I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 244 Owen: A tribute to the greatest Hogwarts headmaster, whose glory I will protect!

"Freedom! Freedom!! Freedom!!!"

George cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted loudly.

The other young wizards were also spurred on.

The winds of freedom from Hufflepuff blew through Ravenclaw, through Gryffindor, and through Slytherin.

The entire audience erupted in cheers.

In an instant, all sorts of strange slogans floated above the auditorium.

What?! "The school is going to allow young wizards into the restricted area!" came Ravenclaw's voice.

What?! "The kitchen recipes are too monotonous, we need to add more!" came Hufflepuff's voice.

What?! "Kick Gryffindor out of Hogwarts!" came the Slytherin voice.

What?! "Slytherin, disband!" came the voice of Gryffindor.

One after another!

Some even chanted the slogan, "Drive the evil ruler Dumbledore out of Hogwarts!"

The professors on the stage were speechless, their faces turning pale.

Especially the newly appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Moody.

His only normal eye revealed deep confusion and surprise.

This Hogwarts—it's not quite what he remembers.

I've only been out of school for less than fifty years, haven't I?

What's wrong with the student atmosphere these days?

"Comrades! Fellow countrymen! Students!"

Irving, the torchbearer, raised his hands and passionately exclaimed, "Is life so precious that it is worth paying for with shackles and slavery?"

Merlin above, go and stop them!

I do not know what path others will choose, but for me, freedom or death!

He roared angrily, tears welling in his eyes!

This action inspired countless young wizards. Their burning passion boiled over.

The wizards shouted at the top of their lungs, "Give me liberty or give me death!"

"Give me liberty or give me death!!"

"Give me liberty or give me death!!!"

The roar was deafening, the scene was truly spectacular!

The stirring voices were like cannons destroying the remnants of the old era!

With each resounding boom, all demons, monsters, and vile creatures will perish and return to the heavens.

Yes, the call to overthrow Dumbledore's rule has sounded from this moment. Let us join hands and send this insidious, despicable, and innocent headmaster who withheld the young wizards' royalties to his grave!

"Ahem—" Finally, after watching the whole show, Dumbledore spoke again calmly. Of course—the young wizards' shouts continued, but miraculously, the old headmaster's voice reached everyone's ears accurately. "Actually, besides this, there's something else I need to announce!"

No one paid any attention to the old principal.

They continued shouting.

Old Deng continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the winner of the "Alchemy of Today" annual alchemy contribution award was announced yesterday.

"Congratulations to Owen Sanchez, the fourth-year wizard at Hogwarts, for winning this grand prize. In addition to the trophy, he will also receive a substantial cash prize."

"Bonus?" Upon hearing this, Owen froze, standing on the chair.

He immediately showed disdain, "Today's Alchemy?"

That's some kind of trashy newspaper.

Haha—although it is a high-end academic journal, the number of subscribers to this kind of newspaper is extremely small. How much prize money can they prepare?

Three hundred? Or five hundred?

Dude, are you someone who's short of three or five hundred?

Old Deng noticed the disdain in Owen's eyes. Behind his crescent-shaped glasses, his blue eyes were full of laughter. "Because alchemy hasn't had many important inventions for decades, this award has been vacant for a while, and naturally, the prize money has been accumulating."

"accumulation?"

Amidst the clamor of voices, Owen and Dumbledore's voices were accurately transmitted to each other.

"How many could there be?" Owen jumped off the chair.

Upon hearing this, the old principal slightly raised two fingers.

"two hundred?"

"Twenty thousand Galleons!" said Dumbledore.

"???"

"Shut your mouths, all of you!!!" Owen turned his head sharply, pointed his wand at his neck, and activated the Amplification Charm.

Instantly, his voice boomed like thunder.

The enthusiastic young wizards seemed to have been doused with a bucket of cold water; their faces turned red, and they stopped talking as if choking.

