Neville, the Boy Who Survived Many Disasters

Ryan shook himself out of it and, without anyone noticing, returned to his original way of thinking.

Although Ryan had been thinking about other things, he had also been following Kate around the castle. Switching between memories and modes of thought had caused no disruption or difference whatsoever.

At this point, Ryan's group arrived on the fourth floor. It was like entering another world entirely. The whole floor seemed to have been permanently imbued with the Undetectable Extension Charm, and its style clashed greatly with that of the rest of the castle.

According to the plan, this was a place tourists would only visit the next day. The designer must have known the Muggle world well—the entire floor was filled with all kinds of seemingly natural climbable rock walls.

At first glance, they were all towering cliffs that reached into the clouds. The tallest were roughly a hundred meters high, and the only way to reach the fifth floor was by climbing them.

Unlike in the Muggle world, there were no safety ropes. However, the ground itself was the best, most irreplaceable "safety rope." They could climb as boldly as they wished. Even if they fell, they would not be injured, because protective charms had been cast on the ground.

"Mr. Ryan, Miss Kate, if you're in a hurry to reach the fifth floor, there's a two-meter-high rock wall by the corner on your left. The handholds are quite easy too," Salvatore promptly explained.

Kate had no particular expectations about seeing dragons. Instead, she rather liked this fourth floor, which was not quite what it should have been.

Seeing that Kate was interested, Salvatore clapped his hands. A bar suddenly appeared out of thin air in the middle of the floor, laden with all kinds of drinks. Other than tea and water, everything came at an extra charge.

They accepted both Galleons and Muggle currency. Ryan secretly rolled his eyes.

At the same time, Salvatore tactfully headed down to the third floor to rest in his coffin, leaving Ryan and Kate alone together.

Before leaving, he emphasized once again that they only needed to place their money on the bar. Drinks matching the amount would automatically glow; they could simply take them, and any change would be returned.

Ryan strongly suspected the fellow received a commission.

Ryan had never tried rock climbing in his previous life. Natural climbing was dangerous, while artificial climbing cost money.

As a student, Ryan had neither the chance nor the energy to play this game. But now, the opportunity had come.

With the third wheel gone, Ryan still kept his physique at the level of an ordinary human. That made it more fun.

"Woohoo!" Kate cried joyfully as she climbed around ten meters up a rock wall, then performed a backflip and leaped straight down.

It seemed this floor was not just for rock climbing. Jumping down from high places was apparently part of the entertainment as well. Now Ryan understood why the bar had been built in the middle—so no one would land on it when jumping down.

Monkey Kate had been born. All afternoon, cries of "Woohoo!" rose and fell without pause. Ten meters, twenty meters, even the tallest hundred-meter cliffs—Kate climbed and jumped like an agile monkey.

Unable to restrain his curiosity, Ryan began climbing as well.

On the steep rock face, Ryan constantly shifted his movements. He was currently challenging the hundred-meter cliff on the right. Looking down, Kate, who had grown tired from playing and was drinking water, looked like nothing more than a black dot to the naked eye.

After climbing nearly another ten meters, Ryan could no longer see the ground below. All around him were pure white clouds, and when he touched them, they felt moist.

Ryan found it a little boring. Having long since escaped the pull of gravity, he did not find such scenery particularly rare. Though these clouds had been made with magic, people could not stand on them, just like ordinary clouds.

Ryan continued upward and finally reached the summit. Above his head, a door slowly emerged from the air. He pushed it open from below, and it led to the fifth floor—the final floor.

Ryan closed the wooden door, released his grip, and fell backward in a flat, sprawled position.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. The wind howled past his ears. After passing through the clouds and falling for roughly five seconds, a strange sensation, as though he had fallen into a mud pit, spread across his back. It was as if he had been lying on the ground from the start, and the jump from the sky had merely been an illusion.

If Neville jumped from here, would he awaken his magical abilities early and avoid being regarded as a Squib by his family?

That interesting thought suddenly appeared in Ryan's mind.

His Uncle Algie had done things like that to him many times. For example, he had pushed Neville off the Black Lake Docks and nearly drowned him.

Neville had not stopped being considered a Squib by his family until he was eight. That would probably be in a few more months. It was July now, and Neville's birthday was July 30, one day before Harry's and mine.

In fact, shortly after Neville was born, he had already been able to use magic to wrap himself more tightly in a blanket. However, no one saw the unusual displays of magic and talent from young Neville, and the midwife merely assumed Neville's father had done it.

On top of that, Neville's parents had been tortured into insanity by four Death Eaters using the Cruciatus Curse. Neville grew up under the harsh rebukes of his grandmother, Madam Longbottom, who had demanded from his childhood that the poor grandson be proud of his crazed parents. He had to believe that they had "sacrificed their health and sanity, not so their only son could be ashamed of them."

Neville was even more insecure than Harry. His grandmother had repeatedly told him to his face that he was "a good boy, but without his father's talent."

Neville could also be considered a boy who survived great disasters—except the danger came from his own family.

When Neville was eight, Uncle Algie came over for tea one time. He even dangled Neville upside down by the ankles from an upstairs window. Then, when he reached out to take a meringue cake Aunt Enid had handed him, he slipped and failed to keep hold.

Then Neville bounced on his own—flying across the entire garden before falling onto the road.

It was truly absurd. Still, it showed how much so-called pure-bloods valued magic. Physical injuries were easy to heal for wizards, after all, and that was likely one reason Quidditch was such a mad sport.

However, after Neville turned eight, the threats to his life came to an end as well.

Sighing, Ryan walked over to the bar. Kate's little face was still flushed with excitement. She took a cup of Black Tea, and they began chatting again.

"Kate, when did you discover that you had magical talent?" Ryan asked curiously.

"Hmm... I think I was five. I shaved my dad's beard right in front of him, and he didn't notice," Kate said, frowning as she thought.

"How do you know he wasn't just not paying attention?"

"Hmph, hmph, it was right in front of him! I did it openly while he was eating!" Kate emphasized, her little face turning red.

It seemed to be something Kate took great pride in. A natural assassin indeed. And with how well she understood hunting vampires, could her family be one that specialized in hunting vampires?

"Kate, what did your ancestors do? Were they Vampire Hunters?" Ryan asked curiously.

"What Vampire Hunters? That's something only half-vampires do, though it is pretty cool!"

"Our family are wizards! Why do we have to do anything in particular? A wizard can live perfectly well on their own!" Kate asked in confusion.

Ryan could not help feeling a little embarrassed. Wizards were different from Muggles. They did not necessarily have to work to make a living; magic could take care of food, clothing, housing, and transportation. No wonder the Ministry of Magic had never had much of a presence.

A wizarding family with a stable profession was already considered remarkable in the magical world, such as Ollivander.

Time flew by, and before they knew it, it was time for dinner.