I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 218 Ancient Magic

Irving kept staring at the lake; the jet-black glass always gave him the feeling of a door.

That wasn't a lake at all, but a glass door that could be pushed open to enter another world.

This feeling became clearer and clearer as he got closer to the lake.

Suddenly, Owen realized that this place might not have been built by Voldemort.

Perhaps before him, this place already held a mystique.

"Perhaps this is not just a place where Voldemort buried his soul."

There's something deeper inside.

Owen frowned. He could clearly sense something unseen, an ancient aura emanating from the lake.

"What's wrong? Did you find something?" Dumbledore noticed the change in Owen's expression and asked softly.

"It has a feeling of ancient magic," he said.

"Ancient magic?"

"Hmm! Very strong."

"What ancient magic?" Hermione's voice came through the phone, asking in confusion and asking the same question for Harry.

Owen glanced down at him and then said, "Generally speaking, ancient magic is divided into two types. One is ancient spells, which you can find in the old magic books when you go back to the castle. They are terrifying and powerful spells, and anyone can master them with some time."

Another type refers to a kind of ancient magic, a wondrous magic that has been passed down from ancient times, which only a very special group of wizards can sense, "see," and utilize.

Of course, powerful wizards can also sense that magic, but they don't have the same ease of control as the lucky ones.

The first Dark Lord, who lived over a hundred years ago, was a master of ancient magic.

The secrets beneath Hogwarts Castle are countless, including an ancient room left behind by a Hogwarts professor who could see ancient magic, to guide future young wizards who could also see ancient magic.

As the headmaster, Dumbledore certainly knew these things. Even though he himself could not see the magic, he had heard of its existence from portraits of previous headmasters.

"You can see those ancient magics?" Dumbledore asked, slightly surprised.

Since the first Dark Lord, Hogwarts has never had a second young wizard who can see magic.

One theory is that if the previous person doesn't die, a new person won't be born. This is obviously false, but it does illustrate how rare wizards with such talent are.

"Not before," Irving nodded solemnly, "but it seems like I can now."

Kyrie Irving never lies, nor does he need to lie about things like this.

If he could see ancient magic before, how could he have been ambushed by Neville in the first playthrough?

Just kidding, if you don't make him poop, consider it a clean spit.

He also searched for the mysterious room located beneath Hogwarts during this first playthrough, but the reality was that he could find the location but couldn't get in; the door could only be opened with ancient magic.

He does know a few ancient spells, but they're not very useful, since Dumbledore knows them too.

It wasn't a spell that opened the room's door, but magic.

Without that magical power to transform everything, nothing is of any use.

This situation changed a few months ago.

Ever since Owen crawled out of the centaur's coffin, he found that his senses seemed to have been amplified, and he could easily detect the subtle magical energy flowing in the air.

Irving initially thought it was a blessing left to him by his teacher, Chiron, but now it seems that the blessing is a bit too outrageous.

"Right in the middle of the lake, I could see some fluorescent-like substances moving around."

In Irving's vision, there were faint, bright silver threads in the sky. These threads converged and swirled into a small vortex on the island in the center of the lake. It was like a torch in the darkness, quite conspicuous, and anyone who wasn't blind could see it.

"Let's go over there now," Sirius said urgently. He didn't care whether Owen could see any strange magic.

His urgent need was to find his younger brother immediately.

"There's a boat," Kreacher remembered, "but it doesn't know where it is." Hearing Sirius's question, Kreacher excitedly shouted in its bullfrog voice.

It pointed at the lake and leaned its body forward, as if it were about to jump into the water.

On the other side, Irving slowly raised his hand.

He was trying to control the ancient magic that roamed the air.

那并不容易。

They are a hundred times harder to control than a wizard's magic; they are like swimming fish, and he can only catch a sliver of them by frantically chasing and intercepting them.

"Close your eyes!" Just then, Dumbledore's voice suddenly rang out.

He placed a hand on Irving's shoulder, muttering some inexplicable incantation. The next second, a sense of clarity suddenly flooded Irving's mind. He slowly closed his eyes, but he could still see the world.

The world appears as black and white in his "vision" with varying shades.

The ancient magic that had traveled through the world seemed to have been affected by a barrier spell, its activity slowed down.

"this--"

Irving knew that it wasn't that the outside world had slowed down, but rather that his own thinking had sped up.

The next moment, he did not hesitate.

Raise your wand immediately.

A thick white lightning bolt shot out, its woven magic net tightly binding the ancient magic that had been traveling.

"I caught them!" he shouted excitedly.

A surge of magical energy stirred the wind, causing it to ruffle the hair at his temples. It carried away the boy's fervent spirit, sending it drifting into the distance.

"Now, listen to me!" He unleashed his magic again, and this time nothing could stop him.

He completely tamed ancient magic.

Immediately afterwards, it surged into his body like mist.

