Rayleigh wrapped his hand around the chipped Horadric Cube.
It felt cold to the touch, its metallic texture remarkably authentic.
He didn’t immediately set about testing it; after all, his current gear consisted entirely of bottom-tier junk, holding zero synthesis value.
“Potion,” Rayleigh said succinctly.
Akara handed over a vial of bubbling red liquid.
Without a second thought, Rayleigh threw his head back and downed it in one gulp.
A wave of warmth instantly spread throughout his body.
A ticklish, soothing sensation washed over the wound on his back, and the lingering pain faded rapidly into nothingness.
“Heading back.” He waved at Akara, and with a single thought, his entire form dissolved into a beam of white light, vanishing from the realm.
…
When he opened his eyes again, the familiar ceiling met his vision.
The Gryffindor boys’ dormitory.
Rayleigh kipped up out of bed and stretched.
The pain in his back was entirely gone, replaced by a refreshed sense of lightness.
He glanced out the window; dawn was just breaking.
In the adjacent bed, Seamus Finnigan turned over, muttering something in his sleep.
Looks like everyone was about to wake up.
Rayleigh glanced at the clock on his nightstand, the hands pointing to a heartbreaking hour.
Great.
No time to catch up on sleep.
He let out a sigh, his only comfort being that their first class this morning was History of Magic.
Professor Binns’s class was a blessed cure for insomniacs, Hogwarts’ official sanctuary for catching up on sleep.
Rayleigh took a quick shower, changed into clean robes, and prepared to head down to the Great Hall to satisfy his stomach.
Just as he pushed open the dormitory door, he found two people blocking the exit of the common room.
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
“Rayleigh!
You’re awake!” Ron beamed at the sight of him, waving enthusiastically.
Harry offered him a somewhat bashful smile as well.
“We were waiting to go down for breakfast together.” Rayleigh felt his temples throb.
Move around with these two, who carried spotlight attraction wherever they went?
Give me a break!
Right now, he just wanted to eat his meal in peace and quiet, then head to History of Magic to meet the Sandman.
“You guys go ahead, I’ve got something to take care of,” Rayleigh tried to make an excuse to slip away.
“Oh, come on!” Ron threw an arm around his shoulders with surprising strength.
“We’re brothers who’ve faced death together!
We have to go together!” Harry nodded vigorously beside him, clearly agreeing with Ron’s sentiment.
Sandwiched between these two overly enthusiastic boys, Rayleigh couldn’t find a single opening to break free and was practically dragged toward the Great Hall.
He groaned inwardly.
*Fantastic.
So much for keeping a low profile today.* Sure enough.
The moment the three of them stepped side-by-side into the Great Hall— *BOOM!* A deafening wave of cheers and applause erupted from the Gryffindor table.
Countless students stood up from their seats, whistling and clapping frantically toward them.
The grand spectacle left all three of them completely bewildered.
Harry and Ron stood frozen on the spot, looking thoroughly lost.
Rayleigh recovered quickly, his gaze sweeping over the crowd to pinpoint the source of the commotion.
The Weasley twins, Fred and George, were standing on top of the long table, gesturing wildly as they led the crowd like a pair of frantic orchestral conductors.
Between the two of them sat Hermione Granger, her face beet-red, looking as if she desperately wanted to bury her head under the table.
Rayleigh understood instantly.
“Come!
Let us welcome!” Fred shouted at the top of his lungs.
“—Gryffindor’s heroes who vanquished the troll!” George seamlessly finished the sentence.
The twins leapt down from the table, grabbed Rayleigh and the other two without asking, and pushed them right into the most prominent seats at the long table.
“Heroes!
Heroes!
Heroes!” The Gryffindor table boiled over with excitement, cheer after cheer rising in waves, forming a stark contrast to the dead-silent atmosphere over at the Slytherin table.
Draco Malfoy sat among the Slytherin crowd, his eyes fixed on Harry—who was surrounded by the admiring crowd—with a mix of contempt and jealousy, his mouth twisted into a disdainful sneer.
After a brief moment of shock, Ron puffed out his chest, chin raised slightly, soaking in the unprecedented attention he had never experienced in his life.
The smugness on his face was practically spilling over.
It wasn’t until Professor McGonagall swept her stern gaze across the hall that the chaos finally drew to a close.
The students sat down one after another, though they continued to whisper excitedly, pointing toward Rayleigh’s group from time to time.
Rayleigh couldn’t care less about any of it.
He was starving, grabbing toast and sausages from the table and stuffing them into his mouth.
As he wolfed down his food, he nudged Hermione with his elbow.
Hermione was keeping her head low, sipping her pumpkin juice in tiny delicate swallows, wearing a firm expression of *I don’t know these people*.
