The Restlessness of Youth

Sirius stood beside the planting trough, one hand behind his back, the other gesturing in the air.

He spoke rapidly, his mouth moving quickly, his expression suggesting he was explaining something complex, but the more he explained, the more confusing it became, his brow furrowed. Eleanor squatted in front of the planting trough, clutching a pot of Mandrake tightly to her chest, her arms wrapped around the pot. She looked up at Sirius, her eyebrows furrowed, her lips downturned, her earmuffed head tilted slightly, her expression clearly saying, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Sirius pulled his hand out from behind his back, clutching a few leaves—dark green, thick, with serrated edges— Mandrake leaves. He hid his hand behind his back for a moment, then pulled it out again, probably trying to explain something; his expression changed from explanation to feigned resentment.

Eleanor's expression instantly turned ugly; her mouth gaped open, her eyebrows went from furrowed to raised, and her eyes widened as if she had witnessed some unforgivable crime.

She stood up abruptly, nearly dropping the pot from her arms. After a couple of wobbles, she grabbed it and then used her right hand to snatch the leaf from Sirius's hand. Sirius reacted quickly, raising his hand above his head.

He was more than half a head taller Eleanor, with long arms; when he raised his hand to its highest point, leaves swayed on his fingertips.

Eleanor stood on tiptoe to reach it, but couldn't; she jumped twice more, but still couldn't reach it.

She stomped her foot in anger, her heel hitting the Greenhouse floor tiles with a dull thud that could be heard even through the glass, and her earmuffs vibrated twice.

Regulus watched this scene with a smirk playing on his lips.

Eleanor changed her strategy and stopped jumping around.

She placed the pot she was holding on the planting trough next to her, freeing her hands. With one hand, she grabbed Sirius's raised wrist and pulled it down, while with the other hand, she reached over and pressed down on Sirius's face.

Sirius's head was tilted to the side, but his hand still didn't let go. His mouth was squeezed out of Transfiguration by the heel of her palm, and he was mumbling something indistinctly, probably saying, "Stop it, stop it."

He pressed down on Eleanor's head with his other hand and pushed her back.

Eleanor's head was forced back by his hand, her hands flailing wildly in the air. When she couldn't grab a leaf, she slapped his arm, making a loud slapping sound. The two of them were locked in a tangled mess.

Eleanor angrily shook off his hand and jumped back.

Two heads wearing earmuffs were not far apart, gesturing and talking rapidly, but neither could understand the other's words. Regulus stood outside the glass, finding it amusing.

Whether they forgot or did it on purpose, neither of them pulled out their wands from beginning to end.

Regulus watched patiently for a while, arms crossed.

The dispute continues in the Greenhouse.

Eleanor clearly failed to grab the leaf, so she withdrew her hand, stood there with her hands on her hips, and her mouth moving rapidly.

I couldn't hear her voice through the glass wall, but judging from the speed of her lip movements and the expression on her face, she was probably cursing.

Wearing earmuffs while swearing, the person involved had no idea how loud they were speaking; the Greenhouse glass was rattling.

Sirius stuffed the leaf into his robe pocket, pressed his hands against it to protect it, and his expression changed from smug to somewhat guilty. He unusually didn't retort; his mouth moved slightly as if he wanted to say something but then swallowed it back. He occasionally made a few hand gestures, presumably trying to explain, but it was clearly useless. Eleanor's scolding was so fluent, she didn't even pause for breath, and her speech grew faster and faster.

He poked Sirius finger, then back to his face, and with each poke he took a half-step back. After three or four steps, he leaned against the edge of the planting trough, with nowhere left to retreat.

He had a crooked smile on his face, with the corner of his mouth turned up to one side and his eyebrows lowered, probably trying to appear indifferent, but the crooked curve was a bit off, giving off a slightly ingratiating vibe.

Then Eleanor withdrew her hand.

She picked up the basin in her arms, turned to leave, and a few stray hairs in her hair fluttered in the sunlight.

He took a couple of steps, then turned back, raised his hand, took off one earmuff, and said something.

Through the glass, Regulus could only see the shape of her lips.

Sirius's expression changed from guilty to bewildered. He opened his mouth, as if to say something.

Eleanor had put her earmuffs back on, snorted, turned and strode away, the hem of her yellow robe billowing with each step. She walked out of Greenhouse No. 3, turned towards the Tool Shed, and her figure disappeared around the corner of the Greenhouse complex.

