I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 183 The Storyteller, Owen

That idiot Herman Caro.

He looked at himself and his gaze became increasingly distorted.

It was as if he had already begun to think about how to dismember himself into eight pieces.

His greasy eyes even made Kyrie Irving, a seasoned and ruthless man, think he was weird.

He had no doubt that the old man had done some dark magic experiments on young wizards.

Furthermore, he believed that those captured by this lewd old man with a strong savage aura were definitely Muggle-born or half-bloods, the children of wizards whom purebloods considered traitors.

Lost~

It's hard to imagine that Dumbledore would let someone like that live in this world.

"What a waste of air!"

Irving shook his head. His eyes grew increasingly dangerous.

The other party saw him as a fish on a chopping board.

He saw the other person as a skeleton in a graveyard.

Um--

Since he's already said it.

He was now Dumbledore's successor.

Then let him, the successor, correct the old principal's mistakes!

"In that case, they must be Voldemort's dogs?"

"Interesting. When did he start hanging out with the Deadborn?" Owen raised an eyebrow, making no attempt to hide his mockery of Voldemort.

"Could it be that they're trying to escape death and end up becoming a being born from death? Turning from a human into an animal?"

"Oh no, he's become an animal, a snake!"

"What did you say?!" The surrounding Death Eaters instantly erupted in chaos.

Their gazes shifted from mockery to fury in an instant. Each one stared intently at Owen with bloodthirsty yet cautious eyes.

Although the Death Eaters were on the verge of a violent uprising.

Yes, Kyrie.

That demon had a tremendous psychological impact on the Death Eaters in Azkaban.

To be frank.

Most of them were filled with fear of children under the age of fourteen.

That kind of fear only exists when facing Voldemort.

"Hmph~" the evil spirit snorted softly.

Those cautious eyes naturally fell into his notice as well.

Yes!

fear!

The most primal fear.

The long period of peace in Azkaban had eroded their already dwindling courage.

Being more insane does not equate to being fearless of death.

And now.

It was precisely at this moment that this seed of fear began to sprout and grow strong.

It will transform into its most indestructible wings.

Those wings were enough for him to cut through the darkness.

Ultimately, it will become another source of fear, replacing the current source of fear.

"You have great talent, young man," old Herman Caro said, still with the same haughty air he always had, uttering the dying words that every villain would say.

"You should join us. Here, you will learn magic far surpassing that of Hogwarts. That is true magic!"

His eyes burned with passion.

His tone was completely nonchalant.

He wasn't prepared to waste too much energy on Owen, even though Bella had told him countless times about how terrifying the boy was.

"Really?" Upon hearing this, Owen smiled shyly, waved his hand, and summoned Sirocco over.

The little thing leaped into his arms.

"But I have a question!" he said slowly, stroking Sirocco's head.

"Speak!" Old Herman Caro said fearlessly, spreading his arms wide.

It was as if time had turned back thirty years.

"Exactly!"

next second.

Suddenly, a golden light shone from Sirocco's body.

Then, Irving disappeared from the spot.

When he reappears.

They had already reached the back of that self-righteous idiot.

"Avada~"

Death raises its scythe.

"Take my life!"

The next second, the scythe fell.

A foolish soul was taken away by death.

There were no obstacles at all; it was as easy as eating and drinking!

"How could someone as weak as you say such a thing?"

"Isn't that right, my dear Death Eaters!"

"Hahaha~"

A maniacal and extremely cruel laugh came from Irving's mouth.

He was like a demon from the frontier of hell, excitedly eyeing the prey that had walked right into his trap.

From the moment he entered the Forbidden Forest, Irving had been fighting against the Deadborn.

The unkillable monster caused him unbearable pain.

Kyrie Irving was starting to wonder if he needed to sharpen his knife; how could it be so dull?

"Bang!"

The bystander character fell to the ground.

A flurry of snowflakes was stirred up.

The next second, as if a signal had been triggered, countless spells attacked him.

Colorful spells, carrying an aura of destruction or death, spread throughout the Forbidden Forest.

But the only response to death was a series of maniacal laughs.

Irving was mocking death, and also mocking these overconfident Death Eaters.

"Why are you so serious?"

His figure echoed through the forest.

