I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 157 The Rise of the Dark Knight (6,000 words)

However—what puzzled Professor Lupin was why his guardian deity was...

It was tainted with the smell of death.

Was that child blessed by death?

Professor Lu Ping stared blankly at the divine bird high in the sky.

That aura was completely different from that of ordinary guardian deities; it was one of loneliness, sorrow, resolve, and death.

Like the last dance before a final burst of light.

As a master of the Guardian Charm, Lupin's understanding of the Guardian Charm far surpasses that of the average person.

As a reflection of the wizard's soul, the guardian spirit reflects the wizard's current state in real time.

Aside from those dark wizards who have severed souls, they are unable to summon guardian spirits.

Almost everyone else can discern their master's current life state from the guardian spirit.

He had only ever felt this kind of guardian spirit, imbued with death, in a few elderly wizards who were cursed and nearing the end of their lives.

And they all passed away in a very short time.

Therefore, Professor Lu Ping dared to make a judgment almost instantly.

That child, he probably doesn't have long to live.

"Clang clang!" The noble divine bird let out a cry.

Visibly, many burning flames appeared on its wings; those were the flames of its soul.

This extreme power is a testament to Irving's strong willpower.

The flames, like oil poured into a barrel, swept over the group of Dementors and ignited them instantly!

"Hiss hiss hiss~~~"

Terrifying screams echoed across the high heavens.

But to Irving's ears, it was the most beautiful symphony.

A symphony of death!

High in the sky, countless black dots burned into nothingness fragments.

The scene was wondrous, spectacular, and even more terrifying!

"By Merlin! What have I seen!" a young wizard murmured as he stumbled onto the floor of the train compartment.

His legs were trembling uncontrollably, and the next second, he clutched his head in terror and collapsed to the ground.

If Owen were here, he would definitely recognize this Slytherin snake that had repeatedly provoked him.

And such little wizards are by no means few!

Last year, especially in the last two months before the holidays, Quidditch and Ravenclaw became increasingly arrogant.

Almost all major academy wars broke out during those months!

At that time, quite a few young wizards were chasing and intercepting Owen.

"Is he still human?" This is the question on the minds of all the young wizards.

"He won't hold a grudge, will he? If he still remembers last year," one of the young wizards said, unable to continue.

Because he realized that he would have no chance of anything other than getting beaten up.

"Who is he?" This was a freshman this year. He stared blankly at the god-like boy in the rain and murmured the question.

"Him?" The senior wizards around looked troubled.

Their mouths were dry, even though the train had been blown open and the howling wind was constantly blowing in.

But they still felt suffocated!

"He could be the heir to Hufflepuff."

"He is—Irving Sanchez!"

------

"Avada Kedavra!"

Just as Irving was frantically unleashing his dazzling Guardian Light.

A dazzling green light, accompanied by a jumble of noises, swept past the rain and hurtled straight toward him.

"Be careful!"

Professor Lupin, who witnessed all of this, quickly shook his wand.

They tried everything they could to save him.

A red curse shot out from the tip of his staff like lightning, piercing through the torrential rain, its target the deadly curse.

"Sanchez Field." (An exorcism field; maybe next time it'll be called Grindelwald Field.)

A demon of his generation, the embodiment of terror, Irving certainly wouldn't wait for someone else to save him.

Almost the instant he heard the sound, he extinguished the flames of the Guardian Charm.

He turned around and cast the spell that might be the only one that could deflect the killing curse.

A pale blue, rhythmic light, like gravitational waves, emanated from his body.

This spell may not work.

Although he practiced for two and a half years, that was just practice. Did Irving really want someone to cast the Killing Curse on him just to test whether the curse was effective?

"Fly here quickly!" came another voice, almost simultaneously with Professor Lupin's warning to Irving.

The next moment, the little devil felt a sudden lightness under his feet.

Then the whole person flew off in a certain direction.

The killing curse shattered Professor Lupin's spell as easily as piercing glass, then grazed Owen's neck.

"boom"

The curse exploded.

Another cloud of dust rose up, but it was quickly extinguished by the rain.

"Bang"

"Bang"

Bang bang~

In the darkness of night, daylight descends from the sky, like a sharp sword slicing through the darkness.

From the train to the plains.

From the earth to the sky.

On the vast land.

Countless days, like tiny suns, suddenly appeared here.

As the light gradually faded, countless acquaintances whom Irving knew emerged from within.

Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shackle, Ted Tonks, Arthur Weasley, and Professor Felius Frivi.

Even Professor Snape, whom Owen was quite annoyed with, arrived.

In an instant, the scene was filled with members of the Order of the Phoenix.

And a steady stream of Aurors continued to arrive one after another.

The scene of the world being born in broad daylight was quite spectacular!

