As time marched forward, a palpable tension enveloped the entire Hogwarts campus, signaling the imminent arrival of the final exams.

Students were diligently engrossed in their academic pursuits within the hallowed halls of the Hogwarts library and along the bustling corridors.

The air was filled with the rustle of pages turning, the scratching of quills against parchment, and the occasional murmur of students engaged in collaborative study sessions.

In the Gryffindor common room one evening, Ron and Harry found themselves engrossed in a wizard chess match.

Unfortunately for Harry, Ron’s tactical prowess proved superior, resulting in yet another victory for the red-haired wizard.

Amidst the post-game cleanup, Ron couldn’t help but notice Harry’s distracted demeanor. Curious, Ron inquired, “Harry, why do you seem a bit off today? You’ve never lost so quickly before!”

Halting his chess piece arrangements, Harry sighed deeply and responded, “Ron, take a look around.”

Following Harry’s prompt, Ron surveyed the Gryffindor common room.

Although it was populated by numerous students, a peculiar pattern emerged.

Unlike Harry and Ron, who were focused on their chess game, other Gryffindor students were grouped in twos and threes and engaged in hushed discussions.

Some sat alone in secluded corners, absorbed in their books.

Observing this scene, Ron’s hands stilled, prompting Harry to elaborate, “I don’t know why, Ron. Watching them, I’ve lost interest in playing wizard chess. There’s even a faint… a kind of…”

As the conversation unfolded, Harry found himself grappling with the challenge of articulating his emotions.

However, before formulating his thoughts, Ron interjected, “It’s like… a sense of guilt,” Ron stated, capturing the essence of what Harry was struggling to convey.

Harry swiftly nodded, confirming that Ron had accurately captured his sentiments.

In response to this revelation, Ron’s interest in the ongoing chess game waned. He suggested, “Same here, Harry. You know better than me, Harry. So why don’t we try and follow Hermione’s example for once and read our textbooks?”

Agreeing with Ron’s proposal, Harry deliberated for a moment before nodding decisively.

The two companions then made their way back to the dormitory.

As they prepared to gather their textbooks and head to the Gryffindor common room, a loud announcement from the Gryffindor prefect echoed through the corridor, “It’s curfew time; please proceed to your dormitories!”

Instantaneously, the excitement that had momentarily lifted Harry and Ron’s spirits dissipated.

With a feeble voice, Harry lamented, “I was just getting ready to study…”

Ron, equally disheartened, added with a pout, “You can read on your bed. I want to practice magic spells; I’m still not proficient enough with the Floating Charm.”

Dejectedly returning to their bedroom, Ron suddenly exclaimed, “I’ve got an idea, Harry!”

Startled by Ron’s outburst, Harry responded with a hint of irritation, “Ron, can you not make a scene? What do you think you can do?”

Ron gestured towards a piece of clothing near Harry’s bed and exclaimed, “Harry, it’s time for your invisibility cloak to shine!”

Harry’s gaze followed Ron’s indication, landing on his invisibility cloak.

After a moment, realization dawned on him, and he exclaimed, “You mean the Room of Requirement?”

Ron enthusiastically nodded, affirming, “Exactly! We need a dedicated space for studying. If the Room of Requirement has such a room, the resources within it could significantly aid us in preparing for the final exams!”

Despite Ron’s optimism, Harry harbored some doubts.

After pondering for a while, he expressed his concerns, “But the Room of Requirement is where Wentworth usually goes, especially at night. What if we run into him?”

Ron’s eyes sparkled at Harry’s words, and he replied eagerly, “That would be even better! If Wentworth is there, we might get his guidance. Our efficiency would definitely be much higher than if we were to study on our own!”

Harry, finding merit in Ron’s suggestion, nodded in agreement.

As Harry and Ron readied themselves to use the Invisibility Cloak and make their way to the Room of Requirement, an inconspicuous tower in Hogwarts witnessed an unexpected event.

The enchanted lock of the tower, which had remained sealed, was suddenly opened from the outside.

Stealthily entering the tower was Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor at Hogwarts, and the temporary vessel for the second-generation Dark Lord, Voldemort.

The room, untouched for an extended period, bore signs of neglect, with a layer of dust covering surfaces.

Occupying the center of the tower was a peculiar desk, upon which rested an intriguing object.

Urged by the voice emanating from the back of Quirrell’s head, he cautiously advanced toward the desk, his senses heightened.

“Be more quick on your feet, idiot! The item we seek is on that desk,” urged the disembodied voice.

Following the command, Quirrell approached the desk, discovering two items silently awaiting attention.

His fingers lightly traced the surface of an ancient book with a peeling cover, its texture suggesting it was crafted from the hide of a black dragon.

The black dragon skin, once impervious to swords, now displayed signs of wear and tear as it served as the cover for the ancient book.

Despite its generous initial quality, time had proven to be the sharpest sword, gradually eroding the resilience of the dragon skin.

The longevity of this ancient tome surpassed even that of Hogwarts Castle itself.

Adjacent to the weathered book, a silver-white ink bottle resembling the purity of a unicorn’s blood stood alongside a faded quill pen, both frozen in a quiet tableau.

The ink bottle seemed to carry a timeless elegance, stained by the passage of ages.

Observing the contents of the desk, Quirrell sensed an elevated level of excitement from the entity within him, resonating with his own anticipation.

“It’s them! Absolutely! The Quill of Acceptance and the Book of Admittance! This is the first time I’ve laid eyes on them!” proclaimed the possessed Quirrell.

In the face of the relentless march of time, capable of outlasting even death, certain artifacts bore witness to the eons, transcending the boundaries between ancient and modern eras.

The Quill of Acceptance and the Book of Admittance on Quirrell’s desk stood as artifacts that bridged the gap between the ages, a testament to the enduring legacy of Hogwarts.

Unexpectedly, the Quill of Acceptance autonomously emerged from the ink bottle, while the Book of Admittance emitted a distinctive “swipe” sound, initiating its own movement.

Before Quirrell’s astonished eyes, the faded quill quivered as it floated towards the Book of Admittance, halting precisely at its summit.

Simultaneously, an inexplicable force guided the Book of Admittance to the latest page.

This unfolding spectacle revealed to Quirrell, and even the possessing entity Voldemort, the intricate process by which Hogwarts selected its students.

A process inherently unpredictable, contingent upon sheer luck.

Intently observing, Quirrell witnessed the gradual descent of the Quill of Acceptance, just as it was poised to make contact with the Book of Admittance.

“Snapped.”

The Book of Admittance autonomously closed in an instantaneous twist, leaving Quirrell in perplexity and awe.

While he was lost at what the voice was currently trying to make him do, the sight of the Quill of Acceptance and Book of Admittance right before him was enough to distract him from the other thoughts.