First Meditation

The holiday passed quickly, though it was never long to begin with—no matter the actual duration, it always feels short when faced with the prospect of school.

In early January, Hogwarts, which had been quiet for a few days, grew boisterous once more. The students had finished their Christmas break and returned to school. The next holiday wouldn't arrive until Easter.

Ron Weasley sat bolt upright, waiting for class to begin.

The seriousness with which he now approached He Shenyan's class made Harley and Hermione feel as though he had become a different person.

He arrived twenty minutes early for every lecture and would cross-reference his notes with the blackboard after class to ensure there were no errors.

Living a rigid life between the dormitory, the dining hall, the classroom, and the library, his twin brothers complained behind his back that the family had gained another Percy. But Ron acted as if he hadn't heard a word.

Ever since he scored a 97 on his exam, he had experienced an unprecedented level of enthusiasm from his mother upon returning home.

During those few days at home, he felt as though he were being waited on hand and foot.

He used to be woken up by his mother every morning, but now he could sleep until eleven without anyone bothering him; his mother would even thoughtfully prepare hot meals for him—not leftovers, but freshly cooked, and in generous portions.

He ate so much beef that his lips actually blistered. Not to mention those Christmas gifts that were all completely unique.

Oh. So this is the beauty of studying?

Ron Weasley secretly decided that in order to maintain such special treatment, he would work even harder than before.

At least he had to be better than Fred and George—he had to stay ahead of them.

Back to the matter at hand, He Shenyan walked into the classroom at nine o'clock sharp. Not a minute early, not a second late.

He scanned the room and suddenly revealed a smile: "How was everyone's Christmas?"

After receiving a chorus of satisfied replies, he pressed his hands down to signal the students to quieten.

Then, he said: "As I mentioned before, after the Christmas break, we will begin our first meditation training. I have already taught you all the basic theoretical knowledge, and you have learned it well. Especially Mr. Ron Weasley, who took first place in the last exam. Please give him a round of applause."

Ron listened to the applause with a face flushed red, while Harley silently nudged him with her elbow. Ron couldn't hold it in anymore; he winced while rubbing his ribs, yet his face beamed with joy. Hermione, however, grew somewhat sullen.

"Of course, before we begin meditation, I must warn you all about its dangers. Because you must sink completely into your own soul to find that mysterious little palace, the process is extremely easy to get lost in. I hope you will not practice in private. We will open a new meditation training course in three days. There will be dedicated training time every Wednesday and Friday afternoon. Therefore, please do not practice on your own."

He paused, his tone deepening: "You won't die, but you will become a mindless fool, do you understand? Your body will still be alive, but your soul will be lost."

"Now, Mr. Ron Weasley, please come forward to demonstrate for us."

Ron stood up nervously and walked to the podium.

He Shenyan conjured a blanket from nowhere and placed it on the floor, having him sit cross-legged. Low laughter rippled through the students, but He Shenyan merely glanced calmly in that direction, and the laughter vanished.

He said softly to the somewhat uneasy Ron: "No need to be nervous, Mr. Weasley. Now, please follow my instructions. This process is quite interesting; just relax, alright?"

Ron nodded.

He Shenyan took a potion from the podium and opened it, releasing a delicate fragrance.

Ron felt a shiver in his heart; he knew this was a potion to aid in calming the mind. He quickly closed his eyes as taught in theory, and He Shenyan's voice seemed to come from the moon: "Imagine the place where you feel most at peace, it can be anywhere."

In Ron's mind, his room appeared, with his favorite Seeker posters plastered on the walls and behind the door, some already worn and tattered.

The wardrobe was yellow and always creaked. The floor, though old, was very shiny. His bed was cushioned by a rug.

Ron opened his eyes and found himself actually inside his room at home; everything was real and believable, yet filled with a sense of ethereal illusion. He felt his body growing lighter and lighter, even beginning to float, his head brushing against the ceiling.

"Do not indulge! Mr. Weasley! You are here to seek truth, not to wallow in a comfortable and safe corner!"

Ron opened his eyes, and his floating body plummeted. He smashed through the floor, falling through the broken wooden planks and straight into an endless darkness. His consciousness flickered between Lucidity and slumber, with all sorts of blurred images flashing past.

One moment he felt as if he were inside the sun, his tongue scorched with blisters. The next, he felt as if he were in the ocean, nearly drowning, with massive creatures swimming past him. Until He Shenyan's voice appeared again: "Wake up!"

His head, which had been drooping, snapped back up. He felt as if he had just been pulled from the water; he was soaked through.

Dripping red hair hung over his forehead, and Hermione and Harley looked at him with concern. A finger appeared before his eyes, waving, and he heard the professor ask with care: "How many is this?"

"One." He was still somewhat dazed.

Four fingers were held up again: "How many is this?"

".Five?"

"Not bad, you didn't suffer any major issues."

He Shenyan laughed.

He pulled Ron up from the mat and asked: "How do you feel? Don't be afraid to describe the problems; everyone's meditation experience is different. Although you failed this time, you only need to state what you felt."

"Uh... I was in my room first, then I started floating. When your voice appeared, Professor, I started falling. I smashed the floor, but below it was a void of darkness. I kept falling inside, and I saw some very strange things..."

As he spoke, Ron's complexion gradually turned rosy. He even asked impatiently: "Can I try again, Professor?"

"Certainly not. What are you thinking, Mr. Weasley? There are so many people waiting here. Return to your seat, get some good rest after class today, and eat some sweets to replenish your energy."

He Shenyan told him this, and Ron obediently returned to his seat. He sat there with a dazed expression, his mind still replaying those wild scenes, not even hearing the low inquiries from Hermione and Harley.

He Shenyan continued, calling out: "Mr. Neville Longbottom, please come forward."

Neville walked to the podium, his face pale. He Shenyan had him sit cross-legged as well, and the fragrance of the potion allowed him to gradually relax. He Shenyan said again: "Mr. Longbottom, please close your eyes and relax, alright?"

Neville did as he was told. His consciousness gradually sank, sank, and sank, all the way down to his home. The home where his father and mother were still in a state of Lucidity.

Neville let out a scream and fainted.

He Shenyan frowned. He dismissed the class, then carried Neville and hurried out the door, leaving the first-year young wizards whispering amongst themselves.