I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 169 The Painful Shift Between the Two Poles: The Shift Again.

"I think you're going a bit too far."

"Ha—look at that textbook, Chapter 3, Page 1, Paragraph 2, are the sentences grammatically correct?"

"The previous professor didn't understand French. There was no proofreading, oh dear~" The old headmaster was undeniably embarrassed, as his easygoing and complacent attitude towards alchemy was about to be exposed!

He quickly explained, "At the time, I was also very opposed to the textbook he compiled; I suggested using Nick's manuscript instead."

"No need to say more." Wenda waved her hand, indicating that she didn't want to listen anymore. She had a half-smile on her face, cold and charming. Although her tone was not loud, unlike those hysterical madmen, it had a unique sense of authority, commanding and aloof.

"There's still a week until the next class. You have four days to revise the textbook to a new version."

"As for your precious students, they can only get a P in this year's courses." With that, she smiled and her high heels clicked loudly on the floor before she turned and left the principal's office.

"Sigh." The old headmaster lowered his head, looking at the textbook in his hand, and felt a pang of pity for the young wizards.

When he was in school, this book originally had more than three hundred pages.

The entire text is a translation of the Egyptian Emerald Book.

Of course, three hundred pages is absolutely insufficient to fully translate that monumental work on alchemy.

In reality, what they saw was just a section resembling a directory.

Later, after he met Nick, Nick gave him a translation manuscript of The Emerald Book written on parchment, which was piled on the ground and was about 9 feet (2.7 meters) high.

The entire manuscript, translated into French, is over 600 pages long, and that's without explaining the derivations of many formulas in detail. If Nick's revised version of "The Great Secrets of Ancient Alchemy" were translated into English, it would be over 1,300 pages long (approximately 13 centimeters thick).

It's big enough to be used as a pillow.

This workload is indeed quite large.

He himself obviously didn't have that kind of time.

Hmm—it seems he'll need to find someone who understands French, has some knowledge of alchemy, and has plenty of free time.

oh~~~

In a daze, a boy with gray eyes and black hair, who was serving as the Hogwarts Student Council President, appeared in his mind.

What a coincidence! A smile appeared on the old principal's face.

Hmm—this counts as training—doesn't it?

If the child can complete the translation of that masterpiece, he will step into a whole new level in alchemy, which can be considered a different kind of class!

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.

Meanwhile, Owen, who was discussing the Patronus Charm with Percy, had no idea that disaster was about to befall him.

After hastily finishing the class, he immediately fled the alchemy classroom.

Those upperclassmen were driving him crazy, constantly asking him how he could release his complete physical guardian spirit, blah blah blah.

He doesn't have Harry's patience.

If you can't learn it, it just means you're stupid.

If you're eighteen and about to graduate and still can't learn the Patronus Charm, then you might as well not learn it at all and just break your wand and become a Muggle!

If you graduate at eighteen and still don't have a girlfriend, then don't bother looking. Just dress up as a woman and do good for society!

troublesome.

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.

Besides Percy's obsession with the Patronus Charm, the other Gryffindors are also not quite normal.

Ron was the first to suspect anyone. He had already begun to secretly investigate who had stolen his spotted rat. He suspected Owen first. There was no way around it; Sirocco seemed very interested in that dead rat and tried to eat it several times. Unfortunately, the rat was, after all, a human. In terms of intelligence, the little cat was still a bit lacking, so it never managed to catch it.

Ron didn't care about any of that; he just believed that Sirocco had eaten his spots.

Finally, after Irving personally intervened and showed him some concern, the guy burst into tears and said that the real culprit was someone else, that he had never suspected Sirocco, and other touching words.

Next is Hermione—although she outwardly appears to have abandoned her research on her thesis, she is secretly reading alchemy textbooks like crazy.

This crazy little witch is flying around.

It was only after Harry's injury that Owen learned from Madam Pomfrey that she had significantly reduced the amount of ingredients for the energizer she prepared every winter.

As someone who also drinks energy drinks like water, Owen immediately smelled a very strong energy drink on Hermione.

The little witch bought herself a Muggle-style thermos?

I carry it in my pocket every day and take a bite whenever I have a spare moment.

Thank goodness this was only third grade, otherwise Irving would have thought it was Batty Crouch Jr. who had sneaked in.

Last but not least, of course, is our savior, Mr. Harry Potter!

Owen always felt that this guy shouldn't have been discharged; he should have been transferred from the Hogwarts School Infirmary to Arkham Asylum.

After getting out of bed, this guy kept saying that he vaguely saw a big black dog when he fell from the sky.

