I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 107 Granger, Completely Fooled

"To increase our chances of success, we contacted three different professors!"

"Harry, go find Professor Flitwick. Ron, go find Professor Sprout." Hermione scooped up large clumps of soup with a long-handled spoon and poured them into each glass.

Then, the tasks were simply assigned.

"And yours?" Ron asked defiantly. "You weren't hiding here, were you?"

"No!" She rolled her eyes at Ron, then said, "I'm going to find Professor Dumbledore!"

"Dumbledore?"

"Aren't you afraid he'll see through you? That's Dumbledore!" Ron stared wide-eyed at Hermione in disbelief. "My mother says he can see right through people."

Is she really that brave?

How come I never noticed this before?

"Be careful, just a few simple questions should be fine. Besides—" Hermione smiled, "even if the headmaster suspects something, how would he possibly think it's me?"

"Can a second-year wizard brew a compound potion?" She raised her head slightly, smugly.

Even adult wizards and pharmacists might not be able to successfully brew this kind of potion, but she succeeded on her first try!

"Oh—that's very bold!" Harry raised his hand. "But I have a question!"

"explain!"

"But Owen is a boy! Hermione—are you okay?" Harry asked, his expression a little awkward.

Then—the next second, he was silenced by Hermione's icy gaze and dared not say another word.

If you like it, that's fine.

Harry lowered his head and remained silent.

Then, the soup in the hands of the three people made a loud sizzling sound, like a pot of boiling water, and vigorously foamed.

A second later, it turned into an unsightly yellowish-brown.

The three of them took out a few strands of black hair.

In the magic tutoring class, Owen routinely beat up the young wizards, which always involved some physical contact. Harry, quick as a flash, grabbed a few sticks and then fell to the ground.

Pretend to be knocked down.

Irving, whose adrenaline was surging, didn't seem to feel any pain.

So no one noticed him.

"I risked my life for this," Harry said, still shaken, as he parted his hair with Hermione and Ron.

If this gets out, he'll definitely be killed by Irving.

"Alright, just add it in!" Hermione said impatiently. Why are these two so long-winded?

Then she took the lead and threw her hair into the compound decoction.

The cup in my hand made a hissing sound, bubbles rose, and the yellow, earthy-looking potion kept churning upwards.

Then it gradually became clear, as if the water was squeezing out the oil.

Gradually, the earthy yellow turned into a pale silvery-gray, dim, eerie, and cold. Like the moon hanging over Hogwarts at night.

"Looks pretty good." Ron shook the potion in his hand, quite surprised.

Hermione had previously mentioned that Polyjuice Potion reveals a person's soul; the darker and more evil a person is, the more disgusting and filthy their soul will be, and the more foul and unsightly their potion will be.

However, considering that Owen is actually a girl, it's actually quite normal for his potions to be so clear.

Outwardly flamboyant, inwardly soft-hearted.

Ruthless in methods, but kind in reality.

Just like the heroines in the novels my mother reads.

Ron shook his head, looking like he was the only one sober in a world of drunks, which made Hermione's eyelids twitch.

This guy—he definitely has some secret he hasn't told her yet!

Perhaps she should consider developing a truth serum formula.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"alright."

"So——"

The group quickly swallowed the potion. It tasted a bit like unsweetened black tea, slightly bitter but with a plant-like aroma.

The next moment, their internal organs began to boil, as if they had swallowed several live snakes.

A burning sensation swept through my entire body.

Then, bubbles rose to the surface of the skin like hot wax. Reorganization, change.

The stinging sensation came and went quickly; in an instant, all the pain stopped.

Inside the cubicle, the three of them looked exactly the same.

"Unbelievable," a voice rang out.

But the three people, who had the same face and voice, couldn't tell who was speaking.

"Merlin's beard! I've become Owen!" another person said.

"Alright, enough nonsense. The potion will probably only last for an hour," a third voice said.

"Let's go quickly." With that, one of them, Owen, who was wearing a red Gryffindor dress, stood up.

He glanced at his outfit, a slight embarrassment on his face. To cover it up, he quickly pulled out his wand and tapped it lightly. Instantly, the skirt turned into pants.

The other two also guessed Irving's identity, but neither of them dared to laugh out loud.

You're joking, you'll get beaten up.

And you'll get beaten up really badly.

The three ran out of the girls' restroom and parted ways at the top of the marble spiral staircase.

the other side.

The banquet in the auditorium was also coming to an end.

Many of the young wizards have already left.

Hannah, who was teasing two magical creatures at the Hufflepuff table, suddenly snapped back to reality.

