I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 158 A Two-Faced Man? Sorry, I'm Batman! (6,000 words)

Irving stands in the Owl Tower.

Gazing into the distance at the mountains shrouded in mist.

Then, with a powerful leap, he jumped straight off the tower.

Like a sharp sword.

Dobby naturally followed, grabbing Owen's shoulder in mid-air and then Apparating away!

The outskirts of Hogsmeade.

There is a shed that has been abandoned for a long time.

The place was in a terrible state, inside and out. The room was covered in dust, the walls were mottled, and the furniture looked like it had been smashed.

Everything is a mess.

Suddenly, a figure flashed past outside the silent room.

He then quickly smashed through the wooden planks in the window and climbed into the shed.

The movements are fluid and continuous.

He hid behind the wall behind the window, secretly observing the Dementors patrolling the sky.

Fortunately, the Dementors did not discover his presence, which made the man breathe a sigh of relief.

He decided to use this house as his temporary shelter. He had suffered serious injuries, and no matter how strong his body was, he needed time to recover.

And this house is very suitable.

He looked the dilapidated house up and down.

The man walked slowly towards the stairs.

As he placed his foot on the wooden stairs of the attic, he heard a continuous creaking sound, which was extremely irritating.

Aurors were chasing him everywhere.

He used some tricks to convince those guys that he was fleeing towards England.

If any noise coming from here is detected by the Dementors outside, then he will have no chance of escape.

He staggered up to the attic and gently pushed open a wooden door.

Instantly, clouds of dust rose around him, and his vision became foggy.

Just as he stepped into the house, the wooden door behind him suddenly closed automatically.

Another cloud of dust rose from the room. The man coughed lightly, then turned and raised his wand.

"Um?"

A large black dog appeared in the corner behind the door.

The black dog glared angrily, and saliva dripped menacingly from the corners of its mouth.

"This?" Hogwarts is right next door, and it's normal for a young wizard to keep a big black dog as a pet, but it shouldn't be here.

Because school just started today.

Moreover, the man's eyes became slightly serious. He saw a very human-like expression in the big dog's eyes: tension, anger, vigilance, and indifference.

These are definitely not the eyes of a normal, or even magical, creature.

It's too complicated.

Sirius looked warily at the man who had suddenly barged in.

He was tall and thin, with medium-length platinum blonde hair, and his clothes were tattered and torn as if they had been ripped apart by something.

What surprised him even more was that the man's body, at least half of it, was covered in a throbbing mass of blood and bits of flesh, from his legs to half his face.

He was severely injured, an injury that would almost certainly be fatal to a human wizard, as the destroyed half of his body included his heart.

But he's still alive, it's unbelievable!

Even within that surging red fluid, new flesh is slowly growing.

It's just that the speed is very slow.

Dangerous! Terrifying!

Sirius had never seen such a creature before.

But from another perspective, this is an excellent opportunity.

A wizard with a magic wand, who looks like he's being chased. Is there anyone easier to bully than this?

The big dog's black eyes were fixed on the man.

He let out threatening low moans.

Just as he was about to rush forward and snatch the man's wand.

Suddenly, a move by the man forced him to stop.

The tall, thin, half-man pointed his wand at the window.

The meaning was clear: if Sirius made any transgression, he would immediately cast a spell to lure the Dementors to him.

Clearly, the man had already guessed that the large dog in front of him was an Animagus of some wizard.

This reminded him of the Azkaban prison break that had been making headlines in the British Isles these past few days.

A Death Eater named Sirius Black escaped from his cage.

Everyone is speculating that he might be here to hunt down the child who caused the Dark Lord's defeat, the child who miraculously survived, Harry Potter.

"Sirius Black?" A hoarse voice, like sandpaper scraping the floor, suddenly rang out in the dirty and messy room.

Upon hearing the sound, Sirius, who had transformed into a large dog, was startled.

A hint of shock flashed in his dark eyes.

After noticing the dramatic change in emotion, the man became even more certain that the large dog in front of him was Sirius Black, the most loyal Death Eater in legend!

So that's how it is—he escaped Azkaban using Animagus!

Excellent, truly a genius wizard.

A wizard who can master such advanced transfiguration is definitely not an ordinary wizard.

Unfortunately, he was Voldemort's man.

If possible—

The man's face showed a relieved smile, as if he had caught someone red-handed.

He knew that, no matter what, he would get through the night unscathed.

"Crunch~"

Suddenly, there was a slight sound, like the wind blowing through wooden planks.

The man and the dog instinctively turned their heads to look.

Outside the stone house door.