It's all nonsense like the Black Dog Prophecy or Professor Trelawney's prophecy coming true.

He was so suspicious that he became insane.

Moreover, he completely believed what that old madwoman Trelawney said, to the point that he practically lived in the divination classroom with his crystal ball.

Hermione even had an argument with him about it.

Friendly reminder: Because a crazy little witch attacked the Minister of Magic last semester, she did not get the time converter this year.

However, Hermione still had to choose a few more elective courses than a normal young wizard.

Ancient texts include texts on mythical creatures, divination, and arithmetic divination.

Four gates in total

Although she gave up Muggle studies, this schedule was still abnormal.

Divination and arithmetic divination were repeated during class time.

Hermione's solution was to attend one class every other week. For the missed class, she would borrow notes from other young wizards taking the elective!

Of course, this situation didn't last long, because after just one class, Hermione discovered Professor Trelawney's true nature as a conman. After decisively canceling her divination class, she received a normal schedule similar to Owen's.

That's why she and Harry, a devout believer, had such a big conflict.

One thought it was a scam, while the other believed it wholeheartedly!

It would be strange if they didn't fight.

This had nothing to do with Owen, but Hermione approached him repeatedly, asking him to save Harry's (Owen's own addition of an adjective) already rotten, fanatical mind.

Disturbed by the situation, he could only manage to drag Harry out of Professor Trelawney's office the day before Halloween (because it was a holiday).

"In the name of Perry, Perry's father, and Perry's son, I forgive you, you foolish mortal. May idiocy and stupidity stay far from you, Perry!" Owen grabbed Harry's forehead with one hand, then dragged him along, pulling him all the way to Professor McGonagall's office on the second floor.

"Go in and repent, you sinner! The Meow Meow Cult Leader will forgive you for betraying my Lord!"

"No, Owen, you don't understand. Professor Trelawney, she—she can see the future." Harry stood hesitantly in front of Professor McGonagall's office, his face filled with unwavering devotion. Recently, Professor Trelawney had predicted that he would face danger, a life-or-death situation, around Christmas.

He must improve his dueling skills as soon as possible.

Hopefully, we can weather this crisis safely.

"I can see the future too!" Irving said with a disdainful look.

"I'm telling you, I predict that if you keep going like this, Professor McGonagall will find a chance to beat you up!"

"You haven't been to Divination class, so you haven't seen her! Many of her prophecies have come true. Think about Ron; if you count his rats as family, then Trelawney's prophecy that one of his family members would leave forever makes sense." Harry struggled, trying to break free from Owen's grasp. He didn't want to see Professor McGonagall at all!

Teacher Miao will definitely make him stay after school!

Then they'd be punished by copying from the textbook!

"She's practically omniscient! Owen, you'd better respect her, otherwise, if she doesn't tell you about the dangers you'll encounter in the future, you won't be able to avoid them in advance!"

"Bullshit!" Owen snapped, then pushed open the door to Teacher Miao's office. "The last one who claimed to be omniscient and omnipotent—his son has been hanging on the cross for two thousand years, and he's still watching you all every day!"

"."

On the other side, Professor McGonagall, whose door suddenly opened, also heard Owen's somewhat noisy voice.

Her furrowed brows relaxed slightly, but quickly furrowed again.

This is a small study located on the second-floor corridor, with the fireplace already lit.

A table with a window behind it, through which you can see the Quidditch pitch.

"Quick! Teacher Miao, your savior is about to join the cult!"

Owen lowered his head and gripped Harry tightly with both hands.

Harry, on the other hand, gripped the doorframe with both hands, refusing to come in no matter what.

"What are you saying, Owen!" Professor McGonagall was already used to this unlucky kid's various strange ways of addressing her!

At first, she would get angry and deduct points, but this naughty child just wouldn't learn his lesson.

Moreover, he didn't just create nicknames for himself.

Examples include an old bat that never washes its hair, and an old bee that employs child laborers without paying wages.

There's no one at Hogwarts, except for Professor Sprout, that he wouldn't dare to make up!

Thinking about it this way, Professor McGonagall felt a little better. After all, compared to her title, the other professors' titles were not exactly flattering!

"Of course, he should join Professor Trelawney's masterful con artist cult! This guy's completely obsessed, going to the divination room every day, he's totally ruined his savior image!"

Taking advantage of Harry's attention being focused on the door frame, Owen kicked out with a sweeping leg. Harry, who was off balance, immediately staggered and let go of his hands, trying to steady himself.

Then, he pulled hard again, and the little thing rolled into the office.

"You have to punish him properly!" Owen grinned wickedly. "Yes! Make him copy books! Make him copy every single book in the library!"

