I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 174 The Third Day Before Christmas - A Dark Prelude

Although her henchmen were trying to break in from outside the window.

But they were all stopped by another handsome man with long hair.

Then, with a loud bang, the petrified guard smashed the window and threw the person into the room.

"That's the dumbest story I've ever heard. It's disgusting, repulsive, and filthy! In some ways, you're more repulsive than Voldemort."

The newcomer was tall and slender, with a handsome and elegant appearance, elegant and beautiful black hair, and a pair of striking gray eyes. Every gesture he made carried an air of nonchalant arrogance, unrestrained and dashing.

But those eyes seemed capable of spitting fire!

He raised his wand and aimed it fiercely at the old witch.

If he could, he'd love to just fire an Avada Kedavra right now and kill that bitch.

In a daze, he remembered what that little devil from Hogwarts once said: that there are people in this world whose very bones are filled with evil.

To deal with them, you have to learn from Muggles and use fire!

Burn the body and all the remains clean!

Because their stench affects other people!

"No! Black!" Moody interrupted him. As the only person present with interrogation experience, Moody's political acumen told him that he must not kill this old hag now.

She is like a blooming cherry blossom; the flower itself is not important, what matters is who planted it.

When cleaning, be sure to remove her root system!

Once you startle the enemy.

This would cause the federation to split, and even a series of more terrible things to happen.

Those who support her, her cronies. They must be wiped out all at once.

Everything depends on this woman being alive; only if she's alive can they find what they want from her mind.

Rosier, despite having several wands pointed at her, remained calm. She slightly raised her wrinkled face, her cloudy brown eyes fixed on the Order of the Phoenix members present, her lips moving slightly. "Looks like my Occlumency spell didn't fool Dumbledore!"

"Hmph—he's much smarter than you think!" Tonks scoffed, recalling what Dumbledore had told her before they came.

He had suspected this woman for a long time, and had sensed something was amiss during the Dark Ages.

However, since Voldemort's defeat, Britain had finally achieved peace, and he did not want to disrupt that peace and drag wizards back into the quagmire of war!

Moreover, these people did not actually do anything to harm the wizarding world; most of them were just wearing gloves.

So Dumbledore chose to tolerate it and began a secret investigation.

"clever?"

"Child! When will you truly grow up?" Rozier still seemed at ease. She sat on the sofa with her hands crossed on her lap. Although Sirius had already disarmed her, the wizard without her wand was not flustered.

"Magic needs power. If it weren't for Dumbledore, we would have started unifying the magic ministries of various countries decades ago. In a sense, he is the wizards' greatest enemy."

"Ha! I only know that Dumbledore would never use other people's lives—hundreds or thousands of lives—to pave the way for himself!" Tonks was almost laughing in anger. It was the first time she had ever seen someone speak of selfishness, greed, and utter lack of morality in such a grand and dignified way!

"Stop wasting your breath on her." Sirius stormed over, the tip of his wand glowing faintly. "Dumbledore forbade killing her, but he didn't say you couldn't torture her."

"It just so happens that we both know about that curse! Don't we?"

The dog godfather, consumed by rage, had lost all reason.

After being unjustly imprisoned and tormented by Dementors for thirteen years, he was utterly disillusioned with all magical authorities.

After he escaped Azkaban, all he heard and saw was how foolish the Ministry of Magic was.

Especially after he met Irving.

The boy had been rambling on and on. Something deep within him—something he had never thought about, never realized, and never truly felt before—was quietly sprouting and growing rapidly.

At that moment, he finally understood what that little black-haired guy had said.

"Truth does not change because of the cruelty of the means."

Because there is a batch of garbage in this world that should be cleaned up!

Cruelty is necessary!

"Dumbledore, won't you pave the way for yourself?" Rozier narrowed his eyes slightly. "Child, the world is far more complex than you believe!"

"Snapped!"

A crisp sound echoed in the room, and blood slowly trickled from the corner of her mouth!

Then, before she could recover from her brief moment of distraction, Sirius Black had already grabbed her chin tightly, twisting her head so she could look him in the eye.

Looking into his own eyes, which were filled with intense murderous intent, he thought, "You deserve to die, you deserve to die!!!"

Sirius's eyes reflected countless tragic lives.

For the past week, he has been traveling to Greece at Dumbledore's request to protect the magical creature conservationist.

Everywhere I went, all I saw was death and slaughter.

His eyes reflected countless vibrant lives.