"How much?" Then, he quickly turned around and looked at Dumbledore with clear eyes.

"Oh—let me think about it." At this, the old rascal principal pretended not to know again.

He dragged out his words, his expression calm yet somewhat mocking, then slowly searched his body, but found nothing after a long time.

Just as Irving was about to settle in Bengbu, he suddenly had a look of realization on his face, as if he had remembered something.

He looked down at his plate.

Then the silver tray was moved aside, revealing a letter.

"Hmm—to be precise," he opened the letter, "it's twenty-one thousand two hundred and fifty Galleons."

"Yes, twenty-one thousand two hundred and fifty Galleons."

Hehehe!

Upon hearing the most beautiful sound of his life, the shameless guy, who had previously had a clear and innocent expression, now wore a fawning, sycophantic smile.

Amidst the shocked gazes of the entire school, the guy, completely disregarding his image, suddenly pulled his leg out from behind the long table and then sprinted forward like a butterfly in full bloom, skipping and hopping all the way to the front of the stage.

Even at this point, the guy hadn't stopped moving.

His face was so oily it looked like he could squeeze out animal fat!

Professor McGonagall had no doubt that Owen would pounce on Dumbledore's weathered face and slap him across the cheek!

Fortunately, as the headmaster of Hogwarts, Old Man Dumbledore maintained his composure.

He reached out and covered Irving's face with his hand.

"You are my maternal grandmother."

Wenda: ?

"I'll write a letter to Grandpa right away and ask him to come back and marry you!"

Through the gaps between Dumbledore's fingers, Owen's burning eyes could have lit candles.

"No need." Dumbledore's lips twitched. "You should recover. I still prefer your defiant self from just now."

"Okay, Grandma, no problem, Grandma, I'll do whatever you say. From today onwards, if you tell me to go east, I'll never go west; if you tell me to chase the dog, I'll never steal the chicken!"

"Tell me, whoever you don't like, I guarantee they won't see the sun tomorrow!"

"Hehe." The old principal's lips curled up wildly; he was practically bursting with joy. "Call me Grandpa," he said.

"Okay, Grandpa, no problem, Grandpa. Have you eaten, Grandpa? Are you full, Grandpa? I'll go to the kitchen and make you some more!"

"Oh! What a mess I've made of my brain." He suddenly reached into his pocket, searched around for a moment, and pulled out a large box of chocolates. "Try this, Italian liqueur chocolates, I bought them in Milan."

"Just leave it there!" the old headmaster said stubbornly, but then, after a moment's thought, he suddenly narrowed his eyes and stared at Owen. "You bought it in Milan?"

"Did you illegally cross the border into Europe?"

"Um—" Irving was speechless for a moment, his face gradually turning awkward.

Knock—I forgot about that, I got too excited.

"Come to my office in a bit!" Dumbledore said sternly.

However, at this point, he did not have much of a plan to defend Irving on this topic.

We've already lost enough face today.

The rest.

Let's just throw it away tomorrow!

He waved his hand, and Filch, the Hogwarts warden, slowly pushed a cabinet in through the side door next to the podium.

Dumbledore went to meet him and waved his hand to lift the gray cloth covering the cabinet.

Then a huge trophy, several tens of inches tall, appeared in everyone's sight.

It was a trophy shaped like a hand made of pure gold, with a huge gemstone in the palm that radiated a mysterious crimson color, resembling a heart.

Next to the trophy was a book with a pure gold cover—"The Secrets of Ancient Alchemy."

"Wow!" Everyone exclaimed in surprise.

The meaning behind this alchemy trophy is quite clear: the hand-shaped base symbolizes the winner's complete mastery of alchemy, and the gem in the hand is shaped like a magic stone, representing the highest achievement in alchemy, highlighting the trophy's extraordinary nature.

The entire structure is made of gold.

Gold is the most mysterious metal in alchemy.

