I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 209 Rozier – Always the Winner.

Other rarer varieties, with their large petals and vibrant colors, resembling roses that could drip blood, stand proudly above the rest.

Like the flowers that make up Swann Rozier, Wenda Rozier, and her mother.

They are all larger and more vibrant than the others.

Gradually, European civilization came to understand.

The so-called heir is a figure like the head of the family who leads the family down; their offspring are larger.

Other ordinary family members are even younger.

In addition, he noticed that the stamen of the rose that made up Wenda's was not golden, but white.

What does this mean?

"That means being expelled from the family."

Principal Black seemed to notice the confusion in Owen's eyes as he gazed at Wenda's roses.

"The Rozier family's unique labeling method."

"White represents being removed from the list, and removing the flowers represents severing ties with her."

"Oh, I see!" Irving nodded.

He, as an outsider, really didn't know much about the affairs of these pure-blood families.

In this respect, he is not even as good as Sirius.

Although he betrayed Blake, he at least had access to the family's knowledge.

"You're never too old to learn!" he said in a strangely mocking tone.

Using his wand, he carefully chanted the cutting spell, precisely controlling his magic power.

He poked a small hole in his index finger.

"Ah~~~ I'm injured, I'm injured!" He gripped his index finger and then smeared the blood that wouldn't drip onto the stamen of the rose that represented him.

"I need to go to Madam Pomfrey and get a potion to wipe it off."

"It's healed!" came a roar from Principal Blake's portrait.

Principal Delis De Winter also laughed out loud.

"Oh! It really healed." Owen rubbed his finger. Apart from a tiny, almost negligible amount of blood, there was no sign of any more blood flowing out.

And the flower stained with his blood suddenly bloomed.

It suddenly grew bigger, as if someone had pulled up a seedling to help it grow.

It felt like a rosebud had turned into a marigold.

"Wow!" Owen stared in astonishment at the family tree in front of him. "How does it identify that the blood belongs to the person, and how does it confirm that the person is from the Rozier family?"

He looked at it with envy, knowing that the magical technology contained in the thing in front of him was definitely not low.

Unfortunately, no one answered his question.

Not all headmasters made outstanding contributions to alchemy like Dumbledore.

"Alright. I can write to Nick." He then turned to the association's liaison officer. "Sir, what should we do next?"

"I," Mr. Basil, had a clear glint of foolishness in my brown eyes.

It's practically written all over their face that they know nothing about me and that I shouldn't ask them anything.

Well, he's a very typical deliveryman.

Irving sighed, not expecting to get anything out of him.

"So what's the point of having an heir? I thought I'd be set for life, with an endless supply of Galleons," Owen muttered to himself, then glanced at the pillar beside him and said casually, "Want to grab a quick bite downstairs?"

"Okay!" Mr. Basil immediately perked up when the topic of food came up.

The two eyes regained focus from their blankness.

It looks like they've turned on their goggles.

Ha—still just a lazy bum!

He bent down to put away the family tree belonging to the Rozier family. It was quite magical. The moment his fingers touched the bluish-gray paper, the rose tree seemed to rewind time and then slowly returned to the paper.

"Amazing, truly amazing," he exclaimed, then picked it up.

"Hmm, it's clear they definitely hired a master alchemist when creating this family tree, or perhaps the Rozier family produced a master alchemist in the past?"

As he spoke, Irving folded the family tree again, twisting it several times before putting it in his pocket.

Just as he was about to leave, a small card, no bigger than the palm of his hand, fell out of the family tree.

"What is this?" A large rose blooms on a white card with gold trim.

The stamens of the rose formed a magic wand.

Below it is printed a sentence: "Elegance never goes out of style."

Could this be a family motto of the Rozier family?

Irving guessed as he flipped over the card.

—To Irving Undine Rozier

By the time you see this letter, Dumbledore will probably have won!

But I didn't lose either.

Right, the kid named Irving.

—Swan Salamander Rozier left.

A sinister and eerie atmosphere wafted over me.

These few words seem to explain that the witch named Swann attempted to fight Dumbledore. But she failed.

Obviously, she lost her life.

But she said she had not failed.

And his name was called out.

This means that although she failed, the Rozier family did not fail, because no matter what, the blood of this family flows in his veins. Among the four forces in the magical world—the Guild, the Saints, the Death Eaters, and now Hogwarts—there is him.

This family has influence in almost every power.

In other words, no matter which side wins in the end, the Rozier family will remain invincible.

And now that she has relinquished the position of head of the family to me, does that mean she favors Dumbledore more?

"Boring family feuds." Owen chuckled, then put the card back into his pocket.

"Mediocrity is the root of all evil. Reaching out everywhere will only arouse everyone's disgust."

He said something inexplicable to himself.

Then a smile returned to his face.

Irving gestured for Mr. Basil to leave the office and head to the auditorium.

