I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 172 Listen! That's the prelude to the birth of death!

Nick was still in a daze.

His body, suspended in the air, changed from red to white, and then became increasingly transparent.

Until it is about to disappear.

Harry stared blankly at the figure floating on the water stain in front of him.

He almost thought the Gryffindor ghosts were leaving them forever.

Until Nick's thin body solidified again.

He was finally relieved.

He then glanced at Irving without leaving a trace.

This guy's terrifying nature once again terrified Harry.

Owen almost talked a ghost to death, how terrible! Keep in mind, Nick has been in the castle for at least five hundred years.

He just celebrated his 500th death anniversary last year.

Sirius, meanwhile, was lost in thought, his lonely figure disappearing into the impenetrable darkness.

He knew that the little devil's story wasn't just told to the ghost.

Harry is too young, and those two red-haired kids are probably Weasley children, they're not much older either.

They couldn't comprehend how horrific the story contained.

That's not just a history filled with conspiracies and betrayals, but also a sealed-away cannibalistic demon.

What's even more terrifying is that he actually felt a tiny bit of identification with that demon.

If the wizards had been more united, would the world be a different place?

Suddenly, the dog godfather was startled by the thought that popped into his head.

His gray eyes narrowed slightly.

"This is a joke, a huge joke." Gryffindor, known for his bravery, had his ghost covering his face as if to weep.

His soul was merely a body, not his body, and he couldn't actually shed tears.

But the sorrow on his face was impossible to hide.

Though no tears streamed down her face, her heart was bleeding.

Then, in a mechanical, monotonous tone, like an automated question-and-answer machine, he said, "A creature that is a disaster for ghosts has emerged all over the world."

"What kind of creature?"

Nick didn't answer Owen's question directly, but instead casually changed the subject: "If ghosts are the souls of wizards who die but remain, then there also exists a kind of creature in this world whose soul dies but whose body survives."

"???"

"There are such creatures?" Owen looked at him with great surprise.

"Monsters that exist only in Greece. 'Fantastic creatures' born from death," Nick continued. "Someone has been controlling the information, causing those soulless monsters to attack many Muggle villages and lone wizards, without the awareness of the various national ministries of magic."

"I had thought that Sirius Black, who had escaped from Azkaban, which was now overrun by monsters, might have some new information, but—"

he.

It quietly drifted towards the outside of the gate.

The entire ghost exuded an indescribable sense of loneliness.

Before the dimly lit gatehouse, darkness rejoiced and embraced him.

A strange rhythm emanated from the air, as if the ancient gods were whispering and the deities were casting their gazes upon them.

I am simply celebrating the emergence of a good person into darkness. I rejoice in this.

That's all I know.

He disappeared in front of the restroom.

Darkness engulfed him.

Only a faint, mournful voice could be heard in the gentle breeze.

I'm a joke.

"Hmm, his Dao heart has been broken. I wonder if the ghost will dissipate due to the huge mental blow? Or will it feel despair for this world and choose to continue down this path?" Owen muttered to himself, suddenly realizing that he seemed to have gained another experimental subject.

"."

"Are you the devil?" George couldn't help but shout.

Those are the ghosts of Gryffindor.

And—the wizards of the past were truly terrifying.

This world is so dark, so incredibly dark!

Harry understood this well, and after Owen's rambling explanation, his attitude towards Sirius changed slightly.

Irving reveals a secret from 500 years ago.

It is full of intrigue and trickery.

What about Sirius Black?

Perhaps it really was Peter's conspiracy?

He actually managed to hide in Ron's house as a rat for over a decade. That's utterly unbelievable. Do people like that really exist in the world?

To cover up his sins, he transformed into a rat and hid for more than a decade, wasting the most precious years of his life.

Is there any meaning to living like this?

It can be said that Peter Pettigrew's twisted past was the main reason why Harry was skeptical of Sirius Black and Owen's accounts.

"How could I be a devil, my dear? I'm the Hogwarts Student Council President!" Owen raised an eyebrow. "Well, I haven't done anything today, just wasted my time with you guys."

"Alright, I'm going back to get my beauty sleep now. Goodbye, my foolish Gryffindor!"

After saying that, he turned and walked out of Madam Myrtle's washroom, heading towards the hall.

Many thanks to Sirius for his sudden intrusion tonight—because they were going to sleep in the auditorium!

------

At this moment, the atmosphere is tense at Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, England.

Narcissa Malfoy stood outside the study door, glancing sideways into the room.

She knew that the letter from her sister would embarrass her husband greatly.

The study is a spacious circular room, luxuriously decorated.