"In the name of Nicolas Flamel," Dumbledore said, raising the trophy from the cabinet, "I award you the Philosopher's Cup in recognition of your immense contributions to the universal promotion of alchemy and to the improvement of alchemical experiments."

The old principal solemnly handed the trophy to Irving.

But instead of Irving reaching out to catch it, he was met with a different outcome.

Instead, it was—"Please wait a moment!"

Just for a moment!

As he spoke, Irving raised his hand to stop the old principal from extending the trophy.

He then turned around and frantically rummaged through his pockets, searching for something.

After a while.

His face lit up with joy, and he pulled out two different medals from his pocket.

A gold medal engraved with his name; it was a special contribution award that Owen received in his first year of school.

The second medal is significantly more luxurious, featuring a purple ribbon and gold medallion, engraved with a sword and wand, with a lion representing Camelot at the bottom.

That sword is very interesting.

That magic wand is also very interesting.

It wasn't a medieval longsword. Of course, King Arthur's era wasn't the Middle Ages. The sword was faintly engraved with countless magical runes, like Gryffindor's sword. Clearly, it wasn't a human creation; it was very likely made by fairies or elves.

The sword of victory from the Lake Fairy.

As for that wand, the wand of the Archmage Merlin was not the wand used by modern wizards. Although the Ollivander family, the master wand makers, had been making wands since before Christ, its design had been constantly being improved.

Merlin's wand is more like a scepter; the hollowed-out wooden wand is quite tall, almost as long as King Arthur's sword.

Camelot stood tall and imposing behind him, his medals forming a circle at the center, with the names of many people meticulously engraved along the edges.

Arthur, Gawain, Geraint, Gareth, Kay, Bedivere, Percival, Lancelot, etc.

Order of Merlin, Second Class!

Although Owen didn't understand why the Order of Merlin was covered in Camelot's marks, it didn't diminish his supreme honor as a wizard.

He received this last year when he returned to school to protect a young wizard from Dementors.

Irving had a cheerful smile on his face.

He wore both medals around his neck, then waved, "Hey! Colin, come on over! Take a picture of me!"

Colin, whose name was called by Irving, was clearly a little confused!

He instinctively got up, grabbed his camera, and ran over.

At this moment, Irving received the Philosopher's Cup from Dumbledore.

"Click!" The camera faithfully recorded this scene.

A classic reincarnation photo was born: Irving sporting the same unrestrained smile as Lockhart, Dumbledore's face contorted with annoyance, and the professors behind him covering their faces and hurriedly turning their heads away.

This photograph will be permanently published in The History of Magic!

Even under the joint accusations of the professors and Dumbledore, the publishers did not back down and stubbornly published the photograph in the biography of Owen in "A History of Magic."

As a result, the two sides have clashed many times.

Of course that's all for later.

Back to the present, amidst the gazes of a group of young wizards, seven parts disdain, two parts envy, and one part resentment.

Gemini and those he knows raise international friendship gestures.

Amidst boos from the audience in the slow auditorium.

The unforgettable, enjoyable, and rewarding 1994 opening ceremony has finally come to an end! (laughs)

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.

The storm, which had raged all day, subsided the next morning, but a somber mood still hung over the auditorium ceiling.

When Owen and Hannah arrived at the auditorium, large, thick, bluish-gray clouds were rolling overhead.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were eating breakfast while studying their course schedules for the semester.

Of course, Hermione was the one doing the talking, while her two charms were listening.

Not far away, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were a few seats away from them.

The three were discussing what magical spell they could use to age themselves so they could get away with it and participate in the Three Kingdoms Tournament.

In fact, all the young wizards in the hall were discussing this topic.

Those older wizards who were of the right age were all secretly pleased, each with a wonderful feeling that they were about to become warriors.

"Good morning!" George and Fred greeted Owen.

The moment he appeared, the two of them jogged over.

"Tell me," George asked eagerly.

"You must have a way, right? Something to make us older!"