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.

As he walked up the spiral staircase, young Basil's eyes never stopped darting around. He looked around, his gaze constantly sweeping over the portraits on the walls, and he was particularly interested in the bright sky on the ceiling and the spiral staircase beneath his feet.

Which school did you graduate from?

Just by looking at him, you can tell he's definitely not a Hogwarts student.

"Iphamoni," he muttered blankly, his eyes still darting around.

"Oh! Look, sister."

Owen feigned surprise and said, "That's a great place. I heard there's a snake tree at your school; its leaves have powerful medicinal properties."

"Yes, that is our treasure of Iphamoni," Mr. Basil said proudly.

He gradually withdrew his gaze, his initial expression of curiosity replaced by a strange sense of superiority.

As an outstanding graduate of Iphamoni, he had to make a name for himself in this unfamiliar school, or he would be looked down upon.

That's what Mr. Basil thought.

"Hogwarts has many treasures, including relics left by the four founders, each a legendary magical artifact. The spiral staircase we are standing on now was built by Rowena Ravenclaw, the founder of Ravenclaw. There are also many mysterious places in the castle." Owen noticed the gentleman's sense of superiority.

A subtle debate arose in my heart between father and son.

While the British Empire may have reversed its father-son relationship, the wizarding world is quite different. In recent years, the American wizarding world has developed rapidly. After World War II, like the Muggle nations established on that land, it has widely absorbed wizards from other regions.

Today, its prosperity even surpasses that of the British magical world.

However, although the British Ministry of Magic is showing signs of decline, it remains one of the world's leading magical authorities. Its rich history and archaeological research ensure it still holds some advantages.

Although this advantage fades quickly.

It won't be long before other countries surpass us.

But at least not now.

"I heard that the founder of Iphamoni was from England!"

"You can see everywhere that she is a descendant of Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts, and dreamed all her life of going to Hogwarts. Unfortunately, she had a wicked aunt who prevented her from going to Hogwarts. Later, that lady fled to America. Based on the descriptions of Hogwarts that she heard from her aunt, and her own imagination, she built Ilvermorny, which also has four houses."

Owen gave a lengthy account of the history of Iphamoni, truths that had long been lost to the annals of history.

American magical history only records that the founder of Evamony came from England and was persecuted.

However, no specific details were recorded.

This is after Irving revealed the truth.

Mr. Basil's expression immediately turned sour.

He may have felt offended, as well as by his alma mater, even if everything Irving said was true.

"Iphamoni is a great magic school. It cannot be slandered," he said seriously, his gaze towards Owen turning hostile. "It is the greatest magic school in the world."

"We are open and inclusive, and were the first magic school to accept wizards of Muggle (American Muggle) origin to study at our academy."

We have been united in our struggle against the Puritans in the New World for over a century.

"We excel at innovation. Whether it's North America or South America, whether it's traditional European spells or African hand gesture magic, Iphamoni embraces and innovates, teaching so much magic that you could never learn it all in a lifetime," Mr. Basil said proudly.

His arrogant words drew constant criticism from the portraits on the wall.

"Arrogant brat! When Hogwarts was founded, your America was still a swamp and hilly region!"

"What is Iphamoni? I've never even heard of it. Is it some kind of make-believe school?"

"Didn't you hear what that kid said? Your founder even wanted to study at Hogwarts! It's just that she didn't have the chance!"

Most of the murals in Hogwarts Castle depict wizards from England.

Moreover, they were all renowned wizards who had made outstanding contributions. When they started arguing, Mr. Basil blushed because he noticed that many of the figures in the portraits on the wall had appeared in his textbooks from his school days.

This made him somewhat uncomfortable, but he did not raise both hands and reveal the white pieces.

After all, he's American, not French.

"To be honest, having a long history isn't anything special," he said stiffly.

"I've heard of Hogwarts. Last year, the European Wizarding Gazette published a news article saying that a young wizard from Hogwarts defeated hundreds of Dementors."

Hmph—that's a complete and utter lie!

A twelve or thirteen-year-old wizard is considered excellent if he can even make his wand glow with a tiny bit of guardian light—to defeat hundreds of them is simply ridiculous!

It's clear that this school hasn't taught its students what humility is.

"Hahaha!!!" Mr. Basil's words successfully made the wizards in the portrait laugh uproariously.

There was even a medieval noblewoman who knocked over her precious teacup from the Ming Dynasty in the Far East.

But she didn't feel any regret at all. Instead, she laughed until tears streamed down her face.

"You ignorant frog in a well!" an old wizard sternly rebuked.

"Hogwarts is the greatest magic school in the world." His booming voice echoed down the stairs.

"Patron Charm—Grab any young wizard, and if they don't know how, you can move my portrait out of here and burn it!"

