A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

"You're the stupid one!" Ron muttered under his breath, turning to look at the empty window. He then looked down the corridor and could barely make out a silver-gray shadow disappearing around the corner in the darkness.

Ron felt a pang of panic. The half-empty bottle of medicine he was carrying kept shaking, and sweat immediately broke out on his brow.

"What should I do?" he groaned, secretly regretting that he should have brought Harry's Invisibility Cloak tonight, so he could have pretended to be a ghost and scared Malfoy, or the Marauder's Map would have been fine too, but both of those things were under Harry's trunk.

It's too late to say anything now.

"What else can we do!" Draco glared at Ron and said coldly, "Of course, run! Wait to get caught? I'm warning you, if you get caught, don't give me away—"

“You can go now!” Ron said.

"what?"

“Go away,” Ron repeated in a low voice, waving his hand at Draco with the same annoyance he had just shown when he dismissed Mrs. Lorris, his other hand clutching the bottle tightly in his arms. “Hurry up, what are you waiting for!”

Draco had already taken a few steps when he stopped and looked at him with a surprised expression. His gray eyes darted around, and a strange thought popped into his head.

“You want to stay,” he glanced at the door of classroom number seven behind them, then turned back, seemingly weighing something in his mind, before slowly saying, “If you want to stay and hide in classroom number seven, that old idiot Filch won’t be able to open the door.”

“You’re overthinking it. I’m leaving now,” Ron said, but he didn’t move an inch.

Draco sneered, took a few steps over, and leaned against the windowsill where Mrs. Lorris had just been standing. He said slowly, "How about we just wait here until Filch comes?"

Ron glared at him, exasperated.

“What are you looking at, Weasley? Do you want me to cast a curse on you?” Draco said.

“You wouldn’t dare, Malfoy,” Ron said, glancing nervously down the dark, quiet corridor. He knew Filch would be there in three minutes at most, perhaps already awakened and panting as he came running with a kerosene lamp, his face contorted in rage.

How much time has passed? Ten seconds, or thirty seconds?

He must make a decision—

“Damn weasel!” he yelled, turning and striding toward the door of classroom number seven. Draco behind him chuckled smugly, drawing out his words in a commanding tone: “Hurry up, Weasley! You don’t think you’re in Potions class, do you?”

Ron was trembling with rage, wanting to throw a curse at Malfoy's face without hesitation, but he restrained himself, waving his wand in the air, trying to draw a spell. But he couldn't concentrate at all, failing twice in a row.

After waiting a while, Draco couldn't sit still any longer and came over to urge him, "What trick are you playing? Are you waiting for Filch or the professor on night patrol to wipe us all out?"

"Leave me alone, you're disrupting my train of thought!" Ron said, frowning. He had failed to draw it again, and half of the rune flickered and disappeared.

Draco stood impatiently to one side, glancing around every now and then and listening intently.

About two minutes later, the sound of climbing stairs came from afar, and someone spoke in a trembling voice, "Are we almost there, my dear? They didn't have time to escape, I promise you—"

Draco's expression turned to terror, and he involuntarily took two steps back, hiding himself in the shadows. The sound grew closer. He glanced down the corridor, then at Ron, who was intently sketching runes, and considered whether he should slip away alone—

“Wes—”

"It's done!" Ron shouted excitedly, branding a gleaming rune onto the door. The door opened silently, revealing a sliver of light streaming in. He turned, his face contorted with rage, and said, "Malfoy, if you ever speak to me in a commanding tone again, I'll—"

Draco kicked Ron in the backside, sending him shoving into the doorway, then squeezed in himself and quickly closed the door behind him.

The bright light in classroom number seven made him a little dizzy for a moment. He pressed his ear against the cold door, trying hard to hear any sounds outside. He didn't know if it was due to some kind of spell, but he couldn't hear a sound at all.

On the other side, Ron carefully placed the potion in his arms on the ground and pounced on Draco.

"Damn Malfoy! He actually kicked me! I've been putting up with you for so long!"

Draco turned around contemptuously, only to be punched squarely in the face. "Are you crazy?!" he yelled, raising his wand, but Ron had already anticipated it, slamming him to the ground, sending Draco reeling. Ron seized the opportunity to deliver two more punches to his hateful face, and Draco cried out in pain, kicking Ron away.

