I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 240 Irving Sanchez

Breakfast was very plentiful, and everyone enjoyed it.

As they ate, several owls flew in from afar.

It's Ron's Juliet and Harry's Hedwig.

Irving didn't have an owl—because nobody would send him letters (before he started school), and he wouldn't send letters to anyone else (before he started school).

At school, his letters were usually delivered by the communal owls of the Owl Shack.

There is also an owl post office outside the school.

After the second grade, Dobby took over delivering the letters for him.

Hmm—maybe he could get Bakal to send the letter?

Miss Granger doesn't have an owl either, and still doesn't. Last semester she had the idea of ​​getting a magical creature, but after the Battle of Hogsmeade broke out at Christmas and the school started a crazy competition, she had no time for it at all.

The breeding plan could only be postponed repeatedly.

By the way, Miss Granger also came to the Burrow.

But they had already agreed on this with Ginny.

Kyrie Irving himself was the one who got involved halfway through.

"Wow! Miss Granger is all the rage on the front page for a whole week!"

Irving opened the Daily Prophet that Hedwig had sent him.

The front page was eye-catching.

One photo shows Hermione supporting a giant lava beast on one side, and a statue of Godric Gryffindor on the other.

The two different images are combined to form a single photograph, with a clear meaning.

Furthermore, the page title was quite audacious—"The Greatest Witch? Dumbledore's Successor, the Heir to Gryffindor, Has Arrived!!!"

As for its content, it has a very Rita Skeeter-esque style.

Checking the author list, it indeed listed Rita Skeeter's name.

The whole thing is fiction and nonsense.

She created a story that Hermione's Muggle parents were not her biological parents, and that she was a descendant of a lost pure-blood family related to Gryffindor.

It was only because of the dark and turbulent times, during the First Wizarding War, that her family was thrown into disarray and she was found and raised by two foolish Muggles.

Regardless of how much exaggeration is in this fabricated story, the fact remains that European wizards, as well as wizards in Africa and the Americas, all firmly believe it, and the Daily Prophet has been selling like hotcakes lately!

It is sold all over the world.

Examples include the American newspaper "The New York Ghost" and the French newspaper "Gargoyle Roar".

Both The Voice of Wizards and Transfiguration Today reprinted the Daily Prophet's report.

On the one hand, this stems from Rita Skeeter's truly impressive ability to boast, but on the other hand, it is also due to the influence of bloodline concepts.

They simply couldn't believe that a Muggle-born wizard could do these things!

"I have a feeling that if these rumors keep circulating for a while longer, your parents will be called in for questioning by the Ministry of Magic," Owen said, turning his head slightly. "They might actually believe you were adopted. They might even suspect your parents stole a wizard's child!"

"Heh—" Hermione sneered, then snatched the newspaper from his hand and burned it to ashes.

"Don't pay attention to those false reports in the newspapers," Mrs. Weasley said gracefully as she approached with her honey pumpkin juice. "They just don't believe that Hermione can do these things."

She patted Hermione on the shoulder.

Leave her with your kindest smile.

In fact, Hermione was no longer angry.

Indeed—she waved her hand, casting a spell without a staff, causing the newspaper fragments to vanish in a gust of wind.

She had seen many slanders against her from the magical world these past few days.

Various short essays, as if knowing a few ABCDs is enough to participate in this grand event.

It has a vibrant and thriving atmosphere, with everything competing for life.

"Don't be angry, this Rita Skeeter is a complete liar." Ron put down his spoon. "She's published all sorts of articles slandering the Ministry of Magic, as well as dirt on some famous wizards. She's good at writing these things, and I don't even know where she gets her information from."

Beside him, Owen held up his teacup, swirling the honey bee water inside as if savoring red wine. "But if you ask me, since the rumors can't be stopped, you might as well just admit it."

"This will be very useful to you in the future."

"So I'm going to send my parents to the Ministry of Magic?" Hermione looked at him unhappily.

Her soft hair clung to her cheeks, and her eyes, subtly shadowed in the painting, held a hint of confusion.

"So it's silence rather than admission," Owen said with a faint smile. "As we all know, our dear senior Tom has gathered a large following under the banner of Salazar Slytherin."

Now that you have this opportunity, why not seize it?

"And besides, is it really impossible for you to be a descendant of Gryffindor?" Owen looked directly into her eyes. "Like I said before, even pure-blood wizards can produce Squibs. And what about the descendants of Squibs? They've become so far removed from the magical world that they're practically indistinguishable from Muggles. And what about their descendants?"

Ultimately, it's possible that all five million Muggles in London have some form of wizarding blood, and maybe you are one of them—who knows?

"What if you're a descendant of King Arthur?" Owen glanced at Hermione's still-standing tuft of hair on her head. "At least that's a very obvious feature!"

He felt Irving's gaze fixed on the top of his head.

Hermione was a little embarrassed and quickly reached out to cover the ahoge (cowlick) on her head.

I hate that strand of hair.

No matter what she did, she couldn't smooth her hair.

"Alright, children, let's not discuss such profound matters at the dinner table," Mrs. Weasley interjected.

