My partner at Hogwarts is Tom

"marvelous!!"

The twins clapped and cheered excitedly, almost shaking Tom off the sofa.

Overjoyed, Fred and George leaped into the air simultaneously, skillfully turning in mid-air, ready to celebrate this historic alliance with their signature backside collision.

"For the Weasley brothers and Boss Tom—Aww!"

However, joy turned to sorrow.

Perhaps they were too excited, or perhaps they underestimated the messy floor of the Room of Requirement.

George landed precisely on a rolling brass telescope tube.

He slipped, lost his balance, and crashed into Fred, who had just landed.

"Ouch!"

"Wow!"

Two screams rang out almost simultaneously.

The two of them, like a pair of rolling gourds, wobbled and staggered, before plunging headfirst into the small hill next to them, which was made up of discarded crucibles, old textbooks, and unknown magical parts.

"Pfft—Splash!"

The small mountain of clutter shook a few times from the impact, kicking up a cloud of old dust.

Four legs clad in Gryffindor robes, with mismatched socks on their feet, were futilely flailing about outside the pile of junk.

Tom lay on the sofa and witnessed the whole thing.

His beard twitched, and finally he rolled his eyes wide, letting out a disdainful "humph" from his nose.

He had deep doubts about the "steadiness" of his two newly recruited henchmen.

Tom gracefully stood up, strolled over to the four kicking legs, stretched out a paw, and then pulled them back forcefully.

"Ouch!"

"Hey!"

Fred and George looked like two radishes pulled from the ground.

Covered in dust and feeling dizzy, he rolled out of the pile of junk, collapsed on the ground, coughing incessantly and spitting out dust from his mouth.

Each of them had a newly acquired "trophy" perched on their head.

On Fred's head was a crystal ball about the size of a grapefruit, completely transparent but covered with spiderweb-like cracks.

What's peculiar is that the inside of the crystal ball is not empty, but rather contains miniature, ever-changing scenes.

Sometimes lightning flashes and thunder roars, dark clouds gather; sometimes the sky is clear and the sun shines brightly; sometimes snowflakes flutter and the cold wind howls...

Various weather conditions unfold in a fast-forwarded manner inside the crystal ball, refracting strange halos through the cracks.

A worn-out flying broom hangs diagonally on George's head.

The broom handle was badly scratched, with most of the paint peeling off, revealing the dark wood underneath.

The most striking feature is the broom head—it is not a neat bundle of thin twigs, but rather an exaggerated, almost split-in-two "Y" shape.

The slender branches stood up haphazardly, resembling the tail of some startled, bristling magical creature.

The two shook their dizzy heads and removed the things from their heads.

"Hey, George! Look at this!" Fred held up the cracked crystal ball that kept changing the weather, its eyes gleaming beneath the dust.

"A weather forecasting ball! These things are really expensive. I'll take it back and study it; maybe I can come up with something new!"

George also pulled the broken broom off his head, carefully examined the blurry inscription on the broom handle, and then exclaimed in surprise.

"Hey Fred! Look here! Nimbus 1900! Merlin's beard, that's an old relic from my grandfather's generation! It's just... it looks pretty thoroughly broken."

He patted the broom head that was split open, but the broom didn't react at all, and a few thin twigs even fell off.

"Nimbus 1900?" Fred leaned closer and poked the split broom head with his finger in disgust.

"Come on, George, this outdated broom can't even sweep properly, what are you going to do with it? Expect it to fly us away? If it could fly, I'd eat the broom head!"

It seemed to be in response to Fred's taunt.

The lifeless Nimbus 1900 in George's hand suddenly trembled very slightly, almost imperceptibly.

George sensed it; he blinked, his curiosity completely piqued.

"It reacted! It just moved!"

He excitedly said that without thinking twice, he flipped over and climbed onto the broom, grabbing the battered broom handle with both hands.

"Get up! Old friend, let's see if you can still..."

He hadn't finished speaking.

"Buzz—!!!"

The old broom suddenly erupted with a deep, angry hum!

Its last shred of dignity seemed to be deeply wounded by words like "outdated broken broom" and "can't even sweep properly".

The next second, it was completely out of George's control and shot forward like an arrow!

"Whoaaaaaah!!!" George's scream instantly echoed throughout the Room of Requirement.

The broom didn't fly straight; instead, it took an extremely tricky turn and suddenly changed direction.

