Theodore had found the greenhouse to be a refuge, a place where the rest of the world seemed to melt away, leaving him in the company of silent green souls. It was here, beneath a sprawling ceiling of enchanted glass and tangled vines, that he could feel his mind settle, his thoughts slowing to match the steady, patient rhythm of the plants. Each step he took seemed to make the air thicker, and warmer, infused with the earthy perfume of loamy soil, fresh leaves, and the faint, citrusy undertone of something flowering nearby.

He had arrived just before dusk, the sky outside softening from blue to a misty lavender, casting the greenhouse in a half-light that blurred the edges of things. Shelves lined with potted herbs and flowering plants stretched out in perfect rows before him, their leaves glowing faintly in the dimness as if welcoming him back. Theo ran a hand along the rim of a wooden workbench, his fingertips brushing over the grooves and scratches left by countless students who had come here before him. Somehow, knowing others had sought solace in this place felt comforting, like he was a part of something larger, rooted in traditions as old as the castle itself.

He moved to his favorite corner, a small, secluded nook where a cluster of colorful flowering herbs nestled against the glass. Overhead, thick vines curled down from a hanging planter, their green tendrils winding around each other like an embrace, as though offering shelter to anyone standing beneath. Theo reached out, gently pressing a finger against the velvety petal of a small blue bloom, marveling at how something so soft and fragile could thrive in such a cool, stone-bound place. The flowers trembled under his touch, almost as if they sensed him, and he half-expected them to whisper some soft greeting, welcoming him like an old friend.

The silence here was rich and undisturbed, broken only by the faint hum of magical enchantments that kept the plants healthy, like a lullaby playing just beneath the edge of hearing. It was relaxing.