Starting at Hogwarts, Logging into Elden Ring

In the Hogwarts kitchens, everyone was enjoying the house-elves’ cooking.

Even Hermione had climbed down from Arthur’s arms, reverted to her human form, and sat beside him, carefully taking small bites of grilled food.

Harry washed down a mouthful of meat with butterbeer, then suddenly frowned.

"Don’t you feel like we forgot something?"

Arthur thought for a moment.

"Did we? It’s late at night—what could we possibly have forgotten?"

"I don’t know... I just feel like something’s missing."

Harry tried hard to recall what it was.

"You’re overthinking it," Arthur interrupted. "If you don’t eat faster, Draco’s going to finish everything."

Hearing that, Harry immediately abandoned his train of thought and rejoined the skewer battle.

Meanwhile, back in the Room of Requirement, Ron was still hanging upside down.

That was what Harry had forgotten.

With his already weak presence, Ron had been completely left behind in the Room of Requirement.

In fact, when everyone was leaving, Ron had been waving his arms frantically, trying to get their attention. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to shout—his mouth was still sealed by Hermione’s spell.

Unfortunately, no one noticed. Laughing and chatting, they all left together, leaving Ron dangling alone in midair.

Arthur, of course, knew perfectly well what was going on.

But who told Ron to badmouth Hermione?

As her cousin, Arthur considered it generous enough that he hadn’t kicked Ron while he was down. Leaving him hanging was a perfectly reasonable lesson—to teach him to watch his mouth in the future.

That was why Arthur had deliberately cut off Harry’s line of thought earlier, preventing him from remembering Ron.

Later, Harry did recall it—but he didn’t dare go back to free Ron.

Who knew if Hermione would hang him up next if she caught him helping Ron?

With a firm "better you than me" mentality, Harry went back to his dorm after eating his fill and slept soundly.

Ron, on the other hand, had the rare experience of sleeping while upside down.

Yes—this thick-skinned fellow actually fell asleep despite hanging there, and slept quite well at that. The only issue was that waking up like that was... somewhat terrifying.

Hermione’s spell lasted until the next morning. The moment it wore off, Ron dropped straight down from the air.

Fortunately, he woke up quickly enough to twist his body midair and land on his back. Otherwise, he would have hit the ground headfirst and probably gone straight to the hospital wing.

Afterward, Ron found Harry and complained bitterly, accusing him of being a terrible friend for not rescuing him. However, he didn’t dare say another bad word about Hermione.

In the days leading up to the holidays, Ron went out of his way to avoid Hermione. Hermione, for her part, didn’t bother with him either—out of sight, out of mind.

A week passed in the blink of an eye.

Summer vacation finally arrived, the moment every young wizard loved most. Students packed their luggage and boarded the train home.

Arthur had grown used to the liveliness of his compartment. Among Ranni, Hermione, Luna, and Penelope, only Ranni was relatively quiet. The other three chatted nonstop, clearly having a great time.

Arthur didn’t join in the girls’ conversation. Instead, he closed his eyes and rested.

He had other plans for tonight.

That night, Arthur opened the window of his room, preparing to jump out—only to look up and see Hermione’s Animagus form sitting neatly on the windowsill.

"Hermione? What are you doing here?" Arthur asked.

In her cat form, Hermione shrugged.

"Obviously, I noticed someone was sneaking out without me, so I decided to come along on my own."

"How did you know I had plans tonight?"

"Intuition!"

Arthur was speechless.

You’re just in a cat form, not an actual cat—since when did your intuition get this sharp? And wasn’t relying on intuition more Luna’s thing?

You’re supposed to be the witch who believes in facts and logic—when did you start copying Luna’s style?

"Don’t mess around," Arthur said helplessly. "You saw that even Ranni isn’t coming with me, right?"

"Hmph! I don’t care, I’m going!" Hermione said stubbornly.

She certainly wasn’t about to tell him that it was precisely because Ranni wasn’t going that she wanted to go even more.

