Chapter 44: Neville, the Boy Who Survived Many Disasters
After shaking his head, Alexander returned to his original train of thought without anyone noticing.
Even though he'd been lost in thought earlier, he still followed Kate around the castle. The shift in memory and mental focus didn't seem to affect his awareness at all.
By now, they had reached the fourth floor. It felt like stepping into another world. The entire level had clearly been solidified using the Traceless Extension Charm, and its design clashed starkly with the rest of the castle.
According to the plan, this floor was supposed to be part of the tour on the second day. Clearly, the designer was familiar with the Muggle world. The entire floor was filled with climbable rock walls that looked natural at a glance.
They were massive—some stretching up to hundreds of meters high. In fact, the only way to reach the fifth floor was to climb these walls.
Unlike in the Muggle world, there were no safety ropes. But the ground itself had been enchanted as a perfect, reusable "safety net." You could climb as much as you wanted and even fall without fear of injury, thanks to protective spells cast on the floor.
"Mr. Smith, Ms. Kate, if you're in a hurry to get to the fifth floor, there's a smaller wall—just two meters high—in that corner," Salvatore explained helpfully. "It's much easier to climb."
Kate, who wasn't particularly eager to see dragons, was completely enchanted by the fourth floor.
Seeing her enthusiasm, Salvatore clapped his hands and a bar materialized in the center of the floor. It was stocked with various drinks—water and tea were free, while everything else cost extra.
Both Galleons and Muggle currency were accepted. Alexander rolled his eyes privately.
Salvatore then tactfully excused himself to the third floor to "rest in his coffin," giving the two of them some alone time. Before leaving, he added a reminder: placing the correct amount of currency on the bar would automatically light up the corresponding drink. You could simply grab it, and change would be refunded.
Alexander was pretty sure the guy got a commission from drink sales.
In his past life, he'd never tried rock climbing. Natural climbing was dangerous, and artificial walls cost money—something student life didn't often allow. But now, here was his chance.
Even without his "light bulb" enhancement, Alexander still had the physique of an ordinary human, which made the climb more interesting.
"Wahoo!" Kate shouted gleefully as she climbed ten meters up and then leapt off with a backflip.
Apparently, this floor wasn't just for climbing—free-falling seemed to be part of the fun. No wonder the bar was placed dead center—to avoid people crashing into it while falling.
Kate was like a monkey. All afternoon, she swung and leapt, her delighted cries echoing through the floor. Ten meters, twenty meters, even the hundred-meter-high wall—she climbed and jumped like it was nothing.
Curiosity finally got the better of Alexander, and he started climbing too.
He tackled the 100-meter wall on the right. As he climbed, Kate—now just a black dot below—sipped water and rested.
Ten meters up, the ground below was obscured by magical clouds. His hands grew damp from the enchanted mist, and he found the view less exciting than expected. Having already escaped the pull of gravity, such things no longer impressed him.
Still, he climbed to the top. As he reached it, a door materialized in the air above. He opened it—it led to the fifth and final floor.
Alexander closed the door behind him and let go, falling in a relaxed, lying-down position.
Wind roared past his ears as he fell through the clouds. After about five seconds, he landed softly—as if he'd been lying on the ground the whole time. It was both jarring and seamless.
Then a thought popped into his head: If Neville had jumped here, would his magic have awakened early? Would his family have stopped thinking he was a Squib?
Uncle Algie had tried everything—like pushing Neville into Black Lake—to awaken his magic. It wasn't until Neville was eight that his family finally acknowledged him as a wizard. Coincidentally, Neville's birthday was July 7th—one day before Harry's and his own.
In fact, Neville had shown signs of magic as a baby—like wrapping himself tighter in his blanket—but no one had noticed. The midwife had just assumed it was his father's doing.
And with his parents tortured into madness by Death Eaters, Neville had grown up under the stern expectations of Augusta Longbottom, his grandmother. She constantly reminded him that his parents didn't suffer for him to become a disappointment.
Neville's self-esteem was even lower than Harry's. Augusta often said he was "a good boy, but nowhere near as talented as his father."
Neville was also a Boy-Who-Lived—just in his own tragic way.
When he was eight, Uncle Algie once hung him by the ankles from a window. Then, distracted by Aunt Enid's egg-white cake, he let go—and Neville bounced across the garden to land safely on the road.
Unbelievable. Pure-bloods really did value magical talent over physical safety. Then again, physical injuries were easy to heal for wizards. Maybe that's why a reckless sport like Quidditch even existed.
Thankfully, Neville's tough years ended by age eight.
Alexander sighed and walked to the bar. Kate's face was still flushed with excitement. After a cup of black tea, the two began to chat.
"Kate, when did you first discover your magic talent?" Alexander asked curiously.
"Hmm... I think I was five? I cut my dad's beard right in front of him, and he didn't even notice," she replied, frowning in thought.
"How do you know he wasn't just distracted?"
"Hmph! I did it right in front of him—while he was eating!" Kate said, blushing.
It was clearly a point of pride for her. She was a born assassin. Given her knowledge about vampire hunting, Alexander had to ask.
"Kate, was your ancestor a vampire hunter?"
"What? A vampire hunter? Only half-vampires do that! Although... it does sound cool."
"Our family are wizards! We don't need to do anything. Wizards can live independently!" she huffed.
Alexander laughed awkwardly. That was true—wizards didn't need jobs to survive. With magic, they could provide everything themselves. No wonder the Ministry of Magic often felt so invisible.
A wizarding family with a real profession—like Ollivander's wandmakers—was a rarity.
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