I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 142 So, after getting angry with Hermione, you feel much better.

Irving remained hidden in the crowd, listening to the bald tour guide introduce the Sphinx Orphanage—no, it's now the Sphinx Cathedral.

Taking advantage of the guards' inattention, Owen, having cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, swaggered away from the group and walked alone into the areas where tourists were prohibited from entering.

He walked through the corridors he had once stumbled through countless times.

Strangely, he had no related memories whatsoever.

Irving couldn't recall the cold feeling of running barefoot on the floor, nor the burning anger he felt when he pranked the theater staff.

He couldn't even tell left from right, north from south, and would get lost in the corridor.

But—his memories are so clear, why can't they be compared to reality?

Could it be that his memories are all fake?

In an instant, the good mood I had just built up vanished.

The handsome young man sat in the courtyard of the tall cathedral, which resembled a prison, staring blankly at the tender shoots emerging from the soil.

Her jet-black hair was slightly wavy, her gray eyes were unfocused, and a deep light flowed in her eyes that did not belong to her age.

Irving fell into a state of self-doubt.

—On the other side.

In Paris, in Nicolas Flamel's safe house.

The still air was filled with a sense of desolation.

The sudden news shocked Dumbledore; he had never imagined that Owen's illness would be so serious.

When Wenda told him what the child looked like at birth, the old headmaster already had some guesses. For example, he deduced that the child's life might not be long because Irving was a born mute.

In the magical world, it is extremely rare for an Obscurial to live past their teens. Credence was an exceptional Obscurial, but he ultimately did not live past the age of twenty-five.

That's why he brought Owen to France. He originally thought that the child was still young and there was still room for redemption.

But—it seems there's no room for maneuver.

The room fell into a deathly silence. Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel looked at each other, their silence as still as the night, the darkness slowly obscuring their hopes.

"Is there really no other way?" After a long silence, a deep sorrow welled up behind the old headmaster's crescent-shaped eyes. He truly hoped Nick would answer: Yes. No matter how difficult it might be to achieve this.

"I'm sorry, Albus." Nicolas Flamel sighed softly, his tone full of apology. "The boy has dozens of different levels of protective magic on him, with all sorts of effects. It's clear that someone tried to heal him before, but—"

"He failed." That hoarse voice sealed Owen's fate. Nick was over six hundred years old; death was more like a belated old friend to him. Having witnessed countless partings, he patted Dumbledore on the shoulder. "You must prepare early; death may come sooner than you imagine."

"How long?" the old headmaster asked.

"It won't take more than five years."

"Five years?" Dumbledore murmured. "Five years. A boy is only eighteen years old."

"Although it's painful, but—" Nick's voice turned low.

"I understand." Dumbledore sat quietly on the sofa, his eyes closed, his right hand resting on the armrest, his head in deep thought.

Did Gellert entrust the child to him in the hopes that he would find a cure?

Has he done everything he could?

Were those dozens of protective spells Gellert's doing?

Dumbledore's brow furrowed, a deep sense of powerlessness constantly weighing on him. No one would have imagined that Dumbledore, hailed as the greatest wizard, would ever be so distraught and helpless.

Merlin! Is there really no way?

------

"Sir, are you feeling very sad?" The sun in the sky was already gradually tilting.

In the vast courtyard, Irving lay alone on the grass, his eyes closed, feeling the wind and basking in the last rays of sunlight under the setting sun.

"Why should I be sad?"

Hearing the faint sounds around him, Irving didn't even look up, but he knew it was Dobby.

Only he would refer to himself as "sir".

"You only lie there lazily like this, or sit at your desk in a daze, when you're sad." Dobby, who had taken care of Owen's daily life for a year, understood the boy in front of him better than anyone else.

When he's in a good mood, he can't sit still at all.

Especially when they arrive in an unfamiliar place, they're probably already looking for someone to play a prank on.

"uh-huh!"

"Sir, what's troubling you?" Dobby cautiously approached, then knelt down on the grass less than a foot away from Owen.

"I'm sad that the sky darkened so quickly; I wish the sun would stop."

He suddenly pointed to the sky and shouted something both silly and somewhat manic.

Dobby was taken aback, its little eyes filled with confusion, but it never refused Owen's instructions. Immediately, it jumped up, mimicking him, and pointed at the sun, shouting, "Stop, sun!"

"Yes! That's it! The sun stops!"

"Stop the sun!!"

"Stop the sun!!!"

Two mad figures, doing mad things.

This is a spectacle never before seen.

After shouting for several minutes, perhaps tired, Irving suddenly stopped. He opened his eyes and looked at Dobby, who was still yelling at the setting sun.

