Starting at Hogwarts, Logging into Elden Ring

Time flew by, and soon it was the last day of October.

Over the past few weeks, Arthur had thoroughly explored Liurnia of the Lakes.

He slew the Glintstone Dragon guarding the Glintstone Key and entered the Academy of Raya Lucaria.

Even Radagon’s Red Wolf had fallen before him—unexpectedly granting him an achievement upon its death.

Now, his dilemma was whether to venture up to the Raya Lucaria Grand Library.

That was where the "Full Moon Queen," Rennala, lay in slumber.

She was none other than Ranni’s mother—his would-be mother-in-law.

Ever since Radagon abandoned her, Rennala had spent her days cradling the unhatched amber egg, lost in her sorrow.

Ranni had even placed an enchantment on the egg:

If anyone disturbed her mother’s slumber, Rennala’s battle-consciousness would awaken.

In other words—if Arthur went up there, he’d have to fight his mother-in-law.

Though given his strength, it wasn’t clear who would end up beating whom.

But if he didn’t, then Rennala’s Great Rune of the Unborn would remain out of reach.

In the end, Arthur decided to clear Caria Manor first and ask Ranni’s opinion later.

Meanwhile, in the real world, Arthur had recently given Hermione several alchemical tools.

Among them was a protective necklace with an auto-trigger defense and a locator enchantment.

He’d also handed her over a dozen second-generation magic grenades.

Thanks to his improvements, each grenade was no bigger than a pigeon’s egg, and once thrown, they would cling to an enemy before detonating.

Perfect for travel—or murder and plunder.

He hadn’t forgotten the Halloween feast incident with the troll.

In the original story, Ron had upset Hermione, who then hid in the bathroom crying and ended up in danger.

But under Arthur’s tutelage, Ron was now facing a fully upgraded Hermione.

With her vast knowledge of spells, none of the lower-year students could best her in a duel.

And even if they did—well, congratulations, they’d have to deal with Arthur, who wielded Lands Between magic and was fiercely protective of her.

Still, Arthur worried. What if "plot inertia," "world correction," or simply "fate" pushed things back toward the original story?

So, he gave Hermione a whole arsenal of alchemy tools.

She simply thought her cousin was worried for her safety and happily accepted them.

That evening, the Great Hall had been decked out for Halloween.

Floating jack-o’-lanterns glowed above, flocks of bats swooped across the rafters, and the school ghosts drifted lazily between the tables.

Students feasted merrily on an even more lavish spread than usual.

During the meal, the Weasley twins brought their newest products to Arthur.

With his backing, many items that wouldn’t exist until years later were already on the market.

Things like "Quick-Escape Nosebleed Nougat" or "Auto-Ink Quills."

Unfortunately, the nougat had been banned—too many students abused it to skip class.

The auto-ink quill never sold well either, since the ink output was too messy to be practical.

But one product had become a hit: Ten-Second Pimple-B-Gone.

The name said it all, and for acne-prone young wizards, it was a blessing.

Even Hermione had bought two bottles.

Now, the twins offered Arthur a toffee.

"Boss, want to try our latest product?" George said, offering no explanation of its effects.

Arthur swept it with his mental power and immediately understood.

"You want to prank me?"

He unwrapped one, flicked it with a finger, and neatly popped it into George’s mouth while he wasn’t looking.

George gulped it down—only for his tongue to swell grotesquely, stretching over a meter long.

It was none other than the infamous Ton-Tongue Toffee.

"Hahahaha! George, I told you, you can’t trick the boss!" Fred howled with laughter.

Not to be outdone, George snatched another piece and shoved it into Fred’s mouth mid-laugh.

+1 long tongue.

Watching his brothers, Ron burst into laughter.

The twins exchanged a glance.

One grabbed Ron, the other shoved a toffee down his throat.

+2 long tongues.

In the commotion, they accidentally knocked over a jug of juice, splashing it across Hermione’s robes.

"Oops! Sorry!" the three choruses.

"It’s fine, I’ll just go wash it," Hermione said, rising from the table.

Arthur, watching from the side, frowned.

Wait. They’re wizards. A little spill like that—one "Scourgify" and it’s done.

Hermione had definitely mastered that charm within two months of school.

So why did she forget?

Was it some force—plot correction? Narrative inertia? Fate—pulling things back to the original?

If so, he’d have to tread carefully. Twisting the story too far might trigger some kind of world reset.

A crash like that was not an option.

As he brooded, the Great Hall doors burst open.

Professor Quirrell stumbled in, gasping in terror, rushing to Dumbledore’s side.

"Troll... in the dungeons... thought you ought to know..."

Then he collapsed in a faint.

Arthur frowned. What did he mean by "thought you ought to know"?

That Dumbledore already knew about the troll?

Wasn’t the troll supposed to be one of the Philosopher’s Stone’s guards?

"Prefects, lead your houses back to their dormitories!" Dumbledore’s voice boomed through the hall.

"Gryffindor, this way!" Percy called, leading the students out.

Harry and Ron hurried to Arthur.

"Arthur, Hermione’s not here," Harry said anxiously.

"I know. Don’t worry, I’ll find her. You two get back to the dorm."

He left them, cast a Disillusionment Charm, and followed the locator mark he’d placed on Hermione.

At the second-floor girls’ bathroom, Arthur chose not to reveal himself immediately.

By now, Hermione knew plenty of spells—but she still had zero combat experience.

Arthur wanted to test how she’d handle real danger.

He didn’t want to raise a pretty but useless flower vase.

Of course, "danger" was relative.

The protective necklace he’d given her bore an overpowered, all-encompassing Shield Charm.

The troll could pound at it for half an hour and still not break through.

So, he could safely watch from the shadows.

Inside, Hermione had just finished scrubbing her robes when it struck her: I’m a witch.

"Damn it, how did I forget ’Scourgify’? Wasted my dinner time with Arthur for nothing."

She muttered as she drew her wand.

"Scourgify!"

Her robes were instantly clean.

Sniffing them, she nodded in satisfaction—until she wrinkled her nose.

"Wait... what’s that smell?"

Turning, she saw the hulking troll blocking the doorway.

It was nearly as tall as the frame itself, green-skinned, hideous, clutching a massive wooden club, and caked in filth.

"Ahhh!!!" Hermione shrieked.

The pitch nearly burst Arthur’s eardrums outside.

"Good grief, is that just a natural ability of women?" he muttered, rubbing his ears.

The troll clearly didn’t like it either.

It roared and swung its club down at her.

At the critical moment, Hermione instinctively dodged to the side.

In her mind flashed the very first spell Arthur had taught her.

"Glintstone Pebble!"

Her wand flicked, and a strand of starlight shot out—thicker than an adult’s arm.

It struck the troll right in the eye.

Had its brain not been so tiny, the spell might have pierced straight through.

Howling in pain, the troll staggered back, clutching its face and bellowing in rage.

It wanted nothing more than to devour the little thing that dared hurt it!

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