Old people, children, men, women, black people, white people—the only thing they had in common was that they had no pupils, and they were shouting silently with their mouths open.

"Alright." As the leader, Moody had to step forward.

He reached out and grasped Sirius's arm, pulling the poor man back from the brink of darkness.

"We have to go, their men are already surrounding us." His deep, hoarse voice brought a strong sense of psychological comfort to everyone.

It's as if no matter what the world is like, he can always find a way to pull them out of the mire.

Moody gave Tonks a look, and then she immediately unleashed a red spell.

That's a sleeping spell.

Then, Rozier, who had been knocked down, fell into the trap that Tonks had already prepared.

A pocket that has been enchanted with an infinite stretch spell.

"Hurry up!" Moody whispered.

Then he took a small compass out of his pocket.

If Owen were here, he would surely recognize that the compass was given to him by Nicolas Flamel.

A compass to find his safe house!

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.

Christmas is approaching.

The oppressive atmosphere inside the castle was about to reach its peak.

Many famous wizards and Aurors have appeared at Hogwarts!

"Alastor Moody".

In the auditorium, the twins recognized the celebrity at a glance!

Auror, a former star.

"This guy once arrested seven dark wizards in one night; he's the most powerful Auror in the Ministry of Magic! My dad says his magic eyes can see through wizards casting invisibility spells!"

Gryffindors sat with the Hufflepuffs.

Part of their long table was cleared out.

It was used to entertain guests from the Ministry of Magic.

"I heard he's retired!" Seamus said, looking at the people from the Ministry of Magic behind him.

His gaze first fell on the old man with dark gray hair, covered in scars, with a broken leg, and leaning on a cane, before finally settling on the others.

There were several wizards there, none of whom spoke English.

"He's a retired senior Auror. By the way, who are the others? I've never seen several of them before." George frowned. As a well-known second-generation official, he knew most of the people in the Ministry of Magic, even most of the officials in the International Relations Division who were often in other countries.

Looking at these wizards before him, he was quite surprised to find that he had never seen most of them before.

"Members of the Federation." Owen looked down and tore into the very chewy Italian pizza in front of him. It was a strange British-style pizza. Although it wasn't covered in pineapple, why was it so chewy?

Is this a pizza?

It's probably not a pancake!

"The International Wizarding Federation? Wow! Big shots!" Fred's eyes widened. For them, as junior wizards, in an increasingly closed world, it was rare to see wizards from other countries, let alone officials from the federation.

"Look at that one, just like Cho Chang, a wizard from the Far East!" Cedric suddenly shouted, staring at a young, somewhat exaggerated wizard.

"Just like Cho Chang." Owen looked up, glanced at Cedric with a strange look, and then followed his gaze to the long table in Gryffindor.

"Wow! She's very young," he exclaimed.

"They must be officials from the Federation, or diplomats from Far Eastern countries stationed at the Federation's headquarters."

"And that one, she looks just like Professor Wenda." Percy's gaze fell entirely on a witch with gray hair and a kind smile on her face.

"I know her, she seems to be the vice president of the federation!" he continued, a hint of admiration flashing in his expression.

"Tch, nobody cares who the vice president is!" Gemini scoffed. She emphasized the word "vice" heavily.

"If you want to lick boots, I suggest you lick Dumbledore's boots instead, since he's the chairman."

"You're right, George!"

"Shut up, you two!" Percy glared angrily at his two troublesome younger brothers.

"Hmph! We have mouths on our bodies!" the twins retorted without any politeness.

Percy's feigned dignified demeanor greatly displeased them.

George and Fred showed no sign of backing down; instead, they craned their necks and engaged in their usual banter with Percy.

Irving, however, ignored the noise around him.

They craned their necks, curiously observing the long table of wizards from various countries, numbering over a dozen.

The lazy expression on his face gradually faded.

He knew Trelawney's prophecy, and he also knew Dumbledore's concerns.

But there must be something he doesn't know, otherwise the old headmaster wouldn't be so nervous, especially since so many wizards from other countries have gathered here.

The other young wizards were unaware of this. But Owen knew that some of those dozen or so wizards were old friends of the headmaster.

Euryale Hicks, former professor of spells at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the United States.

Queenie Goldstein, a former employee of the U.S. Ministry of Magic, is a natural Legilimency.

He even saw Newt's older brother, Theseus Scamander.

This lineup.

Anyone who didn't know better would think Dumbledore was about to start another war with his grandfather Grindelwald.

