I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 236 Iron Curtain

Outside the stands, in that enormous, pyramid-shaped steel jungle.

On that viewing platform.

Suddenly a group of people came into the little wizard's view.

The Malfoys entered from behind Barty Crouch.

Lucius smiled, abandoning the arrogant demeanor of the Malfoy family, and shook hands amiably with every "important person" present.

Apart from Sirius Black, who showed him absolutely no respect, everyone else, including Dumbledore, responded with a smile.

Then more and more representatives of pure-blooded families appeared in that private room.

The French families of Lestrange, Burke, Burst, Parkinson, and Yaxley.

Many ancient families, some of which the general public thought were extinct, have reappeared.

Miss Granger's face darkened.

She looked at those people indifferently.

She pursed her lips and sneered.

Outside, most of the bloodthirsty executioners come from these families, those Death Eaters—who may not have killed many people with their own ruthless brethren.

But they had all eaten human flesh.

They might have even dipped potatoes in blood and licked them.

And among that group, the most prominent family was the Lestrange.

Miss Granger was deeply impressed.

His eyes were blazing with anger.

"As for Lestrange, I just thought of him as the Riddle family's dog. The master raises his hand and the dog barks."

"But now that I see it's not like that at all—" Owen's voice sounded like a ghost behind her.

He and Granger looked up at the tall viewing platform together.

The newcomers were naturally not qualified to sit alongside the principals and ministers of magic from the major magic schools.

They were all kind, sitting in the back row, dressed in human skin.

Smiling broadly—like an iron curtain falling.

Each time a pure-blood family member sits down, the iron curtain rises one step higher.

Once all the pure-blood families were seated, the Iron Curtain was already taller and larger than the stadium that could hold 100,000 people.

It was built with the blood and skulls of mortals.

A terrifying atmosphere permeated the air. The oppressive atmosphere made it hard to breathe.

"I can't tell if the Del family's dogs suddenly turned into people, or if they've always been people who just like keeping dogs."

Can you tell the difference?

"Irving said jokingly."

His voice was louder than the shouts of 100,000 spectators.

It reached Miss Granger's ears clearly.

She understood another meaning in Owen's words.

She couldn't tell whether power protected them or they had benevolently bestowed power upon them.

Silence—after a long while, she finally couldn't help but ask the question in a murmur, unable to understand it.

"Why?" Her face was heavy, and a storm seemed to be raging in her heart. "Why can they act as if none of this ever happened?"

"So many people have died—"

"The answer is simple," Owen said, looking at her. "Just flip through your textbook and read 'The History of Magic.'"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, frowning at him.

"Have you heard of Genesis?" He changed the subject, diverting Miss Granger's thoughts elsewhere.

"This magnificent and awe-inspiring masterpiece covers the upper part of the Sistine Chapel, depicting scenes such as 'God Separating Light from Darkness,' 'The Creation of the Sun, Moon, and Plants,' 'Noah's Sacrifice,' and 'The Great Flood.'"

The Sistine Chapel has always had a fence. During worship or festivals, one side was where clergy and nobles proclaimed divine revelations, while the other side was where commoners listened, prayed, and received free indulgences from God.

The former looked up at the Sistine Chapel, his view filled with the miracles of God's creation; standing on the other side of the fence, he gazed up at the dome—

Everywhere I looked, there was human suffering.

"Just like—Bashida Bagshot's History of Magic."

Standing on the fence, looking up at the dome.

—Everywhere you look, you see the suffering of wizards!

"Huff—" A heavy panting sound came from Blake's private room.

Miss Granger looked somewhat pale.

She felt suffocated.

Looking up and around at the luxurious decorations all around, I saw...

She couldn't help but close her eyes.

He then got up, walked to the stands, gripped the railing with both hands, and looked up.

The summer evening breeze was not cold at all.

She even felt warm.

Looking up at the dome.

Unseen—"The Divide of God into Light and Darkness"

Unseen – The Creation of Sun, Moon, Grass, and Trees

Unseen—Noah's Sacrifice

Unseen – The Flood

All you can see is a cloudless summer day, with the eternally shining stars in the black sky!

For an instant.

A seed has fallen into her heart.

Then, the seeds began to grow wildly at an astonishing speed. In an instant, those jokes that had been made in passing became history!

"What's wrong with her?" Ron muttered to Harry as he turned to him.

"I don't know—" Harry said silently. He felt as if something was blocking his heart, which made him feel uncomfortable, but he didn't know what it was.

"Shh! Don't speak!" Owen said kindly, "The great Minister Granger is contemplating the future of the magical world!"

"Tonight is a night of destiny."

"Only she will directly confront the Lord!"

"What?" Ron scratched his head, still looking puzzled.

"I said," Irving smiled slightly, "the game is about to begin!"

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.

He had barely finished speaking.

A voice, like thunder, resounded throughout the packed stadium.

