Even the lime-haired girl knew her plan was really bizarre, if not really creepy (okay, so maybe it was creepy); but she had to admit... there was something peculiarly comfortable about wearing a skirt. That was not even the best part, but it did easily make her forget about the fifty or so school rules she must be breaking. Not that she ever bothered with adhering to school rules, anyway (it must be a Gryffindor thing).

Now about the best part, she might have to thank Kim Jongin’s throng of fans for that. Actually, she needed to thank them for a lot of things, but really mostly due to them chasing the Hogwarts champion to the seventh floor. They must have looked like Dementors swooping in for their deathly Kiss; otherwise Jongin would not have allowed himself into a room which he seemed to have never been into, judging by the look on his face when she had initially made the suggestion.

She could not really blame the Slytherin’s mistrust. Slytherins were by nature suspicious—made more potent by their distinct sense of self-preservation. So generally, whether other people were sincerely offering a helping hand or not, Slytherins would be bound to think twice about accepting the help. There was also the fact that she could have easily been one of the fan girls rabidly chasing Jongin. Not that the lime-haired girl wasn’t a fan, by the way—it was just that she was a fan boy.

Yep, that’s right. The lime-haired girl was biologically a boy, but now with lady parts!

Oh, how Lu Han thanked the particularly exceptional brand of magic running through his veins. It had skipped generations, this particular talent; so much so that his parents had forgotten that they even had Metamorphmagus blood in the family. They were reminded only when Lu Han had been born with jet-black hair, only to shock the entire Lu clan five seconds later when his hair colour changed to cobalt blue. By the age of three, Lu Han had a very large palette of colours to choose from, which he fondly made use of, making his parents dizzy with the frequency of hair colour change.

At the age of seven, Lu Han could replace his nose with a pig snout, amuse his grandparents with his tap-dancing acromantula legs, or scare his cousins by taking on the appearance of one of them and announcing he was the evil twin. Needless to say, Lu Han had been a pro at magically transforming himself, long before he was even allowed the use of a wand at eleven-years-old.

Things became more exciting when he had started to go to Hogwarts, even though there were certain restrictions. Knowing of the consequences of his abilities, the Headmistress had imposed limits as to his permissible appearance changes: No impersonating the teachers and school staff. No impersonating another student to take an exam in his or her place (well, what Professor McGonagall actually said was to never impersonate a student ever). And certainly no impersonating Harry Potter on Valentine’s Day or any other day of the year.

There might have been other things banned too, but nah, Lu Han was of legal age now. As long as he was not hurting anyone, he pretty much did whatever he wanted—or in this case, transformed into anyone he wanted. Still, he stuck to the non-existing kind of people to minimize the complications of affecting other people’s lives. (He had learned the hard way that the consequences to this were very, very dire indeed.)

Anyway, Lu Han was extra grateful for his Metamorphmagus abilities when he had thought of the idea of dressing up as and being a girl in order to spy on Kim Jongin. Why would he not? He could easily blend in with a swarm of giggling girls and ogle at this, dare he say it, magnificent specimen that had bewildered Lu Han ever since he was in first year.

And then there was the use of the pleated skirt—the liberating piece of clothing that he thought should be worn by blokes too, if the ease in which one can move while using it was enough reason, coupled with the reduced constraints for down there that trousers usually inflict. No one would accuse him of stalking, too, as every time he ventured out to set eyes on Jongin, it would be as someone else—a different girl. More specifically, it would be as one of the seven different personalities—all girls—he routinely changed into.

So perhaps Lu Han’s plan was out-of-this-world-even-by-wizarding-standards and also grade O (Outstandingly) insanely creepy, and Professor McGonagall was probably going to hex his buttocks into the next century if she was to find out. But all he could think of was how it was bloody brilliant, because aforementioned magnificent specimen now stood in front of him—correction: her.

***

Jongin was looking at her, stumped and awfully shocked by the way his eyes had grown big and his jaw had gone slack, as he digested the words coming from the feminine voice.

You don’t know what you got yourself into, Kim Jongin.

For the life of him, he could not flee or move a muscle, as if he had been put under the Full Body-Bind Curse.

The lime-haired girl sniggered. “Well,” she said, cocking her head to the side, all the while not taking her eyes away from the Slytherin. “Make yourself at home.”

Jongin watched her walk away and make herself comfortable on one of the cushions spread on the floor near the glowing fireplace. It baffled him when she plugged the ends of two white strings into her ears. He continued observing her as she pressed a button on a strange, white, rectangular object, and then proceeded to hum a melody he could not place.

Still, he did not budge from his spot by the door. After tearing his gaze away from her frame, Jongin tentatively scanned the room and realized he didn’t know where they were. The space looked like any other room that could be found inside Hogwarts, only that it was larger than most Hogwarts classrooms. Its contents also consisted of thingamabobs he could not recognize. Something was telling him that those were Muggle contraptions. He was unfamiliar with them but was smart enough to know they ran on eckeltricity? No, wait. Electricity. However, he wasn’t quite sure if Hogwarts even had electricity, so why were those Muggle objects here? And where was here exactly?