The man gripped his wand tightly, gesturing for Sirius to move aside, then staggered over.

His steps were extremely slow.

He slowly opened a corner of the door and quickly scanned the room with his remaining eyes.

Dust was flying downstairs.

It turned out to be the sound of wind and rain blowing in through the window he had just broken, rattling the dilapidated staircase.

"Phew~" He breathed a slight sigh of relief.

Looking at the moonlight streaming through the broken window, my excited mood calmed down a little.

Ok?

moonlight?

It's pouring rain outside, so how can there be moonlight?

"boom!"

A sudden explosion occurred in the screaming shack!

Sirius Black dodged with all his might and jumped down the stairs.

The explosion happened behind them!

The entire wall collapsed in the explosion.

A figure.

A dark figure, like an incarnation.

A primal, terrifying incarnation.

It unfurled its enormous cloak and charged in amidst the flames and the thunder and lightning.

Before the man holding the magic wand could cast any spells.

The oncoming whip kick sent him crashing down the stairs from the second floor, shattering the wooden planks, and slamming him against the wall on the first floor with a loud thud.

"I saw it! A mouse!"

A deep, magnetic male voice rose from the ashes.

Then Owen leaped high into the air again, swooped down, and used the immense impact to land directly, crushing the man's arm that was holding the wand.

"I thought you wouldn't bleed!"

He looked at the blood and flesh at his feet, which covered his boots.

Irving said in a low, ambiguous voice, with a half-smile.

Wearing a mask, he truly examined the male witch who dared to attack him for the first time.

Harvey Dent? Two-Face?

The man before me was half normal, and half a fluid entity of flesh and blood.

The dimly lit room, with its swirling dust obscuring his vision, made him look quite terrifying.

"Hmph! I don't care who you are. I'm just curious why a vampire progenitor would come to Hogwarts to assassinate a junior wizard?" Owen said indifferently, then bent down and forcefully broke the wand off the man's severed hand.

Behind the mask he conjured.

A cruel smile crept across his lips.

Then, swiftly and without hesitation, she smashed the man's jaw with another punch, and then, gripping her wand in her right hand, shoved it into his mouth.

Pressing his tongue against his, Owen said fiercely, "I've heard that you have to use fire to deal with scum like you from the gutter."

"I'm curious, after a fire, will you be able to recover?"

"So," Owen's tone suddenly turned somber, all his emotions vanishing, leaving only a calm, yet subtly angry, anger, "can you tell me who sent you?"

"Waaah~"

The man's only remaining eye was staring intently at him.

Irving could see the momentary fear in that eye, but it quickly transformed into resilience, and he could even detect a hint of mockery in it.

well.

"Capture the spirit, grasp the mind!"

"Waaah~"

Suddenly, the man lying on the ground began to convulse violently.

His eyes rolled upwards, and his whole body arched.

Along with the intense physical rejection, came fragments of memories, some real and some not.

It is quite obvious that his memory has been tampered with.

Irving gets very little exposure.

He could only vaguely make out a familiar sign and an agreed-upon address.

After this incident, psychological suggestion will lead him to that address.

Perhaps there, the mastermind behind it all will restore his memories.

Or just kill them.

"A brilliant idea, amazing magic." Owen suddenly smiled after visualizing the entire symbol in his mind.

This person seems to be one of our own!

"Hehe!" The man laughed menacingly, his fanatical eyes revealing a mad loyalty to someone.

"Heh heh—Avada Kedavra!!!"

Under the green light, everything fell silent.

"Tch—so why did you attack me?" he muttered.

The dead man's wand, which he had discarded, fell to the ground with a crisp sound.

It landed right in front of the big dog that was hiding in the shadows.

"Sirius?" A deep, teasing voice rang out again.

Hearing the big dog's voice sent chills down my spine.

He stared at the man in front of him, who was wearing a black cloak and a black mask.

This style was also used by someone whose name couldn't even be mentioned.

I heard that was when he was young and still recruiting followers.

Tom Riddle, who travels the world, is dressed like this.

"What a coincidence!" he said.

Then he turned and stepped out of the gap in the window.

"Since it's such a coincidence, you can take the blame, right?" In the pouring rain, Sirius felt he had heard that lazy voice somewhere before.

"Anyway, you're a murderer identified by the Ministry of Magic. One more or one less won't make a difference. As a reward..."

The sound of the heavy rain gradually drowned out the other sound.

Finally, from afar, only one sentence pierced through the raindrops and reached Sirius's ears.

"In return, Peter Pettigrew, you've got a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in Azkaban, so you'd better seize it!"