His voice echoed above them, resounding loudly to every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen... welcome! Welcome to the 422nd Quidditch World Cup!"

The audience erupted in cheers and applause.

Perhaps it was just an illusion, but the stadium seemed to tremble.

Looking out from the stands, thousands upon thousands of flags were waving simultaneously, accompanied by a filthy and nonsensical rendition of the national anthem. (Again, why does the wizard know how to sing the national anthem?)

The scene was truly lively and extraordinary.

On the blackboard opposite them, the last line GG (Bibdominis Beans—every bite is an adventure!) has been erased, and it now shows: Bulgaria: 0, Ireland: 0.

"Alright, enough chit-chat, please allow me to introduce... the mascot of the Bulgarian national team!"

On the right side of the stadium stands, a neat, bright red square formation erupted in loud cheers.

Inside the box, Mr. Weasley looked at Owen with a somber expression, then turned his gaze to Hermione.

The other two children might not understand, but he—though some of the profound words were not even clear to him, after all, he didn't know much about Muggle history, and he had no idea what the Sistine Chapel was.

But he sensed something dangerous in those words.

"Phew—" Mr. Weasley exhaled; these children were still young.

You might have a thousand or ten thousand thoughts, but you'll forget them all when you wake up tomorrow.

Tomorrow morning, maybe—maybe they'll go back to their old ways of playing around.

"I wonder what they brought." Mr. Weasley's mood shifted as he leaned forward from his seat.

"Huh? It's a Veela!"

"Veera?"

At this moment, one hundred Veelas had already slid onto the arena.

Why did their skin glow with a soft, moon-like light? Why did their hair flutter behind them even without wind? Just then, music started playing.

In an instant, the wizards' minds went blank, and they were left with only one feeling: joy.

Nothing else in the world matters, as long as they can keep watching the Veela, because if they stop dancing, something terrible will happen...

As the Veela's dance moves became faster and faster, some crazy, unformed ideas began to swirl in the dizzying minds of the audience.

"They're so beautiful!" Harry exclaimed.

Of course he knew what Veela were.

Hermione told them about it.

Fleur of Beauxbatons has Veela blood.

It must be said that the Veela are indeed quite beautiful, with their dreamy green eyes filled with a wildness from nature.

Their soft, full red lips seemed to be inviting them to open and close, and their exquisite features were like a masterpiece sculpted by God, adorning their beautiful, fair, and delicate faces, which were full of exotic charm.

Their faces are neither as angular as Westerners nor as soft and dignified as Easterners. The Veela's beauty lies somewhere in between, making them a sight to behold for anyone, regardless of location or race, who would marvel at their beauty.

Moreover, they have figures that are comparable to those of a devil.

With her shapely, long, jade-like legs, slender and smooth calves, and soft, jade-like arms, coupled with her delicate, smooth, tender, and jade-like skin and bones, this level of beauty is something that even men would find hard to resist.

Women like it too!

"It's quite pretty." Owen sat lazily in his chair, and a small table had appeared in front of him at some point.

Sunflower seeds, peanuts, and bottled water have already been placed on the table.

Even the stingiest person would take out a Galleon and hire more than one night.

Tell him to go to London now and buy some snacks.

With a loud bang, Dobby's distorted space left the private room.

Although he was free, Dobby loved his job, so Irving could rehire him anytime, anywhere.

"But what I'm curious about, Harry, is why you're so calm?" He looked up at Harry and asked after dealing with Dobby.

"Calm down?" Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Look at Ron!" Owen lazily held up one finger.

Harry turned to look at his good brother.

At this moment, Ron was shamelessly leaning against the fence, his head burning as he looked down at the Veela dancing below, his body poised as if he were about to dive from the diving board.

If Hermione hadn't raised her hand and slapped him on the back of the head, then kicked him in the shin...

The pain briefly brought him back to his senses, and Harry was absolutely certain that Ron would jump off the stands.

Harry then shifted his gaze elsewhere.

The Weasley twins looked a little better than their brother; although they were also dazed, they didn't leave their seats.

Harry noticed that the two of them were wearing pink sunglasses with lenses that looked like they were made of iridescent gemstones.

It's very strange.

It doesn't look like anything belonging to either of them.

That's somewhat like—

"Luna's idea," Owen explained. "Velves' charm is a type of mental magic. They can cast spells on wizards through their eyes, and it's a talent they can't control."

"Mr. Xenophilius (Luna's father) seems to have extensive experience in preventing Veela from invading minds; he invented a pair of glasses that can effectively block their magic."

Irving looked at the twins: "Unfortunately, their mass-produced version doesn't seem to be performing well!"

"As for you?" He turned to look at Harry again.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

It seems that the soul belonging to Voldemort within Harry's body has undergone some kind of change.

Perhaps Tom has accumulated some strange power again.

It enhanced Harry's mental strength in some ways.

But the other side bound him even more tightly to Harry's own soul.