It was accompanied by a constant flash of golden light.

Irving's figure became illusory and blurry, a visual afterimage left behind due to his excessive speed.

"How about I tell you a story?" he said.

"A long time ago."

"My father was in Africa at that time, a Muggle mercenary, just like you. He and a few friends worked for the local Muggle government, which wanted to use some gems to appease the tribal chiefs."

"In France, this happens all the time."

In the darkness, the light still flickered. After each flicker, a green light would illuminate.

Perhaps that green light took away a soul, but no one noticed.

"But in a forest in North West Africa, the gem was stolen by a bandit."

"After that, my father was ordered to investigate the whereabouts of these gems."

In the forest, every flash of golden light illuminated the Death Eaters' astonished expressions, whether they were tense, fearful, or hesitant; in short, everyone was screaming wildly.

The sounds of curses, screams, and falls were incessant.

"For six months, he didn't make any deals with anyone. One day, my father saw a little boy playing with a red gem the size of an orange by the roadside. It turned out that the bandit had thrown away all the gems."

The sounds rose and fell like a symphony.

As the music reached its climax, the golden light began to create afterimages.

"He thought it was fun, so he threw it away."

"Some people don't want something as logical as money. You can't buy them off or threaten them, and you certainly can't reason with them or negotiate properly."

The story of the demon continues; he seems to appear in every place at the same time.

One person overwhelmed the entire Death Eaters!

Sometimes, some people just love it when the world goes crazy!

"Soul Torrent!"

A single flash creates distance.

A ghostly figure raised his wand high, and terrifying magic flowed into the wand from his hand, followed by invisible waves that spread outwards.

A certain rhythm danced at the tip of his staff.

Then he shoved the wand forward with a sudden thrust.

A dazzling blue beam of light, like flowing water or silk woven from light, instantly engulfed all the Death Eaters present.

The powerful magic kept the torrent flowing for several seconds before it slowly dissipated.

"What a pity~"

Looking at the Death Eater lying unconscious in the woods, Owen pursed his lips, seemingly not entirely satisfied with his victory.

Although he had just used Sirocco's teleportation ability to unleash a powerful burst of damage.

But the results weren't very good.

Apart from that idiot, there was nothing else on the ground.

Only two Death Eaters fell.

This is somewhat awkward.

There was no way around it; he was just too fast. He wasn't Minato Namikaze, and casting spells with a wand was like aiming a gun—it required precision.

Randomly casting spells is a foolish act.

He was disgusted by the dead and acted impulsively in a moment of anger.

Now, Sirocco was so tired that she curled up in his arms.

He used all his Flash abilities at once.

Now that my skills are on cooldown, I have no strength left to fight!

But...

Fear is a good medicine.

Look how cowardly the Death Eaters are after taking the drug.

Even though he clearly had little room to escape, they made people afraid to make any rash moves.

That's why he uses flashy attacks and storytelling.

Fear, oh! Fear, in the end, will produce sweet fruit.

Let's go!

He whispered to Sirius.

At this moment, the dog godfather was still in a daze. He looked at the boy who looked like a demon with great surprise, and his eyes were filled with the most primal fear.

Is this really just a fourteen-year-old child?

------

On the other side, Hogwarts Castle.

Inside the auditorium.

Harry and Hermione sat anxiously on the Gryffindor bench, among the other young wizards around them.

The flames in the brazier rose, continuously supplying heat, making the entire auditorium warm yet dry.

"We can't just stay here and do nothing, Hermione!" Harry turned sharply, then said irritably, "The castle has been attacked by outsiders, and I guarantee it was that unkillable monster that attacked Professor Lupin."

"No, Harry!" Hermione shook her head and quickly stopped him. "We can't beat him. We shouldn't cause trouble for the professor and the Aurors right now."

"I"

Hearing her words, Harry gripped his wand tightly and remained silent.

Sitting here, waiting, as if facing a judgment from fate, is truly unpleasant.

He would rather go out and fight the enemy!

At least he tried.

Instead of staying here and waiting to die, like we are now.

Everyone, including Ron and Neville, turned to look at Harry.

They weren't really keen on staying here either.

The junior wizards from the other three houses were unwilling to stay here.