In the distance, the light created by Dobby could no longer lure the Dementors.

The sounds coming from the screaming shed finally attracted the attention of those beasts.

A sky full of black dots is hurtling towards us.

Hiding in the shack, Sirius Black could clearly see through the exposed window that a large group of Dementors were attacking him.

"Damn it!"

Without the slightest hesitation, he immediately deactivated his Animagus transformation and picked up the wand that seemed to have been deliberately thrown to him.

They turned and fled in the opposite direction.

"hehe--"

Dobby had already returned to Owen's side and brought him back to the castle.

Through the huge glass of the clock tower on the second floor, he could vaguely distinguish between the Dementors and the raindrops from the many moving black dots in the rainy night in the distance.

"Keep it up, Blake!"

After saying that, Irving strode away.

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.

The long night finally came to an end.

In the early morning, the heavy rain seemed to have subsided considerably.

But it's still not over.

In the corridor, the young wizards huddled together in twos and threes. As they passed through the damp, drafty passageway, everyone unconsciously wrapped their cloaks tighter around themselves.

Damn weather, it's only September.

It's already this cold!

How are we going to survive this winter?!

The atmosphere in the auditorium became oppressive.

The vibrant, burgeoning energy of the previous semester is gone.

Of course, there were still some people with smiles on their faces.

"Hey, Kyrie!"

As soon as he and Hannah stepped into the Great Hall, a little boy stood up at the Gryffindor table.

He was a little boy with gray-brown hair, a smile that was always on his face, and eyes that seemed to express pure, innocent naivety.

"Give!"

Colin handed him an envelope.

Even before Irving took it, he could tell with the naked eye that it contained Galleons.

It must be Galleon, because Silver West isn't that big.

???

What the hell?

He can finally start collecting protection money?

Someone gave me money on the first day of school?

And so openly and honestly!

Although Kyrie Irving has always been thick-skinned, he describes himself as a dull, weak, and taciturn person.

but.

"Ahem—it's best to do this in private." He pretended to cough, then quickly stuffed the envelope into his pocket with a clatter.

Then a kind and friendly smile appeared on his face, and he reached out to pat the very sensible young man in front of him.

"Consider this your membership (student council) fee! I'm not that kind of person who takes your money lightly. I'm doing you a favor, understand? For example, if someone causes you trouble in the future, and I teach them a lesson, this money is for paying their medical expenses! Got it!"

"."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Colin asked, holding the camera, his face full of confusion.

Hannah, standing to the side, quickly rolled her eyes.

Early in the morning, she witnessed the dirtiest scene at Hogwarts!

Thankfully, Miss Gryffindor wasn't there, otherwise she would have definitely handed this little wizard who was ruining Gryffindor's reputation over to Professor McGonagall with a twisted expression!

"This is payment from the Daily Prophet!" Colin explained quickly. "I took a lot of photos of you fighting those monsters last night, and I sent some of them to the Daily Prophet. This morning they sent me a large sum of money, and they also asked me to take more photos of you and do an interview, something about your life, family, parents, and so on."

"ha?"

Not protection money?

Irving's face immediately fell.

I thought these little wizards had become smarter and more worldly-wise, but alas—they've wasted their time as officials.

Then he touched the envelope in his pocket.

Then his complexion worsened.

Hey—you call four Galleons a huge sum of money? Are you looking down on the Daily Prophet, or on me?

I am Irving Sanchez!

The Malfoy Social Security Corporation, which provides him with a monthly bonus, allows him to earn hundreds of Galleons in minutes.

Would I care about four Galleons!

Irving was furious!

He felt humiliated!

An insult from a foolish Gryffindor.

To get revenge on him.

Irving decided to tuck the envelope in even deeper!

Knock—I can't let myself get the short end of the stick!

"Where's Luna?" he asked, then stood on tiptoe and peered toward Ravenclaw.

Perhaps they arrived a little late, because Owen did not see Luna at the Ravenclaw table.

"He really doesn't know how to do business!" After failing to find Luna, Irving had no choice but to educate this business novice, Colin, himself!

"Write a letter to the editor of the Daily Prophet, telling him that you can interview Nima for less than 500 Galleons! Write it now, immediately!"

He roared.

Then he dragged Colin toward the Gryffindor table.

Keep an eye on him, write him letters!

"Oh, and one more thing: mention that 'The Quibbler' has already been offered 550 Galleons. If he doesn't reply by 2 PM, then we'll have to ask the editor of the Daily Prophet to contact Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood and ask if he'll allow 'The Quibbler' to be reprinted!"