The main colors are dark green and silver-white, with luxurious furniture, a marble fireplace and gilded mirrors.

Rows of bookshelves were neatly arranged with various antique paintings, calligraphy and books, while a thick stack of newspapers was piled on the desk, each newspaper containing a news article about a wizard.

Portraits hung on the walls. They were all male members of the Malfoy family throughout history. Phineas Nigellus Black, the most unpopular headmaster in Hogwarts history, was depicted in the very center.

Above the ceiling is a precious crystal chandelier.

The fluorescent light shone on Lucius Malfoy's somber face.

He stared silently at the flames in the fireplace.

He is in a very bad mood right now.

It's worry, fear, confusion, and terror.

Negative emotions are intertwined.

In short, no one in Britain was more worried than Lucius about the Death Eaters escaping from Azkaban.

Why didn't they die in Azkaban?

Just a short time ago.

Lucius received a letter from his wife's sister, Bella.

—Oh my God, a letter from Bella.

Do you know how devastated he was when he saw that letter?

But when he opened the letter and learned its contents, he immediately relaxed.

At least he wasn't sent to his death or to charge into battle.

The Death Eaters are plotting something, and he will be a key part of it. In short, he's still somewhat useful to the Dark Lord!

Therefore, you can reserve a few days for your life.

"Damn it! Damn it!" Lucius's angry shouts echoed through the large living room.

He has too many painful problems.

Why won't the Death Eaters let him go? Why don't we all just go our separate ways?

You can all stay in jail, and I'll continue being a rich man and an aristocrat.

Why must we shatter this perfect world?

The longer Lucius spent with Owen, or rather with Vynda Rozier, the more he realized that the Dark Lord's methods were simply child's play, and that Grindelwald's rule over Muggle thought was the most suitable for the Malfoy family.

Look at the power he wields now.

Fudge was about to step down, Owen had told him in a letter long ago, and Lucius immediately made two preparations.

Whether it's Barty Crouch, who might make a comeback, or Rufus Scrimgeour, who seems poised to replace Fudge.

He bet on both sides.

Although his British Wizards Habeas Corporation has never been advertised in the newspapers, its influence is enormous!

Especially in these chaotic times.

Their business has grown exponentially, and he just opened a branch office in Paris this month.

Both potential candidates are trying to win him over.

This is something the Malfoy family has never experienced in nearly a century.

The previous time with the Ministry of Magic, they didn't use money to pave the way; they pitifully and proactively sought "cooperation."

This time, the two candidates took turns serving him, which was unprecedented.

All of this can be attributed to the guidance provided by Irving and Wenda.

After spending too much time with the Death Eaters—those lunatics—the sudden change in his support character, who had become normal, was a huge shock to him. Before he could even fully savor the feeling of being carried by the Death Eaters, the game was about to end.

This is the reason why Lucius is so distressed.

On one hand, his body still bears the mark of the Dark Lord; on the other hand, his soul has long since entered Grindelwald's embrace.

"What should I do?" he asked, looking up at the portraits, hoping his ancestors could give him some guidance.

Just then, a beautiful black long-eared owl suddenly flew in through the window, interrupting his thoughts.

"Damn it!" Lucius yelled in disgust.

Have all the house-elves in his house died? How could an owl fly right into his study?

Lucius drew his wand, ready to make the reckless owl pay a bloody price.

But the next second, he suddenly stopped.

He saw the markings on the owl; it came from Hogwarts.

Especially that glaring symbol of the Trinity.

He immediately put the wand away.

He walked over, took the letter from the owl's foot, and unfolded it. The handwriting was very delicate and elegant, and the wording was very sophisticated. It was clear that the person was an upper-class wizard who had received a good aristocratic education.

This made Lucius very comfortable.

Yes!

A wizard from the upper class who can write such handwriting must be someone who deals with himself!

Why does he always hang out with a bunch of rats who can only hide in the sewers these days?

It was written in the letter.

The other party knew that Lucius had recently received a summons from the Death Eaters.

She asked Lucius to cooperate with her as much as possible and not to reveal his identity.

After some time, a new group of stalkers will arrive at the Saint's manor; they are all young talents and genius wizards from Europe.

They will be responsible for protecting him and implementing the saints' plans.

This letter is written in elegant language and with a gentle tone.

Look, this is what organization feels like! Trust that enables great things to be accomplished even in the most difficult times!

Let's take a look at the Dark Lord's side!

Lucius, who was increasingly disgusted with Voldemort, was burning with enthusiasm. He was ready to welcome the great Grindelwald and wait for him to save this flawed wizarding world.

