Chapter 3174 - Ch: 1-10

Hogwarts: Are You Avada Kedavra in Front of Susanoo?

Chapter 1: A Trick of Fate

It was an ordinary evening in the 54th year of Konoha, and an eight-year-old boy lay on his back by the Naka River, fiddling with a jasmine flower in his hand.

"Should I run away with my parents, or should I get on good terms with Itachi beforehand and try to change his mind...?" Uchiha Rong's small hands rubbed the jasmine's stem, and the tiny flower twisted into a conflicted angle.

Rong was originally a rootless person from Blue Star, abducted by human traffickers when he was young, but then abandoned in a small mountain village due to his frail health.

Fortunately, the villagers were warm-hearted, and the little tyke had the chance to grow up eating food from a hundred different families.

After more than ten years of hard study, he followed the village secretary's advice and painstakingly passed the exam for a second-tier university, only to take a shortcut and become a security guard forty years earlier.

His biggest hobby was watching Naruto, but unexpectedly, it was precisely because he stomped his foot in anger upon seeing Neji impaled by a tree stump on the road that he was taken from this world by a runaway truck.

Perhaps heaven pitied the poor child and gave him another chance.

In the 46th year of Konoha, to his parents' delight, he became a member of the Uchiha clan.

Thus, Rong became Uchiha Rong, and the little tyke, under his parents' care, became the top student.

The only drawback was that the 'clan extermination' blade was getting closer and closer to his neck.

"It must be put on the agenda!

According to the deductions of the old-timers on the forum, the Uchiha clan massacre will be in two years. At least before then..." Uchiha Rong stopped his movements and secretly swore to the jasmine.

"Rong—! It's time to come home for dinner! Aunt Hua has been waiting for you!" The neighbor's boy, Uchiha Shiro, shouted from afar.

Uchiha Rong dropped the jasmine in his hand, casually brushed off the dust from his body, and yelled, "Got it!" He then rushed home in a hurry.

The pristine jasmine was stained with the damp yellow soil from the riverside, reflecting a crimson blood color in the last rays of the setting sun.

Half an hour later, the sky grew dark.

Uchiha Rong's father was still on duty at the Police Force and had not yet returned home, but Uchiha Rong had already cleaned the food on the table spotless.

"Mom, I'll wash the dishes ~" Uchiha Rong smiled, stopping Uchiha Hua from getting up to go into the kitchen, "You should rest well. Tonight, try to... hehehe, I want a little sister ~"

Uchiha Hua's face flushed, and she chided, "Little Rong! Have you grown wings? How dare you tease your mother! You're asking for a beating!"

Uchiha Hua, who had married young, was only twenty-four at this moment, still in the prime of her youth, and she actually chased Uchiha Rong around the dining table.

"Mom, I'm thinking for the family! Look, Dad comes home so late every day; a couple needs emotional communication ~"

Uchiha Rong slipped into the kitchen, picked up a plate, and started scrubbing it.

Now that he was doing the dishes, Uchiha Hua couldn't very well punish the rascal, so she just indignantly left him with a harsh warning:

"Your father will deal with you properly when he gets back! You're so out of line... How can you make fun of your own mom and dad...?" So she rubbed her face and left the kitchen.

Uchiha Rong's hands didn't stop moving, but he was truly grumbling like a mother nagging about marriage: "Oh, my foolish mother, you can't keep Dad's heart this way.

Look, Dad now dares to pretend to be busy with overtime. If you don't communicate your feelings, he'll be taken away by some young girl outside—"

Uchiha Rong put down the plate, his hands pausing, "—or maybe even a young man like Haku—"

"—what if he gets taken away? Will you then cry with me while throwing a grand ceremony for Dad? So, I'm saying..."

A dull thud came from outside the door, and Uchiha Rongfrowned. That didn't sound like a broom being blown over by the wind.

Was Father back?

No, Father never drank, so he definitely wouldn't stumble at the doorstep.

Mother wouldn't be going out at this time either... He pulled out a kitchen knife, held it in a reverse grip across his chest, crouched down, and slowly walked out of the kitchen, heading towards the entrance.

With a "swish," he pulled open the entrance door. The view outside wasn't clear, and Uchiha Rong could only vaguely see a dark mass on the lawn in the distance.

The kitchen knife in his hand tightened. The shuriken traps he had set up during 'practice' hadn't been triggered.

That meant a thief familiar with the Uchiha clan must have entered the house!

Uchiha Rong quickly stealthily approached the dark mass. The familiar scent of soapberry and a faint smell of blood alerted him!

It's... Mother??

How could this be?

Terrified and enraged, Uchiha Rong suddenly turned and thrust, actually stirring up a slight whooshing of wind.

"You're quite capable." The man in front of him was dressed in ANBU uniform, holding a ninja sword, his face hidden by a fox mask concealing the executioner's true identity. His ninja tool pouch was wide open, as if its clasp had been cut off by Uchiha Rong's strike.

Uchiha Itachi!

Is this the Uchiha clan massacre?

But shouldn't this be two years from now?? The forum clearly said it was in the 56th year of Konoha... There was no time to think. The person in front of him raised his blade again!

Uchiha Rong only managed to dodge left, but he landed right within the pincer attack of four shuriken.

"This is as far as you go... I'm sorry..."

With a sigh that sounded like a farewell, Uchiha Rong's breathing grew weaker.

But looking at Uchiha Hua's eyes beside him, which were filled with regret and the fierce determination to protect her child, yet were already dim and lifeless, Uchiha Rong's pupils grew increasingly blood-red, and finally, a tomoe appeared in his eye.

"...What can I change...? I'm powerless to do anything... I'm sorry... Mother... If only I had been faster..."

Unable to grasp Hua's large hand again, even with all his strength, Uchiha Rong fell into a deep sleep.

"An interesting foreign soul, a change never seen before... Let's see if you can create the story I anticipate..."

A mysterious entity from an unknown timeline bestowed three gifts upon Uchiha Rong.

"Even I cannot change the rules of the Pure Land, so, I will leave some guidance for you."

Guidance? Is that voice speaking to me? But I'm already dead beyond dead... Uchiha Rong dazedly fell into infinite darkness.

He never imagined he would see light again, and it was in a misty modern city.

In the autumn of 1988, in East London, at the main entrance of Maria Orphanage, an elderly woman named Martha was sweeping fallen leaves from the doorway.

"These plane tree leaves are so hard to sweep this year. Next year, I'll just ask Susan's children to do it. These old bones of mine—Oh, Jesus!"

Martha glanced over and saw a boy covered in blood sitting in the shadow of the main gate!

Her kindness transcended the physical limits of her old bones, dragging her body as she ran, scooped up the boy in front of her, and rushed to the nearest doctor's house.

"What? But I'm just a dentist?"

Mr. Granger reluctantly examined Uchiha Rong's injuries.

"With this much blood loss, he should be sent to a big hospital... How does he not have any wounds?"

Mrs. Martha and Mr. Granger stared at each other, wide-eyed. This was simply unbelievable.

Hermione, standing at her doorstep, unhappily tried to remove Mrs. Granger's hand covering her eyes.

"Be good, Hermione. If you see this, you won't be able to sleep tonight!"

Hermione pouted, her pretty eyebrows slightly raised under her fluffy curly hair: "Mom! I'm not a child anymore!

I'm still first in class this time, and you promised to let me see anything I want!"

"Mom!!" As the keywords were spoken, Uchiha Rongsuddenly sat upright.

Chapter 2: Favor from Immortality

The September sunlight streamed through the cruciform windowpanes, casting diagonal patterns on the wooden floor of the orphanage.

Uchiha Rong opened his eyes, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, disoriented for a moment. Four days.

It had taken him a full four days to grudgingly accept the fact that he was alive again—and in a completely foreign country.

"A Dragon Country kid?" he mumbled softly, his fingertips unconsciously caressing the bedsheet.

Grandma Martha had introduced him that way. He had concocted a barely plausible lie: a child on the run, pursued, who had fled here after his parents died.

"How ironic," he tugged at the corner of his mouth. "An orphan in my last life, and still an orphan in this one."

But at least, this time, he was no longer a helpless ordinary person.

He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking deep into his mind. There, three scrolls floated silently—

[Source of Power], origin of heavenly power,

[Humanity's Wish]

The latter two were dim and lifeless, only [Source of Power] glowed faintly blue, like some kind of summons.

"Alright, let's see what you're good for," he thought, and the scroll slowly unfurled—then instantly transformed into the thing he hated most.

The 5·3 Workbook, with its blue background and gold stripes, the familiar cover, the familiar sense of oppression.

"...God, are you playing with me?" His mouth twitched, but he patiently "opened" the first page.

Uchiha Style · Lightning Release Ninjutsu Compendium]

Dense arrays of jutsu were listed there, with a note beside them: [Requires Lightning Release Chakra to study].

"Chakra?" He frowned. "Where would this broken world get Chakra?"

The 5·3 Workbook seemed to sense his doubt, automatically flipping to the last few pages—[Ninja Tool Production Guide].

Senbon, kunai, explosive tags... and even instructions for making Chakra testing paper.

[Simple Method for Chakra Testing Paper: Materials: parchment, Draught of Living Death (toilet cleaner can be used as a substitute). Steps: Soak for three hours, then cut into pieces.]