"This stupid kid has absolutely no business sense!" Owen grumbled incessantly. "They're both Gryffindors, but look at George and Fred, how come there's such a huge difference between them?"

"Having received absolutely no education, they're bound to starve after graduation!"

"We think so too." Upon hearing their own name, the Gemini immediately came over.

"The young wizards are getting worse with each passing year," Fred said, lying on Colin's right.

"I suggest the Sorting Hat raise the admission standards," George chimed in, leaning to Colin's left.

"Then I suggest that the school allow the college to expel junior wizards," Fred continued.

"That's right, kick all those lowlifes out."

"We at Gryffindor only accept elites!"

"I think Kyrie Irving would be great, a perfect fit for Gryffindor!"

"I think so too!"

The twins, one after the other, spoke with a barrage of dangerous words. The little boy's pupils dilated, and he became completely dazed. He probably really did believe that he might not be suitable for Gryffindor and was going to be expelled.

"Enough, you guys!" Hannah couldn't stand it anymore.

She got up and walked behind Colin.

He patted him on the shoulder and said, "They're just trying to scare you. The school won't expel any young wizards."

Colin's body trembled slightly as he turned and gave Hannah a grateful look.

"But you can get expelled!" Irving added sarcastically. "Look, look, look! What are you looking at! Hurry up and write it!"

Tragic Colin, sobbing and suppressing his discontent, quickly turned back and began writing on a blank parchment using his magic quill pen, which didn't require ink.

And there were three others on the side.

Then he smiled with a ferocious expression.

Colin's tragedy did not last long.

Because it wouldn't be long before they had to go to class.

Irving threatened to deduct points from Colin's score, 'inviting' him to come and talk to him again at noon.

He then left the auditorium with Hannah, sporting a devilish smile.

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.

Today was very strange; the first Transfiguration class this morning was temporarily replaced with a Herbalism class.

Moreover, the entire third year of students from all four colleges attended the herbalism class.

Professor Sprout had to speak loudly throughout the entire lesson, afraid that some of the young wizards wouldn't be able to hear him.

At noon, as expected, the reply from the Daily Prophet arrived.

The editor offered a whopping 600 Galleons for an exclusive interview with Irving.

Unfortunately, Hogwarts has been closed to outsiders for the past few days.

So the task of conducting the interview fell to Luna.

I wonder what kind of expression Barnabas Goughfe, the writer of The Daily Prophet, would have on his face if he knew that the interview he requested was written by the daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood, the editor of his biggest rival The Quibbler.

Ha ha

After lunch, the group found a deserted corridor.

Colin was in charge of taking the photos.

Luna was in charge of writing the articles.

The interview that would ultimately be unforgettable for Irving had finally begun.

"Are they filming?"

"They're filming! They're filming!"

A flash went off, and Owen, sitting on the stone railing in the corridor, immediately got into character. He first pretended to wipe away non-existent tears with his hand, and then introduced himself in a trembling, hurried tone, as if sobbing.

"Hello everyone, I'm Owen Sanchez. My family has had a very difficult situation. My mother always told me that children from poor families mature early."

"Ahem, sorry, I'm used to it, don't write this part." He instantly went from crying to calm, then waved his hand and said to Luna shamelessly and casually.

"Let's start again, cough cough."

"Hi everyone, I'm Owen Sanchez. My family is in a really tough spot—why? Because I have no family—cough, cough, that doesn't seem quite right either!"

"Again!"

"Hello everyone, I'm Owen Sanchez. My family is going through a lot of hardship, even though I wake up every day in my 1.24-acre (7.5 mu), 4625-square-foot (about 430 square meters) garden villa."

Although every spring, the wisteria trellis in my garden transforms into a purple waterfall, and the flowers and plants in the yard bloom in a riot of color, with all sorts of trees and shrubs vying for attention, I am actually a poor, taciturn, introverted, and inarticulate person.

"To talk about my connection with magic, it all started when I was some age I don't know. That day I was leading the children in our orphanage. By the way, I'm actually an orphan."

That day I was playing in the mud with the little girls from the orphanage.

Suddenly! Just like that, some silly boy picked up a lump of mud and threw it at me. Oh! I reacted quickly, dodging to the side, and the muddy puddle hit the little girl behind me.

But alas! Two fists can't fight four hands. I don't know what went wrong with all the boys in the yard, but they all suddenly started throwing mud at me.

Mud everywhere—oh! Just like yesterday's Dementors, it was my magic that awakened while I was on guard.

Irving went on and on about his glorious past.

Sigh! I don't need to think of a title for the second chapter after the first one.

(End of this chapter)