The little wizards on the train couldn't help but scream.

With each passing day, their screams grow louder.

The cheers reached their peak the moment Professor McGonagall appeared!

"Tsk!" Owen the demon was somewhat displeased with this.

The arrival of these people meant that he could no longer pursue the scum who dared to ambush him.

After all, Professor McGonagall isn't crazy yet!

How could we possibly let a junior wizard hunt down a vicious dark wizard!

Although he wasn't exactly a saint either.

He raised the corners of his mouth in a cold smile, then tossed a smelting metal sphere from his pocket.

Are you alright?

Professor Lu Ping, having escaped the quagmire, was the first to arrive at Irving's side.

He struggled to hold the little one in his arms.

He was still reeling from the shock of the killing curse he had just received.

He was terrified that this young life would disappear before his eyes, just as he was shocked when he saw the child's guardian angel.

"It's alright, Professor." Professor Lupin's rough hand kept rubbing the back of his head.

Honestly, it was quite uncomfortable; my hands were covered in calluses.

Moreover, the professor hugged him very tightly.

I'm coughing a bit—I can't breathe properly.

"If you keep holding it, something bad is going to happen."

Upon hearing this, Professor Lu Ping quickly released his grip, but his eyes still scanned Owen's body. Only after confirming that Owen indeed had no wounds did he breathe a sigh of relief.

"You still have the nerve to be sarcastic?" Professor Lu Ping, whose eyes were lined with wrinkles, was first taken aback, then said irritably.

At that moment, an Auror walked over.

It is Rufus Scrimgeour.

He had brown hair, thick eyebrows with streaks of gray, and wore gold-rimmed glasses.

His sharp eyes swept over the scattered Dementors in the sky and Owen standing in front of Lupin.

Then he strode over.

"This child needs the protection of the Ministry of Magic!" he said.

"I think the last thing he needs is the protection of the Ministry of Magic!" Professor Lupin shielded Owen behind him, his weathered face fixed on Scrimgeour.

He knows these politicians all too well.

They claim to protect you, but in reality, they're imprisoning you!

Otherwise, how would they explain to the public why a Dementor would uncontrollably attack an innocent young Hogwarts wizard?

Of course, it starts with coercing and luring the victims.

If the victims can provide testimony favorable to the Ministry of Magic, then they can silence everyone.

He's seen this kind of thing many times before.

"Watch your tone, sir. This is the Ministry of Magic's prerogative. We are protecting him!" Scrimgeour said firmly, his hand gripping his wand as if he intended to seize the man directly.

He must uphold the dignity and authority of the Ministry of Magic.

He recognized the child; he had seen him in Courtroom 10 during the summer holidays. The child had been imprisoned in Azkaban for insulting the Minister of Magic and for serious violations of the Secrets Act.

In an instant, a plan came to mind.

As long as they take the initiative and accuse the child of indeed breaking the law, the loyal Azkaban guards will still believe he is a criminal.

Then they subtly tried to get the child to confess.

Even if the punishment is waived, it can alleviate the potential public pressure on the Ministry of Magic.

Furthermore, he genuinely wanted to protect the child; he had no selfish motives in this regard.

"What kind of attitude is that!"

Just then, a roar came from behind Scrimgeour.

"Tell me your attitude!"

"Or rather, what kind of attitude do you want!"

It's Professor McGonagall.

Irving swore he had never seen Teacher Meow so angry!

Flames were practically spitting from behind her square glasses.

"Ministry of Magic~"

"Don't mention the Ministry of Magic, Scrimgeour! This is Hogwarts. Hogwarts' young wizards are for the professors to deal with, not you."

Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick stood side by side behind Professor McGonagall.

The three deans arrived together.

The sense of oppression was unimaginable to ordinary people; it was overwhelming.

"Now, I think both this child and the child on the train should go to the castle. As for what happens after that, we'll talk about it. What do you think, Rufus Scrimgeour?"

Professor McGonagall has already gone this far.

What else can Rufus Scrimgeour say?

The dignified professor in front of him was also his teacher when he was young.

Long-standing psychological trauma left the former Gryffindor speechless. He could only stand aside in silence as the professors escorted Owen away.

The cold rain was pouring down.

The wrecked train, struggling to drag its broken body, began to accelerate.

More than an hour later.

As everyone walked up the marble steps and into the castle, they all visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

Harry finally regained consciousness in everyone's arms.

Owen and Hannah walked together toward the long table in Hufflepuff.

The enticing aroma of food wafted from the Great Hall, and the laughter and chatter inside gave the young wizards a wonderful feeling of returning to the human world.

Irving took a deep breath.

Compared to the others' strained expressions, he seemed to be in much better condition.

I'm just hungry.

Simple hunger

The kind of stomachache that comes from being hungry.

