That evening, the footsteps of five people echoed through the corridor leading to the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.
Hermione turned her head, her voice tinged with eagerness: "Did Pipp tell you what Nios called us for?"
Harry quickly glanced at Ron and Neville, shrugging: "No. He just said 'Room of Requirement, gather,' and then 'pop' and he was gone."
"I know! That was Apparition!" Ron immediately interjected, "That's a really powerful magic!"
Harry's eyes lit up: "Really? I wonder if it's hard. If I could learn it, I'd never be late for class again!"
Draco unceremoniously poured cold water on the idea: "Don't dream. Apparition is magic that can only be learned in higher grades, and…" He deliberately drew out his words, "Even if you learn it, you can't use it freely without a Ministry of Magic license! Unless you want to be prosecuted!"
Hermione frowned, looking at Draco in confusion: "Then why can House-elves?"
Draco cleared his throat and explained: "Their Apparition is different from a Wizard's. Besides, they use it to serve Wizards, so the Ministry of Magic naturally won't interfere."
Hermione pursed her lips. Although her thinking had changed a bit recently, Draco's explanation still made her uncomfortable.
She brought the topic back: "Alright… then did Pipp tell you?"
Draco's body visibly stiffened, his gaze, like a distress signal, shot towards Harry and Ron.
His meaning was clear: I just helped you guys, now it's your turn to help me!
Harry and Ron received the signal but tacitly turned their heads away at the same time, one pretending to study a spiderweb on the ceiling, the other staring at his shoelaces.
Unable to rely on these two, Draco's gaze drifted to Neville, who had been trying to minimize his presence… Never mind, he looked more nervous than anyone.
"Uh… that…" Draco stammered, thinking of an excuse, "When Pipp came, I was writing a letter to my father… I didn't pay much attention to what he specifically said, I just heard Nios tell us to gather in the Room of Requirement."
Hermione eyed them suspiciously.
Why were these guys all so strange today? They were definitely hiding something from her.
Seeing her gaze shift to Neville, Draco quickly gave Harry a frantic look.
Harry sighed inwardly, gritting his teeth and changing the subject: "He… Hermione! That book, 'Quidditch Through the Ages,' that you found earlier… I didn't hear everything you said last time, could you tell me more about those Quidditch tips? Especially for Seekers?"
He knew Hermione too well; just give her a chance to lecture on knowledge, and she could talk endlessly for half the day.
Sure enough, Hermione's eyes instantly lit up, and her previous doubts were temporarily cast aside: "Oh, Harry! You're finally interested! That book is truly amazing! Did you know, Quidditch originated from…" She immediately began to explain enthusiastically, from its origins to the rules, and then to tactical analysis.
Ron looked at Harry, who had a "life is meaningless" expression, and Hermione, who had entered "encyclopedia" mode, then quietly moved closer to Neville and patted his shoulder sympathetically.
Draco also breathed a sigh of relief, leaning in and whispering: "Let's go quickly, don't let Nios wait too long."
Fortunately, it wasn't far to the eighth floor.
Soon, they saw Azazel, who was standing at the door looking impatient.
"You're finally here!" Azazel complained, "That Peeves guy, he bounced back and forth three or four times! Always trying to ambush me!"
Hermione looked him over, seemingly unharmed: "Did he succeed?"
Azazel disdainfully flicked his tail: "Succeed? Him? Besides suddenly jumping out and startling me, he couldn't harm a single hair on me! The only problem is he's incredibly annoying! If Nios hadn't forbidden me from touching him, I would have chewed him up for a snack already!"
Harry gave him a look of obvious disbelief.
"Hey! What kind of look is that!" Azazel bristled, "Don't look at me like this! I'm a demon! Dealing with an emotional aggregate like him, who has no authority, is as simple as crushing a bug!"
However, except for Draco, who was listening somewhat seriously, Harry, Ron, and even Neville were all trying to stifle their laughter.
It was simply that Azazel's image of being "educated" by Nios in various ways was too deeply ingrained in their minds.
"What are you laughing at! Get in!" Azazel, red-faced with anger, turned and pushed open the heavy door of the Room of Requirement.
Once the door opened, there was only an unfathomable darkness inside, and not a single ray of light from outside could penetrate.
Harry and the others didn't think much of it and stepped inside.
Hermione was about to shout "be careful," but they had already vanished into the darkness.
She hesitated for a moment, walked to the door, and tentatively stretched her arm into the darkness; it seemed to feel nothing special.
Just as she breathed a slight sigh of relief, a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist!
"Ah!" Hermione shrieked in fright. She was about to pull her hand back but was pulled inside by the hand.
She instinctively closed her eyes the moment she passed through the darkness.
