HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

From that day on, this room on the eighth floor became their unspoken secret.

Ian spends most of his free time here, tending to his "little garden".

With Professor Sprout's occasional guidance and the help of Severus's old guide, coupled with the room's subtle response to the grower's desire for the plants to grow well, the peppermint and rue plants actually recovered slowly and sprouted tender new leaves.

Finally, a cluster of trembling green shoots emerged from the tuber of the jumping root.

Kevin, on the other hand, became madly in love with practicing spells.

He could finally act freely without worrying about causing damage.

Although his spells were still unreliable, his ability to make feathers fly, wine glasses change color, and cushions tap dance was improving day by day.

Sometimes he got so into his practice that he almost knocked over Ian's flowerpot, which always earned him a yell from Ian and a calm reprimand from Aris.

Aris gradually "borrowed" some less popular but substantial books from the library to fill that bookshelf.

He often nestled in his soft chair, bathed in the room's comfortable light, immersed in his books on runes or magical theories, occasionally looking up to offer a sharp theoretical analysis of Kevin's erroneous gesture or Ian's whimsical planting idea.

Severus was the quietest and most regular of the group.

He usually comes here alone after finishing his daily homework and preparation.

Sometimes he would stand in front of the potion-making station and use the better basic materials he brought or those "sponsored" by Ian to conduct some simple experiments or purification exercises outside of the textbook.

His movements were always precise, economical, and meticulous; the only sounds in the room were the faint grinding sounds, the soft sloshing of liquid, and the occasional rustling of him turning the pages of a book.

He rarely engaged with Kevin's shouting and only occasionally gave brief responses to Aris's theoretical discussions, but the stability and privacy of the room clearly provided great convenience when he needed to focus on certain materials that required specific lighting or environment.

More often than not, he would simply sit near the bookshelf, reading his own books, or—Ian noticed—his gaze would linger for a long time on the few potted plants that were growing stronger each day.

On one occasion, Ian even discovered that Severus, when no one was looking, quickly and deftly adjusted the supporting branches of a rue plant, his movements so skillful that they didn't seem like those of a novice.

This room became their haven from the subtle pressures within the college, classroom competition, and the scrutinizing gazes in the common room.

Here, Kevin doesn't need to hide his love for "outdated" Quidditch teams; Aris can freely deduce obscure theories undisturbed.

Ian can confidently try combining the glowing and clouding spells taught by Professor Flitwick to simulate "morning dew and sunlight" for his plants; and Severus can also have a moment of peace without being disturbed or judged.

All four of them were there on Thursday night.

The room was quiet and always ready to help.

The only sounds were the soft scratching of a quill pen across parchment, occasionally punctuated by the gentle rustling of pages turning.

Kevin had been frowning at his paper on the fairy rebellion for half an hour, and there were still only a few scattered lines on the paper.

Aris had finished writing long ago and was now studying a thick book, "The Evolution of Ancient Magical Word Roots."

Severus sat on a high stool next to the potion-making station—where the light was best—preparing for next week's potion-making lessons, occasionally jotting down small notes in the margins.

Ian sat cross-legged next to his beloved plant, using the light of a floating magic lamp to revise the cultivation plan by comparing it with the book.

"I can't take it anymore!"

Kevin suddenly slammed the quill pen onto the table, and the ink bottle jumped.

He scratched his already messy brown curly hair, leaned back in his chair, and let out a wail.

"How could Professor Binns make the fairy rebellion sound so hypnotic? And I have flying lesson tomorrow! My head is full of brooms right now, I can't write anything at all!"

Ian looked up from his book and yawned: "Then you'd better pray that when you fall off the broom tomorrow, the broom in your head doesn't 'turn' into a complete mess."

"Don't jinx it!" Kevin glared at him, then slumped his shoulders. "Seriously, are you guys nervous? My dad said the first time he got on a broom, he went straight into the chicken coop and got covered in chicken feathers and... something else."

Aris's gaze drifted over the top of the book, and he said calmly, "According to 'Flying Broomsticks: Principles, Maintenance, and Safe Flight Guide,' the main causes of first-flight accidents include muscle stiffness due to excessive tension, improper grip, and incorrect takeoff angles."

"By following Mrs. Hodge's basic guidelines, 87 percent of primary accidents can theoretically be avoided."

"Oh, thank you, Aris, I feel much better now," Kevin said dryly, "'Theoretically'."

Severus turned a page in his book and said in a low voice without looking up, "Keep your center of gravity above the middle of the broom handle, and gently push off the ground when taking off, don't use too much force. Control your direction by leaning your body and using your mind, not by brute force to twist the broom head."

Kevin blinked. "How do you know so much? Have you flown?"

"I've read the book," Severus replied briefly, his gaze still fixed on the complex potion recipe diagrams.

Ian, however, became interested and sat down next to Severus: "What book are you reading? It explains things much better than 'The Complete Book of Flying Broomsticks'."

"An old manual." Severus said no more, clearly showing little interest in the topic.

Kevin sighed, picked up his quill again, and muttered, "I hope it doesn't rain tomorrow... Merlin, please don't embarrass me in front of so many people, especially Gryffindor..."

……

The weather was surprisingly good the next day.

In the afternoon, the first-year students gathered on the flat lawn in front of the castle, where two rows of old but well-maintained brooms were neatly placed on the ground.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin students huddled together in small groups, the atmosphere subtly tense.

Mrs. Hodge stood between the two teams of brooms, explaining the basics in a loud voice: how to summon the broom, the correct grip, and most importantly, how to make the broom obey your commands and leave the ground smoothly.

"Stretch out your right hand, place it above the broom handle, and say clearly, 'Get up!'" Mrs. Hodge demonstrated.

"Arise!" came the uneven shouts from the ranks.

Ian's broom immediately jumped into his hand, and next to him, Kevin's broom also stood up neatly. He raised his eyebrows at Ian triumphantly.

Lily's broom rolled half a circle on the ground and then stood up obediently, and she laughed happily.

The broom in front of Severus merely stirred lazily before lying back down.

He pursed his lips even tighter, shouted again, and shouted even harder. The broom sprang up and hit his palm hard. He frowned slightly, then gripped it firmly.

A few suppressed snickers came from Gryffindor.

James Porter easily made the broom jump in one go, and he twirled the broom handle with his fingers in satisfaction.

Sirius Black held his broom lazily, his gray eyes sweeping over Slytherin, pausing briefly on Severus, a smirk playing on his lips.