𝘋𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚 𝘛𝘐𝘌𝘋/𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 (English version)

Chapter 61

The Room of Requirement had transformed into something completely new. It was no longer just a hiding place, a place to gather and organize the resistance: it had become a home.

The stone walls, once cold and bare, were now lit by the warm glow of flickering torches.
The floor was scattered with blankets, sleeping bags, and makeshift beds. Some students had managed to retrieve pillows and personal items from their dormitories, while others made do with a simple cloak laid out on the ground. The air was filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and hot broth that Aberforth brought them through the secret passage, a luxury few could afford in the dark days of Hogwarts.

Sarah ran a hand through her hair, observing the group around her. There were more of them than she had expected.
Day by day, their numbers grew, as if the refuge itself were calling them, offering not only protection, but also a semblance of normalcy.

Neville was sitting next to Ginny and Luna, carefully dividing the food portions to make sure even the youngest got their share. Dean and Seamus spoke quietly with some of the younger students, trying to reassure them. Even Pansy Parkinson, although still distant from the group, had admitted to herself that this was the safest place to be.

And yet, Sarah knew it wouldn't be easy. The tension was still thick in the air; fear wasn't erased by a little food and a few extra blankets.

She stood up, and within seconds, all eyes were on her.
"We need to set some rules," she began, her voice steady. "From today, this isn't just a secret room. It's a refuge. If you choose to stay here, you must respect the people living in it. We can't afford division."

A murmur ran through the group. Some nodded in agreement, others exchanged doubtful glances.
It was inevitable, many of them, just a few weeks before, had belonged to different houses and groups, with deep rivalries and long-standing misunderstandings.
Now they were forced to put everything aside, to trust one another with no guarantees.

Neville was the one to speak up.
"We have to be a team. We'll protect each other, but we can't risk being discovered. No one must know about this place, not even by accident."

"And what if someone betrays us?"
The voice came from the back of the room.
It was Zacharias Smith. He stood with his arms crossed, his expression full of skepticism and fear. His tone wasn't accusatory, but it wasn't without suspicion either.
"What if one of us decides to sell us out to the Carrows?"

No one answered. It was a question no one wanted to ask, but everyone had thought of.
Sarah crossed her arms, letting her gaze rest on every face in the room. She knew them all, one by one. She knew what they had risked to get there, knew that most of them would never betray the refuge that protected them. But she couldn't deny that the danger existed.
"Then let's hope we're not wrong in trusting the people next to us," she said, her voice cold and sharp, echoing through the Room of Requirement.
"If you're not ready to take that risk, you're free to leave."

Neville nodded, and beside him, Ginny stood up.
"We're all here for the same reason," she said, locking eyes with Zacharias. "We want to resist. We want to fight. If we start doubting each other, we've already lost."
Zacharias hesitated, but said nothing. He looked away, lowering his chin slightly.

Then, with perfect timing, the secret passage creaked open, and Aberforth emerged from the shadows with a sack full of supplies.
"Are you done with your motivational speeches?" he grumbled in his usual gruff tone. "Because there's food to be eaten."
A wave of laughter rippled through the room, breaking the tension.
For a moment, it almost felt like the war was far away, like Hogwarts had become the safe haven it once was.

Sarah relaxed, almost imperceptibly, exchanging a glance with Neville before moving toward Aberforth to help distribute the food.
The smell of warm bread and simple but hearty soup spread through the air, and the students' shoulders seemed to lift, as if freed from an invisible burden. Eating had become a luxury, a moment of respite in the chaos. Every bite felt like a small victory.
"Don't get too used to it, brats," Aberforth muttered as he poured broth into a chipped bowl. "I don't plan on spoiling you."