She glared at Owen because he had just mentioned the Mystic.

"Oh! This year's reading list and class schedule have arrived!" Harry changed the subject.

He took a letter from the piglet (Ron's owl), and upon opening it, the Hogwarts crest clearly visible on the tinderbox proved that it had been sent from the school, or more likely from Professor McGonagall's office.

"Professor McGonagall knows we're together."

Harry opened the letter, and on the first page were clearly written the words "To Mr. Sanchez, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger".

"The new school term begins on August 25th. Fourth-grade students must prepare the following textbooks: *Standard Spells Level 4*, *Black Magic: A Self-Defense Guide*, *Potions and Elixirs*, *A Thousand Magical Herbs and Mushrooms*, *A History of Magic*, *Intermediate Transfiguration*, *Seeing the Future Through the Fog*, and *A Runic Dictionary*."

Note: George and Fred need to prepare two alchemy textbooks: *Ancient Alchemy Revealed* and *Ancient Alchemy Revealed—Principles of Alchemy* (hereinafter referred to as *Principles of Alchemy*).

"Wow! George, you and Fred applied for alchemy courses?" Harry looked at the twins in surprise. As everyone knows, these two were never academically inclined.

Their results were even worse than Ron's.

Why is he suddenly thinking of taking another course? He knows that alchemy is very difficult; even Owen and Hermione have headaches and rely on energy drinks every day.

Can they do it?

"George and I think this course will be very helpful for our invention!" George took the notice from Harry's hand.

"That's right, prank props ultimately limited our brilliant ideas!"

"You're right, George."

"We're going to study this course in depth!" Fred said, beaming.

Looking at the two brothers' clueless expressions, Irving cast a sympathetic glance his way. These two silly boys had no idea that they had stepped into an abyss of no return.

"We should head to Diagon Alley," the two said hastily as they stood up.

He seems very enthusiastic about this new course.

"I've never heard of these two alchemy textbooks before. They're probably very rare magic books."

"I estimate it to be quite valuable."

"Tsk!" Irving let out a teasing sneer, tilting his head with a smile and offering a friendly reminder, "Why don't you take a closer look?"

"?"

Upon hearing this, the twins looked down at the book list in their hands again.

Generally, the books provided by schools will include the author's name.

To prevent young wizards from buying other books with the same title—although you can't go wrong as long as you buy from Flourish and Blotts, the book list will still indicate the author.

As George and Fred's eyes widened, they stared incredulously at Owen and Hermione, who silently tossed her hair to reveal her profile.

All that remained in his mouth was a series of meaningless shouts.

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Weasley walked over angrily.

These two children have absolutely no manners; it's truly shameful.

Are textbooks too expensive?

Thinking of this, her heart tightened slightly. Alchemy—it sounded like an expensive course. If it was too pricey…

However, it's rare that these two mischievous kids are interested in learning.

Mrs. Weasley, after a moment of deep thought, took the book list from the twins.

No matter the price, she needs to know it first.

She will find a way to raise enough Galleons.

Then she saw a shocking line.

Deciphering Ancient Alchemy – by Nicolas Flamel, translated by Irving Sanchez.

The Principles of Alchemy – by Irving Sanchez, edited by Hermione Granger.

"."

------------

Written by Irving Sanchez.

For the first time, whether it was George, Harry, Ron, or Mrs. Weasley, they suddenly realized that the power of a book surpassed that of all magic.

The group felt as if they had been dealt a heavy blow.

He opened his mouth and mumbled incomprehensible words.

After breakfast.

Nothing else really happened, but Mrs. Weasley's enthusiasm for Owen and Hermione skyrocketed.

Even surpassing Harry.

In the following days, Owen only discovered this when he discussed it with Hermione while looking at the patched-up book, "Ancient Alchemy Revealed."

Her book, "Principles of Alchemy," was simply a compilation and refinement of several of his papers from the previous semester. The entire book was less than a few dozen pages long. Anyone unfamiliar with the subject might mistake it for an advanced textbook on magic.

After flipping through a few pages, Owen realized that the book was actually an alchemy dictionary!

The book is filled with explanations of terms and instructions on how wizards conduct experiments and write experimental reports.

It contains almost no practical information; it's purely a beginner's reference book.

That's it—Hermione is still a fanfic character.

Neither his "Ancient Alchemy Revealed" nor Nick's original manuscript paid detailed attention to the explanation of terms. They both assumed that wizards who read these things at least had some basic alchemical knowledge.

Only in the assignment Irving gave to Dumbledore last year, his paper was a lazy one—mainly to reach the word count, so he wrote a lot of definitions.

"Damn Granger! He's doing fanfiction on me!"

Stop talking!

This year, all the expenses at Diagon Alley are on Miss Granger's plate!

Let's fleece her!

The days that followed were a rare period of leisure, during which Irving continued to write textbooks for George and Fred every day.

"Deciphering Ancient Alchemy" is only a part of Nick's work. Just like "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," these kinds of books need to be supplemented every now and then!

He spent the rest of his time asking Hermione for money.

