Do You Want to Buy a Dungbomb?

Silan led Hermione and Neville all the way to the eighth floor of Hogwarts Castle.

After circling around for a while, they finally found the famous tapestry.

Barnabas the Barmy was a wizard, and the tapestry depicted him being mercilessly thrashed by several Trolls wielding massive clubs.

The tapestry of Trolls beating Barnabas the Barmy

"This is Barnabas the Barmy? Why is he getting beaten up?" Neville asked, looking up at the tapestry.

"Because he tried to teach Trolls how to dance. Look, they're even wearing ballet skirts." Hermione added, "I read about it in a book."

Neville laughed. "He must have been mad. Everyone knows Trolls are both stupid and savage."

In truth, this tapestry was not meant to commemorate Barnabas the Barmy's foolishness.

Rather, it suggested that one had to respect certain fundamental rules when using the Room of Requirement. One could not be like Barnabas the Barmy, ignoring a Troll's nature and behavioral instincts in an attempt to teach it ballet.

Just as the Room of Requirement could not conjure food out of thin air.

Silan glanced in the direction directly opposite the tapestry, then turned and walked over to a stone wall.

He reached out and touched the heavy wall. Neville asked curiously, "There's nothing here."

"Don't rush. There will be soon," Silan said with a smile.

After confirming that the location was correct, Silan paced back and forth in front of the wall three times, all the while silently repeating in his mind.

I need a greenhouse for growing herbs.

Hermione and Neville watched in astonishment as a circular archway outlined in flowing light appeared in the previously blank stone wall.

Both of them were shocked and excited, crying out at once.

"Silan, look!"

"A door really appeared!"

"All right, let's go inside and have a look."

Without hesitation, Silan pushed open the door and led them in.

The first thing the three of them saw was a vast room, followed by the distinctive scent of soil.

The room was brightly lit, with gentle sunlight streaming through a glass dome and filling every corner.

Silan nodded in satisfaction. As expected of the Room of Requirement—even the sunlight needed for growing herbs had been considered. How thoughtful.

No wonder that when Dumbledore had urgently needed a bathroom, the Room of Requirement had conjured an entire room full of chamber pots of every kind.

It truly thought of everything.

"Is all this soil actually real?" Neville asked in surprise, stepping on the soft, fertile earth.

Hermione, meanwhile, looked at Silan curiously. "How did you discover this place?"

"Oh, when I passed by here last time, I wanted a bathroom, and that was when I found this room. It conjured an entire room full of chamber pots for me. When I came back afterward, it changed into other things according to my wishes." Silan began making things up. "So I guessed it could probably turn into a greenhouse, or some other sort of room."

"That's incredible!" Hermione nodded, not doubting him in the slightest.

[Silver Tongue: Proficiency +1]

"Neville, you can try making it rain or wind. Remember to concentrate."

"All right, I'll try."

Neville closed his eyes, his brow tightly furrowed, and tentatively whispered, "Rain."

The moment he spoke, heavy rain began pouring down in the room that had been filled with gentle sunlight just seconds before.

Neville discovered in amazement that he could even control where the rain fell.

"This is amazing! This room is so convenient for growing herbs!" Neville exclaimed sincerely.

"Of course. This is the Room of Requirement."

Even Hermione could not resist trying it herself, making the room windy one moment and snowy the next, having the time of her life.

Only after quite a while did she reluctantly change the room back to clear weather.

"This area will be for Neville to grow herbs." Silan gave his wand a light wave, dividing the room into one large and one small section.

The larger section had no floor, leaving soft soil exposed, while the smaller one was paved with stone bricks.

"This smaller area can be used for practicing spells, or for resting and studying." Silan put away his wand and turned to Neville. "Neville, have you learned Accio yet?"

He had suggested on the train that Neville learn Accio so he could find Trevor more easily.

It had been nearly a week since term began, and he did not know how Neville was progressing.

Neville scratched his head awkwardly. "Not yet. Accio is too difficult."

"I'll practice with you."

"Really?" Neville's face lit up. "That would be great!"

Though he said they would practice together, Silan was really teaching him step by step.

"Don't rush. Focus."

"Pay attention to your hand position."

"That's right. Remember this feeling."

Silan taught Neville more than a dozen times before finally stopping once Neville could make the book shift position.

"I'm sorry, Silan. I'm too stupid."

Neville looked dejected. Sweat ran down his cheeks and dripped onto the floor.

Casting and practicing spells consumed enormous amounts of energy. Even without much physical movement, intense spell practice could leave someone utterly exhausted.

Thus, in the wizarding world, magical reserves and spell power were actually determined by a wizard's mental strength.

The same spell produced different results when cast by different people.

That depended on a wizard's mental strength and proficiency with the spell.

That was why Grindelwald's black fire had nearly set Paris ablaze, while some people's black fire could only be used to roast potatoes.

That was the gulf between geniuses and mediocrities.

"Remember that feeling from earlier. As long as you keep practicing, you'll definitely succeed."

Silan patted him on the shoulder and encouraged him. "Even Dumbledore did not become a top wizard from the very beginning."

"Rest for a while first. Then we'll continue practicing."

Hermione, who had been glancing over from time to time, noticed that Silan was free and casually asked, "Silan, there's a spell I don't really understand. Can you explain it to me?"

What spell could she possibly have failed to understand?

The girl merely wanted an excuse to talk to Silan.

After the two discussed it briefly, she finally went off to practice on her own, thoroughly satisfied.

Silan finally had some time to flip through the spellbook he carried with him.

In the end, their practice session concluded with Neville making the book fly half a meter while skimming the floor.

After reminding the two of them to keep the Room of Requirement a secret, Silan led them back out.

But after going down just one floor, they were stopped by someone.

"Thank goodness, I finally found you!" Hermione's roommate, Parvati Patil, turned her head and shouted excitedly, "Lavender, she's here!"

Hermione's other roommate, Lavender Brown, came sprinting over at full speed.

She grabbed Hermione's hand.

"Where have you been? We've been looking for you forever!"

"What's wrong? What happened?"

Hermione found it strange. Why had her two roommates suddenly become so enthusiastic?

"Oh my God, you don't know?"

"You got Professor Snape to give Gryffindor six points! Everyone is talking about it! We all want to know how you did it!"

"Well..." Hermione gave a bitter smile. "But in that one class, he deducted seven points from Gryffindor."

"That's nothing. If there ever comes a day when he doesn't deduct points from Gryffindor, everyone will probably think he drank the wrong potion."

"Stop thinking about that. Tell us how you did it first."

Parvati and Lavender each took one of Hermione's hands and pulled her toward the Gryffindor common room.

"See you tomorrow, Silan."

Hermione did not forget to turn back and say goodbye to Silan.

Who would have thought that Snape giving Gryffindor a few points would cause such a sensation...

It seemed his image of "never giving Gryffindor a single point and never deducting a single point from Slytherin" was truly deeply ingrained in everyone's minds.

Shaking his head, Silan continued downstairs with Neville.

As they turned a corner, Neville was still thinking about Accio when he suddenly bumped into someone.

A round ball of dung, seemingly rolled together by a giant dung beetle, arced through the air and was about to hit the floor.

"Oh, careful!" Fred held open a sack with both hands and caught the dung ball. "If it hit the ground, this Dungbomb would go to waste. It has plenty of uses!"

"That's right, and every one we use is one less," George chimed in.

"I'm really sorry. I wasn't paying attention." Neville came back to his senses and hurriedly apologized.

"It's all right," Fred and George said simultaneously, then spoke in unison again. "Do you want to buy a Dungbomb to play with?"