The person is at Hogwarts, but the system is in Middle-earth!

The vow made in the Hufflepuff common room did not fade away with the dying embers of the fireplace. Instead, it took root and sprouted in Rowe's heart like a seed.

For the next two weeks, Rowe faithfully kept his promise, or rather, he extended it. He not only kept a close watch on Susan's safety (to the point that he recently had to "escort" her to the greenhouse), but also listed Harry as a priority for protection. After all, in Rowe's judgment, Harry, as a "Ringbearer," could be targeted again by the Eye of Sauron lurking in the shadows at any time.

November has arrived.

At the Gryffindor long table, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sighing and discussing how to evade Filch's surveillance. Ever since the cat was petrified, Filch had been acting like a madman, wanting nothing more than to lock every student who breathed too loudly in the dungeon.

"He's staring at me again," Harry whispered, pretending to cut a baked potato on a plate. "Right behind the door."

"Relax, Harry."

A familiar voice rang out, and Rowe, carrying a tray, naturally sat down next to Harry. This had become the norm lately, euphemistically called "close protection."

After scanning the hall closely, Lowe lowered his voice and said, "That's his reverence for the strong. In Middle-earth, only the most powerful wizards inspire fear in the common people. Filch is simply afraid of the... power within you."

Harry gave a wry smile: "I think he just wants an excuse to expel me."

Just then, a blast of cold air suddenly pierced through the long table, and the previously warm air suddenly dropped several degrees.

The clueless Nick rose up from under the floor, passing right through the chicken leg Ron had just picked up, instantly coating the chicken leg with a layer of white frost.

"Oh, Nick!" Ron complained, throwing away the chicken leg with disgust. "I'll have to go get another one."

"Sorry, dear Ron." Nick waved cheerfully, his wrinkled collar looking unusually sharp today. He turned to Harry and Rowe, a reserved yet expectant smile on his face. "I was just looking for you. This Halloween marks my five-hundredth birthday."

"Five hundred years old?" Harry was somewhat surprised. "That's...a very old age."

"Yes, five hundred years old." Nick puffed out his chest. "I'm hosting a party in the underground classroom. If you don't mind, I'd like to invite you."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, both of them filled with terror.

Attending a party of ghosts?! That's definitely worse than Lockhart's class.

"Uh, Nick, we might..." Harry was just about to find an excuse to refuse, such as helping Lockhart reply to fans that night (although that was also a nightmare, at least it was a nightmare for the living).

"We would be honored, Sir."

A serious and formal response interrupted Harry.

Lowe put down his knife and fork, stood up, and gave Nick a standard hand-on-breast salute. His eyes were as eager as those of a Minas Tirith guard who had just learned that reinforcements from Gondor were about to arrive.

[Quest Triggered: The Gathering of the Dead]

[Objective: Attend the anniversary celebration for the deceased and make contact with the forces of the dead]

[Intelligence Analysis: Ghosts have roamed the castle for centuries; they are the best scouts. Perhaps we can learn the truth about the "ancient evil" from them. Perhaps... like Aragorn, we can forge some kind of pact with it.]

"Really?" Nick looked at Rowe with surprise, clearly not expecting anyone to agree so readily. "That's wonderful! I thought you guys would think... well, boring."

"How could it be boring?" Luo Wei said righteously. "It's a historic meeting. The living and the dead gather together to exchange views on eternity and glory. This is a romance that only the wise can understand."

Harry and Ron stared wide-eyed, though they were used to Rowe's eccentricities. They had clearly underestimated him.

"Since Rowe is going..." Harry sighed helplessly. He was too embarrassed to refuse Nick when Rowe was so "supportive." "Then let's go too."

"That's fantastic!" Nick exclaimed, nearly dropping his head off his neck in excitement. "I'll send you invitations! This is going to be an unforgettable night!"

After saying that, he hummed a little tune and drifted away.

"Are you crazy?" Ron shouted as soon as Nick was out of sight. "That's a death anniversary party! Do you know what's there? Moldy food! Cold air! And hundreds of dead people!"

"And it's on Halloween night," Hermione said, closing her book. "We'll miss the school party. I heard they'll have special bat lollipops at this year's Halloween party."

Rowe sat down again: "This is more than just a party, Ron."

"Haven't you noticed? Darkness is returning to the castle. The spiders are fleeing, and Lady Lorris has been petrified... We need information."

"And who knows the secrets of this castle best?" Rowe pointed in the direction Nick had disappeared. "Those omnipresent, wall-walking ghosts. They've seen things we can't. This party is a reconnaissance mission."

Hermione paused for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully. "It still sounds crazy... but it does make logical sense. Ghosts might indeed know something."

"If..." Rowe changed the subject, a hint of longing on his face, "if we're lucky, we might even meet the legendary leader of the 'Army of the Dead.' If we could get their help, our chances of defeating Sauron would be much greater."

"Love," Hermione rolled her eyes, "you're going to eat rotten sandwiches, not go to war."

Luo Wei did not refute, but simply smiled slightly.

"Get your formal attire ready, gentlemen." Rowe picked up a pumpkin pie. "This is going to be a memorable diplomatic event."

The rain intensified over the next few days.

Rowe did not lower his guard because of the upcoming "diplomatic activities." On the contrary, every morning he would put on a yellow cloak and do high-intensity physical training in the mud outside the castle.

"What is he doing?"

Looking out of the window of the Gryffindor Tower, Ron stared at Rowe, who was running wildly in the rain and occasionally waving his wand at the air, with a puzzled expression.

"He's adapting to the environment," Harry said, wiping his glasses, his tone complicated. "He said that if we were ever forced to march through swamps, every drop of sweat we shed now would be a lifesaver."

"He's a... weirdo." Ron shook his head, but for some reason, looking at that figure persisting in the rain, the fear in his heart seemed to fade a little.

In the shadows of the castle, the fleeing spiders grew ever longer. Each time Rowe passed by, he would stop and gaze at the panicked little creatures.

[Animal Instinct: Escaping Predators]

[Countdown: ???]