Such a perfect chance to be alone with her cousin—how could she miss it?

Arthur’s hesitation wasn’t because the next stop was dangerous; it was just... a bit shady. He didn’t want to set a bad example for her.

But thinking it over, this little witch wasn’t exactly well-behaved either. Since Hermione insisted, bringing her along wouldn’t hurt.

"Fine," Arthur sighed. "But you have to listen to me and not run around."

"Mm-hmm!"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, leaped forward, and dove straight into Arthur’s arms.

A rare chance to be alone with her cousin—why would she run off anywhere else? Was there anywhere more comfortable than his arms?

Nestled against him, Hermione closed her eyes contentedly.

Seeing her relaxed posture, Arthur casually scratched her under the chin and shook his head with a smile.

Ever since becoming an Animagus, her cat-like traits had become more pronounced. Compared to before, she’d grown a bit tsundere and occasionally acted spoiled around him.

Arthur didn’t mind at all.

Arthur carried Hermione to an old, rundown street.

Several dilapidated buildings, a noisy bar, and a wall covered in graffiti filled the area.

One look told you this was a lawless zone—exactly the kind of place thugs loved to lurk, waiting for unlucky passersby.

To them, Arthur—holding a ragdoll cat—looked like the perfect target.

Five street toughs surrounded him, three in front and two behind.

The leader grinned.

"Hey kid, how about lending your big brothers some pocket money?"

Arthur hated trouble and didn’t bother responding. He simply released a hint of his godhood aura, knocking all five unconscious on the spot.

Only then did Hermione finally voice her curiosity.

"Cousin, why did we come to a place like this?"

The environment was awful, filled with a sour stench that her feline nose found unbearable.

"We’re here to see where you’ll be working in the future," Arthur replied. "Didn’t you want to become Minister for Magic? We’re here to tour the Ministry."

"The Ministry of Magic is in a dump like this?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"More accurately, it’s underground," Arthur said, pointing ahead. "See that red phone booth? Dial 62442, state your business, and it’ll take you down to the Ministry like an elevator."

Hermione nodded in understanding. That sounded acceptable—as long as she wasn’t actually working here.

Then Arthur delivered the finishing blow.

"Of course, that’s just the visitor entrance. I hear employees flush themselves down via the toilets in that public restroom."

Hermione: "???"

What kind of deranged wizard came up with that idea? Couldn’t they just install a proper elevator?

She already knew Arthur’s idea of "touring" wouldn’t involve the official route. Which meant... they’d probably be using the employee entrance.

"I absolutely refuse to enter through that," Hermione said firmly.

"Relax, we won’t," Arthur reassured her.

"Then how are we getting in?"

Arthur looked at the person who had just appeared in front of him and smiled.

"Isn’t the one here to pick us up already here?"

The godhood aura Arthur had released earlier wasn’t meant for the thugs—it was to draw out the Ministry.

Sure enough, not long after, someone from the Ministry Apparated to the surface to investigate.

Arthur examined the man: greasy hair, pockmarked face, tall and thin, with an exhausted, irritable expression. He didn’t look like a pleasant person.

The man scanned the scene—a teenage boy holding a cat, five unconscious thugs on the ground.

None of it matched what he was looking for. He was here for the source of that terrifying pressure—but he had no idea it was standing right in front of him.

"Hey, kid," the man said impatiently. "Did you see what happened here just now?"

"You mean them?" Arthur gestured to the thugs. "They tried to rob me, so I knocked them out."

"Don’t joke around," the man snapped. "With your scrawny body and a cat, you beat them? Stop lying. Did someone else pass through here just now?"

"Sir, there really was no one else," Arthur said helplessly.

The man clearly didn’t believe him. Convinced Arthur was lying, he turned to search the surrounding area.

Arthur sighed. Communication had clearly failed.

He raised his hand and casually cast the Imperius Curse.

The man noticed the movement—but Arthur hadn’t spoken an incantation or used a wand, so he had no guard up at all.

He was hit instantly.

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