"Draught of Living Death? What's that? And toilet cleaner?" He stared at the line of text, a vein throbbing in his forehead. "Will this stuff actually work?"

But for now, he had no choice. A line of text suddenly appeared in the The 5·3 Workbook in his mind: [D-rank mission: Obtain parchment (0/1). Reward: Chakra detection ability unlocked.]

He took a deep breath, jumped out of bed, patted his face, and put on the innocent smile an eight-year-old child should have.

"Grandma Martha!" He trotted into the living room, seeing the old woman wiping a picture frame. "Let me help you clean!"

Martha was startled for a moment, then smiled kindly: "You're such a good child, but Grandma isn't tired. Go play with the other children."

Rong blinked, suddenly feeling a bit ironic—in his last life, he had learned how to curry favor with others just to survive.

And now, he had to use the same methods to get a piece of parchment.

"Grandma ~" His voice softened, with a hint of coaxing. At the same time, a faint Chakra quietly gathered in his pupils.

Martha's gaze wavered for a moment, then her smile became even softer: "Alright, since you're so thoughtful... I'll leave the toilet and living room to you."

Rong nodded obediently, taking the cleaning tools. As he turned, he felt a slight warmth in his eyes, and a prompt popped up in the The 5·3 Workbook in his mind:

[Single Tomoe Sharingan (1/1) mastered].

He instinctively touched his eyes, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Genjutsu really works on ordinary people."

Half an hour later, he successfully pilfered a small bottle of toilet cleaner from the cleaning cart.

Just as he was about to sneak back to his room, the orphanage door was pushed open, and a girl with fluffy brown hair poked her head in.

"Madam Martha, my mom asked me to bring some old clothes..."

Before she finished speaking, her gaze met Rong's. The girl frowned, staring at the toilet cleaner in his hand.

They stared at each other, wide-eyed.

"...Are you doing some kind of experiment?"

Rong instinctively hid the bottle behind him, revealing a harmless smile. "It's a secret."

The girl's eyebrows rose, her expression as if to say—you can't fool me.

She put down the bag she was carrying and walked directly in front of Rong, extending her hand.

"I'm Hermione Granger."

"Uchiha Rong."

He hesitated for a moment, but still took her small hand.

Hermione's palm was warm and dry, reminding him of the rough tree trunks in the Konoha training ground.

"Are you Japanese?" Hermione tilted her head, asking, "The surname Uchiha..."

"Sort of," Rong said vaguely.

In his life before last, he had Dragon Country blood, and in Konoha, he spoke Japanese, so his lineage was a bit mixed.

Hermione's eyes lit up. "That's great! I'm studying Asian culture. Can you teach me Japanese? I can teach you... uh, anything you need."

Rong looked at her expectant eyes and suddenly realized this was an opportunity.

To establish himself in this new world, he needed a guide who understood it. And this exceptionally intelligent girl might just be the best candidate.

"Deal," he said. "But with conditions."

"What conditions?"

"Help me find some... special materials," Rong lowered his voice, "parchment, quill pens, and—"

"Chemical reagents?" Hermione excitedly interrupted him. "My dad's clinic has tons!"

Rong blinked, not expecting things to go so smoothly. He was about to answer when Grandma Martha's voice came from the kitchen: "Children, come have some snacks!"

Hermione immediately grabbed Rong's wrist. "Let's go! Madam Martha's gingerbread is the best."

Rong was pulled forward by her, watching the girl's fluffy hair shimmer with golden-brown luster in the sunlight. Out of nowhere, he suddenly felt that perhaps this rebirth wasn't so bad after all. At least, he wouldn't be alone.

That night, Rong hid under the covers, pouring the stolen toilet cleaner into a small dish, then tearing off a small piece of parchment and soaking it.

The parchment slowly turned light blue, and fine lines appeared on its surface.

"It actually works..." he whispered, and following the instructions in The 5·3 Workbook, he gently pressed his finger onto the test paper.

The test paper instantly changed—it split into two areas in the middle, the left half turning to ash, the right edge curling and charring.

"Lightning and Fire dual-attribute..." Rong stared at the changes in the test paper, a smile unconsciously forming on his lips.

Although this world had no Chakra, his body seemed to have retained the physique of a ninja, which meant he could still extract Chakra.

Just then, the test paper suddenly trembled violently, emitting faint crackling sounds, and several tiny electric sparks danced on the paper's surface.

"This is..."

Before Rong could even be surprised, a soft sound suddenly came from outside the window. He quickly put away the test paper and pretended to be asleep.

On the windowsill, a raven was tilting its head, looking at him, its black feathers shimmering with a metallic luster in the moonlight. Rong narrowed his eyes—the bird's pupils were blood-red.

The raven gently pecked at the window glass, then opened its beak and spat out a pitch-black feather.

The feather drifted down to Rong's pillow, with a familiar pattern embroidered on it in fine gold thread—the Uchihaclan crest.

Rong's heart pounded. He reached out to grab the bird, but it had already flapped its wings and flown into the night.

"My transmigration was definitely not accidental," Rong stared intently at the feather, as if trying to pierce through the darkness to see the truth.

Chapter 3: New Life

When the morning sun streamed through the gaps in the curtains, Uchiha Rong was already dressed.

He stood at the orphanage entrance, looking at the brand-new schoolbag Grandma Martha had prepared for him, inside which was a parchment notebook Hermione had secretly slipped to him last night.

"Today is your first day at the new school," Grandma Martha tidied his collar.

"You must listen to your teacher, okay?"

Rong nodded obediently, but his eyes unconsciously darted towards the street corner.

Sure enough, a familiar figure was running towards them—Hermione Granger, with her bulging schoolbag and brown curly hair gently swaying in the morning breeze.

"Good morning, Mrs. Martha!" Hermione stopped, panting, her cheeks flushed from running.

"May I walk to school with Rong?"

Grandma Martha smiled and nodded: "Of course, dear.

Do take good care of your new classmate."

Walking to school, Hermione couldn't wait to barrage him with questions: "Are you really Japanese? I saw you covered in blood that day, were you injured? Why did you come here? Where are your parents?"

Rong listened to her incessant questions, especially the one about his parents, and his lowered single-tomoe Sharingan began to spin.

He took a deep breath, responding one by one to the second person in this world who had shown him kindness.

He took a deep breath, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the strap of his schoolbag.

"I come from a small family in the East." Rong answered selectively, his voice as soft as morning mist.

"My parents... are no longer here."

Hermione's steps suddenly halted, a flicker of panic in her big brown eyes.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that..." Her fingers intertwined, and the hem of her school uniform skirt swayed gently in the morning breeze.

Rong shook his head, a faint smile on his lips: "It's okay." He noticed a strange badge pinned to Hermione's schoolbag.

"What is this?"

"Oh! This is the science club badge." Hermioneimmediately livened up again, like a cat finding a new toy.

"I'm researching electromagnetic phenomena, I just made a simple generator last week..."

Rong listened quietly, occasionally nodding.

When Hermione spoke, she always unconsciously stood on her tiptoes, her brown curly hair glowing golden-red in the sunlight.

He suddenly remembered the children at the Konoha orphanage who always pestered him for stories.

When the red brick building of North City Primary School appeared in their sight, Hermione suddenly lowered her voice: "Rong, you need to be careful of Jem Ned.

He's in third grade, and he always bullies new students... and me..."

Before she finished speaking, a sharp voice came from behind them: "Look who it is? Granger and her new pet monkey!"

Rong turned and saw three third-grade boys blocking the path.

The boy in the lead had unnaturally red hair and a fake smile on his chubby face.

His gaze lingered on Rong's black hair and eyes for a moment, revealing an expression of disgust.

"Leave us alone, Ned." Hermione stood in front of Rong, her voice trembling but exceptionally firm.

Ned exaggeratedly clutched his chest: "Oh~ our bookworm is getting angry!" His cronies let out harsh laughter.

"I heard you were experimenting in the garage last night? You weren't teaching your little boyfriend to play house, were you?"

Rong felt Hermione's hand trembling slightly.

He gently pulled her aside and stepped forward.

The sunlight hit his profile, casting a sharp shadow.

"I said," Rong's voice was very soft, yet it made the laughter abruptly stop, "Get lost."

Ned's expression froze for a moment, then he angrily reached out to grab Rong's collar.

Amidst Hermione's startled cry, a red light flashed in Rong's eyes—

"Ah ah ah!" Ned suddenly screamed, pulling his hand back as if he had been electrocuted.

His pupils were filled with terror, as if he had seen Gargamel cooking him into Smurf soup.

"You... what did you do?" Ned retreated in terror.

Rong just looked at him calmly, his black eyes unfathomable.

The The 5·3 Workbook vibrated in his mind, and a line of text appeared: "D-rank mission: Campus Defense (1/1) completed.

Reward: Lightning Release: Lightning Strike Jutsu unlocked".

"Let's go." Rong took Hermione's wrist and walked past the three stunned boys.

It wasn't until they entered the school gate that Hermionecame back to her senses.

"What was that just now...?" she asked in a low voice, her eyes astonishingly bright.

Rong didn't answer, just put his index finger to his lips.

