As a Gryffindor, Ron was quite action-oriented.
Harry's invisibility cloak was with him, and since Harry himself had no use for it, Ron occasionally used it to sneak out for some fresh air.
He grabbed his twin brothers in the dormitory, carefully made a plan, and agreed that if Harry hadn't returned by 8 p.m., they would proceed with the original plan.
They waited until eight, but there was no sign of Harry.
Ron steeled himself.
Blood Mother Hell, let's do it!
Thinking this, he threw on the invisibility cloak and, after meeting up with his twin brothers in the common room, left the Gryffindor common room.
"You two," Lady Pang warned, "I hope you remember the password to return, or else if you disturb my rest, you know the consequences."
"Got it," the twins rolled their eyes, "sometimes we do miss when the Sphinx wasn't here as the door guard, at least back then you weren't so troublesome."
Before Lady Pang could retort, the twins slipped away laughing.
As the main executor of the plan, Ron clearly couldn't be exposed, and of course, the portrait of Lady Pang couldn't see through the disguise of the invisibility cloak.
If she had that capability, would she just hang on the wall as a portrait?
She'd probably be guarding the vault doors at Gringotts, opening her hardened, shining eyes to see who has the audacity to sneak into the vault wearing an invisibility cloak.
Ron carefully followed the steps, sneaking all the way to the edge of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
As the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts (except for the fifth year), Professor Umbridge naturally resided in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
And the Defense Against the Dark Arts office was within the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, right at the top of the steps.
He stood at the classroom door, waiting for the twins' move.
After waiting for about five minutes or so, just as Ron thought his twin brothers might be standing him up, suddenly a small firework exploded around the corner.
Immediately, the space at Professor Umbridge's door was filled with countless tiny, spectacular fireworks.
It was the Weasley Wildfire Whiz-bangs, invented by the twins themselves.
The sound of high heels clicked from behind the door, it was Professor Umbridge.
The door opened, and Ron saw the disgusting face of Professor Umbridge.
Before Professor Umbridge could react, a black bomb appeared in front of her.
"What is this?" Umbridge muttered to herself as she leaned in, only for the bomb to explode with a bang, revealing an even smaller bomb.
Umbridge's face, resembling a frost-covered lump, was blackened by the blast, and she spat out a puff of black smoke, glaring at the smaller bomb.
However, just as she pulled out her magic wand, she found that the bomb had seemingly grown legs and scuttled away.
As a Senior Investigator of Hogwarts, Umbridge naturally couldn't tolerate being mocked like this.
She stormed off after the bomb, determined to catch and give a proper lesson to the idiot daring to mess with her.
But just as she reached the corner, she felt like she stepped into a swamp.
Soon, her body began to sink.
Ron saw from a distance that Umbridge was trapped in a portable swamp, and he slipped into the classroom through the open door.
Ascending the steps, Ron pushed open the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
Speaking of which, Ron had visited the Defense Against the Dark Arts office several times before—when the previous three occupants had stayed there, Ron had visited multiple times.
During Gilderoy Lockhart's days there, the walls were plastered with smiling photos of himself—when Lady Vida Rozier stopped performing, the office of the Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts was redecorated in a very dignified manner, like a noblewoman's room—which made sense, as Lady Rozier herself was a noblewoman.
Ever since Lupin moved in, every visit there was the chance of encountering some very interesting sinister creature, caged or boxed.
When the imposter Moody resided here, the room was piled with all sorts of equipment and handmade items to detect others' misdeeds and hiding places.
Now, the room was entirely unrecognizable.
Everything was draped with lace covers and cloths, with several vases filled with dry flowers, each resting on its own little mat.
On one wall hung a set of decorative plates, each plate featuring a brightly colored big cat, each with a different bow around its neck.
It was all so nauseating, Ron was genuinely disgusted, staring at them in a daze.
"What is this supposed to be?" he muttered under his breath, "Such a cat lover... Oh, truly the traditional old witch stereotype, absolutely revolting—"
Alright, Ron had preemptively defined... a certain unspeakable group before some detective.
He forced himself to stop looking at those cat-patterned plates and instead searched Umbridge's desk.
This?
No, it was a photo album of cats...
This one? Not that either; it was Umbridge's teaching notes.
Just one glance made Ron feel like another look would make him explode.
This is what passes for a professor?
Ron felt that he could do just as well.
What about this one? He pulled out a drawer, finding photo frames of Umbridge posing with dirty cats.