"Phew~"

He took a deep breath, and his body leaped with joy.

It was as if the parched earth had received rain.

"Comfortable!"

During this wondrous process, he easily spotted a magical ship on the lake.

Then, he cast a spell on the ship.

"Kreacher is right," Owen grinned.

Then a ripple suddenly appeared on the lake surface, and a huge iron chain suddenly emerged from the water, which he firmly grasped in his hand.

"There is a boat."

Irving slowly opened his eyes, and for a fleeting moment, his gray eyes flashed red.

But soon, the red light disappeared.

He gripped the chain, handed one end to Hermione, and the two of them pulled, and the invisible ship, seemingly without gravity, began to slowly sail towards them.

Actually, he was just trying to see if he could grab the ship's chain.

But to my surprise, it succeeded on the first try.

Even if he failed, Owen wouldn't care; he had other ways. Riddle only forbade magical items from crossing the lake, but he could use physical means. He could carve a hole in the mountainside on either side, string a cable across, nail the other end into the island, and swing across using the cable.

He has a hundred ways to get there, but Riddle's integrity is beyond imagination.

"Stunning," Dumbledore said slowly.

His deep blue eyes were filled with surprise and curiosity.

He has always been very tolerant of the unknown and is more willing to spend time studying it.

This is perhaps why he is different from all the previous principals.

If it were any other Hogwarts headmaster in the past, upon discovering that one of their students possessed this magic, they would have advised the student to give up using it.

But Dumbledore wouldn't.

Absolute strength brings absolute confidence, and he will not limit the development of a young wizard because of a little ancient magic.

The old headmaster was too strong, so strong that no one dared to scheme against him, especially given the precedent of Voldemort.

"What kind of magic is that?" he asked curiously. "Could you tell me more about it?"

The group boarded the small boat one after another.

The boat, propelled by magic, was remarkably stable, much like a car driving on a highway.

"It seems to be a kind of magic that can directly transform matter." Owen gently raised his wand, and a silvery-white light shone at the tip of the wand. Then, the magic generated fine stones.

Those stones, it seemed, were controlled by him, every atom of them. Under his thoughts, the stones constantly changed shape, sometimes becoming wood, sometimes water, and sometimes a baguette.

Especially the moment it turns into a baguette.

A hint of surprise flashed in Professor Dumbledore's eyes.

Even Hermione noticed it.

Because they learned the basic transfiguration rules of Gamp in their first year.

Wizards cannot conjure delicious food out of thin air, but if they know where the food is, they can summon it. If they have some food on hand, they can also use magic to change or increase it.

But you can't conjure food out of thin air.

Because wizards cannot directly create anything; they can only "transform." Turning wood into a chair is still wood, and turning stone into jade is still stone. But if you turn it into food, what you eat is still the original thing, not food.

But the baguette in Irving's hand was different; he truly altered the structure of matter, creating something entirely new.

"This feels amazing, like I can create anything I want."

"Even"

"Life is not to be profaned, child. Remember that," Dumbledore interrupted him appropriately. "Never go down that path."

"I was just saying." Owen casually tossed the French weapon in his hand into the lake.

With a muffled thud as the stone entered the water, countless white arms suddenly emerged, and more and more gathered. In no time, the area where the stone had entered the water was covered with human limbs.

It's like boiling water.

The carnage of corpses engulfed the area without warning. Like drowning people, they waved their hands helplessly and frantically, trying to grab onto something, but alas, there was nothing there.

"Oh my god!" Hermione exclaimed.

The hand gripping his arm suddenly tightened, almost making Owen cry out in pain.

"What's the rush!" he said dismissively.

"With Professor Dumbledore here, you're still panicking! Do you look down on me, the greatest white wizard?"

"Forehead"

After being scolded by Owen, Hermione immediately felt more relaxed, mainly because she was angry, and her anger offset some of her fear.

"How many people did Voldemort kill?" Harry asked blankly.

He had never really grasped the significance of Voldemort's dark reign before. But now, he finally realized just how terrifying a demon he was facing.

"I'd guess it's the entire town's population, a few hundred? Or a few thousand?"

"Several thousand!" Harry exclaimed.

His eyes suddenly became unfocused.

There weren't even a few thousand people in the entire Hogwarts, so that doesn't mean Voldemort killed almost the entire school.

This is simply a demon.

Sirius Black—he said nothing.

He just stared blankly.

Because he knew that his brother was among these undead.

His foolish yet more responsible younger brother.

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.

Irving's tactic of changing the subject was very effective.

Even Dumbledore fell silent for a moment.

Like Sirius, he gazed intently at the lake, his eyes filled with disappointment, as if it were all his fault.

A few minutes later, the small boat gently bumped into something and came to a stop.

"We've arrived." The old headmaster finally broke free from his response.

Everyone disembarked one by one.

Then began the arduous task of finding a place to settle on this small island, which was only about a quarter the size of the Hufflepuff common room and filled with pebbles and stalagmites.

