Caelan led Hermione and Neville all the way to the eighth floor of Hogwarts Castle.
After walking around, they finally found that famous tapestry.
Barnabas the Barmy on it was a wizard, and the picture depicted him being walloped by several trolls holding giant clubs.
“So this is Barnabas the Barmy.
Why is he being beaten?” Neville looked up at the tapestry and asked.
“Because he wanted to teach trolls to dance.
Look, they’re even wearing tutus,” Hermione added after finishing.
“I read about it in a book.” Neville laughed.
“He must be crazy.
Everyone knows trolls are stupid and brutal.” Actually, this tapestry wasn’t made to commemorate Barnabas the Barmy’s foolish behavior.
Rather, it signified that using the Room of Requirement required respecting basic laws.
One couldn’t disregard the nature and behavioral patterns of trolls like Barnabas the Barmy did in attempting to teach them ballet.
Just like how the Room of Requirement couldn’t directly conjure food.
Caelan glanced in the direction opposite the tapestry, turned, and walked up to a stone wall.
Reaching out to touch the heavy stone wall, Neville asked in confusion, “There’s nothing here.” “Don’t rush, there will be in a moment,” Caelan smiled.
After confirming the location was correct, Caelan walked past the stone wall three times while silently concentrating in his mind: “I need a greenhouse to cultivate herbs.” Hermione and Neville watched in amazement as a round archway outlined by flowing light actually appeared on the previously empty stone wall.
Both of them were shocked and excited, shouting one after another: “Caelan, look!” “A door really appeared!” “Alright, let me take you inside to look.” Without hesitation, Caelan led them inside, pushing open the door.
The three of them first saw a spacious room, followed immediately by the distinctive scent of soil.
The room was bright, with gentle sunlight streaming through the glass dome and washing over every corner.
Caelan nodded in satisfaction, thinking that it truly lived up to its name as the Room of Requirement—it even considered that cultivating herbs required sunlight.
How thoughtful.
No wonder when Dumbledore urgently needed a bathroom back then, the Room of Requirement turned into a room full of various chamber pots for him.
It truly considered every detail.
“This soil is actually real?” Neville stepped on the soft, fertile soil in surprise.
Hermione looked at Caelan with a hint of curiosity and asked, “How did you discover this place?” “Oh, last time I was passing by and wanted a bathroom, I found this room.
It turned into a room full of various chamber pots for me.
Later when I came back, it changed into other forms according to my intent,” Caelan began making up nonsense.
“So I deduced that it should also be able to turn into a greenhouse or other rooms.” “That’s incredible!” Hermione nodded, without a shadow of a doubt.
[Silver Tongue: Proficiency +1] “Neville, you can try making it produce rain or wind.
Remember to focus your mind.” “Okay, I’ll try.” Neville closed his eyes, knitting his brows tightly, and tentatively murmured, “Rain, please.” The moment the words left his mouth, heavy rain poured down in the room that had just been filled with gentle sunlight.
Neville was surprised to find that he could even control where the rain fell.
“Amazing!
This room is so convenient for cultivating herbs!” Neville exclaimed from the bottom of his heart.
“Of course.
This is the Room of Requirement.” Even Hermione couldn’t resist trying it out, making the room blow wind one moment and snow the next, having a blast.
Only after a good while did she reluctantly turn the room back to a clear, sunny day.
“This area will be reserved for Neville to cultivate herbs.” Caelan waved his wand gently, dividing the entire room into two sections, one large and one small.
The larger one had no floor, exposing soft soil, while the smaller one was paved with stone tiles.
“This smaller area will be used for practicing spells or resting and studying.” Caelan stowed his wand and turned to ask Neville, “Neville, have you learned the Summoning Charm yet?” Back on the train, he had suggested Neville learn the Summoning Charm to make it easier to find Trevor.
Now that school had been in session for nearly a week, he wondered how his progress was.
Neville scratched his head in embarrassment.
