I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 243 Owen: I kicked Dumbledore out of the headmaster's seat with one kick.

"I am very pleased to announce that this year at Hogwarts..."

Just then, a deafening clap of thunder rang out, and the auditorium door was kicked open with a bang.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning on a long cane, and wearing a black travel cloak.

All the young wizards in the hall instinctively turned to look at the stranger. A forked bolt of lightning flashed across the ceiling, and everyone gasped.

The lightning illuminated the man's face in stark contrast, revealing a truly terrifying face.

Beneath the gray hair, the face looked as if it had been carved from a piece of rotten wood, and the sculptor only had a vague concept of what a human face should look like, and was not very skilled at using the carving knife.

Every inch of his face seemed to be covered in scars, his mouth looked like a crooked gaping mouth, his nose was missing where it should have been, and conspicuously, he was missing half a leg.

My left hand is gone too.

What's most terrifying about this man is his eyes.

One of his eyes was small, black, and sparkling, while the other eye was large, round like a coin, and a bright, vivid blue.

The blue eye kept moving without blinking, turning up, down, left, and right, completely unrelated to the normal eye.

Later, the blue eyeball rolled back and went inside the man's head, leaving everyone with only a large white eyeball.

"Mad-Eye Moody!" Hannah exclaimed.

"What happened to him? Last year—"

Hannah then stopped speaking.

She suddenly remembered a piece of information published in the Daily Prophet at the end of last semester.

The Ministry of Magic has achieved a great victory in its battle against the Death Eaters.

They successfully drove all the dark wizards out of Britain or captured them outright.

She had never imagined what a bloody battle it would be, but now, through Moody's missing hand, she had glimpsed a corner of it.

The little witch trembled slightly involuntarily.

She glanced at Owen unconsciously, her eyes somewhat unfocused.

Moody walked up to Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand, a hand as scarred as his face.

Dumbledore shook hands with him and whispered a few words to him.

It seems like they're asking Moody something.

Moody shook his head without a smile and answered in a low voice.

Dumbledore nodded in response, gesturing for him to sit in an empty seat to his right.

He turned around, sat down, shook his head to brush his long, gray hair from his face, then pulled over a plate of sausages, held it to his mutilated nose, and smelled it. He took a small knife from his pocket, poked one end of a sausage, and began to eat.

His normal eye was fixed on the sausage, but his blue eye kept darting around in its socket, taking in the auditorium and his classmates.

"Please allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore said cheerfully, breaking the silence, "Professor Moody."

This time, it's different from the original.

The young wizards burst into enthusiastic applause.

Undeniably, Moody is indeed somewhat eccentric, both in his cautious nature and in his physical disability.

But after the Battle of Hogsmeade, the young wizard personally witnessed the injured Moody being carried into the school infirmary.

For whom was he injured?

This goes without saying.

The young children still have a sincere heart.

The applause was thunderous, which caused a slight change in Moody's expression. Only his eyes remained calm, and his Demon Eyes stopped wandering around.

"Dumbledore invited him personally," Owen explained to the two men beside him. "He's a very strong-willed man."

"But he's no longer suited for the Auror role; if he continues, he'll lose his life sooner or later."

“No one can persuade him, not even Barty Crouch.” He looked at Moody sitting on the faculty seat. “Dumbledore used the excuse that young wizards needed some Auror training during dangerous times to remove him from the Ministry of Magic.”

"Actually, this is also a way of protecting him."

"Protect him?" Justin asked, puzzled.

Owen rolled his eyes at him. This guy really doesn't read books or newspapers, eats more snacks than sleep, and the only magic he's learned was because Hannah dragged him along; otherwise, he wouldn't have taken the initiative to learn spells from him.

"He sent half of the dark wizards to Azkaban. Do you think those Death Eaters still out there won't cause him trouble?"

Justin fell silent.

Irving, on the other hand, turned his attention back to Moody.

He looked at it carefully.

Hopefully, we can see something different from Moody's.

Yes—the wheels of history have turned elsewhere, and Irving can no longer determine whether the person in front of him is the real Moody or someone else in disguise.

From his brief encounter, the Moody before him seemed almost identical to the one he knew, but—

After all, Barty Crouch Jr.'s acting skills were enough to fool Dumbledore.

He may not have fooled anyone—but he fooled most people, so Irving couldn't be sure who was actually sitting on the podium.

He may or may not be, or he may be in a state of flux, as long as I don't expose him.

"Alright, let's get back to our previous topic!"

While Irving was pondering.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, smiling as he looked at the large group of students before him, though most of the young wizards' attention remained focused on Mad-Eye Moody. "In the coming months of this year, we will have the great honor of hosting a truly spectacular event, one that hasn't been held for centuries. I am delighted to announce that the Triwizard Tournament will take place at Hogwarts this year."