He just ate something quick on the train to fill his stomach, planning to have a big meal at school.

As a result, a major battle and intense exercise completely drained the energy stored in his body.

Spellcasting is only part of it; the main thing is the mind.

As the body's biggest energy consumer, the most energy-consuming part is the high-frequency thinking and strategy during a duel.

The auditorium was quiet.

Everyone remained silent.

Irving glanced at the podium.

At least two-thirds of the professors were not present.

Dumbledore

Are they still in France?

Professor McGonagall is presumably protesting against the Ministry of Magic.

Professor Flitwick was likely involved in capturing the non-human wizard who had escaped via Apparition.

Yes, that guy is definitely not a human wizard.

Irving is certain.

Damn it, how can someone with half their body blown away still drag their mutilated body around and cast a killing spell on him?

Even werewolves don't have this kind of physique!

Unless it's Wolverine!

As for Professor Snape, he probably followed him as well.

The newly appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Lupin, was not present.

The empty rostrum.

There was only one dean present.

That's their Hufflepuff's Headmistress, Pomona Sprout.

Professor Sprout probably never dreamed that one day she would be the one to preside over the Sorting Ceremony.

Of course, it doesn't matter who hosts this year's freshman dinner.

Because the absolute star of the show is eating and drinking ravenously at the Hufflepuff table, completely lacking any decorum!

Tonight is destined to belong to only one person.

That's Irving Sanchez.

After the dinner, the young wizards didn't even listen to many of the things Professor Sprout announced.

The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

The new professor of alchemy.

The new professor of the Magical Creatures Protection class.

Until the end of the Sorting Ceremony, Professor Sprout pulled a parchment scroll from her wide, mud-stained robe.

She carefully tore off the sealing wax that bore the Hogwarts crest and then began to read its contents aloud.

Those were letters Dumbledore sent from France.

It is a letter of appointment for the principal.

The entire piece consists of only two sentences.

There will be no longer male or female student council presidents this year.

Owen Sanchez, a third-year student from Hufflepuff House, was appointed President of the Hogwarts Student Council.

To Professor Sprout's excited and pleased tone, Percy was the first to stand up!

He stared blankly at the professor on the podium.

Then he looked at Irving, who also looked completely bewildered.

Suddenly, a strong sense of frustration welled up inside him. His face turned pale, he swayed, and sat down dejectedly.

He might still have some complaints if the train pulls safely into Hogsmeade Station.

But now.

Percy didn't really need to do that.

Even without today's attack, the headmaster's authority would not be so easily altered by a mere junior wizard.

Then, sporadic applause rang out in the auditorium.

It came from the long table in Hufflepuff.

Next up is Gryffindor.

Ron let out an excited shout, then stood up and clapped his hands vigorously. It was unclear whether they were genuinely happy for Owen's appointment as student council president, or because they saw Percy get the short end of the stick.

Gradually, the applause became more frequent and louder.

Eventually, all the little wizards joined in.

The applause lasted for a full three minutes, until everyone's hands turned red and Professor Sprout waved for them to stop. Only then did the applause gradually subside.

Then, the professor seemed to have something else to say.

But in the end, he didn't say anything, only frowned and told the prefects to lead their respective young wizards back to the common room.

Owen knew that it was the announcement that Dementors were going to be brought to Hogwarts.

But now that this has happened, I'm afraid Fudge won't even be able to get past Professor McGonagall.

Everyone silently returned to their respective common lounges; no one spoke.

But everyone tacitly made way for the boy whose face clearly showed he didn't care.

Starting today, the four previously at odds academies have finally reached a consensus.

That is—don't mess with Irving Sanchez.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Blake, it must be that Blake guy!"

Just as the young wizards of Hogwarts were ending their tiring day in their dreams.

In the principal's office.

A group of high-ranking magical officials and professors are locked in a fierce standoff.

"He actually dared to attack Harry Potter in broad daylight! He's insane!" From the moment he entered, Fudge identified the dark wizard who attacked Owen as Sirius Black.

Irving's actions were, of course, to protect his classmates.

As for Dementors...

"I don't care who that dark wizard is! I just want to ask you, why would the guards of Azkaban attack an innocent little wizard!" Professor McGonagall seemed to be on the verge of an eruption, from Owen's return to Hogwarts during the summer vacation, to the arrival of Grindelwald's female assistant, and now to the train attack.

These incidents, one after another, have completely exhausted Teacher Miao's remaining rationality.

"They've made a mistake." A flicker of panic crossed Fudge's eyes, as if he'd been intimidated by Professor McGonagall's imposing manner. "You know that kid was in Azkaban, and Black, the escaped convict, was with him. It's perfectly normal for them to make a mistake!"