Suddenly, I felt that it, or rather, I myself, was both ridiculous and laughable.

He smiled.

They laughed unrestrainedly.

"Dobby thinks that the master needs friends. It's always lonely to be alone, just like when Dobby was at the Malfoy's house." As he spoke, he couldn't help but shudder; it was a terrible memory.

"But things are different now. Dobby goes to Hogwarts all the time, to the Muggle theaters, and even to the movies. Those Muggle magical devices are really interesting."

As it spoke, its eyes suddenly lit up. "Dobby just saw Miss Granger. Dobby knows where her hotel is."

"I'll take you there right away, sir."

"?" Owen was stunned, not yet able to react, and then he felt dizzy.

After he came to his senses and came to his senses...

The surrounding area has changed.

"Thud!" He fell heavily to the floor.

Where is this?

Owen, whose head had hit the floor, was still dazed from the side effects of Apparition. He struggled to his feet, one hand gripping the white wall beside him. Just as he was about to stand up, his foot slipped on something, and with a "thud," he bumped into the wall again.

"I"

the other side.

"Achoo—" Hermione sneezed in the hotel.

Why did she have such a bad feeling? She rubbed her nose, trying to shake that annoying thought out of her mind.

She walked to the window and drew back the curtains, letting in the purple glow of the setting sun. She took a deep breath, looked at the vases filling the balcony, and finally a relaxed smile appeared on her face.

Paris, France, is filled with romance even in the air.

The early summer breeze brushed against her cheeks, a ticklish sensation that made her smile involuntarily.

This is her fourth day in Paris, and she's already visited all the major tourist attractions, like the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe. The weather is so nice today; she really wants to go see the magical world of France.

If I hadn't met that annoying guy.

"Splat!"

"Bang!"

"Holy shit!!!"

"Bang!!! Crash, crash~~~"

"Dobby, I, Tamiya, am going to strangle you! Who told you to land in the bathroom with the teleportation ability, and in the bathtub no less!" Suddenly, a boy's furious voice came from the bathroom.

"Who the hell is this?! Don't they have any sense of public decency?! Why don't they put the used soap away properly? What are they doing leaving it in the bathtub?"

Irving, who had finally managed to climb out of the bathtub, had bruises all over his forehead.

He shakily got up, but didn't notice Dobby's figure beside him.

"A year's salary deducted, that damn guy." The boy, cursing, walked out of the bathroom.

Clutching a magic wand, always ready to weave memories of any unlucky Muggles she might bump into on her way out.

then

A girl with brown hair, wet hair, and wearing a white bathrobe, whom Owen recognized quite well, met his gaze.

"Oh~~~"

"Miss Granger! Hello! (*▽｀)ノノ"

A small, dark-skinned boy covered his forehead, his eyes frantically scanning Hermione up and down.

knock!

They're wrapped up so tightly, you can't see anything at all.

It's alright, though. If they see it, they probably won't be able to post it.

"You—" Hermione hugged her arms and quickly hid behind the bed curtains, only her head peeking out, glaring fiercely at Owen. "What are you doing here? You…you better give me an explanation, or else…"

"otherwise?"

"What else can I do! Can you beat me?" The little black-haired boy, who was not ashamed but proud, was completely unafraid of Hermione's stern gaze.

He plopped down on the bed and started rummaging through his pockets.

Get out of the way, Sirocco.

After taking the troublesome white beast out and throwing it on the bed, Owen continued searching and finally found something that looked like a manuscript.

"As you probably know, I can't Apparate (actually I can, but this body hasn't had time to practice). Dobby brought me here. How would I know you lived here, right?"

"And you have to blame yourself for that! As a wizard, why didn't you put up protective spells in your room?" Owen retorted, "Come here, this is my newly copied and newly researched encyclopedia of protective magic. From the Peacekeeper Charm to the Anti-Apparition Charm, and the Ultimate Protection Charm, everything you can think of is here."

Talking nonsense and acting recklessly, Owen held up the handwritten scroll and enthusiastically introduced it: "How about just ten Galleons? Don't miss out!"

Are you still embarrassed and confused by the sudden intrusion of male wizards?

"You're still here."

"Owen!!!" Hermione shouted suddenly.

The sound created a silent shockwave, delivering a resounding slap to Irving's face.

"Yes, yes, yes!" The boy threw the manuscript on the bed. "Ah~~ I'm sorry, I shouldn't have barged in like that. I was wrong, I'm guilty. I should have made Dobby commit seppuku."

"You wait here, I'm going to find that awful guy right now."

(End of this chapter)