"Where's Irving?" she asked Justin, puzzled.

"Him?" Justin rubbed his bulging belly and let out a burp. "While you were being bewitched by these two little ones, Professor Dumbledore called him away."

"Oh~" Hearing this, she slowly picked up the two little cuties on the table and got up to return to the Hufflepuff common room.

Just as she stepped out of the auditorium and onto the steps of the spiral staircase...

A familiar figure bumped into her.

"Owen." Hannah's eyes lit up, and she happily walked over, holding the two magical creatures.

"Is your conversation with Dumbledore over?"

"Uh? Well—it's over." A hint of confusion flashed in Owen's eyes, but he quickly suppressed it and replied calmly.

"That's great, we can go back together. I mean, isn't there some mysterious person at school? The professors don't allow young wizards to wander around alone." With an excuse she herself didn't believe, Hannah handed the magical creature back to Owen, trying to cover something up.

Still half asleep, Sirocco lazily raised his head, glanced at Hannah and Owen with a puzzled look, and meowed twice.

Then, without doing anything else, she obediently nestled in Owen's arms and continued sleeping. (Sirocco Moa)

The other dragon, Bakal, was rather agitated, hissing at Owen with his small head, and occasionally, flames would burst from his mouth.

The scene was somewhat chaotic. Hannah quickly stroked Bakal's little head and then looked at Owen with a calm but slightly puzzled expression.

Everything was fine just now.

How did it turn out like this in such a short time?

"It's alright," Owen waved his hand, a gentle smile on his face.

His eyes were filled with deep affection for his friends.

That look sent a shiver down Hannah's spine.

This reminded her of his fearless figure in that underground training ground a year ago.

As she sipped the honey, she didn't realize that Owen was cautiously taking a step back. "Um, there's something I forgot to tell Professor Dumbledore," he said.

"You guys go back first!" Then she turned around and ran away as if she were running wildly.

That figure, though seemingly fleeing in disarray, carried a hint of dishevelment.

Hannah stood frozen in place, staring in the direction he had disappeared.

He muttered to himself, "He's a bit strange."

"He wasn't strange that day," Justin retorted from beside him.

"No—I mean, never mind, it won't change your mind." Hannah sighed, turned and walked in the opposite direction from Owen, towards the other side of the spiral staircase.

"That was close."

Wearing Owen's disguise, Hermione ran guiltily all the way to the eighth floor, where she was now leaning against the wall, panting heavily.

She had no idea how Owen and Hannah usually talked, and was afraid that saying too much would give her away.

So she chose to flee in a panic, not even returning the Silok she was holding.

"Huh? Owen, what are you doing here?" Suddenly an old voice came.

Hermione was startled and dropped the sherry she was holding.

He turned his head stiffly, only to see Professor Dumbledore, slightly tipsy after a few glasses of butterbeer, suddenly appear from around the corner.

How could the principal do that?

She swore there was no one in that duel just now.

The old headmaster looked at Sirocco on the ground, and the puzzled expression on his face immediately eased. He beckoned, and the little guy naturally jumped into his arms.

He turned his head and even let out a "woof" at Hermione.

"Professor, it's—" Hermione's little head spun rapidly, then she suddenly remembered what Hannah had just said.

"There are some parts of what you just said that I don't quite understand."

She figured that Owen must have just talked to Professor Dumbledore about something, and that asking him this question might just get her some useful information.

"Oh! You mean Newt?" The old headmaster stretched out his other hand and patted Hermione's shoulder naturally, recounting the story in the tone of an old man telling his grandson a tale of the past: "Back when he was young, he did many great things."

"I have visited five continents and more than 100 countries. I even saved the wizarding world from being maliciously exposed in the United States."

"I understand his concerns."

"About Tom's curse and Gellert's coercion."

"He's always been caught in the middle between us, and sometimes I feel like I owe him so much." Dumbledore, dressed in a deep red robe, said as the two walked slowly down the eighth-floor corridor.

The long robe, still carrying the scent of wine, was wrinkled, just like its owner, now dull and lifeless.

Hermione lowered her head upon hearing this.

She didn't notice that Dumbledore would sometimes abruptly lower his head. His cloudy eyes, gleaming with wisdom, would scrutinize him carefully.

"But you, Irving, how's the plan going?"

"plan?"

"Next plan. The last plan was too vague. There might be some unexpected things happening. We must consider all possibilities." Dumbledore tentatively suggested, "How about we use the first version? After all, we can't really let the young wizards get hurt."

This is a one-man company, and I'm the doorman again on Sundays.

(End of this chapter)