Hermione immediately nodded in understanding, but Rong could see that her notebook was already filled with dense observational notes.

In the classroom, they were assigned to sit together.

Hermione's desk was meticulously tidy, pencils arranged by length, and textbook corners aligned so perfectly they could be used as a ruler.

Rong looked at the defense diagram she had drawn in her notebook and was surprised to find that she was already close to the truth of where the fear in Ned's eyes came from!

/He might have instantly pulled out something that made Ned afraid! Bugs? Or some kind of weapon?/

"Sir, it's very impolite to peek at someone else's notebook!" Hermione covered her notebook, and although her words were sharp, her raised eyebrows betrayed her happy heart.

"Why don't you say anything?" Hermione extended her small hand.

Rong stared at her, and finally accepted this kindness.

"Aren't you afraid?" Rong couldn't help but ask.

Hermione bit the tip of her pencil, tilting her head in thought like a curious chipmunk: "Afraid? Mr. Uchiha, you just helped me, why should I be afraid of someone who helped me?"

Her voice lowered, and she suddenly grabbed Rong's wrist, "But this is too dangerous, what if he tells the teacher and you get expelled? That won't do, Grandma Martha went through a lot of trouble for your enrollment..."

Rong looked at the sincere girl in front of him and suddenly found it a bit amusing.

The first reaction of ordinary people to unknown phenomena is fear or awe, but this girl named Hermione Granger, her first reaction was actually how to avoid risks.

"Next time for sure." He promised softly.

"But you have to do me a favor."

The entire morning's lessons were ridiculously easy for Rong.

He dealt with basic arithmetic problems while secretly practicing Lightning Strike Jutsu under the desk.

Faint currents danced at his fingertips, and only by getting very close could one hear a faint "crackling" sound.

At lunchtime, Hermione pulled him into a corner of the library.

"Here!" She mysteriously pulled out a scroll of parchment and several bottles with labels.

"Got them from my dad's clinic.

This is nitric acid, this is ethanol, and also... don't get me wrong, I just love chemistry experiments!"

Miss Chipmunk adamantly refused to admit that this was a reward for Rong's help.

Rong examined these "dangerous goods" and suddenly realized that in this world without Chakra, these might be the closest things to ninja tool materials.

He carefully put away the bottles, then suddenly heard rustling sounds from behind the bookshelf.

"Damn it, we've been found!" Ned and his little cronies slowly emerged from behind the bookshelf, holding a bucket of water.

"Taste this! Yellow-skinned monkey!"

Under the brim of his baseball cap, the Sharingan slowly rotated.

The speed of the water flow was as ridiculous as a mime actor slowing down his steps.

"Isn't this perfect? Lightning Release: Lightning Strike!"

Chanting the name of the technique, Rong quickly formed hand signs, and an arc of electricity appeared out of nowhere, flowing against the direction of the water like a snake.

"Ah!" Ned, as the one holding the iron bucket, was the first to feel the pain of the electric shock and fell to the ground, his two cronies quickly scattering like birds.

"This, this is too amazing! How did you do it, did you use any tools?" Hermione's eyes couldn't help but reveal a "exploratory" gleam.

Rong smiled slightly: "Keep it a secret for me, Granger." After casting a genjutsu on Ned with his Sharingan, Rong turned and urged Hermione to leave the library.

"He'll just think I beat him up, let's go!"

Miss Granger was puzzled, but still believed Rong's nonsense.

At the same time, The 5·3 Workbook struck again:

"D-rank mission: Library Defense (1/1) completed.

Reward: Lightning Release: Current Jutsu unlocked"

Rong's smile couldn't be suppressed anymore, could Nedcome again!

— — — — — —

Soon after, a strangely dressed person appeared out of thin air beside Ned, looking peculiar: "There should have been magic residue here... why is there nothing... could it be that the department's equipment is malfunctioning?"

After observing for a while, he disappeared as he had appeared.

Chapter 4 Granger's Tenth Birthday

September 19th, a cool early autumn breeze swept across the playground, and withered sycamore leaves twirled down onto Rong's shoulder.

He stood under the old oak tree at the school's back gate, looking at the small cake in his palm.

This was his reward for helping the cafeteria auntie wash dishes; the cream had already melted a bit, but the words "Happy Birthday Hermione" were still clearly visible.

"What are you doing here?"

Hermione's voice came from behind him. When Rong turned around, he saw her carrying a stack of books that almost blocked her view.

Her brown curly hair was much longer than when he first saw her, falling naturally behind her head, fluffy like a squirrel's large tail.

"Happy Birthday." Rong held up the cake, his voice so soft it was barely audible.

Hermione's books clattered to the ground. Her eyes widened, and her lips trembled slightly: "You... how did you know today was my birthday?"

"Enrollment form at the start of school." Rong shrugged, gently kicking a small pebble with the tip of his foot, "Your parents... didn't prepare anything?"

Hermione's expression dimmed for a moment, then she forced a cheerful demeanor: "They went to Edinburgh for a dentist's seminar and won't be back until next week."

She squatted down to pick up the scattered books, her voice muffled, "Actually, it's nothing, just an ordinary day..."

Rong squatted beside her, carefully placing the cake to the side.

He noticed Hermione's eyes were a little red at the corners, but he said nothing.

The two silently finished picking up the books, then Rong suddenly spoke: "I have a place I want to take you."

In the small woods behind the school, Rong found a flat rock.

He magically pulled a few candles from his pocket and stuck them into the already deforming cake.

"Make a wish." He pulled out a match, and the candlelight flickered in the evening breeze.

Hermione looked at the simple but warm birthday celebration and suddenly burst out laughing: "You're just going to make me blow out candles here? There isn't even a chair."

"Ninja don't need chairs," Rong replied seriously, but then he also laughed when he saw Hermione's amused expression.

This was the first time he had truly and sincerely laughed since coming to this world.

As Hermione closed her eyes to make a wish, Rong noticed her eyelashes casting tiny shadows in the candlelight.

She was wearing a light blue dress today, with the Science Club badge pinned to her collar—

Rong remembered it was the only club she had joined, because other clubs didn't allow this top student to participate.

"Hmph—"

The moment the candles went out, the sound of branches breaking suddenly came from the woods.

Rong's body immediately tensed, and his Sharingansilently activated under his baseball cap.

"Found you!" Ned, with five older students, emerged from the bushes, a malicious grin on his face, "Heard it's the bookworm's birthday today? We're here to deliver 'gifts'!"

Hermione subconsciously clutched Rong's sleeve. Rong gently patted her hand, and by the time he stood up, his expression had already adjusted: "Get lost, Ned. Not today."

"Oh? The little monkey is angry?" Ned exaggeratedly mimicked Rong's Eastern accent, "My dad says you Asians are all—"

He couldn't finish his sentence. Rong's figure suddenly vanished from his spot, and the next second, Ned felt a sharp pain in his abdomen.

He widened his eyes, watching this Eastern boy, a head shorter than him, punch him so hard he doubled over.

"I said," Rong's voice was cold as ice, "Not today."

"What are you waiting for?!" Ned roared, clutching his stomach, and the remaining five boys swarmed forward.

Rong's figure weaved among them, every movement terrifyingly precise—joint locks, pressure point strikes, leverage throws... He didn't use flashy ninjutsu; the most basic taijutsu was enough to make this pampered group of British boys cry for their daddies and mummies.

Thirty seconds later, all six bullies lay groaning on the ground. Rong clapped his hands, as if brushing off non-existent dust, and turned to Hermione: "The cake is still edible."

A prompt from The 5·3 Workbook came to his mind, but Rong clearly knew that celebrating Miss Granger's birthday was more important right now.

Hermione's mouth was wide enough to fit an egg. She looked at Ned wailing on the ground, then at the calm-faced Rong, and suddenly burst into loud laughter: "You... you were just like... a scene from a Bruce Lee movie!"

Rong shrugged and offered her a spoonful of cream: "Try it?"

Hermione took the spoon, but after tasting it, her eyes suddenly welled up: "Thank you, Rong. This is... the best birthday present I've ever received."

As dusk deepened, two small figures sat side by side on the rock, sharing the already misshapen cake.

Hermione chattered endlessly about her latest experimental plans, and Rong listened quietly, occasionally nodding.

When the first star appeared, Hermione suddenly leaned her head on Rong's shoulder.

"You know what?" Her voice softened with sleepiness, "Sometimes I feel like you're as reliable as an adult..." Like a... friendly older brother, Miss Chipmunk silently added in her heart.

Rong stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, letting Hermione's golden-brown hair brush against his cheek.

The night breeze swept through the woods, carrying the sweet scent of cake and the coolness of early autumn.

From that day on, no one at school dared to bother Hermione and Rong again.

Ned avoided them like the plague, and the teachers were relieved by the sudden "reformation" of the problematic students.

Only Hermione knew the truth, but she kept that secret tightly guarded—just as Rong kept her birthday wish.

The library became their second classroom. Hermionetaught Rong English grammar and mathematical formulas, while Rong taught her some simple self-defense techniques—

Of course, omitting all parts that required Chakra.