With that, Lucius threw the letter into the fire.

The flames instantly engulfed the letter, and the orange-red light reflected on his face.

He was considering whether or not to tell the woman about the Death Eaters' plan.

The flames in front of me flickered, and although there was no wind in the living room, the flames kept rising and falling.

Just like Lucius's conflicted heart at this moment.

After thinking for a long time, he finally fell silent, staring at the fire in the stove.

That Mr. Grindelwald isn't in England, if the Dark Lord wants to deal with him.

No, the Malfoy family would never truly side with anyone.

They will simply stand gracefully behind the victor.

"Febi!" he shouted.

The next second, with a bang, a cowardly house-elf appeared in the room.

"I'm here, Master," Phoebe said in a shrill voice, looking at Lucius Malfoy in fear that he would punish her.

"Get my dress ready, and hurry up, I'm going to meet some high-ranking officials in the Ministry of Magic." Lucius paused for a moment, then continued, "Prepare some gifts, but nothing too expensive."

Now that Lucius controls the entire Wizard Insurance business, he stands out with exceptional strength.

He no longer needed Galleons to pave the way, for from this day forward, his fame far surpassed that of vulgar gold!

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 time that follows.

The castle fell silent once again.

The young wizards' agitated emotions subsided.

The professors searched for Sirius all day but found nothing.

However, a few people hiding in a corner, doing things that men and women couldn't control their hormones, were caught by Teacher Miao.

And then—Irving got into trouble.

Teacher Miao said that as the student council president, he had an obligation to order the young wizards to correct their bad habits.

Then, in addition to his busy schedule, Irving took on an extra task.

"What the heck is that hairstyle?! Your hair's past your ears! You look like a thug! Five points deducted from Gryffindor! Cut it right now, immediately!"

"Is that how you wear a school uniform? Who gave you permission to shorten your skirt without permission! Points deducted! Five points deducted from Slytherin!"

"The student council is doing a room check, huh? Why is there trash in your dorm's trash can! And the blankets aren't folded! There are things on the desks! Points deducted! Ravenclaw, five points deducted!"

"From now on, no talking is allowed during meals in the auditorium! Just eat, what's with all the chatter!"

"You—tie your hair up! No loose hair! Not even naturally flowing hair! What are you looking at? Are you trying to get points deducted from your Gryffindor profile?!"

"You—dye your hair back to black! Who told you to dye it platinum blonde! Look at you, so young yet already showing signs of balding! What does that mean! Dye it back right now!"

"Hey~ What are you looking at! Take those carrots off your ears! Put these on, iris earrings! I brought them back from Paris, aren't they pretty! Cough cough—Ravenclaw gets five points! Hmm—you're the most obedient! Compared to them."

"Hey you two! Schools aren't allowed to have convenience stores! Cough cough—I think I get a cut, right? Um—these things are good for learning, so I've given you special permission to sell them at school!"

"Dating is strictly forbidden at school! No dating, and that's final! If you're already dating, break up with your boyfriend right now! If I find out, I'll call your parents and you'll have to write a 20-inch apology!"

After a week of intensive adjustments by Irving.

Hogwarts creatively introduced the concept of early morning reading.

They've got everything: morning runs, recess exercises, you name it!

Eye exercises should not be missed during evening self-study sessions.

In short, just one week later, Owen was already very close to being a fifth-year pink toad in the eyes of the young wizards at Hogwarts.

His mischief reduced the conflicts between the four academies considerably.

Because everyone was secretly sending him greetings.

Of course, Owen's interest in giving Hogwarts a major shock was nipped in the bud by Teacher Meow!

From that point on, Professor McGonagall never mentioned having him manage the young wizards again!

Hehe o(*￣︶￣*)o

As for Sirius Black...

Owen had said long ago that Dumbledore's office had a huge magical peephole that could see everywhere in the castle.

Do you really think the old principal can't find the dog godfather?

joke.

The next day, he was invited to the principal's office for tea.

I have no idea what Dumbledore and Sirius talked about!

But judging from Harry's ever-present auntie smile these past few days, it must be something good.

This guy is already considering moving out of the Dursleys this summer.

"Gryffindor beat Slytherin in the tournament, and they're going to lift the Quidditch Cup again this year!"

November.

The castle was already covered with a layer of white.

The wind and snow covered the entire mountain range and lake.

Owen, who was rushing back to his dorm after class, bumped into Cedric, the most handsome guy in Hufflepuff, at the corner.

Who is the school heartthrob? It goes without saying!

