Silan led Hermione and Neville all the way up to the eighth floor of Hogwarts castle.
After a quick look around, they finally located the famous tapestry.
It depicted the wizard Barnabas the Barmy, who was currently being soundly thrashed by a group of trolls wielding massive clubs.
“So that’s Barnabas the Barmy,” Neville said, looking up at the tapestry.
“Why are they beating him up?” “Because he tried to teach trolls how to dance ballet,” Hermione chimed in immediately.
“Look, they’re even wearing tutus.
I read about it in a book.” Neville let out a laugh.
“He must have been completely mad.
Everyone knows trolls are as stupid as they are violent.” In truth, this tapestry wasn’t hung to commemorate Barnabas’s sheer foolishness.
Rather, it served as a subtle warning: anyone using the room opposite it had to respect fundamental magical laws.
One couldn’t simply ignore a creature’s inherent nature or the rules of reality, much like Barnabas attempting to teach ballet to trolls.
It was the exact same principle that prevented the room from materializing actual food out of thin air.
Silan glanced across the corridor toward the blank stretch of wall opposite the tapestry.
He walked over and placed a hand on the thick, solid stone.
Neville frowned in confusion.
“There’s nothing here.” “Don’t worry, there will be in just a moment,” Silan said with a smile.
Having confirmed their exact position, Silan paced back and forth in front of the hidden wall three times, focusing intently on a single, clear thought: *I need a greenhouse to cultivate magical plants.* To Hermione and Neville’s absolute astonishment, a shifting line of shimmering, pale light began to trace itself along the blank stone, slowly shaping into the outline of a large, rounded archway.
Filled with shock and excitement, both of them gasped.
“Silan, look!” “A door!
A real door actually appeared!” “Alright, let’s head inside and see,” Silan said without hesitation, pushing the heavy wooden door open and leading them through.
The moment the three of them stepped inside, they found themselves in a vast, expansive room, instantly greeted by the rich, distinct scent of damp soil.
The entire space was incredibly bright; warm, gentle sunlight poured down through a magnificent glass dome overhead, illuminating every single corner.
Silan nodded in quiet satisfaction.
It truly lived up to its name as the Room of Requirement; it had even anticipated the need for natural sunlight to cultivate magical plants.
It was incredibly thorough.
It reminded him of the story about Dumbledore finding himself in desperate need of a bathroom, only for the room to provide him with an entire chamber filled with a highly detailed collection of chamber pots.
It really thought of everything.
“The soil…
it’s completely real?” Neville asked, his jaw dropping slightly as he took a tentative step onto the soft, fertile earth.
Hermione, meanwhile, looked at Silan with a curious expression.
“How on earth did you discover this place?” “Oh, the last time I passed by here, I was looking for a restroom and happened upon it,” Silan lied smoothly without missing a beat.
“It gave me a room full of highly unique chamber pots.
When I came back later, it transformed into a completely different layout based on what I was thinking.
So, I figured it could probably turn into a greenhouse or any other room we might need.” “How utterly extraordinary!” Hermione said, nodding along, completely satisfied with the explanation.
[Silver-Tongued: Proficiency +1]** “Neville, why don’t you try making it rain or create a bit of wind?
Remember to focus your mind completely.” “Right, I’ll give it a go.” Neville closed his eyes, his brow furrowing deeply as he whispered tentatively, “Let it rain.” The moment the words left his mouth, the warm sunlight vanished from a section of the room, replaced by a sudden, steady downpour.
Neville realized with absolute amazement that he could actually control the exact location of the rainfall.
“This is brilliant!
Having a room like this makes cultivating herbs so much easier!” Neville marveled from the bottom of his heart.
“Of course it does.
It’s the Room of Requirement, after all.” Even Hermione couldn’t resist giving it a try.
She spent the next several minutes calling up a gust of wind one moment and a flurry of snow the next, thoroughly enjoying herself.
It took a while before she reluctantly allowed the room to return to a clear, sunny sky.
“This section over here will be reserved for Neville’s herbology work,” Silan said, giving his wand a gentle flick.
He neatly divided the room into two distinct sections: a massive area left with bare, rich earth for planting, and a smaller section paved with smooth stone tiles.
“And this smaller area will be for practicing charms, or just resting and studying,” Silan added, lowering his wand before turning to Neville.
“Neville, have you managed to learn the Summoning Charm yet?” He had suggested that Neville learn the Accio spell back on the Hogwarts Express to make finding Trevor easier.
Now that their first week of term was almost over, he wanted to see his progress.