No, Dumbledore must be hiding something from him!

Or rather, something major must have happened in the magical world. You see, according to the Federation's operating principles, even if a serious wizarding disaster occurs in a country, they will not intervene as long as there is no serious violation of the secrecy law or the war spreads to other countries.

Grindelwald was subjected to a full-scale war by the Federation because he attempted to overthrow the Secret Service Act and spread the war to the whole of Europe and North America.

Aurors from dozens of countries formed a united army and launched a long and sustained attack on his grandfather and his followers.

That's why Irving couldn't see the Fallman's true colors!

This good-for-nothing who can't even get into a school is comparable to his maternal grandfather.

But there is one thing—that is.

Wenda appeared on the professor's bench, facing her former rival across the room; the scene was undeniably awkward.

"Although I don't know what happened, it must be something very serious." Owen wasn't the only one who noticed the crisis; Hermione also sensed something amiss.

There have never been so many Aurors in the school before.

Even Mr. Ober Benny only stayed for a few hours before leaving.

Ok?

Mr. Ober Benny?

Wasn't he dead?

Yes, among the crowd at the Ministry of Magic, Hermione clearly saw the 'dead' Mr. Oberyn Martell.

Then, she instinctively turned to look at Owen.

You definitely know something, right!

"Why are you looking at me?" Irving shook his head. Honestly, Old Deng doesn't care! How can he keep bringing someone who's already clearly out of the picture?

"My dad said that recently, there have been strange incidents of dark creatures attacking wizards all over Europe." Luna had also sat down at some point, holding the book "The Quibbler," which was made up of rumors and dubious facts. It was Hermione's most hated book.

In her words, reading this magazine serves no purpose other than providing insight into the neuroticism of some wizards.

But Irving didn't think so.

He reached out and took the copy of "The Quibbler" from Luna's hand.

Then I casually flipped through them.

Sometimes, rumors and gossip are the key to obtaining important intelligence.

The key is to filter out the incorrect and useless information.

"The Dark Creatures Riot in Anatolia, a Conspiracy of the Ministry of Magic"

"Clashes between wizards and Muggles in the Levant have resulted in deaths."

"The primeval forests of Dacia, the gathering place of black wizards."

"The eternal fire that burned in the Greek temples attracted Muggles to stop and watch."

"It's a mess; there's no place in all of Europe that's peaceful!"

Irving sighed.

Just as he was about to put down the manuscript, a somewhat unclear clue suddenly surfaced in his mind.

Greek temples

He instinctively thought it was the Parthenon.

However, upon closer inspection, it was discovered that the temple mentioned in the article was the Pantheon on the Greek island of Samothrace, a sacred site in Greek mythology.

"Mothrace Island," Owen muttered to himself. In the history of wizards, this was not a religious holy site.

All his mysterious messages originated from a large group of dark wizards who gathered there during the Dark Ages.

This place is one of the mysterious European ruins that Nick shared with him.

The mysterious land of the dead.

The paradise of the dead.

The most bizarre humanoid creature in the wizarding world.

"The Deathborn One," Luna said slowly.

"It must be them—plotting a war against the wizards."

Hmm—Luna's opening line is definitely that of an old marketing account.

Hermione rolled her eyes, then turned to Owen and asked, "What's wrong? Did you find something?"

"Hmm—" He glanced at Hermione.

Luna's guess might be right this time.

It's quite possible that those undead creatures caused the trouble.

Because it was clearly written in the newspapers that the eternal fire was lit in the Greek temples.

In the Harry Potter world, only one flame can be called the Eternal Flame.

That is—the Ancient Flame of Bula.

This is a magical flame that can burn forever without any fuel.

Its power is less than that of the Fiery Blaze, but it is more durable.

As for the Deadborn, the Ancient Flame is the only magic that can eliminate them.

"Eternal Flame, Miss Granger, you haven't forgotten about this after taking so many magical creature protection classes, have you?" Owen put down the magazine and then raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

"The Eternal Flame?" A slight doubt arose in the little witch's heart, then a memory surged up, and she quickly remembered.

This humanoid creature is described in "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them".

The Deadborn—Soulless beings wandering in a dreamlike realm.

They are generally less than two feet tall, with oddly shaped heads and monkey-like bodies.

They are gentle in nature and will not attack other living beings, including wizards and Muggles.

It exists only on the Greek island of Mothrace.

