Starting at Hogwarts, Logging into Elden Ring

After learning that Arthur already had a plan in motion, Snape decided not to interfere further.

Instead, he remembered something Arthur had mentioned to him some time ago—about converting Muggles into wizards.

He had actually been fully prepared for it back then, but last winter in Britain had been nothing but endless snowstorms. Clear skies were rare, and stars even rarer.

So the matter had been delayed.

Now, however, it was spring. The weather was pleasant, and the night sky outside was brilliant with stars.

Snape asked, "About the matter of converting a soul into a source crystal—I’ve finished the preparations. What do you think of tonight’s weather? Can the ritual be performed?"

Arthur walked over to the window and glanced up at the sky. Countless stars hung overhead, forming a luminous river across the heavens.

He withdrew his gaze and nodded. "It’ll work. Do you want to bring Lia along?"

Snape hesitated. "Won’t that take extra time?"

He had already discussed this with Lia. Worried about his safety, she’d insisted on being present during the ritual.

At the time, Snape had been concerned something might go wrong and hadn’t agreed outright.

Arthur nodded casually. "That’s fine. In the end, it’s just taking a stab. If everything goes smoothly, we can even convert Lia as well."

Snape was speechless.

Yes, it was technically "just a stab"—but the problem was that the stab went straight through the heart!

Don’t make it sound like lightly nicking a finger with a small knife!

Snape desperately wanted to complain, but that would go against his carefully cultivated persona.

"...Fine," he said stiffly. "I’ll go get her." 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"I’ll be waiting on the open balcony on the west side of the castle," Arthur replied.

Snape nodded and headed outside.

Hogwarts was warded against Apparition. He’d need to leave the grounds before he could return home that way.

Watching Snape go, Arthur turned to Huangxi on his shoulder.

"Sorry. The midnight snack might have to wait a bit."

Strangely enough, neither Harry nor Snape had asked about Huangxi’s presence earlier.

Perhaps they’d simply grown accustomed to Arthur having various extraordinary creatures perched on him.

"It’s fine," Huangxi said calmly. "Do what you need to do."

She wasn’t actually hungry. She’d only mentioned food because it had been so long since she’d tasted anything from the human world.

"In that case," Arthur said, "let’s grab Hermione and Ranni. We’ll go for a late snack together afterward."

When he returned to the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was already half-asleep where she sat.

Ranni, on the other hand, still looked energetic. Someone accustomed to staying up all night gazing at the moon wouldn’t be defeated so easily—but even she was starting to get bored.

Neither of them had expected Arthur to be gone until curfew after Harry dragged him away.

When Arthur finally walked in, Ranni stood up.

Hermione, who’d been leaning against Ranni’s shoulder in a drowsy haze, immediately lost her support and flopped onto the sofa—waking up with a start.

She scrambled upright, ready to grumble at Ranni, only to look up and see Arthur.

She hurried over. "Cousin, what did Harry want? How did it take so long?"

"It wasn’t anything major," Arthur replied. "Harry found Mr. Crouch dead in the Forbidden Forest and dragged me along to report it to Dumbledore."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "That’s the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation—and the person in charge of the Triwizard Tournament. If his death isn’t a big deal, what is?"

Arthur rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... Voldemort showing up at the front gate?"

Hermione fell silent.

Compared to that, Crouch’s death really did seem minor.

Still, she asked worriedly, "But won’t Mr. Crouch’s death affect the Triwizard Tournament?"

Arthur had told her before that Voldemort planned to use the tournament to make a move against Harry.

If the tournament were suspended because of Crouch’s death, wouldn’t that ruin Voldemort’s chance?

Arthur waved a hand dismissively. "Relax. The head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports is still around. When I was in the Headmaster’s office earlier, Fudge was there too—he insisted the tournament go on as scheduled."

Hearing that the Triwizard Tournament would continue, Hermione visibly relaxed.

That meant she’d still get her chance to face Voldemort.

As for Crouch’s death... she could only feel regret. At worst, she’d avenge him later.

...Wait. She hadn’t even asked who killed him.

"So," Hermione asked, "who murdered Mr. Crouch?"

"Barty Crouch Jr.," Arthur answered.

Hermione frowned. "Didn’t Snape say he was already caught by the Ministry?"

"Escaped again," Arthur said lightly.

Hermione’s face darkened. "Is the Ministry really that incompetent? Letting criminals escape over and over again?"

By her count, this had to be the fourth time already.

Hogwarts wasn’t much better either. In all her years at school, there hadn’t been a single peaceful one.

Either Voldemort’s followers infiltrated the castle, or students were attacked.

And now even a high-ranking Ministry official had been murdered.

Why on earth was this place still called the safest location in the wizarding world?

"The Ministry is incompetent," Arthur said, "but this time you’re misunderstanding something. The Ministry never actually recaptured Barty Crouch Jr."

He continued calmly, "Old Crouch couldn’t keep his own son under control—and ended up being killed by him."

Hermione paused. "Then Barty Crouch Jr. is...?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Hasn’t he been teaching you for half a year already?"

Hermione’s sharp mind clicked instantly.

Fourth year. Only one teacher had taught her for half a year.

The newly arrived "Mad-Eye" Moody.

She suddenly recalled the strange smell she’d noticed once when she passed him in the corridor—right after he’d taken a swig from his flask.

She’d known that scent before.

Polyjuice Potion.

She’d brewed it herself in second year.

"...I really didn’t expect it," Hermione murmured.

"No one did," Arthur replied. "His disguise and mimicry were flawless."

"Shouldn’t we expose him?" Hermione asked.

If this were Harry, he’d probably already be charging off to confront Barty Crouch Jr. head-on.

"Not yet," Arthur said. "If we expose him now, how do we lure Voldemort out?"

Hermione nodded. Alerting the enemy prematurely really wasn’t the right move.

Let Barty Crouch Jr. continue playing his role for now.

"...Oh, right," Hermione suddenly said, turning to Huangxi on Arthur’s shoulder. "Why are you out here, Huangxi?"

She knew Huangxi well. This was someone who wouldn’t leave home even once in eight hundred years.

Every time Hermione went to visit her, she was almost always asleep.

"Arthur asked me to come out and stretch a bit," Huangxi replied, "and to invite you all to a midnight snack."

"You really do need more activity," Hermione agreed wholeheartedly. "Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!"

Arthur stopped her. "Not yet. I still have something to take care of."

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

Arthur explained the function of the source crystal blade, as well as Snape and Lia’s plan to convert their souls into source crystals.

Hermione’s eyes widened in amazement. Such a magical artifact actually existed?

"Then... could my parents be converted into wizards too?" she asked.

If Mrs. Granger ever heard this, she’d be deeply moved.

For once, the daughter who could barely remember to write home was thinking of her parents first.

Arthur shrugged. "Sure—assuming you can convince Aunt and Uncle to let me stab this blade straight through their hearts."

As he spoke, he produced the source crystal blade.

It was over thirty centimeters long. Calling it a "knife" was misleading—it was double-edged, with three serrated, spike-like protrusions on each side.

Arthur had already cleaned the blood from it, making its cold gleam even more intimidating.

Hermione stared at the blade, her scalp tingling.

Setting aside whether she could bring herself to let that thing pierce her parents’ hearts—she was certain of one thing.

The moment she even suggested this to them, she’d be in for a brutal scolding.

In the Muggle world, being stabbed through the heart was unquestionably fatal.

Even in the wizarding world, it was a death sentence.

Asking two ordinary Muggles to accept such a transformation was... a bit too much.

Hermione fell into troubled silence, completely at a loss as to how she could ever persuade them.

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