Neville scratched his head, looking rather self-conscious.
“Not yet…
the Summoning Charm is terribly difficult.” “I’ll practice with you.” “Really?” Neville’s face lit up with absolute delight.
“That would be brilliant!” While Silan called it practicing together, it was essentially a private tutorial, with Silan guiding him step-by-step.
“Don’t rush it, focus your mind.” “Watch your hand positioning.” “There, remember that exact feeling.” Silan patiently coached Neville through the movements over a dozen times, only stopping once Neville managed to make a textbook shift slightly from its position.
“I’m sorry, Silan.
I’m just so thick.” Neville looked entirely downcast, sweat rolling down his forehead and dripping onto the stone floor.
Casting and practicing magic was an immense drain on one’s concentration.
Even without much physical exertion, high-intensity spell practice could leave a wizard feeling utterly exhausted.
In the wizarding world, a person’s magical stamina and the sheer power of their spells were directly tied to their mental fortitude.
The exact same incantation cast by two different people would produce vastly different results, purely dependent on their mental strength and mastery over the charm.
It was the literal chasm that separated a prodigy from the average wizard–the reason Grindelwald’s black fire could nearly incinerate all of Paris, while someone else’s might barely manage to roast a potato.
“Hold onto that feeling you just had.
As long as you keep practicing, you’ll get it,” Silan said, patting his shoulder reassuringly.
“Even Dumbledore didn’t start out as the most powerful wizard in the world.
Take a quick breather, and we’ll keep at it in a bit.” Hermione, who had been glancing over periodically, noticed Silan was finally free.
She walked over, trying to sound completely casual as she said, “Silan, there’s a particular charm I’m struggling to understand.
Could you explain it to me?” In reality, there wasn’t a single spell on the syllabus that she didn’t understand.
The young girl simply wanted an excuse to talk to him.
After a pleasant, brief discussion, she went back to her practicing, thoroughly content.
Silan finally caught a moment of peace to flip through the spellbook he had brought along.
By the time their practice session concluded, Neville had successfully managed to make a book slide across the floor for about half a meter.
After reminding them both to keep the Room of Requirement an absolute secret, Silan led them back out into the corridor.
However, they had barely made it down a single flight of stairs before being intercepted.
“Thank goodness!
We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Parvati Patil, Hermione’s roommate, called out in excitement before whipping around to yell down the hall.
“Lavender!
She’s over here!” Lavender Brown, Hermione’s other roommate, came sprinting around the corner at a dead run, instantly grabbing Hermione’s hands.
“Where on earth have you been?
We’ve been searching for ages!” “What is it?
What’s happened?” Hermione asked, thoroughly bewildered by the sudden, overwhelming enthusiasm from her roommates.
“Blimey, you mean you don’t know?” “The story about you earning six points for Gryffindor from Professor Snape has spread everywhere!
The entire house wants to know how you did it!” “Right…” Hermione offered a distinctly forced smile.
“But he also went and docked seven points from Gryffindor during that exact same lesson.” “Oh, that doesn’t count.
If a day comes where he *doesn’t* take points from Gryffindor, we’ll assume he’s accidentally swallowed the wrong potion.” “Come on, stop worrying about that and tell us everything!” Parvati and Lavender each took hold of one of Hermione’s arms, practically dragging her toward the Gryffindor Common Room.
“See you tomorrow, Silan!” Hermione called out over her shoulder, not forgetting to bid him goodbye.
Silan watched them go, mildly surprised that Snape awarding points to Gryffindor could cause such an absolute sensation.
It seemed his reputation for “never giving Gryffindor a point, and never taking one from Slytherin” was truly legendary.
Shaking his head with amusement, Silan continued downstairs with Neville.
As they rounded a sharp bend, Neville was still deep in thought over the mechanics of the Summoning Charm, leading him to crash blindly right into someone.
A large, round object–looking suspiciously like a massive ball of dung rolled together by a giant beetle–sailed through the air in a high arc, on a direct trajectory for the hard stone floor.
“Whoa, steady on!” Fred Weasley lunged forward, catching the sphere perfectly in an open canvas bag.
“If this hits the floor right here, the whole Dungbomb goes to waste.
It has a grand destiny ahead of it!” “Too right.
Use one, lose one,” George added seamlessly, stepping up beside his twin.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Neville stammered, snapping out of his daze and hurrying to apologize.
“I wasn’t looking where I was going.” “Don’t mention it,” Fred and George replied in perfect unison.
Then, a mischievous glint in their eyes, they spoke together once more: “Care to buy a Dungbomb to play with?” —