The expected feeling of suffocation did not appear; instead, there was a familiar sight.
The room's arrangement was exactly the same as when they celebrated Nios's birthday last time!
Under the warm candlelight, in the center of the round table, a beautiful three-tiered cake emitted an enticing sweet aroma.
She opened her eyes and saw the person holding her; Nios stood before her, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"Happy Birthday," he said softly.
"Happy Birthday!" Harry, Ron, Neville, and Draco's voices rang out simultaneously, filled with genuine joy.
Hermione was completely stunned.
Since childhood, Hermione had been a "different" child.
While other children rolled in sandpits and chased each other, she preferred to huddle in a corner, burying herself in the words of a thick book.
This "specialness" made her an outcast at school.
In the atmosphere of Western schools that advocated "coolness" and "fitting in," a girl who loved reading often meant loneliness.
No friends, so she could only read; because she only read, it was even harder to make friends.
She seemed to be caught in an inescapable vicious cycle.
Until that owl brought the acceptance letter from Hogwarts.
At that moment, all her feelings of not fitting in seemed to have an answer: she was a Witch! She was never meant to belong to that "ordinary" world.
When Professor McGonagall took her to Diagon Alley, the Witch's erudition, elegance, and power deeply impressed her and became her template for the future.
Especially after learning that Professor McGonagall and the great Dumbledore both came from Gryffindor, it solidified her determination to enter the Lion House.
She had imagined Hogwarts countless times: it should be full of wise and elegant Wizards like Professor McGonagall, right? A temple of knowledge, a place where she could finally be "normal."
However, reality poured cold water on her dreams.
Outside the Hogwarts classrooms, the world of young Wizards was fundamentally no different from Muggle schools.
Although she made friends, anxiety followed her like a shadow.
Ron, Neville, and Draco all came from Wizarding families; they could always casually mention common knowledge she had never heard of.
Harry, though Muggle-born, had the halo of the "Savior."
The only one with a similar background, Nios, happened to have conflicting ideas with her.
Watching Ron waste his talent, she often wanted to speak up and advise him, but feared harming their friendship.
This pervasive sense of crisis forced her to bury herself in the stacks of books in the library, numbing herself with endless knowledge, to the point that she even forgot what day it was.
At this moment, looking at the warm candlelight, the sincere smiles of her friends, and the cake that read "Happy Birthday Hermione," all the suppressed and overlooked grievances and emotions instantly broke through her defenses.
Tears welled up without warning, streaming down her cheeks.
Azazel felt the atmosphere was just right. His small eyes darted around, and his two short hands furtively began to condense the familiar pink glow.
He planned to use his old trick again.
However, as soon as the pink light brightened, there was a whooshing sound!
"Ow!" Accompanied by a short yelp, Azazel transformed into a perfect parabola, and with a "thud," he plunged headfirst into the ashes of the fireplace, leaving only his two short legs flailing outside.
Everyone: "…"
Nios casually retracted his leg, as if he had merely brushed dust from his robes.
He naturally took Hermione's still-dazed hand, led her to the round table, and softly said, "Come, make a wish."
Hermione sniffled, wiped away her tears, clasped her hands together, and devoutly closed her eyes.
The candlelight danced on her tear-stained eyelashes. 'I hope… every day in the future can be like today, surrounded by warmth and companionship.'
She silently made her wish in her heart, then puffed out her cheeks and blew out all the candles in one breath.
"Yay!" Everyone cheered.
Next was the gift-giving segment.
Harry gave her a self-writing quill: "This way you can save some effort when taking notes."
Ron handed over a packet of Ice Mice: "Fred and George recommended them; they say they're delicious!"
Neville shyly presented a set of exquisite bookmarks, adorned with the crests of the four houses: "I hope you like them."
Draco, meanwhile, gave her a pair of elegantly styled alchemical spectacles: "Wear these when you read; they'll relieve eye strain."
Hermione looked at the items in her hands, her eyes wide with surprise: "These… Where did you get them?"
Ron pouted, speaking first: "George and Fred know a secret passage to Hogsmeade! We asked them to buy them."
He turned to the other three, with a "you're so silly" expression, "They were going anyway, and you actually paid a running fee? That was a whole Sickle!"
The three exchanged an awkward glance, tacitly agreeing not to mention that they had actually only given the twins five Knuts each…
Finally, everyone's gaze fell on Nios.
Nios no longer delayed, taking an item from his robes.
When it was fully revealed in the light, Hermione couldn't help but cover her mouth.
It was an exquisitely delicate statue, meticulously carved from various crystals.
It vividly depicted a scene: a young Hermione sitting quietly at a table, intently opening a thick, large book.
The crystal's luster shimmered in the candlelight, as if freezing the most beautiful moment in time.