The Ministry of Magic classifies its danger level as X, meaning: boring.

The only thing that can be called amazing about this creature is its immortality.

Yes, these creatures cannot be killed by any means, including killing curses or physical methods.

They were as if the concept of death had been stripped away from them.

No amount of force can destroy their withered, pale bodies, but after a while, they will revive again.

It goes on and on.

Only the eternal fire, the ancient flame of Gubrai, burning for a long time, can completely kill them.

—This is clearly recorded in the monumental book, *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them*.

Hermione, being the kind of ruthless person who could memorize the entire history of magic, would certainly remember such a life.

"Could it be?" She covered her mouth, looking at the book "Singing a Different Tune" in surprise.

Could it be that what's written there is all true?

Irving, however, saw further ahead.

As far as he knows.

Ancient Flame of the Ancients—In the magical world, it seems that only those at the very top of the pyramid, apart from those hidden in the shadows, can wield this ancient magic.

The only person Irving could think of was Dumbledore!

No wonder he frequents the castle.

If the world is being attacked by the undead, then it would be difficult to even resist these immortal monsters, let alone kill them.

But it can completely kill them.

They can only hope that Dumbledore can save them amidst his busy schedule.

"Troublesome~"

Irving sensed something was amiss.

Strange things never happen in the wizarding world without a reason.

Every seemingly inexplicable event has its underlying logic.

This reminds me of Professor Trelawney's prophecy—a dark uprising, the resurrection of the dead, and the reversal of life and death.

This might be referring to the dead.

No—that's not right.

The prophecy points to the future; the dead have already appeared, or even long ago.

They should not be what the prophecy refers to.

What could that be?

Looking back to first and second grade, those things that never happened before must have been caused by myself.

Third grade—all these things that didn't happen in the original story, were also caused by him?

Could it be a chain reaction triggered by Peter Pettigrew rescuing the Death Eaters?

After all, the prophecy also hinted at Voldemort's resurrection.

What kind of conspiracy is that noseless bald guy, Qiang, plotting?

Has he lost his mind?

Or did he take a tonic pill?

They dare to attack Hogwarts directly!

Irving frowned. He realized that the crisis he was facing this time was unprecedented and unfamiliar.

Whether it's the first playthrough or the second playthrough, up until now.

He had never encountered any unexpected events that went beyond the original story.

Even if it exists, it's merely something that happened in the future but has now occurred before our eyes.

What—the dead one.

What?! A dark uprising.

What?! The Lord of the Enchanted Realm.

What is all this?!

He was completely oblivious, as if he had been under a spell that blocked his eyes and ears!

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 banquet ended abruptly.

Irving stole the Marauder's Map from the Twins.

Yes, it was outright robbery!

No matter how desperately George and Fred pretended to resist, they couldn't stop them.

Christmas is less than two days away.

He was staring at the map almost constantly.

He memorized the names of everyone in the castle.

He would recognize any stranger who stepped in.

That night, heavy snow fell outside the castle.

The howling wind whistled against the windowsill, making a hissing sound.

The fireplace in the common room has been extinguished.

Darkness and coldness enveloped the entire room.

"Fluorescent lights!"

"Oh my god! You scared me! Owen." In the middle of the night, Hannah, feeling a little restless, slipped out of bed. For some reason, she couldn't sleep tonight, tossing and turning.

I had intended to get some fresh air in the common lounge, but as soon as I stepped inside, I noticed some shadowy figures in the darkness.

"I couldn't sleep, so I came out to admire the moon," Owen replied without even looking up.

Hannah glanced at the window embedded in the stone, where heavy snow was falling, obscuring the entire castle in a hazy mist.

She could see nothing but darkness.

What moon is there?

Taking a slow breath, Hannah carefully sat down next to Owen. "You've been acting strange lately. What are you worried about?"

"I don't know." Owen huddled on the brown sofa made of some kind of magical animal fur, his right hand resting on the armrest, his head propped up, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes.

Yes, he didn't know!

It's precisely because I don't know that I can't sleep.

He had always been confident of victory.

No matter what happened, it never strayed from a certain framework—the framework of Harry Potter in his mind. But this time was different; the crisis was unprecedented and unfamiliar.

Although it may not be serious, the unknown is the most tormenting.

Having faced death twice, he was no longer afraid of it.

But it's just like playing a video game; you might play worse in your second playthrough than in your first!

How embarrassing would that be if word got out?

Don't I have any pride?

(End of this chapter)