"What age?" Irving replied, bewildered.

"Come on! He's seventeen!" Fred said seriously. "We absolutely have to participate in the championship!"

"That's right!" the group of young wizards beside him said in unison.

"What tournament?" Irving continued, feigning ignorance.

"Go to hell!" George exclaimed angrily. "Dumbledore bribed you with just 20,000 Galleons?"

"Stop!" Irving raised his hand to stop George. "Do you want to hear what you're saying?"

"What did I say?" George paused slightly, then continued, "Dumbledore used twenty thousand."

knock!

Twenty thousand!

That's 20,000 Galleons! If we gave it to them, they wouldn't even have to participate in the tournament!

Suddenly George and Fred became depressed.

Because they realized that if the same thing happened to them, they would make the same choice as Irving rather than criticize him.

"What's the first class in the morning?" Owen asked Hannah as he walked past the twins to the dining table.

"Herbalism class, with Gryffindor," Hannah said dejectedly, holding Sirocco.

"The first class of the semester is Professor Sprout's class." Owen stuffed a piece of bread covered in jam into his mouth. "The professor who's scheduling the classes finally realized he's going to separate Gryffindor and Slytherin."

As she spoke, Hermione suddenly walked over.

Owen turned to look at her, took a bite of his apple, and said, "What's wrong, Miss Granger? Here to borrow money?"

"Let me tell you, not a chance!"

"."

Hermione was speechless. This girl should really drown in the Galleon sea, so she wouldn't be annoyed by her every day.

"I don't care about your stinking money!" she said curtly.

"That place?" Owen asked, watching her sit on a bench some distance away from them.

"That's twenty thousand! Twenty thousand!" he emphasized again.

Do you know how much Mr. Weasley earns annually?

Do you know how much the poor working people in those shops in Diagon Alley earn in a month?

"Do you know that the payment I gave Dobby is more than most wizards?"

"You don't know, before you foolishly prepare to establish some 'House-Elf Rights Promotion Association,' I want to say, can we please stop standing on our moral high ground and pointing fingers?"

"???"

Hermione was completely confused.

"You changed the subject way too fast," she said. "And where did you hear that I didn't want to establish any 'House-Elf Rights Promotion Association'?"

"I've read the script!" Owen took a bite of his meat pie. "You're going to talk about this in the next chapter."

"."

What the heck is the next chapter?

Do you think this is some kind of novel?

Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

Owen continued rambling on, trying to shut her up if she wanted to borrow money, "Mr. Weasley's annual salary is over seven hundred gallons."

An average Diagon Alley worker, like at Borgin-Bock, can only earn a pitiful twenty-odd gallons a month, though your wages may increase as you work longer hours.

I paid Dobby a weekly wage of twenty-seven gallons.

"stop!"

"That's not what I came to ask." Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by Owen's rambling.

She almost forgot why she came here in the first place.

And—Miss Granger's gaze turned slightly serious.

This was the first time she had ever heard about wizards' hourly and annual salaries, as well as the living conditions of ordinary wizards.

Twenty Galleons a month.

Honestly, this amount is outrageously low.

She didn't know anything else.

But the little wizard needs to buy those magical items.

Although Hogwarts doesn't charge tuition or room and board, everything else costs money.

The robes, wands, brooms, scales, cauldrons, and books are all items that students must purchase themselves.

Even a complete set of glass bottles requires five gallons.

Aside from the flying broom, she spent over sixty Galleons just to buy everything on her list in her first year.

The second grade was even more outrageous, because each of Lockhart's books was very expensive, with the cheapest costing at least five Galleons.

Hermione shook her head. "An ordinary person who can only earn twenty Galleons a month."

Fortunately, this is a magical world.

Otherwise, most people would starve to death.

"That's why we hold the World Cup, and in part, the semi-finals."

My dear Miss Granger.

Suddenly, Owen's voice sounded in her ear like a sigh.

(End of this chapter)