"Death is like the wind—always by my back."
"The road is long, and my only companion is the sword."
"So let me ride the swift wind forward…"
"Even burdened with the sins of a ghostslayer…"
"I have never lost my true self."
"There are three things one must go through in life: happiness, happiness, and more happiness."
"Maybe a leaf's entire life is just for the sake of joy?"
In that instant, Jon felt it—as if he were plunged into a blood-soaked canyon.
He had become an unyielding Ionian warrior, a nimble, wind-wielding swordsman… Longsword in hand, he moved with the wind, dancing through the blood and storm atop the canyon. The wind left no trace, and the sword, no sound.
One by one, the stubborn minions fell gracefully beneath his blade; again and again, the gray screen of death couldn't stop his advance.
Even though the enemy had taken the high ground. Even though his teammates whispered empty flattery. Even though his glaring 0/20/0 score was right there…
"Glory lives in the heart, not in outward form."
"My original resolve—I will never forget."
He muttered, "As long as I E fast enough, my teammates' pings can't catch me…"
...
Jon Hart opened his eyes and snapped out of the illusion—false, yet so real.
For a moment, a strange emotion swirled in his mind...
A joy born from within—unstoppable, untouchable joy...
He raised his emerald bamboo wand and pointed it at the open space before him.
"Expecto Patronum!"
This time, his voice rang with absolute confidence—no hesitation, no doubt.
A brilliant silver light flared from the tip of his wand.
The entire room was wrapped in its glow, filling the space with warmth.
Then, a massive silver shadow burst forth… slowly beginning to take form.
Jon's legs suddenly buckled, and his wand hand started to tremble… The silver stream kept flowing from the wand, and the shape of the Patronus grew clearer and clearer.
He gritted his teeth, refusing to let fatigue break the spell.
At last, the wand stopped glowing, and the silver shadow slowly began to shrink.
Smaller and smaller… until it became the size of Professor McGonagall's Animagus form.
It looked like a baby bear, but its fur had clearly defined dark and light patches.
Tiny, yet round and plump, with a wide head and short tail… it waddled over to Jon's feet, wrapped its little arms around his calf, and licked him affectionately.
Almost like it was being coy!
In that moment, Jon could actually feel… something brushing against his calf. Ticklish, gentle—definitely not a hallucination.
"Woo… woo… woo…" the Patronus made a strange cry.
There was no doubt left in Jon's mind—his Patronus was an Iron-Eating Beast cub.
In other words, a baby panda.
"Stop clinging to me!" Jon said firmly.
The Patronus whined softly, then reluctantly let go of his leg.
At his command, it slowly began to walk toward the balcony… Jon wanted to test how well he could control it.
Too bad there were no Dementors or Boggarts around. Otherwise, he could've tested the power of this 4X-class magical creature Patronus.
But with every step the Patronus took, Jon felt something draining out of him… His legs grew weak again, and his arms started to tremble.
Just guiding the Patronus was draining him this much?
Jon felt his control slipping… Shivering, he tried to dismiss it.
But then—something unexpected happened.
"Bang!" A deafening blast shook the room.
The Patronus exploded, bursting into a shower of silver light that rushed back into Jon's emerald bamboo wand.
The shockwave hurled him back against the wardrobe!
"Damn it—magical overload! Jon growled.
This was the first time in his life he had lost control of his magic.
"Why did no one tell me Patronuses could explode?!"
He looked over—the balcony was wrecked, a massive hole blown in the wall.
"This is bad… real bad!"
...
The situation was dire now.
That explosion had been loud enough for everyone—except the deaf—to hear.
Sure enough, hurried footsteps echoed outside; hotel staff and guests from the nearby rooms were rushing over.
What now?
If he were anywhere else, he might be able to make up a story, pay for the damage, and bluff his way through… But this place was less than 100 yards from the Leaky Cauldron. The witches and wizards in Diagon Alley must've heard the blast too.
What if some nosy wizard—or worse, someone from the Ministry—decided to investigate?
He'd be caught in the act.
Underage magic. In front of Muggles.
Either charge alone was enough to land him in Azkaban!
"Mr. Urien, open the door!" came the maid's voice from outside.
"There's no response—what if he's hurt? Break it down!" a man shouted.
Jon suddenly realized something even worse…
He had always shown himself in this hotel as "Anduin Urien"—but right now, he was in his true form, no disguise.
Drink the Polyjuice Potion? No time. It took about a minute to transform—and during that time, wizards were extremely vulnerable. If they busted the door down and caught him mid-transformation, it would be even worse.
One small piece of good news—he had already packed all his belongings into his large-capacity backpack while preparing for the maid to clean.
There was only one way out now…
Jon slung the bag over his shoulders, grabbed his wand, and ran toward the hole in the balcony wall.
He was small enough to fit through without issue.
But there was a problem—his room was on the 14th floor. And across from the balcony… was just a four-story flat.
Ten stories down.
Jon took a deep breath—then jumped.
As he flew through the air, he recalled Professor Flitwick's words from class:
"Swish and flick…"
He aimed his wand at the ground and whispered,
"Wingardium Leviosa!"