"Hehe! Owen, give it a show and make it shut its mouth!"

Suddenly, a ghost emerged from the wall.

That was Sir Nicholas of Gryffindor, almost headless Nick.

After the Deathborn One was destroyed, his soul power returned to his petrified spirit body.

Unburdened by physical ailments, ghosts recover much faster than wizards.

"Sir, you look the same as always."

"Better than ever!" Nick waved his fist, flexing his muscles.

"Quickly, let him see what's what! This arrogant bastard!"

"No need! I can just find anyone to cast such a simple spell." As he spoke, Owen's gaze swept across the revolving corridor, finally landing on Neville, who looked delighted.

He was all smiles, as if he were enveloped in honey.

"Hey Neville, give me a Patronus Charm. This idiot Ilvermorny doesn't believe a young wizard from Hogwarts can cast such a spell."

"Huh?" Neville, who was about to have lunch in the auditorium, looked up blankly.

He had just received a letter from his grandmother.

His parents seemed to regain some consciousness, though not much, and his father called out his grandmother's name for the first time in twelve years.

Good heavens!

What a joyful thing this is!

Filled with sweetness, Neville did not question Owen. He took out his wand, gently waved it with his father's wand, and chanted a spell.

"Protect the Gods!"

The next second, a majestic lion leaped from the tip of his wand.

The tiger's roar echoed throughout the entire staircase.

"Wow! A real Gryffindor!" Nick's eyes lit up, and he exclaimed enthusiastically.

In reality, Neville is not very successful at summoning a physical guardian.

He could mostly only summon a ball of light, even though he had been practicing the spell very hard. Owen guessed that this might be related to his past experiences.

Poor Neville lost his parents at a young age, leaving a huge void in his heart.

This also makes it more difficult for him to use the Guardian Spell than others.

"My God!" Mr. Basil's eyes widened as he looked at Neville with disbelief.

A complete physical guardian spirit, and it originated from the hands of a child who looked only thirteen or fourteen years old.

How is that possible!

In an instant, he felt as if part of his worldview had collapsed.

"But—while I admit that summoning a physical guardian at this age is quite remarkable, there are hundreds of Dementors." Even though the tiger was imposing and close at hand, Mr. Basil was still trying to argue.

He simply couldn't believe that a mere wizard could possess such power, enough to fight against hundreds of Dementors.

"Think what you want!" Seeing that the man was still being stubborn, Owen lost the will to continue arguing with him.

You can never wake someone who is pretending to be asleep.

Since that's the case, let him live in his own narrow world.

Then he went to Neville and asked him if he had any good news lately.

The Gryffindor swordsman responded with a smile, but did not tell him the reason.

The two walked on until they reached the top of the spiral staircase.

"If I find you two experimenting on young wizards again, you'd better pack your things and move out of Gryffindor Tower."

As they entered the entrance hall, they encountered Professor McGonagall, who was reprimanding the Weasley twins in front of the hall.

The professor's expression was stern.

The two Wesleys were trembling.

"Huh? You're done?" As if sensing someone coming from behind, Professor McGonagall turned around and saw Owen and Neville leading Mr. Basil.

"Yes! I brought Mr. Basil to the auditorium for dinner. Honestly, the president of that federation doesn't care about his subordinates at all, just leaving them in his office, which is disheartening."

Irving said this, emphasizing the word "eat".

Mr. Basil's face darkened even more in an instant.

It seems like he's just here to freeload a meal.

"Albus doesn't know about this," Professor McGonagall explained.

"That's even more disheartening. Mr. Basil traveled all the way to Hogwarts, and he didn't even know." Then, Blackie changed the subject, "But thankfully, we Hufflepuffs are all kind-hearted. We can't let our guests go home hungry."

He pointed towards the auditorium.

He feigned enthusiasm, saying, "Please feel free to sit down, order your favorite juice and a steak, and enjoy this pleasant afternoon."

"Of course, I don't know about the young wizards in Evamony, but the young wizards at Hogwarts are a little bit lively. You might encounter some well-intentioned, absolutely malicious pranks during your meal. Trust me, this is our way of welcoming outsiders."

As you know, as the oldest magic school in all of Europe, unlike those newer schools, Hogwarts has many unseen but real rules that you must abide by. Of course, I believe that Mr. Basil, as a gentleman, certainly understands and supports us.

Perhaps you don't know, but I've actually heard of your Evamonny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You also have four houses, right? I know about the Water Serpent House and the Thunderbird House. Hufflepuff, yes, that's my house, a very excellent, diligent, kind, sincere, and friendly house. The most famous senior, Mr. Newt Scamander, you should have heard of him, the author of the world-class book "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them." His wife is an Evamonny witch, so it seems we have quite a connection.

Mrs. Scamander and Newt got along very well, just like us today; we're sure to have a very pleasant time together!

(End of this chapter)