Sometimes, when the librarian wasn't around, Rong would secretly display some harmless little tricks, like making a pencil spin so fast between his fingers it left afterimages, or accurately hitting a wastebasket twenty meters away with an eraser.

"That's not scientific!" Hermione would always protest, then immediately draw force analysis diagrams in her notebook, "Unless your fingers can generate some special magnetic field..."

Rong just smiled, never explaining.

He liked watching Hermione rack her brains over an "unscientific" phenomenon; it reminded him of his own confusion and excitement when he first learned ninjutsu.

One rainy day in late October, Hermione suddenly stopped Rong in the corner of the library: "I found it!"

She excitedly waved a worn physics textbook, "Your'special ability' might be related to bioelectricity! Look at this chapter!"

Rong looked at the dense formulas in the book and Hermione's shining eyes, and suddenly had an urge to tell her the truth.

But The 5·3 Workbook vibrated in his mind, and a line of text appeared as a warning:

[World Rule Restriction: Disclosure of Ninja World information is prohibited]

"You're very close." In the end, he could only reply like this, reaching out to ruffle Hermione's fluffy curly hair, "Keep up the good work, Professor Granger."

Hermione swatted his hand away, but couldn't hide the smile on her lips: "Oh, stop it! I'll figure it out sooner or later!"

The rain outside grew heavier, but in the warm corner of the library, two small figures huddled together, studying one thick book after another, as if the world consisted only of this small space.

When the first snow of December fell, Rong could already speak fluent English, and Hermione had mastered basic self-defense techniques.

They played in the snow outside the school gate, Hermione's red scarf particularly striking against the white snow.

Rong deliberately slowed down to let her catch up, then feigned an exaggerated wail when she tackled him.

"I win!" Hermione announced triumphantly, straddling Rong's neck, but then her face turned red when she saw the amusement in Rong's eyes, "You... you did that on purpose!"

Rong smiled without answering, just reached out to brush the snowflakes from her hair.

In this moment, he almost forgot the blood of the clan massacre, forgot the distant Ninja World.

On this snowy afternoon, he was just an ordinary boy, playing in the snow with a girl named Hermione Granger.

Until—

"Hey! You two!"

The school caretaker's voice broke the beautiful moment. Hermione hastily scrambled off Rong, but slipped in her haste and fell right into Rong's arms.

They tumbled together, and when the caretaker's flashlight beam shone over them, they were lying awkwardly in the snow, hair and clothes covered in snow, yet they couldn't stop giggling.

"What an outrage!" The eccentric old caretaker's mustache bristled with anger, "How can boys and girls... Go back to class!"

Hermione stuck out her tongue and pulled Rong away.

They said goodbye downstairs at the club building. Hermione suddenly handed Rong a small package: "Christmas present! Giving it to you early, because... because my mom and dad are taking me to France for the holidays."

Rong took the gift, feeling the outline of a book inside: "Thank you."

"Don't open it now!" Hermione warned, her face red, "Wait until I'm gone!" With that, she hurried into the Science Club.

Rong stood in the snow, listening to the discussions start in Hermione's classroom.

He carefully unwrapped the package—it was a hardcover collection of "Sherlock Holmes Detective Stories," with an inscription on the flyleaf:

"To my best friend and teacher. May you always keep that sense of mystery. — H. G."

Rong's lips unconsciously curved upwards. He looked up at Hermione's window and saw her peeking from behind the curtain.

The moment their eyes met, Hermione smiled happily and waved, but Rong saw her reddened earlobes from afar.

The snow continued to fall quietly.

Chapter 5: Owl Letter

July 15, 1991

"Rong! Wake up! Hurry and wake up!"

A rapid knocking on the door, accompanied by Hermione's excited shouts, jolted Rong awake from his sleep.

He opened his eyes; the sky outside the window was barely lit, and Hermione's hurried footsteps echoed in the orphanage corridor.

Rong rubbed his eyes, and as soon as he opened the door, a brown figure suddenly pounced in.

"Look! Look quickly!" Hermione's cheeks were flushed from running, and she waved a thick parchment envelope in her hand, "Hogwarts! They sent me a letter!"

Rong took the envelope, feeling a sudden prick when his fingertips touched the wax seal.

The envelope was addressed in emerald green ink:

Miss Granger

Second Floor Bedroom, Window-side Bed

24 Church Road, Wimbledon, London

"What kind of school is this...?" Rong murmured, his finger unconsciously caressing the school crest on the envelope—

A lion, a snake, a badger, and an eagle surrounding a capital "H."

He must have seen this design somewhere, but he couldn't recall where.

Hermione had already impatiently torn open the envelope, her voice trembling as she read: "Dear Miss Granger, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..."

Her voice suddenly softened: "Rong, there really is magic in this world!

I always thought you... thought..."

Rong looked at Hermione's sparkling eyes and suddenly realized something: "Wait, do your parents know?"

Hermione's expression dimmed for a moment: "I haven't told them yet... They've always wanted me to be a dentist..."

She grabbed Rong's hand: "But that's not the point! The point is—" Her voice suddenly deepened, "We might... not be able to go to school together anymore..."

Rong's heart sank...

After three years of constant companionship, he had grown accustomed to Hermione's morning knocks, to her focused profile in the classroom, to the color of her red scarf in the snow.

Now, all of that was about to—

"Wait." Rong suddenly interrupted his own thoughts, "You said this is a magic school?"

Hermione nodded, continuing to read the letter: "...A list of necessary books and equipment is enclosed.

Term begins on September first..."

She suddenly widened her eyes, "Rong! It says here we can bring an owl, cat, or toad! What should I bring? Owls are too noisy, and toads are too..."

Rong watched Hermione's renewed excitement, a smile unconsciously forming on his lips.

He reached out and ruffled her messy curly hair: "Don't rush to think about pets.

What about your parents?"

Hermione bit her lip: "I'll convince them."

She suddenly grabbed Rong's hand, "You have to help me!"

And so, Rong was pulled by Hermione to the Granger family's house.

All morning, he sat in the Granger family's living room, listening to Hermione and her parents' heated discussion.

When Hermione finally demonstrated a few "small magictricks" —

Which were actually illusions Rong created with his Chakra.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger reluctantly agreed to let their daughter visit this "special boarding school."

In the evening, Rong returned to the orphanage alone.

Grandma Martha was anxiously looking out the door: "Rong! You have a letter!"

Rong's heart suddenly accelerated.

He took the thick parchment envelope, immediately recognizing the wax seal, identical to Hermione's.

The envelope was addressed in the same emerald green ink:

Mr. Uchiha Rong

Small Room on the East Side of the Third Floor, Maria Orphanage

17 Oak Street, East London

"This... How is this possible...?" Rong's fingers trembled slightly.

He didn't tell Grandma Martha about Hogwarts, but quietly returned to his room and carefully opened the envelope.

The content of the letter was almost identical to Hermione's, with only an additional line of handwritten text at the end:

Given your special circumstances, the school will send a dedicated person to accompany you to Diagon Alley to purchase your school supplies.

Please wait at the Leaky Cauldron at 9 AM on July thirty-first.

— Albus Dumbledore

Rong stared at the line of text for a long time.

Why would Hogwarts know his name? Why would it invite someone without magic blood?

More importantly—why did all of this feel so familiar to him?

Outside the window, the sound of wings flapping suddenly came.

Rong looked up and saw the familiar raven standing on the windowsill, its blood-red eyes staring intently at him.

"Is it you again? What for this time?"

The raven hopped onto the windowsill and landed on Rong's shoulder.

The Uchiha clan crest on the tail feather that had fallen before now glowed.

The 5·3 Workbook vibrated—

Summoning Jutsu

Summoning target detected: Night Feather

Summoning Contract about to be signed

"Night Feather..."

Rong softly spoke the name, and successfully signed his name on the Summoning Contract.

The raven suddenly let out a harsh cry, spread its wings, and flew into the night.

Rong sat by the bed, his mind racing.

For three years, the 'Humanity's Wish' scroll in The 5·3 Workbook had remained unopened, but now it suddenly showed activity.

And Hogwarts... a magic school... and that indescribable sense of familiarity... all of it was too coincidental.

The next morning, Hermione came again.

She excitedly recounted how Professor McGonagall had visited her house the previous day to talk to her parents.

Rong listened quietly, nodding occasionally, but didn't mention that he had also received an acceptance letter.

"Oh, right!" Hermione suddenly closed her book, "I need to go to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies! The letter says it's behind the Leaky Cauldron... Do you know where the Leaky Cauldron is?"

Rong shook his head.

Hermione immediately opened a map of London and began to study it, completely oblivious to the complex expression that flashed in Rong's eyes.

In the following days, Hermione came to Rong almost every day to discuss Hogwarts.

She made a long list of books, memorizing all the textbook titles in advance; she tried using a twig as a wand to practice "spells"; she even designed several Improvement plan for the school uniform—

"The skirt is too long, it's inconvenient to move..."

Rong just listened quietly, occasionally offering suggestions.

He noticed that Hermione's hair seemed to have grown quite a bit since they first met, now long enough to be tied into a proper ponytail (though still fluffy);

Her eyes sparkled when she talked about magic, as if filled with stars;

Her speech was faster than before, especially when she was excited... On the morning of July thirty-first, Rong woke up early and put on his neatest clothes.

