that occasionally rumbled with thunder.
Countless more ordinary ingredients filled the rest.
"This is ridiculous," Elizabeth reached toward the thundercloud orb, only for it to playfully float half a foot higher. "Even the Rosier family storeroom doesn't have—"
Her words were cut off by a loud clatter-clang.
Julien was fiddling with an "automatic grinder" on the worktable—a little bronze house-elf figure that was furiously pounding a piece of moonstone in a mortar while humming a terribly off-key opera tune.
"I think it's singing The Magic Flute," Julien said, trying not to laugh. "Except the lyrics have been changed to 'Grind, grind, grind it to powder, grind it to dust, grind it to ash…'"
"What's it singing?" Liriya asked.
"Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's The Magic Flute."
"That werewolf?"
"Alright, enough bad jokes, Mr. Black. Focus!" Elizabeth tried to look stern, but her mouth was twitching. "Aren't you supposed to be doing elemental distillation?"
Julien pulled out the "Shadow Dial" Grindelwald had given him—the pocket-watch-sized alchemical device—and placed it in the center of the worktable.
"Whoa!"
The table seemed to sense it immediately. The runes on its surface rearranged themselves into a complex concentric array.
"We need to channel the fragmented energy from the sundial into this array," Julien explained. "But first we have to prepare the 'harmonizing agent'—three drops of diluted bitterroot solution, three ounces of moonlight extract, and…"
"And this," Liriya pulled a small crystal vial from her robes. "Eternal Night Spring Water from the North. You mentioned it over the summer, so I collected some right away."
"Perfect." Julien began working with the mechanical arms that descended from the ceiling. Their ends were fitted with various clamps and scoops, moving like they were conducting some bizarre symphony.
Something interesting happened when he added the diluted solution.
The moment the drops hit the beaker, the liquid inside turned a vivid pink, then popped with a small bubble. Inside the bubble floated a tiny translucent image of Grindelwald, frowning as he said, "Temperature's too high, you idiot."
"It comes with built-in teaching?" Elizabeth stared in disbelief.
"Looks like it," Julien quickly adjusted the flame. "Grindelwald must have imprinted memory markers on this particular technique…"
Liriya, meanwhile, had become fascinated by the "failure disposal bucket" in the corner. It was a walking copper bucket with three legs. Every time someone tossed failed materials inside, it would let out a satisfied burp and perform a clumsy little tap dance.
"It seems to really like burnt moonstone," Liriya said, feeding it more scraps until the bucket spun in a happy circle, a smiling face appearing on its side. "It's cuter than my family's sled dogs."
As the experiment progressed, the liquid in the distiller separated into three distinct layers: gold on top, silver in the middle, and at the bottom—an actual miniature starry sky, with tiny stars slowly rotating inside the fluid.
"This is perfect," Julien stared at the liquid cosmos. "Am I actually a genius at alchemy?"
"Mostly because the tools in this room are ridiculously cooperative," Elizabeth pointed to the corner of the worktable. A plate of small cookies had appeared, each shaped like different alchemical symbols. "It even prepared snacks."
Liriya picked one up and took a bite. "Ginger flavor… with a hint of mistletoe?"
"That's the taste of my brilliance," Julien joked—then suddenly froze.
He heard footsteps outside the door.