“Not yet.
The Summoning Charm is too difficult.” “I’ll practice with you.” “Really?” Neville was ecstatic.
“That’s wonderful!” While he said practicing together, in reality, Caelan was teaching him step by step.
“Don’t rush.
Focus your mind.” “Pay attention to your hand posture.” “Yes, remember this feeling.” After teaching Neville over a dozen times, Caelan only stopped when Neville managed to make a book shift its position.
“I’m sorry, Caelan.
I’m too stupid.” Neville felt somewhat downcast, sweat trickling down his cheeks and dripping onto the ground.
Using and practicing spells was extremely mentally draining.
Even without large physical movements, high-intensity spell practice would leave one feeling thoroughly exhausted.
So in the wizarding world, magical reserves and spell power were essentially determined by a wizard’s mental force.
The same spell cast by different people produced different effects.
This depended on a wizard’s mental force and their proficiency with the charm.
That was why the Fiendfyre Grindelwald unleashed could nearly burn down Paris, while the Fiendfyre cast by some could only be used to roast potatoes.
This was the chasm between genius and mediocrity.
“Remember that feeling just now.
As long as you keep practicing, you will definitely succeed.” Caelan patted his shoulder and encouraged, “Even Dumbledore wasn’t a top-tier wizard right from the start.” “Take a rest first, and continue practicing later.” Hermione, who glanced over from time to time, noticed Caelan was free.
Pretending it was offhand, she asked, “Caelan, there’s a spell I don’t quite understand.
Could you explain it to me?” In truth, was there any spell she didn’t understand?
The young girl simply wanted to talk to Caelan.
After a brief discussion between the two, she went back to practicing on her own, satisfied.
Caelan finally had time to flip through the spellbook he carried with him.
In the end, this practice session ended with Neville making a book skim half a meter across the floor.
After instructing the two to keep the Room of Requirement a secret, Caelan led them out.
However, right after going down one floor, they were stopped by someone.
“Thank goodness, I finally found you!” Hermione’s roommate, Parvati Patil, shouted with excitement, turning around.
“Lavender, she’s here!” Hermione’s other roommate, Lavender Brown, ran over at a hundred-meter sprint pace.
She grabbed Hermione’s hand at once.
“Where have you been?
We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” “What’s wrong?
What happened?” Hermione was puzzled.
Why had her two roommates suddenly become so enthusiastic?
“Goodness, don’t you know yet?” “You earned six points for Gryffindor from Professor Snape!
Word has spread like wildfire!
We all want to know how you did it!” “Yeah…” Hermione gave a bitter smile.
“But in a single class, he docked seven points from Gryffindor.” “That’s nothing.
If there ever comes a day he doesn’t dock points from Gryffindor, everyone will probably think he drank the wrong potion.” “Stop thinking about that and tell us how you did it!” Parvati and Lavender each pulled one of Hermione’s hands, walking her toward the Gryffindor common room.
“See you tomorrow, Caelan.” Hermione didn’t forget to look back and bid farewell to Caelan.
Who knew Snape awarding points to Gryffindor could cause such a sensation…
It seemed his image of “not a single point awarded to Gryffindor, not a single point docked from Slytherin” was truly deeply ingrained in people’s minds.
Shaking his head, Caelan and Neville continued downstairs.
When turning a corner, Neville was still pondering the Summoning Charm and accidentally bumped into someone.
A round dungball that looked as if it had been rolled together by a giant dung beetle arced through the air, about to hit the floor.
“Oh, careful!” Fred held out a bag with both hands and caught the dungball.
“If it hits the ground, this Dungbomb will go to waste.
It still has a big purpose!” “Yeah, every one used is one fewer,” George chimed in.
“I’m so sorry, I was distracted,” Neville snapped back to reality and hurriedly apologized.
“No problem,” Fred and George said simultaneously, then spoke together again, “Do you two want to buy a Dungbomb to play with?”