He didn't tell Hermione that he was also going to Diagon Alley, just left a note saying he was out for an errand.

The Leaky Cauldron was much shabbier than he had imagined.

Rong stood at the entrance, hesitating for a moment before pushing the door open.

Inside the dim pub, several oddly dressed men and women were drinking.

They glanced at Rong, then continued their conversation.

"Ah, Mr. Uchiha." A gentle voice came from the corner.

Rong turned and saw an old man with a long silver beard smiling at him.

He wore a purple robe embroidered with stars, and his blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles twinkled with wisdom.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Rong asked tentatively.

The old man nodded: "It's a pleasure to meet you, my boy.

I think we have a lot to talk about." He motioned for Rong to sit down, "First, regarding your unusual origins..."

Rong's heart skipped a beat.

His past memories had always been hidden beneath his Sharingan; it was impossible for ordinary people to discover them.

"Don't be nervous." Dumbledore waved his hand gently, and two plates of lemon sherbet appeared on the table.

"Hogwarts welcomes all talented children, no matter where they come from." He looked at Rong meaningfully, "Even if they... come from a very distant place."

Rong clenched his fists.

What did this old man know? Did he know he wasn't from this world? Did he know the Uchiha clan? Or was it... "Time is short." Dumbledore stood up, "Let's go buy your school supplies first.

I think you'll be very interested in Ollivander's wands."

As Dumbledore led Rong through the Leaky Cauldron's backyard, Rong finally understood why Hermione was so fascinated by magic.

The brick wall automatically parted before him, revealing a winding cobblestone street lined with all sorts of wondrous shops—

Self-writing quills, roaring magic books haggling, brooms floating in shop windows... "Welcome to Diagon Alley." Dumbledore said with a smile, "I think we'll start with wands?"

Rong followed the old man into Ollivander's wand shop, his heart filled with questions.

If there truly was magic in this world, then what were his Chakra and ninjutsu?

What would Hogwarts teach him?

Most importantly—what would Hermione's reaction be when she found out he had also been accepted?

As Mr. Ollivander measured his arm length, Rong's gaze fell upon a familiar figure outside the shop door.

Fluffy brown curly hair, carrying a stack of books that almost blocked her view, excitedly pointing at a pet shop window... Hermione.

Chapter 6: Wand Choice

The Ollivander wand shop was filled with the scent of old wood. Rong stood at the counter, watching the silver-eyed old man weave between towering shelves. Dumbledorestood quietly in the corner, his gaze, almost imperceptible behind his half-moon spectacles, resting on Rong.

"Ah, a special customer." Ollivander's voice was like dry leaves rubbing together. "Let me see... Eastern bloodline, a youth favored by thunder and fire... Interesting, very interesting."

Rong's fingertips tightened slightly. How did this old man know his Chakra affinity?

Ollivander took a slender box from a shelf: "Try this one first. Dogwood, Phoenix feather, eleven inches."

The moment Rong took the wand, a burning sensation spread from his palm. He instinctively waved it—

"Boom!"

All the glass bottles on the counter exploded, scattering fragments. Dumbledore's robes fluttered slightly, silently deflecting the shards flying towards him.

"No, no, clearly not suitable." Ollivander excitedly rubbed his hands. "Again! Black walnut, dragon heartstring, twelve and a quarter inches!"

This time, as soon as Rong gripped the wand, the entire wall of boxes began to tremble violently. Dangerous sparks shot from the wand's tip, scorching the shelves.

"Too volatile..." Ollivander murmured, his eyes growing brighter. "Let's try something more special..."

Over the next half hour, Rong tried seventeen different wands. Each time ended in some form of destruction—bookshelves collapsing, pipes bursting, and one wand even turned directly into ash in Rong's hand.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Ollivander's forehead: "I've never seen such... a difficult customer to match."

Dumbledore finally stepped out of the corner: "Perhaps, Garrick, we need to think outside the box."

Just then, there was a frantic flapping of wings outside the window. The raven named Night Feather slammed into the shop, circled once above everyone's heads, and dropped an object from his talons towards Rong.

Rong instinctively caught it—it was an entirely black wand, its surface covered with intricate golden patterns, and an dark red gem embedded in the pommel. The moment it touched Rong's palm, the patterns on the wand's surface glowed faintly, vaguely forming the Uchiha clan crest.

"This... this is..." Ollivander's voice trembled with excitement. "Thunderbird tail feather core, yew wood steeped in dragon's blood, eleven and a quarter inches... This wand has been missing for sixty years!"

Rong's fingers tingled slightly. He could feel the surging power within the wand resonating with his Chakra. When he gently waved it, a blue electrical arc leaped from the tip, drawing a perfect curve in the air before dissipating, causing no damage.

"Perfect!" Ollivander exclaimed. "The wand chose the Wizard... No, the Wizard tamed the wand!"

Dumbledore's gaze shifted between the raven and the wand: "It seems your friend knows what you need better than we do."

Rong silently stroked the wand. He could feel this magicitem adapting to his Chakra flow. The patterns on the wand's body flickered with his breathing, like a living thing.

"Give it a name," Dumbledore said gently. "Such wands usually have their own names."

"nightshade." Rong blurted out. This was an extension of the raven's name, and a commemoration of his past.

As he walked out of the wand shop, Rong saw Hermionestanding across the street, clutching a large stack of books, staring wide-eyed at the wand in his hand. Her lips moved, as if to say something, but she was interrupted by a commotion.

"Clear the way! Clear the way!" An arrogant voice came from the crowd. Rong turned and saw a platinum-haired boy, flanked by two burly henchmen, approaching. His pale face bore an arrogant expression, and his gaze, when it swept over Hermione, showed clear disdain.

"A Mudblood dares to buy books on her own?" he sneered, reaching out to touch the History of Magic in Hermione's arms.

Rong's actions were faster than his thoughts. He stepped in front of Hermione, the nightshade wand cutting across Malfoy's outstretched right hand and pointing at the boy's throat. No incantation, no superfluous movements, but the lightning flickering at the wand's tip was enough to freeze everyone in place.

"You owe an apology." Rong's voice was soft, yet it felt as if the surrounding temperature had plummeted.

The platinum-haired boy's face turned ashen. He took a step back, his lips trembling: "You... do you know who I am?"

"Draco Malfoy." Dumbledore's voice came from behind, calm yet carrying an undeniable authority. "I don't think your father would want you to cause trouble before school starts."

Malfoy's expression changed repeatedly, finally leaving resentfully under Dumbledore's gaze. Hermione clutched Rong's sleeve tightly, whispering: "You shouldn't have been so impulsive... his father is a school governor..."

Rong put away his wand, noticing the patterns on its body slowly calming. He could feel the magic item's compatibility with him had increased further during the confrontation.

"Mr. Uchiha." Dumbledore's voice made Rong look up. "I imagine you and Miss Granger still have a lot of things to buy. Why don't we split up? I have some matters to discuss with Mr. Ollivander."

Rong understood that this was the old man deliberately giving them space. He nodded, watching Dumbledore re-enter the wand shop, his star-embroidered robes flashing out of sight at the doorway.

Hermione immediately grabbed Rong's arm: "You knew already! You got the letter, why didn't you tell me? What's with this wand? How are you with Dumbledore, the greatest Wizard of our time? And that bird is—"

"One thing at a time." Rong interrupted her helplessly, taking the precarious stack of books from her arms. "Let's go buy your robes first, and I'll explain on the way."

At Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Rong briefly recounted how he received the letter and the origin of the raven Night Feather. Of course, he omitted the parts about The 5·3 Workbook and Chakra, only saying the wand was a "family heirloom."

"So that bird is your family's pet?" Hermione let the measuring tape glide around her, her eyes fixed on Rong. "How did it know what kind of wand you needed?"

"Not a pet." Rong chose his words carefully. "More like... a guardian spirit."

Hermione's eyes immediately sparkled with curiosity: "A guardian spirit? Is that a kind of magic contract? Does the Eastern magic system have—"

"Two young ladies and gentlemen." Madam Malkininterrupted. "Your Wizard robes are ready."

As they walked out of the shop, laden with bags, the setting sun had already dyed the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley gold. Rong's gaze swept over the ice cream shop on the corner, and he suddenly said: "Wait for me."

He ran into the shop and soon returned with two chocolate nut ice creams. When Hermione took the ice cream, her expression softened: "You still remember I like this flavor."

Rong took a bite of his ice cream, the sweet taste melting on his tongue. That winter day three years ago, sharing cake in the snow, felt like just yesterday.

"Rong." Hermione suddenly became serious. "Have you ever thought... we might be sorted into different Houses?"

Rong was silent for a moment. Of course, he had thought about it, but the recently unlocked information from The 5·3 Workbook gave him a new guess. "No matter which House," he finally said, "we'll always be the best partners."

Hermione's eyes lit up. She was about to say something when a familiar flapping of wings interrupted them. Night Feather landed on Rong's shoulder, a faintly glowing black feather in his beak. The moment Rong took the feather, The 5·3 Workbook automatically unfolded in his mind:

"Human Will Unlock Progress: 15%

Key Associate Confirmed: Hermione Granger

Bond Certification: Seeker of Knowledge

Current Reward: origin of heavenly power Analysis - A Way Home"

When Rong looked up, he saw Dumbledore standing at the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, watching them. The old man's gaze seemed exceptionally profound in the sunset, as if he could see through all appearances. But when Rong met his eyes, Dumbledore merely smiled faintly, then turned and disappeared into the dim doorway of the pub.