Feeling the nudge, she looked up in confusion.
Rayleigh gestured with his chin toward the opposite side of the table.
Hermione followed his motion, only to see Ron surrounded by a group of younger Gryffindors, boasting loudly about last night’s “heroic exploits” with spit flying everywhere.
“…Right then, that troll swung its massive club down!
I dodged it with a quick side-step!
Then Harry jumped onto its neck, and I seized the moment, yelling ‘*Wingardium Leviosa*’ right at it!
And guess what?
That huge wooden club just floated right up, and then *BLAM!* It came crashing down right onto its own head!
Bullseye!” Hermione’s face flushed even redder.
She slapped a hand over her forehead in despair, feeling far too embarrassed to show her face.
Rayleigh, on the other hand, watched the show with great relish, even taking the time to give Ron a round of applause.
The noisy breakfast finally came to an end.
Next up was the History of Magic class Rayleigh had been looking forward to.
The moment he stepped into the classroom, he found a seat toward the back, fully prepared for what was to come.
However, before he could even drift off to sleep after lying down, he was shaken awake by a firm hand.
“Rayleigh!
What are you doing!
We’re in class!” Hermione kept her voice low, though the shock and displeasure in her tone were unmissable.
She couldn’t comprehend how someone who spent every single day in the library could sleep during a lesson.
“Sleeping, what else?” Rayleigh shifted positions, intending to carry on.
“You can’t!
Professor Binns’s class is very important!
You’re going to miss so many key points!” Hermione shook him relentlessly.
“All those key points are in the library, and in far better detail,” Rayleigh mumbled with his eyes closed.
“Let me sleep a bit, I didn’t sleep well last night.” Hermione wanted to say more, but seeing Rayleigh’s immovable posture, she eventually gave up in frustration.
She pulled out her parchment and quill and began taking rapid, detailed notes, intending to debate the matter with Rayleigh after class.
An entire period slipped by swiftly in Rayleigh’s dreams.
The moment the bell rang, his eyes snapped open, perfectly refreshed.
“Here!” A notebook filled with neat, dense handwriting was slammed onto his desk.
Hermione stood before him with a stern expression.
“These are the notes I took.
Copy them out.
And you can’t sleep in class anymore!
If you fall asleep, you won’t even know what homework the professor assigned!” Rayleigh took the notebook and flipped through it casually.
The handwriting was elegant and meticulously organized.
“Thanks,” he said, closing the notebook and tucking it into his bag before speaking in a relaxed tone.
“Though I wasn’t planning on doing the homework anyway, so knowing what was assigned doesn’t really matter.” “You!” Hermione was choked up by his unabashed, warped logic, her chest heaving with indignation.
“How can you be like this!
You’re going to fail!” “I won’t.” Rayleigh stood up and walked toward the door.
Though Hermione was annoyed, she stomped her foot and quickly caught up with him.
Even though last night’s troll incident had turned her into true friends with Harry and Ron, Rayleigh was a friend she had known since the beginning of term, and the two shared a mutual “passion” for visiting the library.
“Where are you going?” “The library.” Hearing that answer, half of Hermione’s anger dissipated.
At least he still remembered to study.
The two walked side by side toward the library.
This time, Rayleigh had a crystal-clear goal.
He was going to search for a spell he had previously held in total contempt—the Fire-Making Spell, *Incendio*.
In the past, he felt that having an instant, silent, and highly controllable spell like Fire Bolt rendered Hogwarts’ fiery spells—which required waving a wand and shouting incantations—utterly useless.
Now, however, he had changed his mind.
He was already under Dumbledore’s radar.
Using Fire Bolt recklessly would sooner or later draw unwanted trouble.
He needed a disguise.
And *Incendio* was the perfect cover.
As long as he waved his wand and chanted “*Incendio*” whenever he cast Fire Bolt, who could possibly tell where that ball of flame really came from?
This was a reflection he had arrived at only this morning.
Previously, he had maintained a dismissive attitude toward the magic of the Harry Potter world.
He had stubbornly believed that only the spells from the Diablo universe were his true foundation for survival in this world.
Until the fight against Corpsefire.
If it hadn’t been for a casual joke made by a professor during class, it would have been impossible for him to defeat that elite monster at his current stage using such a clever trick.
He realized he had been wrong.
The magic of this world was far from useless.
Every spell had its own unique value.
He had to shift his mindset.
Beyond learning *Incendio* as a cover, he needed to put genuine effort into mastering truly useful charms.
The Shield Charm, the Impediment Jinx, the Stunning Spell, the Disarming Charm…
These would all become indispensable parts of his combat arsenal.
Surviving, and living well—that was what mattered most.