"This is Malfoy's way of getting back at us!" he said viciously.

Ron charged again, head down, and the two began to wrestle. Both wands fell from their hands.

Soon, Ron, using his size advantage, had the upper hand, his arms wrapped around Draco's neck. Their faces were equally red, except Draco was holding his breath. Ron roared, "Malfoy, let me tell you, I have a temper too!"

Draco rolled his eyes and struggled desperately: "I didn't mean to... it's Filch who's here..."

"Filch?" Ron was taken aback, and the strength in his hands unconsciously weakened. Draco took the opportunity to break free of his restraints and gasp for breath.

A few minutes later—

The two men separated, warily pointing their wands at each other, both with bruises on their faces. Ron chuckled; Malfoy's eyes were black and blue, his meticulously combed hair was a mess, and his magnificent robes were torn in several long rips, making him look utterly disheveled.

Although he looked terrible, he was in an exceptionally good mood.

"According to the club's rules, we can't create obstacles when we're working together."

"You just wait, Weasley!"

Draco glared at Ron resentfully, stepped onto the black stairs, took a few deep breaths, reached out and touched the black, suspended door, and the next second, he vanished.

Ron laughed out loud, saying in a cheerful voice, "This robe suits you very well, Malfoy."

……

Inside the black, suspended door.

Ron spat out a mouthful of green, viscous liquid, tossed the spider leg hanging from his shoulder aside, and muttered incessantly, "The seventeenth wave... I'd like to see how many more... Why are there twelve-legged spiders... I bet Professor Hyp will fail his Conservation of Magical Creatures class..."

Having survived two more spider seas, Ron was now able to accurately determine his location. He stepped on the protruding rocks, choosing the optimal route to leave before the spiders could climb up.

"I wonder if there will be chicken legs for breakfast? I don't want to drink porridge..."

He wandered aimlessly, finally making his way across the rocky beach. On a platform, a golden halo shone brightly.

Ron stared in fascination at the golden light on the platform, as if there was something within it. He couldn't resist reaching out, and the instant he touched the card, he froze, completely dumbfounded—

His vision soared infinitely high, as if he had become a ghost. First he saw the black, suspended gate, then Malfoy, and finally the entire spacious Classroom Seven. But this was not the end. He saw the crisscrossing corridors of the castle, then he passed through layer after layer of walls, rising higher and higher. Soon, the entire Hogwarts Castle became a matchbox in his eyes.

He was already in the black night sky, climbing higher and higher, surrounded by a biting wind and clouds.

Hogwarts had shrunk to the size of a fingernail, and even the Black Lake seemed tiny, as if he could drink it all in one gulp. The endless black mountains came into view, filling his field of vision.

He saw Hogsmeade village shrinking smaller and smaller, with a few scattered lights—perhaps Professor Hyp's magical lamps? Ron wondered, but they vanished instantly. He continued to rise, the world below transforming into vast expanses of color. He struggled to discern the colors: dark green for forests, deep brown for hills, and blue… for the ocean!

He actually saw the ocean! Ron stared, feeling like he was dreaming, but the dream was so vivid, he couldn't forget it. He also saw a brightly lit area, wondering if it was a Muggle city. Harry had told him that big cities like London had many lights on even at night…

Is that England?

Ron frowned, seeing a small piece of land, or rather—an island—separated by a narrow strait from the vast expanse of land. He felt something stirring within him, but he couldn't quite place it. He simply continued to rise—

For a long time, he could only see the ocean and the land.

Then, he passed through the thick clouds, fearing he would freeze to death. Suddenly, his eyes were brightened; golden rays of dawn shone on the white clouds, casting a shimmering golden glow. Was this sunrise?

For the first time, Ron examined the world beneath his feet, examining... a standard sphere predominantly blue, one half hidden in shadow, presumably nighttime, the other half brightly lit, revealing land, sea, and drifting clouds—it was daytime. He reached out, trying to grasp something, but he only moved further away.

The blue sphere shrank into a tiny dot, and more celestial bodies appeared. "The Moon, Mars, Venus, Jupiter... Merlin's beard!" Ron's mouth dropped open. He saw the complete solar system, just like the constellation models sold in Diagon Alley. He felt he would never forget their locations for the rest of his life.