"Normal?" Professor McGonagall laughed in exasperation. "There are at least several hundred young wizards on that train. Today they've mistaken us for someone else and can attack us at will. What about tomorrow? Could we all be 'mistaken for someone else'?"

"It was just an accident!" Fudge continued to argue.

"No!" Professor Lupin, looking frail, spoke up. "This wasn't an accident. Your Ministry of Magic simply doesn't have the ability to control those dark creatures! They even attacked three other young wizards on the train!"

"And there is no evidence to prove that the attacker was Blake."

"I saw it with my own eyes. That assassin, missing more than half his body and reduced to a skeleton, was still able to cast the Killing Curse. Such physical abilities are something even—even werewolves don't possess!"

"And the Ministry of Magic bears undeniable responsibility for the sudden appearance of an executioner roaming Britain!"

Despite his frail appearance, Professor Lupin's impassioned speech left a room full of high-ranking officials from the Ministry of Magic speechless.

But Fudge wasn't going to accept Professor Lupin's explanation. His face contorted with rage, he practically roared, "No! It must be Blake, it's him, absolutely him!"

"Watch your tone, Mr. Remus. I know you were good friends with that murderer!"

"That was before," Professor Lupin interrupted Fudge, a resolute glint in his weary eyes. "If that man really is Black, I will kill him myself."

"Alright." Professor McGonagall stepped forward, her square spectacles revealing a resolute gaze never before seen by others. "The task of tracking down the fugitive is naturally left to the Aurors, but I must say that, given what happened today, the agreement between Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic is null and void. Not a single Dementor may be allowed to enter the castle."

"You—" Fudge seemed to choke on his words. He knew he was in the wrong, but, "What if that person sneaks into the castle? Without Dementors, you won't be able to find him."

"Even with them, it's not acceptable! Otherwise, there wouldn't have been a prison break." Professor McGonagall displayed an unprecedented level of authority. She might not like that mischievous child, but she would absolutely not allow anyone to harm him!

"Keep those monsters away from Hogwarts, or else—"

"We will take all necessary measures, including but not limited to directly killing them completely."

"You—" Fudge stared at Professor McGonagall, but couldn't utter a single word.

Yes, this time it's a problem with their Ministry of Magic.

He couldn't even imagine how the Daily Prophet would report it the next morning.

If the public knew that the Dementors had rioted and attacked the young wizards...

Such public opinion would be disastrous, and he would be more likely to be ousted from office by angry citizens once he succeeds.

At this point, it's crucial to avoid further conflict with Hogwarts.

"Okay! I promise you. They won't move into the castle." Fudge finally gave in.

Without pausing for even half a second, he led his men and hurriedly left the office.

"Hmph~"

He promised the Dementors they wouldn't enter Hogwarts, but he didn't say he wouldn't keep watch around.

That Black, he's determined to kill Harry Potter, so he'll definitely come to Hogwarts. If the Ministry of Magic wants to catch the murderer as soon as possible, it must send Dementors to patrol around the castle.

—At night, the ever-present darkness enveloped the earth.

The heavy rain continued.

Just like this night.

From London to the Scottish Highlands.

The rain was getting heavier and heavier.

The torrential rain could make anyone lose their way, for it had reached the point where it obscured even a wizard's vision.

But clearly, there are always some people who are calmer and more terrifying than the average person.

On the roof of the owlhouse at Hogwarts.

Heavy rain fell from Owen's hair as he, dressed in a black robe, crouched on the roof, looking down at the entire castle like a proud eagle.

A thunderclap rang out.

With a flash of light, a small, thin figure appeared.

"Sir, I think you should go to sleep." Dobby handed a metal ball back to Owen.

"Have you found his location?" Irving put the multi-functional metal device Nick had given him—used for location tracking, notifications, and monitoring—back into his pocket without even looking up.

Hannah is right.

He never holds a grudge overnight, because he settles his scores on the same day.

What kind of useless, stupid dog dared to intercept and kill him in the street? He's practically asking for death.

Owen once again cast the spell he knew best with his wand.

Illusory body and illusionary spell.

"He's...he's badly injured," Dobby whispered, then pointed to a spot not far away, near Hogwarts Castle.

"Ugh! It's the darkest place under the lamp!"

A subtle magic enveloped Irving entirely.

Gradually, a completely new disguise began to replace Irving's current appearance.

It was like a symbol of primal fear, a hunter coldly observing from the shadows.

"Every hero needs a cloak!" he sneered, the large black cloak he conjured flapping in the heavy rain.

He was never a kind person.

Irving's core belief is this: make the enemy who creates fear fear itself!

And this fear will become his wings, carrying him across any seemingly insurmountable canyon!

Right, Grandpa?

Relevance! Relevance!

(End of this chapter)