His curiosity and confusion somewhat dampened the dread he had felt in his gut earlier. Mustering the courage to speak, he directed his gaze towards the lime green-haired girl and asked softly, “What is this place?”

She turned to look at him and Jongin noticed how the corners of her lips were raised in a smile (less mischievously this time, but the mischief was still just there) that was so wide, her bare teeth were flashing so brightly. Yet if Jongin could have been blinded by brightness, it would have been by something else.

Jongin knew he was smart, and he would like to think he could come up with a variety of words to describe what he was seeing. Yet at the moment, the only thing his mind could process and zero in on were her doe eyes. That was the only available description of the orbs on her face: doe-eyed, bright, and in fact so captivating, he almost missed it when she replied, “It’s the Room of Requirement. We’re still on the seventh floor, if you’re wondering.”

The girl was still talking, but Jongin was lost now because suddenly he was feeling silly for having been quite afraid of her earlier. Not that anyone could have blamed Jongin, for she really had been laughing almost maniacally at him.

Nevertheless, something else entirely was stirring in his gut at the sight of her talking, at the glow on her face when she seemed to be talking animatedly about something he could not quite process anymore. Something about the room—the particular room they were in, the Room of Requirement she said?—having been mentioned in a book she’s read: Hogwarts, A History. How the room had special powers and that it gives the person whatever he/she needs.

Special powers? What witch thinks of the description “special powers?”

“The original room was destroyed during the Battle of Hogwarts, but now it’s functioning the same way again.”

The girl, by now Jongin had noticed that her necktie had the colors blue and bronze (Ah, so she was a Ravenclaw), stared expectantly at him for an awed expression on his face, which should be there if he was listening properly to her explanation. He didn’t like the way she was searching his face, still sporting an uncanny grin that put Jongin on edge.

(He also didn’t like the way he wanted to study her face.)

He racked his brain for another question in order to get a grip on himself, and was secretly pleased when he could still come up with something. “So this room gives you whatever you need?”

“Mmm-hmm. Except for food, because you know, food is one of the exceptions to Gamp’s Laws of—“

“—Elemental Transfiguration. I knew that,” Jongin cut in irritably. Most of all, he didn’t like the way she was making him feel small, like a child. Jongin was an adult now, thank you very much. (And it was irrelevant how he felt like a scared little kid earlier when they had first spoken—completely irrelevant.)

“The room also transforms itself,” she continued, ignoring the interruption. “For instance, it can turn into a toilet if you happened to be outside looking for one…”  She let her sentence trail off meaningfully.

When the implications of her statement settled, Jongin went wide-eyed and uncharacteristically embarrassed for a Slytherin. “Are you—I don’t need a toilet right now!”

The look on his face was indignant, which made the Ravenclaw girl burst out laughing, which served to make Jongin feel all the more indignant.

“I really don’t!”

“So you say,” she said, still half-laughing. “The thing is—whatever you require, this room can provide. And right now, what you need is a place in which to hide, correct?”

The Slytherin kept mum.

“So why don’t you put your buttocks on one of these cushions and just make yourself comfortable at least until we head out to dinner?”

Jongin still did not speak and made to glue himself to the room’s entrance. After another pointed look directed his way, however, he finally relented.

***

An hour later, Jongin and the Ravenclaw girl made their way downstairs to the Great Hall for dinner. He realized that he still didn’t know her name. He didn’t have a chance to ask since most of their time together kept in the Room of Requirement was spent in silence. Semi-silence, Jongin reckoned, since the girl took to humming a tune every now and then while Jongin continued with his Transfiguration homework. She also went back to sticking the ends of the white strings into her ears, making Jongin think that whatever he had to say, she probably wouldn’t hear anyway.

As they neared the entrance to the Great Hall, Jongin was comprehending thanking her for inviting him into the Room of Requirement. If she hadn’t done so, Jongin would have been left to his own devices dealing with his rabid fans and only Merlin knows if he would have been able to get away from them. When he finally decided to turn to her, however, he was taken aback to discover that she had been staring at him—something that she had seemed to have been doing inside the Room of Requirement earlier too. The corners of his eyes had caught the action once or twice, but his mind dismissed it simply as a trick of the light.

Stopping abruptly, she smiled at him and pulled open one of the doors to the Great Hall. She motioned for him to go in first and mumbled, “See ya.”

Jongin carried himself inside, giving a brief but odd look at the fact that she had opened the door for him. He waited a bit for her to follow but was surprised when the door closed behind him. Confused, he opened it again and peered outside.

But the girl with the lime green hair was nowhere to be found.

A/N: Please let me know if there are still errors to be corrected or if there is an awkward part in the story. Also, give me some love, will you? ^_^ I promise to update soon! (Just don't force me to make the Unbreakable Vow on this, lol)