Chapter 115: The Room of Gifted Hope
The dark, distant sky swallowed the last pine needle on the horizon. In the hidden room, the fireplace crackled quietly. The anti-biting glove, left on the table by Sean, twitched slightly in the draft.
Mr. Filch looked down. A small patch of the fading sunset light, catching the gilded edge of the glove, rested on his hand.
Sean walked briskly through the corridors, the castle's usual weekend chaos in full swing. Bruce and the Hufflepuffs had returned with an avalanche of goods, including a box of floating candles.
When Sean had met them, Bruce had looked like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards—his hair was wild, his robes were dusted with an unknown pink powder, and his boots were caked in mud. Leon and Pister looked no better. Leon, seething like a boiling kettle, had simply grabbed Bruce by the collar and dragged him away.
"Bruce... is he...?" Sean had asked, hesitant.
"Oh, him?" Pister had replied with his usual good-natured smile. "He swapped all the Toffee Eclairs at Honeydukes with Hiccup Sweets. The shop was so full of hiccuping wizards they clogged the stairs. They said you could hear them all the way down in the dungeon, louder than the shop bell."
"..." Sean was speechless. Pulling off a prank like that in a crowded shop couldn't have been easy.
He'd then noticed Pister's robes were covered in small singe holes.
"That," Pister had explained patiently, "was because he set off enchanted fireworks right when someone was trying to propose. The launcher tipped over and exploded in the poor bloke's arms. Turns out, the man was very proficient with the Fire-Making Charm…"
Hermione, who had just joined them, gasped. Neville just trembled.
"Oh, and," Pister had added, "he secretly poured Itching Powder into someone's Hair-Raising Potion, then told them, 'Itching means it's working!'…"
Hearing this, none of them felt much sympathy for the piteous wails Bruce had made as Leon dragged him away.
"Sometimes," Pister had mused, "we wonder if he should have been in Gryffindor." He'd pressed a box of Fudge Flies into Sean's hand and ambled off. Fudge Flies. A curious name.
When they returned, the hidden room had been magically decorated.
"Just put them here, Sean," Justin said, bustling around with infectious energy. He'd insisted he could do it himself, but the others couldn't just stand by and watch.
Justin set the floating candles in the corners and over their desks, ensuring everyone had ample light. Bruce had also sent along three jack-o'-lanterns enchanted with Everlasting Flames. Sean wasn't sure of the difference, but he placed two under the wooden tables, casting spooky, grinning shadows on the rug, and the third in the bookshelf by the entrance, illuminating their notebooks. Neville, who kept grabbing the wrong notebook in the dim light, was particularly grateful.
The room, now tidy and organized, finally felt like a real, cozy sanctuary. Rugs covered the cold stone, soft cushions and sofas huddled near the fire, and the bookshelf was filled with their notes and the magical progress chart. Neville, the room's designated gardener, had placed small, cheerful plants on every available surface.
Justin had even installed a large, enchanted mirror by the door. As Neville passed, it barked, "Stand up straight! Tuck that shirt in! You look slovenly!" Neville had jumped, frantically adjusting his uniform.
The process of cleaning and decorating had, itself, been a marathon of practical magic. Dust and grime, hidden for years, had required dozens of Scouring Charms, and arranging the heavy furniture had been a true test of their Levitation skills. The work was exhausting, but far more engaging than simple practice. By the time they finished, Sean's [Levitation Charm: Expert (600/9000)] and [Scouring Charm: Adept (300/3000)] had both seen significant gains.
"One problem," Justin said, collapsing onto a sofa. "If we keep calling this 'the classroom,' how do we distinguish it from... well, actual classrooms?"
"He's right!" Hermione said, pausing in her admiration of the room. "We need a name."
The idea was met with immediate approval.
"It has to be special," Justin said, "something that reflects what we do here."
"The... After-Class Study Base?" Hermione suggested. She glanced at Sean, who, having already recovered thanks to a potion, was back to reading his Transfiguration notes.
"Mm," Sean nodded.
"You two are hopeless!" Justin groaned. "Neville, any ideas?"
"The... Warm Room?" Neville offered shyly.
"Not quite a name," Justin said kindly, "but it is warm." He sighed, realizing he was on his own. "I've got it! The Room of Gifted Hope! 'Gifted' like us, and 'Hope' for... well, for what we find here."
"W-wow," Neville stammered, looking impressed.
"Not... terrible," Hermione conceded, though her smile gave her away.
"Sean?" Justin turned.
"Mm," Sean nodded. He paused, then added, "Good."
"Then it's settled!" Justin declared. "Now we just need to make a sign."
(End of Chapter)
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