"We should go back," Rong said softly, carefully putting the black feather into his pocket. Night Feather flapped his wings and flew into the darkening sky, and Hermione's hand had, at some point, naturally clasped his sleeve.

At the end of Diagon Alley, the last rays of sunlight stretched the two figures walking side by side very long. Rong could feel nightshade emitting a gentle warmth in his inner robe pocket, like a seed waiting to sprout.

Chapter 7 Preparation before school starts

August 3, 1991, Leaky Cauldron

Ron stood by the window, his fingers lightly tapping the frame. Morning light filtered through London's perpetually gloomy clouds, casting dappled shadows on Diagon Alley's cobblestone path. He looked down at the nightshade wand in his hand—this peculiar wand had remained as sharp as a short dagger ever since the incident at Ollivander's shop.

"Still can't transform..."

He tried waving the wand, but only a faint electric spark emanated from its tip. There was no Chakra in this world, and using the wand for every Ninjutsu would consume immense energy. Ron put away his wand and took out the somewhat withered jasmine flower from his pocket—Hermione had pinned it to his collar yesterday.

"Ron! Are you up?" A familiar knock came from outside the door.

Ron quickly put away the flower, opened the door, and saw Hermione standing there, clutching a stack of books, her brown curly hair slightly disheveled from running.

"Look what I found!" She excitedly squeezed into the room, piling the books on the table, "History of European magic, Basic Charm Principles, and... huh?"

Her gaze fell on the floor beside Ron's bed—there were several oddly shaped metal pieces, their edges polished to an unusual sharpness.

"These are..."

"Commemorative coins." Ron subtly blocked her view, "An Eastern amulet."

Hermione gave him a suspicious look but didn't press further. She opened Basic Charm Principles: "I think we should study ahead, especially you, who knows nothing about the magic world."

Ron looked at the complex spell diagrams on the page and suddenly realized a serious problem: his "magic" was completely different from the system here. If he wanted to hide his identity at Hogwarts, he had to learn to disguise himself.

"How about we start with the simplest Levitation Charm?" Hermione had already pulled out her wand, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

A string of golden sparks shot from her wand tip, but the feather on the table didn't budge. Ron observed her movements, noticing that the flow of magic during spellcasting was distinctly different from Chakra—more spontaneous, more reliant on will than hand seals.

"Your turn." Hermione handed him the wand.

Ron took the wand, hesitating for a moment. He couldn't truly use magic, but he also couldn't expose Ninjutsu. Finally, he mimicked Hermione's movements, waving the wand while secretly slipping a thin thread from his sleeve to wrap around the feather.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

The feather slowly rose, and Hermione's eyes widened in surprise: "You succeeded on your first try? That's not fair!"

Ron's lips curved slightly, and he was about to say something when he suddenly felt a dizzy spell. The Chakraconsumption from incorrectly using the wand in this world was greater than he had imagined.

"You don't look so good." Hermione looked at him worriedly, "Do you want to go to the apothecary to buy some invigorating Potion? We haven't finished buying our Potion ingredients yet."

Half an hour later, Slug & Jiggers Apothecary

The apothecary was filled with strange smells, and liquids of various colors bubbled in glass bottles. Hermionesearched for ingredients against a list, while Ron warily observed his surroundings—ever since he got that wand, he always felt as if someone was watching them.

"Hellebore, fluxweed..." Hermione murmured, suddenly stopping in front of a row of blue-glowing bottles, "Ron, look at this!"

The bottles were labeled: "Draught of Living Death, Powerful Sleeping Potion."

Ron's pupils contracted slightly. In The 5·3 Workbook, this Potion was an important ingredient for making Chakra test paper. He reached for a bottle, but felt a prickling sensation the moment he touched it—a tiny snake-like pattern was drawn on the label at the bottom of the bottle.

"What's wrong?" Hermione noticed his abnormality.

"Nothing." Ron placed the bottle in the basket, then suddenly heard a familiar drawn-out voice behind him.

"Look who it is? Last time's... and her pet."

Draco Malfoy stood at the apothecary's entrance, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. A sneer was plastered on his pale face, his gaze lingering on the basket in Ron's hand: "Buying poison, you Easterner?"

Hermione's hand gripped Ron's sleeve tightly, but this time Ron didn't immediately flare up. He calmly observed Malfoy—the boy's right hand was still bandaged, clearly the result of their previous confrontation.

"We're done buying." Ron said calmly, pulling Hermionetowards the counter.

Malfoy, however, blocked their way: "Why the rush to leave? My father says you outsiders..." His voice trailed off as a flicker of unnatural red light flashed in Ron's eyes from the shadows.

The temperature in the apothecary seemed to drop suddenly. Malfoy unconsciously took a step back, cold sweat beading on his forehead. Just as the tension escalated, Jiggers, the apothecary owner, walked over.

"Children, if you're going to argue, take it outside."

Ron took the opportunity to pull Hermione out of the apothecary. Only when they reached the sunlight did Hermione let out a long breath: "What did you just do? Malfoy looked like he'd seen a ghost."

"Nothing." Ron said blandly, but he knew—though his Sharingan couldn't expose its abilities for now, its basic deterrent power still existed.

On the way back to the pub, Hermione remained thoughtful. As they passed a pet shop, she suddenly stopped: "Ron, what pet are you taking to school? The letter says you can bring an owl, cat, or toad."

Ron looked at the display window, where a pure black cat with amber eyes was staring at him. For some reason, it reminded him of the ninja cats in the Uchiha clan territory.

"I don't need a pet."

"But everyone should..." Hermione's words were interrupted by a flutter of wings. Night Feather descended from the sky, landing on Ron's shoulder, a gilded letter in its beak.

"It's it again!" Hermione looked at the raven in surprise, "What kind of bird is this, anyway?"

Ron took the letter, and the familiar Hogwarts crest wax seal came into view. But when he opened the envelope, besides a regular admission letter, there was also a jet-black feather—the Uchiha clan crest was embroidered at the base of the feather with extremely fine gold thread.

It was clearly Night Feather's tail feather, but why did it have a ping-pong paddle, just like the last one that fell off? Ron pondered silently as he looked at the letter.

"Ron? Is there anything special in your letter?" Hermioneleaned in curiously.

Ron quickly hid the feather in his sleeve: "Just the timetable." He changed the subject, "Have you decided what pet you're going to buy?"

Hermione's attention was indeed diverted, and she began to analyze the pros and cons of the three types of pets endlessly. Ron listened to her analysis, his fingers secretly caressing the feather—in this unfamiliar magic world, this might be his only connection to the past.

"Caw!" As if startled, Night Feather suddenly flew from Ron's shoulder and soared towards Hogwarts.

"Who cares... I'm no longer the Uchiha's top student now." Looking at the clear blue sky, Ron smiled, stroking Miss Chipmunk's curly hair, "All talk and no action is useless, why don't we go to the shop and pick one that catches your eye?"

Hermione swatted away the hand on her head, pouting reluctantly, "Forget it, the school has public owls, and I don't like toads, and the cats in the shop... I don't like any of them."

Ron's eyebrow twitched for a moment, and he looked at the small mountain of books beside him. Hermione, Hermione, even if you bought one less book, you'd have enough money for a pet, wouldn't you?

Chapter 8: The Hogwarts Train

September 1, 1991, King's Cross Station, London.

Hermione clutched her ticket nervously, her brown curly hair a little disheveled from running. "Are we really going to run into that wall?" she whispered, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes.

Ron pushed the luggage cart, his gaze sweeping over the bustling crowd on the platform. At the entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, the Weasley family was disappearing one by one into the brick wall. "Watch how they do it," he said calmly, noticing at the same time four black-haired teenagers standing scattered at the far end of the platform—they all carried brand new suitcases, and the dense crowd of young Wizards was divided into several sections, but the East Asian faces were still conspicuous in the crowd.

"Then I'll go first!" Hermione took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and rushed towards the dividing wall. Ron followed closely, and as he passed through the wall, he felt a slight dizziness—as if passing through a thin layer of ice.

The roar of the steam engine assailed them. The deep red Hogwarts Express spewed white mist, and the platform was crowded with Wizarding families seeing off their children. Ron's gaze swept over the crowd again, and the four black-haired teenagers were nowhere to be seen.

"Here!" Hermione waved from the doorway of an empty compartment. Just as Ron put down his luggage, he heard a familiar drawling voice from outside.

"Get out of the way... Mudblood."

Draco Malfoy, with Crabbe and Goyle, strutted down the corridor, a silver-green Slytherin badge pinned to his new school robes. He visibly flinched when he saw Ron, his right hand instinctively reaching for the bandage on his wrist.

"Let's switch compartments," Malfoy whispered to his cronies, the arrogance in his grey eyes turning to wariness.

Hermione looked curiously at their retreating figures: "He seems very afraid of you? What exactly happened in the apothecary that day?"