Sirius stood in front of the planting trough, his hands still on his pockets, staring blankly in the direction Eleanor had disappeared for a long while.

Then he grinned in the direction Eleanor had gone, shrugged, muttered something to himself, and followed her out.

Regulus stood outside the glass for a while, a smirk playing on his lips.

These two are quite interesting.

Eleanor Bones, Hufflepuff, Pure-bloods, a respected Pureblood families known for its justice and integrity.

Her Edgar, Edgar Bones, the current Patriarch, joined the Order of the Phoenix in the 1970s and was one of Order of the Phoenix core members. He and his wife were killed by Death Eaters during the First Wizarding War.

He was brave and skilled in battle, and was praised by Mad-Eye Moody as a true warrior.

Her sister, Amelia Bones, was known for her fairness.

He served as the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in 1996 and was one of the few truly impartial and capable officials within the Ministry of Magic. He was murdered by Voldemort in July 1996.

This family all stood on the right side, and they all paid the price for it.

He had met many people of Pure-bloods since enrolling in school, and Eleanor was the most direct example.

She never beats around the bush; her displeasure and happiness are both written on her face. When she smiles, a canine tooth is revealed, showing her straightforwardness. She carries an undisguised kindness and curiosity, treating everyone the same—generous and frank.

This kind of personality might not be unusual in other houses, but it's quite typical in Hufflepuff: sincere, down-to-earth, and unpretentious.

But when they get angry, Gryffindor might not be able to control them.

Sirius couldn't be brought down.

Sirius was never short of people surrounding him. He had a Gryffindor admirers, and those who dared to Dungbomb in the Corridor always held a natural attraction for the young wizard.

Needless to say, his close friends included James Potter, with whom he shared a penchant for mischief, and the two of them could turn anything into a prank. Lupin was his friend and his conscience, always there to pull him back before he went too far.

Peter followed him, idolized him, and tried to imitate him, though he didn't quite do it quite right.

These were his friends, and they stood with him, but they were not like Eleanor.

Eleanor certainly didn't idolize him, nor did she dislike him, judging from her reaction just now. If she really disliked him, she wouldn't have jumped up and pressed her hand against his face; she could have simply knocked him down with her wand, wouldn't she?

She just couldn't stand him stealing her leaves; she'd argue with him and curse him whenever she felt the need to. In her eyes, he was just a thieving bastard.

This is the kind of person Sirius is most lacking.

Those around him either looked up to him or were hostile towards him, but none of them would point a finger at his chest.

Nobody treated him like an ordinary person, but Eleanor did, and that's good enough.

Regulus crossed his arms, rubbed his chin, and suddenly felt a pang of emotion.

In the blink of an eye, Sirius is already fifteen years old.

The little boy who kicked over the blocks he had built in Grimmauld Place and then knelt down to help him rebuild them is now stealing Mandrake leaves from other girls.

Adolescence, a time when hormones are raging, can lead to impulsive and reckless behavior, with people jumping around and acting without even knowing what they're doing.

The matter of the leaves themselves may not have any particular significance; he did need those leaves, and the Animagus's preparation steps were there. But he could have asked someone else for them, bought them himself from Diagon Alley, or written a letter home to have them sent.

He didn't choose any of those. He chose Eleanor's little potted plant, he chose being poked in the chest and scolded by her, he chose to grin and show his teeth after being scolded, and then come back next time. Growing up comes too fast, so fast that sometimes he still thinks of Sirius as that little boy who can never be quiet.

There's a saying that goes something like this:

One cannot be aware of youth at the same time as possessing youth.

It's only when it's over and we look back that we realize it was youth.

He shook his head. It sounded a bit sentimental, but the logic was sound.

Forget it, let the young people handle their own affairs.

He withdrew his gaze and turned to walk towards the Castle.

Regulus removed the Disillusionment Charm, and his form reappeared in the sunlight.

He walked along the path by the Black Lake toward the Castle. The lake shimmered in the sunlight, and in the distance, several younger Gryffindor were skipping stones on the water.

He hadn't decided whether to go to the Library or the Room of Requirement in the afternoon when a shout came from behind him.

"Regulus!"

Eleanor.

He had sensed it long ago; the little witch had probably come out from the direction of the Greenhouse, and when she saw him here, she came running over angrily, her steps quick and heavy, her voice filled with rage.

He found it somewhat amusing, but didn't show it on his face. He stopped, adjusted his expression, and turned his head away.

Eleanor was running toward him, still clutching the Mandrake in her arms, one earmuff dangling from her neck.