Miss Granger agreed to give him a share of her royalties.

However, the two did not reach an agreement on the specific amount.

Miss Granger wanted the split to be 60/40 or 70/30.

Irving, on the other hand, wanted to split the money! Damn it! I'm already being kind by not charging you interest; you're just trying to take my money? Dream on!

And then—they broke up.

As for the others—except for Harry, who is relatively free.

All the other Weasley children obediently became studious children under Mrs. Weasley's inexplicable gaze.

Studying for more than ten hours a day

I guess she was provoked by Owen and Hermione.

In any case, in Mrs. Weasley's eyes, the two of them were already the epitome of other people's children.

And so, the "happy" time always passes quickly, and before we knew it, it was the last day before school started.

That night, after dinner, the young wizard began packing his things.

Ron moved a huge pile of packages onto Harry's cot, and then threw his money bag and a large bag of socks next to the packages.

Harry began to unpack the things Mrs. Weasley had bought for him.

Besides Miranda Goshak's "Standard Spells, Level Four," he had a new quill, twelve rolls of parchment, and supplies to replenish his potion-making kit—his lionfish spine powder and belladonna extract were almost gone.

It's too late to go to Diagon Alley to buy it.

I can only buy it through Owl Post after school starts.

However, he guessed that Hagrid might have these things, or perhaps—Snape?

Should Hermione steal it again?

"What is this thing?"

Harry was about to put the socks into his cauldron—yes, a cauldron and socks are a perfect match! Hmph!

Then he heard Ron yelling angrily from behind.

Turning his head, he noticed that Ron was holding something that, in Harry's eyes, looked like a dark purple velvet dress with a collar trimmed with what appeared to be moldy ruffles and matching lace trim on the cuffs.

"A formal gown." Sitting on the bed watching the two of them pack, Owen held a cup of rich honey grapefruit milk tea and said, "You'll need it this semester."

Although he didn't understand why the two of them weren't using magic to tidy up.

I've heard Harry is also researching wandless spellcasting, but I wonder how it's going!

As for his own—a Galleon—Dobby had already taken care of everything for him.

Even now, his things were already placed by his window in the Hufflepuff common room at Hogwarts.

Even the beds were made.

"Why would we need this stuff?" Ron frowned, bringing his nose close to the container. "Ugh—it tastes like my grandma's foot bindings."

"You've even smelled your grandmother's foot binding cloth?"

"Pervert!" Owen said with a look of disgust.

Ron blushed. "That was a metaphor, a embellishment!"

"Come on, you don't even know who Shakespeare is, so don't insult the words 'metaphor' and 'modification,' you fake Englishman!"

"I—" Ron stammered, as if he had choked on his words.

Harry, on the other hand, was lucid; thankfully, he knew who Shakespeare was.

"Hey! Wait a minute—" Suddenly Ron's eyes lit up. "I remember you gave Harry and me a matching outfit as a Christmas present last year, didn't you?"

"Hehe—finally you have some conscience, my son—your old father's love for you is like a gentle rain, nourishing you silently. You'll know to thank me when you need it."

"Go to hell!" Ron yelled, but he quickly realized what was happening.

Everyone needs to bring a dress on their list.

That means there will definitely be an event where students need to wear formal attire.

It's obvious that something big is going to happen in the new semester. Everyone knows it, including Irving, but he just won't tell them.

I glanced at the smelly old lady's dress next to me.

The shirt Irving gave him was a lifesaver; he didn't want to embarrass himself at school.

Pack your things.

The group drifted off to sleep, dreaming about the new semester.

The next morning.

A somber atmosphere, reminiscent of the end of a holiday, permeated the humble dwelling.

They woke up in the heavy rain.

Get dressed.

After breakfast, Mr. Arthur originally planned to take them there.

Unfortunately, an urgent message from the Ministry of Magic summoned him away.

However, Sirius arrived at the Burrow early in the morning.

He gave Harry a warm hug in the heavy rain.

"It took some time," he said.

Sirius seemed very busy during the summer vacation. He only visited the Burrow two or three times, and each time he was in a hurry, eating with them and then leaving in a rush.

Furthermore, Harry and his friends discovered that this year's list of professors included...

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's name has changed.

Instead, it was replaced by the famous dark wizard hunter, Mad-Eye Moody.

"Let's go, kids! It's getting late."

Sirius led them through the Floo Network to Diagon Alley, and then through Diagon Alley to London.

On the way, he finally explained what he had been doing all this time.

"Ancient ruins?" Owen looked at him upon hearing the voice. "How can you find ancient ruins if you can't detect ancient magic?"

"There will always be some clues, like that cave, which was obviously modified with magic. And that noseless one must have discovered the mystery of that place and used it to hide his Horcrux."

"I can always find something if I look for ancient ruins that contain strange magic. And—" Sirius's expression suddenly froze, and the smile on his face faded a bit, "I carry Regulus's necklace with me. That magical item can sense ancient magic."

"Hmm—that is indeed a solution." Owen nodded. Although he didn't understand how the thing worked, it was clear that it did have the ability to open the ruins.

(End of this chapter)