"Nothing," Ron changed the subject, taking out his "Magical Drafts and Potions" textbook from his bag. The scenery outside the window began to slowly recede as the train started.

About an hour later, the witch with the snack trolley knocked on the compartment door. Hermione bought a large pile of Chocolate Frogs, while Ron asked for a bag of Every Flavor Beans.

"Look!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, holding up a Wizard card, "This is Nicolas Flamel! The Chocolate Frog card says he's the greatest Alchemist of his time! They say he's lived for a very, very long time!"

Ron took the card, his clear blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles seeming to penetrate the paper. This kind of moving portrait was indeed very lifelike; Nicolas Flamel in the picture wore a thick Wizard's robe, and his kind and amiable smiling face would inadvertently make an uninformed person mistake him for an ordinary old man in pajamas.

"I'm going to the restroom," Ron said, standing up.

"Okay, you go, I'll review here for a while." Hermione once again showed her academic prowess, taking out "Theories of magic" from her large trunk and engrossing herself in it.

Groups of people gathered in twos and threes in the corridor. Ron walked forward through four compartments, and each time he passed a compartment, he could glimpse the back of one of the Asian teenagers on the platform.

"How strange, are Asian Wizards so common in Britain?" Pushing down the question in his heart, Ron walked towards the restroom again.

In the next two compartments, no East Asian faces were seen, and Ron's question was thus resolved from another angle. The return journey was also unusually calm; occasional conversations could be heard on the train, but otherwise, there was only the roaring steam engine, with no other noise.

Returning to the compartment, Hermione was about to get up and go out with a plump boy.

"Ron, you're back!"

"Neville's toad is missing," she stood up, tidied her robes, "Ron, do you want to come along?"

Ron was leaning by the window, his fingers gently caressing nightshade, and at her words, he raised his eyelids: "You go, I'll wait here."

Hermione pouted, pushed open the compartment door, and walked out. In the corridor, Neville Longbottom was anxiously peering through every window, muttering: "Where did Trevor go..."

"Don't worry, Neville," Hermione comforted, "Toads like damp places, let's look in the compartments further back."

The two searched along the way, and as they passed several compartments, Hermione heard whispers and laughter from inside. She didn't pay much attention until—

"Look who it is? The Longbottom family's good-for-nothing and his Muggle nanny."

Hermione whirled around, Draco Malfoy was leaning against the compartment door, a mocking smile on his pale face. Crabbe and Goyle stood behind him, blocking the way like two small mountains.

Neville's face instantly flushed red, his fingers tightly clutching the hem of his robes. Hermione frowned, stepping in front of him: "Move, Malfoy."

Malfoy exaggeratedly clutched his chest: "Oh, Miss Granger is angry? What, your Eastern bodyguard isn't with you?"

Hermione's chin lifted slightly: "I don't need anyone's help to deal with you."

Malfoy sneered, twirling his wand between his fingers: "Oh really? Then let's see how powerful a Muggle-born girl can be."

He suddenly waved his wand: "Tarantallegra!"

A red light shot directly at Hermione; she instinctively dodged, but the spell grazed her shoulder, and the cuff of her robe instantly twisted, as if being pulled by an invisible force. Hermione stumbled but quickly regained her footing, swiftly drawing her own wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Unfortunately, it wasn't skilled enough, otherwise, it would have been enough to give the little dragon a hard time.

Malfoy clearly hadn't expected her to fight back, his wand almost slipping from his hand. He flushed with anger, his face darkening: "Crabbe! Goyle! Grab her!"

The two large boys immediately lunged forward. Hermionestepped back, but Neville suddenly rushed forward, blocking her: "Don't, don't touch her!"

Malfoy laughed heartily: "Longbottom, you can't even keep track of your own toad, and you want to play hero?"

Just as Crabbe's hand was about to grab Neville's collar—

"Bang!"

The compartment door suddenly sprang open, slamming heavily into the back of Crabbe's head. He cried out in pain, stumbling and falling to his knees. Goyle froze for a moment, before he could react, a dark shadow had already flashed in front of him—

Ron's hand clasped his wrist, twisting it gently. Goylescreamed, and his entire body was thrown to the ground, like a fallen statue.

Malfoy's face instantly went pale: "You—!"

Ron stood in front of Hermione and Neville, his nightshadewand hanging by his side, his face devoid of any expression. But Hermione noticed that his eyes were faintly red in the shadows—just like that day in the apothecary.

"Malfoy," Ron's voice was very soft, yet it silenced the entire corridor, "You seem to enjoy causing trouble."

Malfoy's Adam's apple bobbed, but he quickly straightened his back again: "Who do you think you are? An Easterner who can't even pronounce his own surname—"

"Shut up."

Ron's wand suddenly lifted; Malfoy instinctively stepped back, but Ron didn't cast a spell. Instead, his finger flicked lightly, and a tiny metal piece accurately struck Malfoy's knee.

"Ah!" Malfoy cried out in pain, dropping to one knee.

"Next time you bother Hermione," Ron leaned in, his voice so low that only Malfoy could hear it, "I'll let you truly experience Eastern 'magic'."

Malfoy's pupils contracted, his lips trembling, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Hermione watched the scene, her heart beating a little faster. She tugged at Ron's sleeve: "Let's go, Neville's toad still hasn't been found."

Ron straightened up, gave Malfoy one last cold glance, then turned and followed Hermione and Neville.

At the end of the corridor, Neville whispered: "Th-thank you..."

Hermione shook her head: "Don't worry about it, Malfoy is just a bully."

Ron didn't say anything, just glanced out the window—Night Feather was skimming over the lake, flying towards Hogwarts Castle in the distance.

"Let's go," he said flatly, "We're almost there. If we wait much longer, you won't find your Trevor." With that, he walked towards the next compartment. Hermione smiled knowingly at this, only Neville still didn't understand Ron's meaning.

"Ron is just not good with words, come on! Let's go find your pet!"

Chapter 9 Distant Memory

The train continued its journey north, and the sky outside the window gradually darkened.

Ron walked ahead, nightshade spinning silently between his fingers, his gaze sweeping over the glass windows of compartment after compartment.

Hermione and Neville followed behind, occasionally peeking under the seats.

"Trevor! Trevor!" Neville cried out, his voice growing increasingly anxious.

Ron suddenly stopped, raising a hand to signal them to be quiet.

His Sharingan gleamed faintly in the shadows, catching a subtle splashing sound from ahead—coming from the lavatory at the end of the carriage.

"There," he pointed forward, "the lavatory."

As the three approached, they heard the sound of boys laughing from the compartment next to the lavatory.

Through the half-open door, Ron saw a black-haired boy with glasses and a red-haired boy sharing snacks.

The bespectacled boy wore round glasses taped at the bridge of his nose, and the emerald green eyes behind the lenses reminded Ron of some long-past memories.

"Could it be..." Combining this with the wax seal on the Hogwarts acceptance letter and that inexplicable sense of familiarity, Ron had a guess.

Hermione politely knocked on the door of the compartment next to the lavatory: "Excuse me, have you seen a toad?"

The red-haired boy looked up, his mouth still full of a Chocolate Frog: "No, but there seems to be something going on in the lavatory—"

"Ron!" The bespectacled boy nudged him with his elbow, then turned to the door a bit awkwardly, "Sorry, we haven't seen a toad."

Hermione's gaze fell on the boy's glasses: "Your glasses are broken."

"Uh, yes," the boy pushed up his glasses nervously, "when I fell down the stairs—"

"Reparo!" Hermione suddenly pulled out her wand, pointing it precisely at the glasses.

A golden flash later, the glasses were as good as new.

The red-haired boy—Ron's—mouth dropped open: "That... that's an advanced spell! First-years aren't supposed to know that!"

"I saw it in'Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1,'" Hermionesaid with ill-concealed pride in her voice, then realized her rudeness, "Oh, sorry, I'm Hermione Granger, and these are Ron and Neville."

"Harry Potter," the bespectacled boy said, then pointed to his companion, "This is Ron Weasley."

Hearing Harry announce his name, Ron's heart settled; his guess was true!

This world must be J.K. Rowling's work, the world of Harry Potter!

Then, for origin of heavenly power's path back to the Naruto world, it must be to defeat Voldemort in this world and achieve ultimate mastery!

Ron's Sharingan slowly rotated on its own.

He took a deep breath, finally suppressing the surging emotions in his heart.

Fortunately, the compartment door obscured him, and no one noticed his abnormality.

Just then, a faint "croak" came from the direction of the lavatory.

Neville immediately rushed over, with Ron close behind.

The lavatory was dimly lit, and the faucet dripped, forming a small puddle in the corner.

Trevor was comfortably soaking in the puddle, and when he saw Neville, he lazily croaked.

"Trevor!" Neville picked up the toad as if it were a treasure, tears almost streaming down his face.

Harry and Ron followed curiously, Ron scratching his head: "How did it get in here?"

Ron's gaze swept over the damp floor: "Toads like dark, damp places."

His Sharingan caught almost invisible traces of mucus on the floor, extending from the door to the corner.

"Thank you all!" Neville held the toad, thanking everyone.

Hermione looked at her watch: "We should go back and change into our robes; we'll be arriving soon."