"Oh my god, did I hear that right?!"

"You're kidding!" The young wizards instantly erupted in excitement.

Fred and George stood up abruptly and loudly questioned Dumbledore.

Harry might not know what the Triwizard Tournament was, but the young wizards who grew up in the magical world had all heard of it.

In the past, when the three major European academies maintained regular contact, the Triwizard Tournament would be held in rotation among the three academies every four years.

It is said to be the highest achievement a minor wizard can attain.

“I’m not joking, Mr. Weasley!” Dumbledore looked at the twins. “But since you mentioned joking, I did hear a very funny joke about a troll, a she-devil, and a goblin who all went into the same tavern.”

"Ahem!" Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Oh—it's probably not appropriate to talk about this now. Not appropriate," Dumbledore said. "Where was I?"

"Oh, right, the Three Kingdoms Tournament. Yes, some of you don't know what this tournament is all about, so I hope those who do can forgive me for explaining it briefly. I'll allow your minds to wander for a bit."

He then slowly explained, "As we all know, the Triwizard Tournament is a friendly competition between the three largest magic schools in Europe: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. It is an excellent platform for showcasing talents and helping young wizards from different countries build friendships. It was once a tradition, but later, due to the excessive number of deaths, the Triwizard Tournament was discontinued."

"The death toll?" Hannah's eyelids twitched slightly, and her brows furrowed a little.

She had heard of the competition.

It is indeed fraught with danger.

There have even been cases where all the warriors died.

This is why the competition is no longer held.

Death is now a very sensitive topic for her.

However, most of the young wizards didn't show any signs of concern. Many of them whispered excitedly to each other.

Everyone was eager to hear the specific details of the three-way battle for supremacy, seemingly uninterested in those who had died hundreds of years ago.

"For centuries, there have been several attempts to revive the Winged Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "but none have been successful. However, our Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Department of Magical Sports at the Ministry of Magic believe that the time is ripe. We have done much work this summer to ensure that no champion is in mortal danger."

Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout the Great Hall.

The young wizards all wore expressions of longing and anticipation.

But if we're talking about someone who's different—besides Owen, it's Hermione.

Miss Granger frowned, looking puzzled.

She looked at the principal on the podium with a completely blank expression.

The reason she made that expression was quite simple.

That is to say, at this time, this so-called "opportunity" is definitely not "ripe".

Everyone knows that Voldemort has returned.

Just a few months ago, British wizards were living in fear!

What if the Death Eaters take the opportunity to attack the castle while a competition between the three major European wizarding schools is being held at this time?

What if Voldemort has some kind of conspiracy?

If a wizard from another school were to get into trouble at Hogwarts, it would be a huge blow to the reputation of both Hogwarts and Britain!

The once-famous Hogwarts may never recover.

She simply couldn't understand why Headmaster Dumbledore would hold such a grand competition at such a dangerous time.

As she pondered, she unconsciously turned her head away, her eyes seemingly drawn by some kind of gravity to the boy leaning against the table, his left hand supporting his cheek, one foot inside the chair and the other outside, his whole body staring directly at the boy on the platform.

The candlelight on the ceiling illuminated the boy's profile.

It added a healthy tan to his fair cheeks.

Irving seemed to have noticed that unusual gaze.

Turning my head, I met Miss Granger's gaze.

Just one second.

The other person immediately turned their head away and looked elsewhere with an unnatural expression.

Then—Dumbledore's voice rang out.

"In October, Beauxbatons School of Magic, Durmstrang School of Magic, and Ilvermorny School of Magic—yes, that's right, this tournament will have four magic schools participating. This is a first—and it may become a new tradition in the future. So—the name of the Triwizard Tournament might have to be changed, um—the Quadruple Tournament?"

Perhaps in the near future, more and more magic schools will participate. Hmm—maybe I should go to South America, Africa, or Asia and invite their magic academies to participate as well. Oh—what will it be called then? The Top Five Championship? The Top Six? The Top Seven? The Top Eleven?

Hmm—how about calling it the World Magic School Championship? That sounds really exciting!

"Cough cough!" Professor McGonagall's heavy cough once again interrupted Dumbledore's reverie.

"Alright, alright." Dumbledore gave Professor McGonagall a reproachful look, then brought the topic back and continued, "The ceremony for choosing the champion will be held on Halloween."

An impartial referee will determine which students are most qualified to compete for the third- or fourth-place cup, bringing honor to their school and earning an individual prize of three thousand Galleons.

This will be an extremely high honor for individuals, colleges, and the university alike, and I hope you understand that.

"I want to participate!" As soon as Dumbledore finished speaking, Owen immediately stood up.