The only relatively stable place here is at the very center, an ancient-style round stone basin emitting a faint green glow.

Dumbledore approached the stone basin, and the others hurriedly followed.

They stood side by side around the stone basin, which was filled with a shimmering, phosphorescent liquid.

"Another silly little trick by Senior Tom." Owen glanced at the potion in the stone basin, slightly puzzled as to why he would go to such lengths.

Why not just seal the pendant box permanently inside the stone? Instead, they had to use a magic potion, as if they were afraid someone wouldn't be able to retrieve it.

"A very clever mechanism." Dumbledore smiled faintly, then observed it for a moment, before rolling up his sleeve and extending a finger, wanting to touch the potion in the stone basin directly.

"Wait, Professor!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise.

He quickly stopped her.

But—she was met with the old professor's benevolent smile, "Don't worry, Granger, look, I can't even touch the potion."

"I think I must use the spoon next to it to touch the potion."

"Tom cast more than a dozen different spells here to ensure that the potion in the stone basin could not be burned, poured out, or dissolved in the earth."

As he spoke, it seemed as if he were verifying his words.

Dumbledore picked up the shell-shaped spoon, scooped up a spoonful, and then sprinkled it on the ground.

In an instant, the potions on the ground vanished as if no one had ever poured them out, while the potions in the stone basin, which had decreased, instantly returned to their original amount.

"What do you think he wants us to do?" Dumbledore blinked and looked at Hermione.

"He—" the little witch pursed her lips, then said with difficulty, "He wants us to drink the potion."

"Yes, that's exactly what he was thinking," Dumbledore said slowly. Then he turned to Owen, "Do you have any way to prevent us from drinking the potion?"

"Yes!" Owen rolled his eyes at the old principal. "You never forget to give me a test, no matter when."

"Just don't drink it!"

"."

That makes so much sense, we were speechless.

The wizards standing nearby all had black lines on their faces.

Can't this guy just tone down his unreliable nature?

"I don't want to comment on Tom's mechanisms, because that would only make me feel like my intelligence has been insulted!"

"If it were me, I'd pour some DDT in it, and one gulp and I'd be instantly dead. Slow-acting poisons are just stupid!"

Also, is he out of his mind? This mechanism is way too easy to crack!

Before coming, prepare a few rats, put the potion in their mouths, or carry a box with an infinite extension charm to let the potion leave the area. Will his spell still work?

Or, to put it more simply, I don't want to take anything out of it; let's just destroy it!

I'll use the Fiery Curse to cleanse the ground! Whether it's a stone basin or a Horcrux, they'll all disappear!

Why go through all that trouble to remove it? Are you sick?

Owen continued rambling on, his words revealing his deep concern about Voldemort's intelligence.

"I always felt that creating Horcruxes and splitting the soul is detrimental to intelligence, and now it seems that's true. Senior Tom is really suffering from this. In a few years, his intelligence will be almost catching up with Justin's."

"."

Dumbledore was startled when he heard the voice.

Because he realized that what Irving said didn't seem to be wrong.

If he knew in advance that his Horcrux was inside, why did he take it out?

Why not just blow this place up, along with the cave, and make the whole area disappear together?

Thinking about it, he suddenly shook his head.

It seems that his wizarding mindset has indeed limited him.

Sometimes, Irving's unconventional and wildly imaginative ideas can actually lead to unique insights.

"Alright, now is not the time to discuss Voldemort's stupidity." Sirius abruptly interrupted their thoughts.

"Kreacher, please tell me the location where Regulus was dragged into the lake."

"Here you are, sir!" Kreacher had been crying ever since he landed on the island, and now he wiped away the tears that were about to fall into his mouth and walked to a certain place.

"Young master, it's right here! Young Master Regulus fell into the water right here!" it cried out, pointing to a section of the lake.

"Very good." Dumbledore looked around, especially at Owen, and said, "Raise your wands and stand behind me."

"In a moment, an endless stream of undead might rush up," he said.

Upon hearing the sound, everyone focused their attention, gripped their wands tightly, and nervously watched the lake.

Fighting a corpse is never a pleasant experience.

Apart from Irving.

Small-scale operations are just clever tricks. Back when he played Resident Evil, the zombie hordes he created were truly mountains and seas of corpses.

As a soul deeply influenced by various zombie themes in the 21st century, he could spot a zombie-related social anxiety if a real zombie appeared on the street.

Unfortunately, he didn't have a Silver Killer weapon; that thing was only good for the sixth-ranked player in Biohazard mode.

"Don't worry, don't panic, don't panic." He turned to Harry and Hermione, his reassuring gaze and soft tone masking an overbearing arrogance: "I've seen more zombies than you've eaten salt. A few thousand is nothing. I'm worth millions in a game, I'm not messing with you!"

(End of this chapter)