"Wait," Harry suddenly asked, "do you know what the Sorting Ceremony is like? I heard we have to fight a Troll..."

Ron's face turned pale: "Fred said we have to cast a spell to defeat a mountain Troll..."

Hermione frowned: "Hogwarts: A History didn't mention that."

Ron watched the three of them converse, suddenly realizing this was a fated meeting point.

nightshade warmed slightly in his hand, as if reminding him of something.

"Sorting is very simple," Ron suddenly spoke, his voice calm, "a talking hat that will see into your heart."

Three pairs of eyes turned to him simultaneously; Harry's eyes held surprise and gratitude, Ron was half-skeptical, and Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

"How do you know?" Ron couldn't help but ask.

Ron's lips curved slightly: "I have my sources."

Just then, the train suddenly shook violently, and a dazzling flash of lightning streaked across the window.

Ron keenly noticed that Harry's lightning-bolt scar on his forehead appeared exceptionally clear in the lightning.

"It's going to rain," Hermione looked at the darkening sky outside the window, "we'd better go back and change."

They said goodbye to Harry and Ron and walked back down the corridor.

Neville walked ahead, holding Trevor, while Hermioneleaned close to Ron, lowering her voice to ask: "You really knew about the Sorting Ceremony? Why didn't you say so sooner?"

Ron glanced at her: "You prefer the Troll version?"

Hermione glared at him, annoyed, but couldn't help but smile when she saw the amusement in Ron's eyes.

Just then, Night Feather suddenly flew past the window, its dark feathers flashing in the rain.

Back in the compartment, Ron took out his school robes and put them on.

The soft, deep black robes made his skin appear even fairer.

Hermione had also changed and was tidying her bushy curly hair.

"Which house do you think we'll be sorted into?" she suddenly asked.

Ron fastened the last button: "Gryffindor suits you."

"What about you?"

Ron didn't answer immediately.

His gaze fell on Hogwarts Castle, gradually appearing outside the window, its spires faintly visible in the thunderstorm.

"Let the Sorting Hat decide," he finally said.

The train began to slow down, and the rain outside grew heavier.

Ron saw Harry and Ron emerge from the adjacent compartment, both with nervous and expectant faces.

When the train finally came to a stop, a booming voice pierced the rain: "First-years! This way!"

Ron followed the crowd off the train, nightshade vibrating slightly in his sleeve.

Night Feather landed on his shoulder, its blood-red eyes gleaming in the darkness.

In the pouring rain, Hagrid's colossal figure, holding a lantern, guided the first-years towards the boats by the lake.

Hermione whispered beside him, marveling: "It's so magical..."

Ron looked at the dark lake and the distant, majestic castle, and Uchiha Hua's last appearance inexplicably surfaced in his mind.

Just wait, Uchiha Itachi, this vengeance will surely be repaid!

He exhaled a turbid breath and strode towards the boat.

At this moment, Ron was once again the unrivaled head of the Uchiha clan!

Chapter 10: Night Walk on Black Lake

"Four to a boat!" Hagrid's booming voice echoed through the rain.

Ron looked at the swaying small boat before him, the dark lake surface rippling with countless tiny whirlpools from the raindrops.

Hermione was the first to jump into the boat, and the boat immediately rocked violently.

She let out a small shriek, instinctively grabbing the side of the boat, her brown curly hair plastered to her cheeks by the rain.

Harry and Ron exchanged hesitant glances; Chang had already lightly leaped onto the stern, nightshade having been tucked into his sleeve at some unknown point.

"Hurry up and get in." Chang reached out to steady the boat, water droplets dripping from his black hair.

Harry carefully stepped into the boat, with Ron following close behind.

When the weight of all four people was on the boat, it let out a groaning creak, but ultimately floated steadily on the water.

"Heads down!" Hagrid suddenly shouted.

Chang reacted the fastest, pressing down on Hermione's neck.

The four of them simultaneously ducked.

The small boat passed through the low-hanging vines, but they seemed to only brush against Hagrid; the young Wizards were too short to reach the height of the vines.

"Take your hand off me! It's so cold!" Hermione angrily slapped Chang's hand away, the water droplets on her neck glinting in the moonlight.

"It's very rude to ambush a girl when she's not paying attention!" Glaring at Chang, Hermione's gaze then swept towards the distance, her voice full of excitement and curiosity, "Look, everyone!"

When Harry looked up, his glasses were covered in water droplets, but he didn't have time to wipe them —

Hogwarts Castle suddenly appeared in their sight.

Countless spires pierced the rain, and brightly lit windows, like scattered stars, were reflected on the lake surface.

The highest spires of the castle were shrouded in mist, like the palace of a mythical Giant.

The rain turned into golden threads under the illumination of magic torches, enveloping the entire castle in a hazy glow.

"This..." Ron's mouth hung wide open, water droplets continuously rolling down his red hair.

Hermione's eyes reflected the castle's lights, like they were filled with stars: "It's even more magnificent than described in the books..."

Chang silently gazed at the castle.

In the Sharingan's vision, countless magic patterns were entwined around the castle — ancient protective spells enveloped the entire building like a spiderweb, and the magic concentration in certain areas even distorted space.

Such a powerful barrier, even the protective barrier on the outskirts of Konoha, would not be much better, right?

The small boat silently glided across the lake.

Harry suddenly whispered, "Do you think... the Sorting really just involves wearing a hat?"

"Of course," Hermione immediately replied, but Chang noticed her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her robe, "Hogwarts: A History mentions that the Sorting Hathas been around for nearly a thousand years."

Ron's face appeared even paler in the shadow of the castle: "George said that if you get sorted into Slytherin, you should apply to drop out immediately..."

The three of them looked at Ron in unison, "...Why are you staring at me? It's full of future Dark Wizards! Fred also told me that the the Malfoy family used to follow—"

The small boat suddenly rocked violently.

Chang's hand instantly gripped the side of the boat, and nightshade vibrated slightly in his sleeve.

Beneath the lake, a huge dark shadow slowly swam past.

"What is that?" Harry nervously stared at the water.

Hermione gasped, "It might be a Giant squid, or... a water monster?"

Chang's Sharingan captured the blurred outline of the underwater creature — it was definitely not an ordinary creature, but more like some kind of magic construct.

As its tentacles brushed against the bottom of the boat, a faint magical fluctuation emanated.

"Don't worry," he said calmly, "It's escorting us."

Indeed, the dark shadow quickly swam to the front of the boat, seemingly guiding the fleet forward.

The shore grew closer and closer, the shadow of the castleenveloped them, and the rain gradually lessened.

As the small boat docked, a stern female voice came from above: "Are all the first-year students here?"

Chang looked up.

Standing on the stone steps was a witch wearing square spectacles, her graying hair pulled back into a tight bun, and her emerald-green robes impeccable.

Her gaze swept over the drenched new students, pausing slightly when she saw Chang, then quickly returning to normal.

"I am Professor McGonagall," her voice was as stern as her expression, "Welcome to Hogwarts.

The start-of-term feast is about to begin, but before that, you need to be sorted into your respective Houses."

Anxious whispers broke out among the new students.

Chang noticed Hermione muttering something, her lips moving rapidly; Harry's fingertips unconsciously rubbed the scar on his forehead; Ron stared intently at the tips of his shoes.

"The Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin," Professor McGonagall continued, "During your time here, your House will be your home.

Good behavior will earn points for your House, and breaking school rules will result in points being deducted."

Her gaze suddenly sharpened: "The Sorting Ceremony is very important, so I advise you to..." She paused, "...tidy yourselves up."

With a flick of her wand, the water stains on the new students' clothes vanished instantly.

Hermione's curly hair became fluffy again, and Harry's glasses were no longer foggy.

Chang felt a warm current pass over his entire body, but the Sharingan automatically defended, isolating this magicfrom him.

Professor McGonagall seemed to notice something; her eyebrows rose slightly, but she quickly resumed her stern expression: "Now, line up in a single file and follow me."

The new students noisily began to queue up.

Hermione nervously tidied her robes, and Harry and Ronunconsciously huddled together.

Chang stood in the middle of the line, nightshade warming slightly in his sleeve.

Night Feather had flown from his shoulder at some unknown point, disappearing in the direction of the castle.

"Are you ready?" Hermione whispered, her eyes shining in the dim corridor.

Chang did not answer.

His Sharingan captured the whispers of the figures in the portraits on both sides of the corridor, as well as the hidden magic patterns on the walls.

This castle was even older and more mysterious than he had imagined.

Professor McGonagall stopped in front of two massive oak doors: "When your name is called, step forward and put on the Sorting Hat."

She looked around at everyone, "Remember, no matter which House you are sorted into, it represents Hogwarts' recognition of you."

The large doors slowly opened, and warm golden light and a cacophony of voices poured out.

Chang narrowed his eyes, seeing thousands of candles floating in the Great Hall, and four long tables filled with students.

"It's about to begin." Hermione's voice trembled slightly.

Chang nodded lightly.

In his vision, at the teachers' table at the end of the Great Hall, a silver-haired, long-bearded Wizard was smiling kindly.

Albus Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles, seemingly able to see into everyone's hearts.

Chang took a deep breath.

In this strange yet familiar world of magic, his new journey officially began.