The broom's split head struck Fred's buttocks with pinpoint accuracy and a whoosh, "bang!" as Fred was still studying the crystal ball.

"Ouch!" Fred was knocked off his feet, and the weather crystal ball in his hand flew out, drawing a parabola in the air that flashed with lightning and rainbows.

Before he could react, the crazed Nimbus 1900 turned back again and flew low overhead.

George screamed and instinctively reached out, miraculously grabbing Fred by the back of his robe collar!

"Let go! George! You idiot—ah!!" Fred was also lifted off the ground.

The broom didn't stop; it dragged the screaming George and the flailing Fred through the air, leaving a chaotic trail.

Amidst the buzzing sounds, it was as if a drunken and irritable knight was determined to take these two outspoken young wizards to experience the "wrath of the antiques."

It swept over the sofa where Tom was sitting, and the wind it created ruffled the hair on Tom's head.

Then, with a sweep of the broom, Tom was lifted up as well.

"Meow--!!"

"Boss Tom!" George shouted in disarray in the wind, his expression a mixture of surprise and delight.

The initial panic lasted less than ten seconds.

As Nimbus 1900 dragged the two people and the cat, it began to shuttle and fly up and down at high speed among the towering piles of clutter in the House of Requirement.

The twins' adventurous spirit and Weasley-esque optimism completely overwhelmed their fear.

"Yoo-ho!!" Fred shouted first.

He adapted to this uncontrolled speed and even began to enjoy the thrill and the perilous moments.

"This is way more exciting than riding a toy broom and dodging apple trees in the orchard!"

"Hahaha! That's right!" George laughed too, though he could barely control the direction, he tried to adjust his posture to sit more steadily. "Old man, you've got some temper! Speed ​​up! Faster!"

Tom, perched on the broom's tail, quickly got into the swing of things.

Tom stood firmly on all fours, his body swaying naturally with the broom's sharp turns and rises and falls, demonstrating an astonishing sense of balance.

"Meow!"

Tom even started "improvising".

First, it loosened its grip on the broom's tail, then stood on tiptoe, relying solely on its hind legs and tail for balance.

Then, amidst the twins' exclamations and cheers, Tom made a light leap and landed right at the very tip of the broom handle.

Then... he turned around, facing away from the direction of flight, and rode his broom backwards! He even crossed his legs!

"That's awesome, Tom!" Fred and George cheered in unison, almost forgetting that they were riding a century-old broom that was out of control and could fall apart at any moment.

Tom seemed encouraged by the cheers and became playful.

It then deftly flipped back to George from the front of the broom handle.

This time, it tried to grab the broom handle with one paw, its whole body hanging sideways in the air, while the other paw leisurely stroked its beard.

"That was awesome! One more, Tom!" George shouted excitedly.

Fred chimed in, "That's right! Let's do something even more amazing! Like... a triple somersault in the air?"

Tom wagged his tail triumphantly, clearly ready to respond to the "audience's" calls for an even more flamboyant move.

Tom adjusted his posture, ready to pounce...

However, neither the twins, who were having a blast, nor Tom, who was engrossed in the performance, noticed.

Beneath them was the weathered Nimbus 1900, now "provoked" by words.

At this moment, the broom handle, which was already covered with cracks, emitted an extremely faint and ominous "creaking" sound after experiencing this series of high-load, irregular high-speed flights and sharp turns.

At the split point of the broom head, several key connecting branches are quietly breaking off.

Just as Tom was about to perform a difficult "multi-flip backflip on a broom handle"—

"Snap!"

A clear, crisp sound of wood breaking was drowned out by the twins' cheers and the buzzing of the broom.

Immediately afterwards, Nimbus 1900 seemed to have exhausted its last bit of magic, or as if it had finally completely disintegrated.

The entire flight path suddenly became extremely unstable, shaking and spinning wildly!

"Wow!"

"What's going on?!"

"Meow?!"

Amidst gasps of surprise, the broken broom ceased to follow any path.

It was like a wild horse that had broken its reins and lost its leg, howling in despair.

Head down, it hurtled straight down at an accelerating pace toward a mountain of junk made of old wardrobes, rusty scales, and large rolls of discarded parchment!

"We're going to crash!!"

"Hands in your hands!!"

"Meow!!"

The screams and meows of the two people and the cat mingled together as they plummeted towards the seemingly soft, yet actually concealing, mountain of junk, along with the out-of-control orange light and the tattered broom...