This can be guessed from Harry's strong reaction when he destroyed Salazar's locket at Black's ancestral home.

Whether this is a good thing or a bad thing is hard to say, but in any case, Harry has no choice; he can only take it one step at a time.

"I didn't sense any mental magic." Harry scratched his head, not understanding why Ron and the twins reacted so strongly.

Although those Veela were indeed very beautiful.

But beauty can't put food on the table, so he'd rather learn another spell.

"And you, you look pretty normal too."

Suddenly, Hermione grabbed one of her sons from the fence, turned around and smacked her lips loudly. Then she leaned against the fence, crossed her arms, and looked at Owen with a half-smile.

"Brain Occupation, darling, brain occupation!" Owen grabbed a handful of peanuts and stuffed them into his mouth, mumbling, "In our line of work, the secrets in your head are the most valuable thing. Everything else can be seen through, but the little bit of stuff stored in your head is not."

Several tens of gigabytes of torrents. *cough cough*—I mean, knowing too much isn't good.

"Occlumency?" Hermione asked suspiciously; she had heard of that magic.

It is quite difficult to learn.

"Of course, it's mainly because of those succubi—uh—no—Vevas, yes—Vevas, their dances are too conservative, and their clothes are—tsk tsk—although the sheer fabric is very alluring and beautiful—but believe me, it's not suitable here."

The hazy atmosphere prevented them from revealing anything.

At the very least, there should be some nudity in this kind of scene!

Legs? Arms? Back or something!

Furthermore, the clothing should be—cough cough—black stockings—you know what I mean, sorry—I forgot, you probably really don't understand, what a waste of this figure.

Blue people like black.

Or a white stockings slip dress or something.

Moreover, the dance was problematic. In a stadium with 100,000 people, you shouldn't be performing such a delicate dance; you should be performing a more energetic dance!

Hmm—that kind of energetic dance is more suitable for this kind of occasion!

"At that time—I figured I should practice my Occlumency technique again," he said earnestly.

His eyes were filled with sincerity.

He pointed out product shortcomings and demanded updates and iterations. Newbies would give him a thumbs up for this kind of focus on market pain points and expansion of the company's market, while seasoned veterans would have already pulled out their panoramic binoculars and spotted the product's selling points.

"Hehe—" Hermione said with a smile, "What a wonderful wish."

"Sometimes I really wonder if you have schizophrenia, or a dual or triple personality."

She looked at Owen indifferently.

Sometimes this guy is so cruel and terrifying, it's like he's choking you and making it impossible to breathe.

Sometimes, he is like a wise man, able to casually utter many profound words, his words always showing his protection for the weak.

Sometimes, he's glib and talkative, spouting nonsense without a single truth or lie. He deliberately teases you, making you furious.

She had never seen such a complex wizard.

That guy was unique; there was no one like him in the past, present, and possibly future.

Unique charm.

Therefore, she...

Miss Granger blushed as she thought about it.

She immediately turned around, leaving everyone with only her back view.

"?"

You're not angry?

Irving looked puzzled, then shoved the beef patty next to him into his mouth and chewed it with a 'smack smack' sound.

strange!

The background music slowly ended.

The stadium was filled with angry roars; people didn't want the Veela to leave.

Many people have had their souls stolen.

Generally speaking, this magical animal, originating from countries near Bulgaria, is believed to be able to be paired with a shaman.

This is also one of the important supporting pieces of evidence for the theory of human-magical hybrids and the origin of wizards.

Wizards believed they lived in forests, lakes, mountains, and clouds.

As an elf, Veela possesses a powerful ability to shapeshift.

They can transform into swans, horses, eagles, snakes, or wolves, but their human forms are still the most alluring.

Some of them had long hair, some had curly hair, some had blonde hair, and some had platinum blonde silver hair.

When they transformed into humans, they were beautiful young women, dancing under the midsummer moon in veils.

Men and women who become infatuated with them will forget everything in the world, and stop eating, drinking, and sleeping.

Although women are not affected by Veela's magic—but—sisters—this damned little sprite looks like this, what's the point of distinguishing genders!

Lead the charge!

They are generally very friendly to humans, and they treat illnesses and make predictions for them.

If you find a satisfactory human male, you can marry him and live happily ever after.

However, the Veela have a bad temper; they cannot tolerate being deceived.

They will severely punish those who break their promises.

Despite this, many wizards and sorcerers still hope to marry a Veela or have one.

"Now," Ludo Bagman's voice boomed, "raise your wands in the air... welcome the Irish national team's mascot!"

Then—a sound was heard.

A huge green and gold object flew into the stadium, like a giant comet.

It flew around the building once, then split into two smaller comets, each heading towards a set of goalposts.

Suddenly, an arched rainbow appeared across the entire arena, connecting the two gleaming spheres.

Exclamations of "Wow!" erupted from the crowd, as if they were watching a fireworks display.

(End of this chapter)