Wahahaha!!!

Irving, who almost revealed a wicked smile, quickly gritted his teeth and forcefully stopped the corners of his mouth from turning up.

It was only then that he realized there was another person in Professor McGonagall's office.

Wearing a dark green, form-fitting robe, leather boots, and a wizard's hat, he exuded the romantic and elegant charm of France.

Wenda Rozier.

"What a coincidence," Owen raised an eyebrow. "What is she doing in Professor McGonagall's office?"

What are the thoughts exchanged between the women behind the two major white/black devils?

"Harry." Professor McGonagall's stern voice made Harry's small frame tremble.

Yes, the professor already knew that the young wizards in his college were completely bewitched by that old swindler.

The reason she didn't come to handle it.

It's just that she's too busy. The Ministry of Magic, Azkaban, and the British wizarding world are all in chaos lately, and she's incredibly busy.

I've heard that a great calamity has befallen the wizarding world.

The undead spread throughout the European continent.

Dumbledore left the school several times to investigate places like Azkaban where the Dead Ones appeared.

Nobody knows what happened in those places.

And then there were those black wizards who escaped.

Some of them are difficult to deal with, and the Aurors still need the old headmaster's help.

As for those who may have already fled Britain, he, as the president of the federation, must take even greater responsibility.

Although the International Confederation of Wizards has declined since Grindelwald's defeat, and no longer possesses the strength to challenge a national Ministry of Magic, its role as an international organization connecting wizarding nations worldwide has not diminished significantly.

In October alone, the Federation issued more than a dozen international arrest warrants for "dangerous dark wizards".

These all naturally require Dumbledore to coordinate.

There are even some secret matters that he needs to handle personally.

Kingsley has been frequenting Hogwarts these days; they're all preparing for that.

The net has been cast; now it's just a matter of how many fish will take the bait.

The safety and daily affairs of Hogwarts and the surrounding village of Hogsmeade fell on Professor McGonagall's shoulders.

How could she not be tired?

As for her relationship with Professor Trelawney.

Haha—just look at how Hermione and Professor Trelawney got along, and you'll know how this incredibly intelligent, strict, and upright professor could possibly like that con artist.

"Professor, I was wrong!" Regardless of whether you were actually wrong or not, it's always good to admit it first!

Harry understood this all too well. As one of Snape's key targets, he knew all too well that the more you talked back, the more trouble you would get into.

"Alright~ Don't waste your energy on those vague and unrealistic things." Professor McGonagall, unusually, didn't get angry, but instead let out a soft sigh.

This made Irving's wicked smile freeze for a moment.

Uh-huh?

What does that mean?

So you're protecting the savior, huh!

So you're going to go all out against me, huh?

Professor Meow! I misjudged you!

Professor McGonagall stared at the two unfortunate children in front of her, her head throbbing with headache.

This is the busiest and most dangerous time at Hogwarts.

She didn't want to waste her energy on those boring things.

Moreover, the professor glanced inconspicuously at Wenda beside him; she was also tasked with monitoring the former Dark Lord's assistant!

Thinking to himself, "Mr. Meow," he then turned his attention to Owen. "Albus, there's something I need you to do, Owen."

"Huh? How did this happen to me?"

"What is it?" Owen asked in a low voice, a sudden sense of foreboding creeping over him.

"Translate Nicolas Flamel's works," Wenda said softly, picking up where Professor McGonagall left off.

"Me, write the lesson plans? You're the professor!" Owen immediately straightened up, took a step back, and roared angrily.

Oh my god!

That's too lazy of you!

They make me do everything!

Does Dumbledore pay my salary?

When you were the CEO's secretary at your previous company, you were very hands-on and diligent. How come you've become so lazy after changing jobs?

You haven't fallen for the capitalist trap set by the old bee, have you?

All you ever think about is getting free labor?

Owen's gaze towards Wenda immediately turned wary and suspicious. ヘ(￣ω￣ヘ) Stay away from the poison of capitalism, stay away from our classless society!

"Six Galleons per chapter," she said calmly.

"Hey, look at what you're saying. I mainly like to help the professors with their work. Tell me, what kind of writing, what kind of writing!" Owen immediately changed his expression, rubbing his hands together and smiling shyly, his big gray eyes blinking.

"Decoding Ancient Alchemy"

"Oh, so it's this book. I've seen it before, I remember—" Suddenly, Owen's voice stopped abruptly, as if cut off.

Then, with a horrified expression and an incredulous tone, he said to Wenda, "That book—it...it seems to have over 1,300 pages."