Her light brown hair was tied in a loose bun, and as she ran, stray hairs fell out from her ears and clung to her cheeks.

Hufflepuff's yellow-trimmed robe swayed rhythmically, her face flushed, her breathing rapid, and her chest heaving.

She stopped in front of him, took a few breaths, then looked up, her expression righteous and indignant, her eyebrows furrowed, her lips turned down, and she looked utterly righteous. "Your brother has harassed my Ye Zi again!"

Regulus looked at her, thought for a moment, and decided not to defend Sirius.

That's really dishonest. If you're going to steal, at least try a few different places. It's so immoral to steal from just one pot.

He spoke gently and slowly, "How many pieces?"

"Three pieces!"

Eleanor's voice suddenly rose, and the basin in her arms trembled. "Four pieces last time! Seven pieces in total! And this semester has only just begun!" Her face was full of indignation, her eyes wide open, and her nostrils flared as if she were about to breathe fire.

Regulus glanced at the basin in her arms, then at the direction of the Greenhouse. Sirius was long gone; he'd probably slipped away through some door. He looked at Eleanor, relaxed, a slight smile playing on his lips, "Want me to teach him a lesson?"

Eleanor was taken aback, clearly not expecting him to say that. She stared at him with her mouth agape, then her gaze turned suspicious as she looked him up and down. Regulus's lips were still curved in a smile.

Eleanor narrowed her eyes. Was this guy smiling?

Regulus quickly regained his composure, his tone earnest and sincere. "Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

Eleanor scoffed, still somewhat doubtful. "You won't side with him?"

Regulus adopted the same righteous expression, his tone firm. "Stealing is wrong. I'll tell him that he can trade whatever he wants."

After he finished speaking, he paused, seemingly lost in thought, and looked at Eleanor, asking, "Eleanor, what do you like?"

Eleanor's expression turned confused. "What?"

"What do you like?" Regulus repeated, his tone sincere. "He's offering you something in exchange, so he needs to know what you like." Eleanor opened her mouth, then closed it again.

She looked at Regulus's face; his expression was very sincere, his eyes very serious, his tone very frank, and everything about him very proper. But she just felt that things were going in a strange direction.

She only came to complain, not wanting her brother to kill her Ye Zi, so how did it turn into exchanging something? Exchange what? What are they exchanging? Who is exchanging with whom? Her mind raced, but she couldn't figure it out, so she simply ignored it and shut her mouth.

Regulus saw that she didn't speak, so he didn't press her for details.

Ultimately, it's up to the young people to handle their own affairs.

He really wanted to ask why Sirius didn't touch other girls' leaves, but only hers. What would her expression be, and how should he respond? It would probably be very interesting.

But he held back.

No.

I couldn't resist.

"Eleanor," he said casually, his eyes kind, "Have you thought about it?"

"Um?"

Why does Sirius only step on your leaves?

Eleanor froze instantly, opened her mouth, and then her face turned red.

The redness started from her neck, spread to her ears, then to her cheeks, and finally even the ends of her hair looked like they were on fire.

She squinted, clenched her teeth, and squeezed out, "Does he think I'm easy to bully?!"

Regulus choked.

He wanted to say that wasn't what he meant, but he opened his mouth and then closed it again.

Looking at Eleanor's face, at the burning fighting spirit in her eyes, at how she went from blushing to gritting her teeth in just one second—wasn't that good enough?

He coughed lightly.

Eleanor stared at him, her eyes wide, a cold smile playing on her lips, revealing her fang.

Then her eyes narrowed, a flame of vengeance burning within them. "Tell him that if he touches my Mandrake again, I'll wand him a lesson!"

Regulus looked at her expression, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn up slightly.

He nodded seriously. "Don't worry, I will convey it truthfully."

Impossible, he won't say a word.

Eleanor snorted again, clutched the basin in her arms tighter, raised her chin, and turned to leave with a fierce determination.

After taking a few steps, her pace quickened and became more hurried, her light brown hair swaying behind her head as if she were rushing to a battlefield.

Regulus watched her retreating figure for a while, the corners of his mouth still twitching, unable to wipe them away.

Baruk poked his head out of the inner pocket, tilted his spider-like head, looked in the direction Eleanor had gone, and then looked at his chin.

The chelicerae clicked.

Regulus glanced down at it. "That witch will probably be surnamed Black from now on."

Baruk clicked his tongue, not understanding, and shrank back.

He turned and walked towards the Castle; the sunlight shone warmly on the stone path.