"For three thousand Galleons—ah—bah—for the honor of Hogwarts, I will represent the school and forge ahead without hesitation. Believe me, winning the championship will be a piece of cake!"

After Dumbledore finished introducing the tournament, the whispers among the young wizards in the Great Hall never stopped. Everyone was excitedly talking to the people around them, wondering if they could also become warriors representing Hogwarts.

But after Owen got up, most of the young wizards stopped making noise.

Everyone looked up at Irving.

Indeed—although that fake Hufflepuff was ruthless, treacherous, petty, vindictive, eccentric, mischievous, greedy, and talkative.

But in terms of dueling skills, he was unparalleled in the entire Hogwarts.

After all, this guy was able to become Professor Flitwick's dueling practice partner in his second year.

A year later, no one knew what the limits of his strength had become.

Anyway—there are Hufflepuff wizards bragging that Owen is already the strongest wizard at Hogwarts besides Dumbledore.

Now we see Irving stepping up.

Although the other houses besides Hufflepuff were slightly unhappy, since Hogwarts champions didn't come from their own houses, they didn't object—perhaps because they didn't dare.

"I know you—you all yearn to win the Triwizard Tournament trophy for Hogwarts," Dumbledore said calmly. "However, the participating schools and the Ministry of Magic have agreed to set an age limit for this year's competitors."

Only students who are seventeen years of age or older are allowed to apply, and their applications will be considered. We believe…

He raised his voice, "I want you to understand that this measure is necessary because the competition is still very challenging and dangerous. No matter how many precautions we take, students in grades six and seven and below simply cannot handle it."

I personally guarantee that not a single student under the age of majority will deceive our impartial judges and become a Hogwarts hero.

"And—" As he spoke, his gaze fell from the Gryffindor table to Owen.

His previous remarks were directed at ordinary junior wizards.

He was confident that no young wizard could break the age-detection spell he had set. But Owen was different; he might actually have a way to break the spell.

"I hereby announce that Mr. Owen Sanchez, President of the Hogwarts Student Council of Hufflepuff, will be excluded from this selection process, so—" his blue eyes flashed meaningfully, "you should not even try to apply."

Yes, that's the solution Dumbledore came up with.

As is well known, the champions of the tournament are selected through the Goblet of Fire.

The old headmaster's solution was simply to remove Irving's name from the Goblet of Fire—you're expelled (humorous).

Therefore, no matter what method Irving comes up with to put his name into the Goblet of Fire, it will not choose Irving.

From the Goblet of Fire's perspective, this person doesn't even exist at Hogwarts!

"I protest!!!"

Over at Hufflepuff, Owen slammed his fist on the long table.

"This is oppression, this is discrimination, this is rape of me and other young wizards under the age of seventeen! Professor has no right to make decisions for young wizards." With each sentence, Owen would slam his hand hard against the long table.

The plates and wine glasses bobbed and swayed, making a noisy, chaotic sound as they collided with the table.

He spread his arms, stepped onto the chair at the long table, and shouted: "Don't we even have the right to control our own lives?"

Does Hogwarts intend to take away even this most basic human right?

Could you possibly be any more greedy?

Oh, Merlin!

If I am born in shackles, raised in a prison, my hands bound with rope, my feet chained! If we are not born free, at least we have the right to choose death!

"That's right!" Fred jumped up. "We want freedom! We don't want chains!"

George joined in, shouting, "Freedom! No chains!"

"We want freedom! Not chains!"

The Gryffindors started a commotion.

"What is a warrior? It's just a qualification to participate in a competition. Now, I will use my power to grant that qualification to a young wizard," Owen said angrily.

His voice was louder and clearer with each sentence than the one before.

"Can't someone under seventeen participate in the competition?" His gaze was now filled with fervor.

My gaze swept over each professor on the podium.

"It's just an outdated and unreasonable rule. I want to challenge it! That's perhaps what I—and we should be doing now!"

He became increasingly excited.

It was as if, at this moment, all the light from the thousands of candles in the auditorium was focused on him alone.

The young wizards beside him looked up, their gazes filled with admiration and excitement.

And admiration.

"What's with all this talk about danger and difficulty!" Owen looked at his classmates. "They just keep demanding and exaggerating the mistakes that even adult wizards can make. And then they blame us for not listening to their advice and for being reckless."

Students!

We must not be manipulated by such morality, much less become tools they use to perfect their own virtue. This is often far more terrifying than obeying their orders!

"Unite and fight for your rights! Bravely overcome all obstacles and claim the crown of being human."

When the ancient castle of Hogwarts blossoms with the flowers of freedom, when this castle is free from oppression, when blood and fire become swords that sever the throne of the evil rulers, the flowers of freedom will spread from our tombstones to the untouchable heavens.

Holy crap—that's really well written, hehe!

(End of this chapter)