"Um!"

"More than 1.3 million words"

"Um!"

"The illustrations alone number over a hundred pages, including some original illustrations from the Egyptian Emerald Book."

"Um!"

"What have I done to offend you, Professor?! You've made me translate this! 1.3 million words! This novel might not even reach 1.3 million words! Are you crazy or am I?!" Owen cried out in anguish, then shouted, "I want to see Professor Spratly! I want to see Headmaster Dumbledore! I've served the school well, I've risked my life for the school! Why are they treating me like this?!"

The two professors showed no emotional change in response to Irving's shouting, as if someone were performing a one-man show.

After howling for a while, Irving finally realized that no one was paying attention to him, so he promptly stopped.

"Finished howling? Go back now!" Professor McGonagall waved her hand, speaking to Harry in the same way.

"The documents will be delivered by owl today; remember to sign for them."

After saying that, Harry, as if reborn, turned around and pulled Owen along, running out of Professor McGonagall's office.

He was all smiles, but who would have thought it would only last five minutes?

It's a two-way reversal.

On the way, his steps were much lighter, and he was beaming with joy.

Kyrie Irving was practically grinding his teeth to dust watching it.

You're happy, aren't you!

Ha ha.

"Harry!" Owen grinned wickedly, putting his arm around Harry's neck and leaning against him, saying in a halting, deliberate tone, "Have you ever heard of a song?"

"What song!" Harry instinctively tried to run away, but Owen grabbed his shoulders, making it impossible for him to escape.

"In the Name of the Godfather, the merciful Godfather has fallen into a realm where sin is invisible. No one can speak, no one is there to speak; it's so hard to bear. Behind the glory lies a profound loneliness."

The faded family crest, polished all night, gleamed with a lonely light—a feeling only now understood. The candlelight flickered incessantly, and an owl perched on the windowsill, gazing into the distance.

"What godfather?" Harry was taken aback, then remembered who Owen was talking about: Black, the murderer.

Voldemort's loyal henchman?

"Sirius Black?"

"Oh! My dear Harry, you won't even call him Godfather," Owen said loudly.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Harry's smile vanished as if erased; he knew Owen was about to reveal the truth he most wanted to know.

"Your father, Sirius, Professor Lupin, and... are best friends, you know? Just like you and Ron and Hermione, they were inseparable during school."

The two walked together down the second-floor corridor, with Owen quietly employing his pain transfer technique.

"Later, Professor Trelawney, that old liar you admire, made a prophecy describing Voldemort's defeat and demise."

"A child born at the end of July will become the savior, and he will eventually defeat Voldemort. By the way, Harry, when is your birthday again?" Owen raised an eyebrow and asked in a teasing tone.

Of course he knew Harry's birthday; he even gave Harry a birthday present.

Harry didn't say anything; he probably guessed something.

It was because of that prophecy that Voldemort believed the child was him.

"I bet you've already guessed it, haven't you? That's right, there are only two children who weren't born in July. One is you, and the other is your roommate, Neville Longbottom. Voldemort chose you, and he killed your parents. The Death Eaters chose Neville, and they drove his parents insane."

He spoke the cruel truth in a flippant tone.

"Back then, your parents knew about this prophecy. To protect them, Dumbledore used the Faithful Charm to conceal the Potts family home."

"Do you know the 'Loyalty Spell'? It's an extremely complex incantation that uses magic to forever conceal someone's secret within the soul of a living person. That person is what's known as the Secret Keeper!"

"I know, Hermione's extracurricular books have an introduction to this spell, she even bragged about it." Harry's body trembled slightly, his fists clenched, his eyes blank; he had already guessed the truth.

"Hehe, so guess who your father will choose as the liaison?"

Sirius Black!

"Hmm!" Owen didn't admit it, he just hummed softly.

But to Harry, it was like a bolt from the blue!

Blake killed his parents!

And the source of all this was Professor Trelawney!

He foolishly followed the enemy who killed his parents every day.

Harry's face turned pale and then red, and he looked like a powder keg that had been ignited.

But an invisible force bound it, preventing the powder keg from exploding, yet also preventing it from being extinguished. The oppressive feeling, the anger yet helplessness, the absurd and shameful emotions almost devoured his soul.

"Oh ho ho~~~" Owen released his hand.

They had now arrived at the entrance to the spiral staircase.

One wants to go up, and the other wants to go down.

Good night and sweet dreams~~~

After saying that, Irving turned around and started walking down the stairs, disappearing swiftly on his feet.

Harry, as if he had lost his soul, walked upstairs listlessly and mechanically.

(End of this chapter)