The atmosphere in the auditorium was very unpleasant.

The atmosphere was oppressive, gloomy, and terrifying, as if they were a flock of lambs to the slaughter.

They could be killed at any moment.

"The professors won't let us out!" Hermione glanced at the podium, where, apart from Professor Dumbledore, none of the other professors were present.

Even Professor McGonagall has disappeared without a trace.

"We don't need the professor's permission!" Harry said irritably.

"We're not children anymore. Owen isn't on this Hufflepuff bench. Where is he? He..."

Before Harry could finish speaking, a muffled explosion came from outside the castle.

Then the auditorium doors were pushed open.

The young wizards instinctively looked towards the doorway.

Suddenly, a ball of silver light rushed in.

Then a graceful, shimmering lynx peeked out from the light.

A voice then rang out.

That was a voice familiar to Harry and Hermione.

The voice came from an Auror named Kingsley Shackle.

"They're here! Minister of Magic Fudge is dead. Dumbledore, we need your help!"

Having said that, the lynx guardian spirit transformed into a beam of light and vanished from the spot.

"???"

"What did he just say?" Harry asked urgently, looking at Hermione with shock in his eyes.

He was met with Hermione's equally incredulous gaze.

"Fudge. Fudge is dead?"

"Fudge is dead?"

"The Minister of Magic is dead?"

Has the Ministry of Magic collapsed?

"What happened?"

In an instant, all the young wizards in the hall began to scream and shout like madmen.

They talked to each other without any restraint.

The sound almost blew the ceiling off the auditorium.

"Quiet!!!"

At this moment, Dumbledore stood up, and with the blessing of the Loud Voice Charm, his majestic voice penetrated into the ears of every young wizard.

Having said that, he stood up and walked through the young wizards.

Then we went through the auditorium doors.

Harry, along with Hermione and the other young wizards, followed him in bewilderment.

They came to the doorway with Dumbledore.

Standing on the high ground of the gate, everyone could see the towering flames in the distance.

Flashes of various spells and screams carried by the wind filled the air.

That's Hogsmeade Village!

"Oh my god!" Hermione exclaimed.

Even though it was so far away, she could imagine what kind of battle was taking place there.

"Look over there!" Harry exclaimed as he noticed one side of the Forbidden Forest.

That seemed to be the edge of the sky, where the same flames soared into the heavens.

A cold wind blew, and for a moment everyone present felt a chill run down their spines.

Darkness surged in the sky.

Countless dark clouds swept past, cheering and leaping with joy. Their sheer number was astonishing.

In an instant, the entire castle was enveloped in a sense of despair and coldness.

The cold air slowly descended from the high sky.

Harry felt his happiness rapidly disappearing.

Then came a series of frustrating and painful memories.

"Oh my god, it's snowing. Are those all Dementors?"

In the darkness, white snowflakes began to fall, and then they came without giving anyone any time to prepare.

Suddenly, a heavy snowfall struck.

Just as all the young wizards were cautiously pulling out their wands from their pockets, ready for any eventuality.

In the distance, a few people walked towards us from the bridge of the castle.

The one leading them was a wizard with a serious expression.

He stood ramrod straight, his movements stiff, wearing an immaculate black robe and gleaming shoes. His striking short beard looked as if it had been trimmed with a ruler.

Harry had never seen any wizard with such a rigorous lifestyle.

If it weren't for the wizard's robes he was wearing, he would have mistaken this guy for his uncle's manager.

Beside him was a woman dressed in peach-colored clothes who looked like a pale, large toad.

She was short and fat, with a broad, loose face, a large mouth that drooped down, and large, round eyes that protruded slightly outwards.

"Albus!"

The visitors were none other than Barty Crouch, the then Director of the International Department of Magical Exchange, and his assistant, Umbridge.

"What happened?" The old headmaster shielded the group of young wizards behind him.

Never before had his face shown such caution as it did today.

He asked before Barty Crouch even got close.

Upon hearing this, the highly respected official in the Ministry of Magic stopped in his tracks and said in an urgent and worried tone, "The Minister of Magic is dead."

I worked overtime until after 9 pm today and didn't get home until 10 pm. After eating, I didn't have time to write this. So frustrating! So frustrating!

(End of this chapter)