"Boom—!! Crash—!!!"

The loud crash and the sounds of objects collapsing and tumbling echoed for a long time in the vast space of the Room of Requirement.

The dust rose like a mushroom cloud, slowly enveloping the area.

A few seconds later, the dust settled slightly.

The mountain of debris had been smashed into a large crater, with all sorts of broken pieces flying everywhere.

From beneath a pile of parchment and rags came a rustling sound and a few suppressed coughs.

First, a dusty cat paw trembled as it emerged from under a pile of old robes and rummaged around for a bit.

Next, Fred's messy red hair pushed open a cracked crucible lid.

Then came George, who struggled to emerge from a pile of quills and broken binoculars, a colorful feather of unknown origin dangling from his mouth.

The two people and the cat looked at each other, all covered in dust and dirt, with all sorts of debris stuck in their hair and fur.

After a brief silence.

"Pfft... Hahahaha!!!"

"Ouch, my butt...but hahahaha!"

"Meow~ Aww~"

A burst of wild laughter and slightly painful groans erupted simultaneously, echoing through the secret, miraculous, and chaotic room.

The "culprit," the Nimbus 1900, was now broken into several pieces, scattered around them. One piece of the broom handle was still stuck in an old hat, swaying slightly.

It was as if they were shaken by the earth-shattering laughter.

The small, crumbling pile of debris next to them, which had just been hit by Nimbus 1900 and was already on the verge of collapse, emitted a teeth-grinding "creaking" sound from within.

Fred, George, and Tom's laughter stopped abruptly, and all three pairs of eyes turned to the source of the sound, their pupils reflecting the "mountain" that was beginning to tilt slightly.

"Oh, no..." Fred murmured.

"No way, again?!" George wailed.

"Meow--!!!"

But it was all too late.

"Boom—!!!"

A more muffled and continuous sound of collapse echoed throughout the room, even more so than before.

The small mountain, made up of old textbooks, broken cauldrons, crooked wardrobes, rusted armor parts, and countless unnamed magical remnants, collapsed with a roar, as if its foundation had been removed!

The debris, like a colorful mudslide, surged towards the two people and the cat who had just survived the ordeal and hadn't even fully gotten up yet.

"Run—!"

"Get out of the way!"

"Meow!"

The screams of terror and the meows of cats were instantly drowned out by the crashing sound of objects falling.

The field of vision was filled with fluttering parchment, tumbling bottles and jars, and all sorts of broken things.

They only had time to instinctively curl up and cover their heads before being completely swallowed up by the second wave of debris.

……

The dust settled slowly once more.

This time, the ruins appeared even larger and more chaotic, almost completely covering that corner of the ground.

After a moment of deathly silence, some scraps of parchment and rags were pushed aside at the top of the pile of debris.

Tom's head, covered in gray dust and cobwebs, stubbornly emerged.

He shook his head, feeling dizzy, and shook off a few feathers and an unknown piece of metal. His face was full of confusion, wondering, "Who am I? Where am I? What have I been through?"

Tom struggled to pull his body free from the weight of the clutter.

Because of the movement of his head, an object slid down from a higher place and "plop," landed squarely on Tom's head.

Tom froze completely.

It was a crown that looked somewhat old and dull.

The metal has lost its former luster and looks dull. The style is simple and antique, but in the center is a large gemstone whose true blue color cannot be hidden even when covered in dust.

Tom was completely bewildered by the sudden appearance of this "hat".

He blinked unconsciously, and the crown swayed slightly with the movement of Tom's head.

"Cough! Ptooey!"

Tom tried to call out, but first coughed up a cloud of dusty gas, and then started vomiting.

First, there was a small, broken fragment of a crystal ball that no longer changed the weather; then, half a parchment horn with illegible ancient runes written on it; and an old wand, clearly broken in two with its core exposed…

Tom was like a mini garbage disposal unit, constantly spitting out all sorts of strange bits and pieces that he had accidentally swallowed while tumbling through the ruins.

Finally, he coughed forcefully, and his throat bobbed.

"Puff!"

Tom spat out a miniature, terracotta potted plant, along with a small clump of hard, compacted soil and a small, withered, brown plant, and it rolled to the side.

With this forceful cough, the already precarious crown on his head finally slipped off, landing with a soft "clink" on the pile of clutter in front of Tom, gems facing upwards.