"It's mainly because Harry is too strong; he's been in excellent form lately!" Justin, walking side by side with Owen, Hannah, and Susan, couldn't help but sigh after hearing Cedric's sigh in front of him.

Harry is indeed exceptionally talented at Quidditch!

There is probably no young wizard in the entire Hogwarts who can surpass him.

Maybe—he glanced at Owen, but—the guy had absolutely no interest in riding on a broomstick.

"Our game against Ravenclaw—I heard they found a new Seeker. She's a beautiful girl, and she's amazing!" Hannah said, empathizing with the sentiment.

Slytherin dominated the Quidditch Championship for six years.

Gryffindor wins their second consecutive championship!

Hufflepuff hasn't won the Quidditch Championship in at least a decade.

Although the young wizards of Badgerhouse seemed uninterested and indifferent, the more they kept quiet about it, the more they longed for it!

She also glanced at Irving.

In Hannah's mind, the only one who could beat Gryffindor was probably Owen.

"That Qiu Zhang!"

In a daze, Irving seemed to remember the Asian girl.

Yes, an Asian girl.

Whether her home country was the Ming Dynasty is debatable. They didn't have much contact, and I never asked. He left Hogwarts in his fifth year of school during the first playthrough.

When Dumbledore's Army was being formed, he was already preparing to flee.

Furthermore, Hermione and the others would never allow a Slytherin to join Dumbledore's army; wouldn't that be ridiculous?

So, where is that girl from? Indonesia? Philippines? Japan?

Who knows?

"Bang!"

"Be careful!"

"Are you alright, kid?" At the corner of the stairs, a dazed Owen collided heavily with Professor Trelawney.

She looked like she had just come back from the kitchen, and she smelled of Shirley from head to toe.

"Huh? Professor Trelawney?" Owen turned around and happened to see the professor who wore thick glasses, had countless chains and beads around her neck, and was acting crazy and unsteady on her feet.

"Oh! It's you!" Professor Trelawney glanced at Owen with her big, watery eyes, then turned to leave.

"Hey! Professor, don't go!"

Given that Harry Potter has only one weapon of causality, Professor Trelawney, could Owen easily let her leave?

"Professor, have you made any predictions lately?"

He took the professor's hand and asked with a look of earnestness.

"No child! Lately, all the signs have been so blurry, I can't see anything clearly," Professor Trelawney murmured in her signature, indistinct, low, drawn-out voice. "I'm tired, child."

"Wait a minute! Professor, you have to have at least one of these: death, a big dog, a spider, or a dark cloud!" Owen followed behind him, continuing his rambling. "Professor, I've been having nightmares lately, dreaming that someone is trying to harm me. Do you think this is some kind of omen?"

"No! You should get some rest!" Professor Trelawney said impatiently.

She tried to break free from Owen's hand, but her unsteady steps meant she would fall after only a few steps, and Owen would then help her up again once she managed to free her arm.

"No, Professor, my dream was so vivid! Look at my forehead, look closely! Aren't my eyes lifeless and my brows furrowed with malice?" He continued to disgust Professor Trelawney in a voice that sounded almost like he was being coquettish.

"You—" Perhaps he was annoyed by Irving.

Professor Trelawney turned her head, her large, watery eyes glaring fiercely at him, about to reprimand him.

But when she saw the mocking look in Irving's eyes, she suddenly froze.

this.

If you drink too much.

Perhaps, maybe, possibly there are clear signs on this child's face.

Signs of premature death.

Signs of weakness.

A sign of an early death.

In short, if Owen hadn't been standing alive in front of her, she would have suspected that the child in front of her was a ghost corpse, or some kind of dead thing that had come back to life.

His face is full of signs that he's about to die!

Moreover, strangely enough, some of these symptoms should only appear in infants who die young.

Owen's eyes widened. He thought about how this professor, who had little fighting ability, little influence, no status at the school, and was also a conman, was the kind of person he loved to criticize. He found it really amusing to watch them make things difficult for him.

Unfortunately, he couldn't use this trick on Wenda.

Just as he was lost in thought, something unexpected happened. Professor Trelawney in front of him seemed to have become a different person. She was leaning against the wall, her body stiff, her gaze unfocused, and her chin drooping.

Irving's heart skipped a beat—Chief Gordon wasn't here!

I didn't trigger her passive skill, did I?

A cold, howling wind blew outside the castle, and Owen could hear it whistling in his ears.

In the dimly lit, narrow corridor, the atmosphere seemed to have become somewhat strange.

Professor Trelawney stood before him, her body trembling slightly, her eyes beginning to dart around as if she were having an attack of some illness.

(End of this chapter)