Amid the roaring in his head, Ron felt as though he had returned to several months ago, to the foolish version of himself reflected in those fragmented memories.
In the scene, he flicked a little dragon on the head with a finger. Faced with its fury, he and Harry had laughed and joked happily.
Beside them came Vaughn's words of warning:
"...Dragons hold grudges..."
And Malfoy's annoying warning, which now sounded so sincere:
"If I were you, I definitely wouldn't try to provoke a monster like that..."
How had they answered back then?
"It's being sent away anyway. If it's got the guts, let it come back to Hogwarts and get revenge on us!"
As Ron's consciousness was gradually swallowed by blankness, he suddenly wished time could turn back, or that he could crawl into his memories and grab himself and Harry from a few months ago and beat them senseless!
Two idiots!
At the very end of his consciousness, Ron heard Norberta let out a loud "caw caw caw," a cry brimming with the sheer delight of an old grudge about to be avenged...
The forest in the world within the painting resembled the Forbidden Forest.
Towering trees, deep shade, and the moisture exhaled by the dense vegetation were so thick they resembled morning mist before rain, heavily draping over their bodies. In no time at all, their clothes had become half-soaked.
Of course, there were also differences.
For instance, the mist in this forest never dispersed. No matter how fierce the sun overhead became as time passed, it seemed unable to evaporate the moisture between the trees, much less send it into atmospheric circulation to take part in the natural cycle.
This place was, after all, merely a "painting," subject to its creator's will. The creator liked