Then he saw the constellations. He had never understood the names of these constellations before, thinking that names like "Canis Major" were nonsense. But he really saw a large dog in the deep space of the universe, made up of countless stars. He even saw the brightest star in Canis Major—Sirius.

The scene that followed was beyond his comprehension. He saw bright vortexes, a dense net of light spots... Then he fell, much faster than he had come. Everything he had seen before was flashing back in time: vortexes, nebulae, constellations, blue planets, land and sea. His vision kept zooming in until he crashed into the ancient castle of Hogwarts.

"what--"

Ron cried out, panting, clutching a golden card in his hand.

Chapter 365 Business Card

The next morning.

Harry woke up with a yawn, grabbed the alarm clock, and glanced at the time—11:00 AM. Startled, he jumped out of bed and fumbled for his glasses. "Ron, wake up! We have to go to Room Seven for the selections; today is the last day—"

Ron lay sprawled on the bed like a dead pig, one arm exposed, snoring loudly.

Harry pulled back Ron's blanket and looked at him in surprise. Ron was wearing a tattered, dusty robe, and his face was covered in bruises, as if he had been hung up and beaten by the Whomping Willow for half an hour.

Even when they were in the study group practicing the Binding Charm, Ron had never looked this bad.

Was the dorm burgled?

Someone broke in and beat Ron up?

Harry shook Ron awake with all his might and asked very seriously, "Did you see who it was?"

"What?" Ron opened his sleepy eyes and mumbled.

“Who hit you!” Harry shouted.

“Who else could it be, Malfoy…” Ron said with his eyes closed. Harry was furious and was about to storm into the Slytherin common room to confront Malfoy when Ron added, “He’s worse off than me. I’ll put him in a chokehold and make him beg for mercy…”

In his sleep, Ron grinned happily, mumbled a few words that no one could understand, and then fell back asleep.

Harry was taken aback, unsure of what was going on. Confused, he walked out of his dormitory, found Hermione in the common room, and told her about it.

"He wasn't dreaming about fighting Malfoy and ended up getting injured himself, was he?" Hermione said coldly.

“Hermione, this can’t be,” Harry said. “His robes are torn to shreds…”

“So he went out at night and got into a fight with someone. But I doubt he even had the guts!” Hermione stood up. “I’ll go ask the fat lady; she’ll definitely know if anyone went out at night.”

She ran off, leaving Harry sitting in the chair, feeling a little annoyed. Had Ron gone out in the middle of the night? What was he doing?

He looked at the table. On Hermione's desk was a stack of parchment. He was a little puzzled; hadn't she finished her homework? He picked it up and saw that it was a collection of experiences from those who had passed the selection process. It was more comprehensive than what he and Ron had found out, clearly showing that a lot of thought had been put into it.

A short while later, Hermione returned, looking surprised, and said, "He really went out last night. The fat lady was very impressed with him and said she wanted to put him in the opera."

"But where did Ron go?" Harry pondered. "He was with me all afternoon yesterday, and went to bed early when he got back. He didn't have time to meet Malfoy alone at all, so how could he have arranged a fight..."

“It’s also possible they went to the same place,” Hermione analyzed.

Harry nodded, to the same spot... He looked up abruptly at Hermione, who was also looking at him in shock.

"Classroom Number Seven!"

……

At noon, Harry returned to his dormitory as if nothing had happened. Ron was already up and had changed his clothes.

Seeing Harry come in, Ron said excitedly, "Harry, you won't believe it, really! I fought off seventeen waves of giant spiders, and towards the end, I wasn't scared at all. Those hairy legs, that stinky, splattering green liquid... I did it, Harry! And the magic on the cards you told me about was so cool!"

Harry looked at him strangely. "When did this happen? I remember when we came back yesterday, you said you couldn't see any hope. And I didn't mention what kind of magic the card had..."

“Uh,” Ron hesitated, then blinked, “didn’t you say?”

“I never said that. Oh, by the way,” Harry pulled out a stack of parchment, “this is some information I found; we can study it together.”

"That's wonderful!" Ron happily took it, but looking at the familiar handwriting, he became uneasy. "Oh...yes, that's wonderful..."

“Do you have anything to say?” Harry asked.

Ron hesitated for a moment, staring at the stack of parchment, and slowly took out a gold card from his pocket.

On the other side—