I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 246 Owen: Is this Moody real or fake? Moody: This little wizard is definitely fake.

The main dishes on the table were lamb chops and potatoes.

Hermione wolfed down her food, eating very quickly.

They were in such a hurry that they didn't care about their image at all.

They've probably given up on such a useless thing as choosing a partner! (laughs)

"You look like you haven't eaten for three days," Ron said in shock.

Looking at Hermione, he felt a tiny bit of fear.

"No—it's four days," Harry said jokingly.

As she stuffed a handful of bean sprouts into her mouth, making it bulge, Ron finally couldn't help but ask, "Isn't there anyone in the castle you care about?"

"I'm in a hurry!" she said.

"What's the rush?"

"I need to go to the library; I still have many questions about alchemy and transfiguration."

"Huh?" Ron said in disbelief, "Hermione—it's only the first day of school! Are you crazy?"

"Besides, hasn't the Alchemy professor arrived at Hogwarts yet this year?" Harry looked at Hermione seriously. George and Fred had told them a few days ago that their Alchemy course would be postponed.

Because this year's alchemy professor seems to have been delayed by something and will arrive at Hogwarts a little later.

Dumbledore didn't interfere; he simply told the young wizards who were taking alchemy to review their lessons.

Harry and Ron both knew about this, and Hermione certainly did too.

For these two guys who were just hoping to pass the exam, the professor not showing up at school was pure luck. Lady Luck was smiling upon them.

As for previewing or reviewing?

Sorry, they don't know how to spell those two words.

"I need to catch up with everyone else before the professor arrives at Hogwarts!"

"You're trying to catch up with Owen's pace, aren't you!" Harry ruthlessly punctured Hermione's fragile heart.

Upon hearing this, Miss Granger unconsciously lowered her head again and began to eat voraciously.

After swallowing the last bite of potato, she jumped up and simply said, "See you this afternoon."

He then took off running.

"What's wrong with her? She's never been this interested in a subject before," Ron asked Harry.

"I don't know." Harry, who was about to watch the World Cup match footage with Wood one more time, suddenly stopped talking.

"Never mind—Harry, let's go to the lawn," Ron suddenly said excitedly, as if his best friend's life had paused at that moment.

He stood there blankly, a silly smile on his face.

Ron stopped talking and frowned, following Harry's gaze.

Suddenly, a group of girls wearing blue bow ties and eagle badges on their chests walked into the auditorium.

Ron knew the girl who was in the lead.

She is Cho Chang, a fifth-grade student in Ravenclaw.

"Harry? Harry!" Ron raised his voice and shouted in Harry's ear.

But the effect was only that he tilted his head slightly, his face still bearing that lecherous grin. "She's so beautiful!" Harry said blankly.

However, perhaps the Ravenclaw girls heard the noise Ron had just made.

Just as Harry was staring at her blankly and said, "She's so pretty," the girl turned her head.

Immediately, Harry felt a surge of heat, and his cheeks quickly flushed crimson.

This scene naturally caught Zhang Qiu's eye. The girl was a little embarrassed and quickly looked away, not daring to meet Harry's burning gaze.

But the restlessness in the hearts of young boys and girls still made her unable to resist turning her eyes to Harry again.

Eyes facing each other.

Qiu Zhang Wanyan smiled, successfully delivering a critical hit to the savior.

It was like spring waves stirring the waters of a lake, the ripples gradually growing from a single point. Harry, who was sinking into the lake, was completely unaware of it, only hearing Ron's voice, which seemed to come from the horizon.

"Harry! Harry!!"

"Harry!!!"

"bite--"

The afternoon class bell rang.

Irving, Hannah Justin, and the others walked together toward the third floor.

When they rushed over because Irving had overslept, the classroom was already full.

Everyone was in high spirits and had great anticipation for the new professor's course, especially for the senior Auror from Moody's. Apart from Sirius Black, this level of enthusiasm for the course was unprecedented in several years.

The classroom was unusually quiet, and everyone had taken out their textbooks and were waiting.

Soon, they heard Moody's distinctive thumping footsteps coming down the corridor.

He walked into the classroom, looking as strange and frightening as usual.

As everyone could see, his claw-like wooden foot peeked out from under his robe.

"Put these things away," he said gruffly, as he trudged to the podium with his cane and sat down. "You don't need these textbooks. I don't need these things in my class. Take out your wands."

The young wizards packed the books into their bags, each one looking exceptionally excited.

Based on past experience, taking out a wand means the class is going to be very interesting.

Moody pulled out the roster, shook his head to clear his long, graying hair from his twisted, scarred face, and began calling out names. His normal eye moved down the list, while his demonic eye darted back and forth, staring at each student who answered.

It's like interrogating a criminal.

"Alright," he said after the last student finished answering. "I received letters from Professor Lupin and Sirius—the professor—introducing the course. It seems you've grasped quite a bit of the basics about dealing with dark magical creatures—you've learned how to handle Boggarts, Red Hats, Hinkpunk, Grindylows, Kaba, and werewolves, haven't you?"

"Yes, Professor!" Justin proudly raised his head and said.

Although Owen was always criticizing him, Justin was actually quite good at the class, at least better than the other young wizards outside the trio (Gryffindor and Hufflepuff).

It was only because Irving was there that he seemed a bit "slow to react".

In fact, Justin's magical talent was among the best in Hogwarts.

However, one person has a significant lead over everyone else.

Yes—that's what Justin always thought.

"Very good!" Moody nodded. "Given what happened last Christmas, I think you've come into contact with what may be some of the most evil dark wizards and dark magic in the world."

Moody did not participate in the battles before Hogwarts.

He had already fainted by then.

However, Sirius Black sent a letter detailing these messages.

At least he knew that these seemingly naive young children had already come into contact with Voldemort, the most evil wizard in the world.

Some of them even fought Voldemort.

This surprised him, especially Harry and Owen.

One of them was able to hold his own against Voldemort for a few rounds, and the other was able to rescue him from those terrifying monsters.

Then came the World Cup incident.

He was truly astonished.

He couldn't understand why the young wizards at Hogwarts had become so strong over the years! In his memory, even in their seventh year, very few of those young wizards had fully mastered basic defense against the dark magic.

So when Dumbledore invited him, he accepted without much thought.

He wanted to go and see—to see why Hogwarts had changed so much.

"Some of you are indeed very outstanding, even too outstanding."

"Yes, I read the newspapers and know what you did during the World Cup." Moody glanced at all the young wizards present, many of whose faces had appeared in the newspapers. "But what I want to say is that although you are all very knowledgeable, you have never actually fought a dark wizard one-on-one."

"Of course, Dumbledore would never give you such an opportunity, otherwise he would have retired."

"Haha." Moody's sudden joke lightened the atmosphere in the classroom considerably.

Many young wizards began whispering among themselves, bragging to their best friends about their feats at the World Cup.

He described how he captured Beauxbatton with his bare hands and trampled Durmstrang under his feet.

"But—you'll never learn how to fight properly just by watching!" Moody suddenly raised his voice.

The rough voice, like a broken drum, was heavy and deep, gruff and filled with unpleasant noise. His demonic eyes suddenly darted around, then fixed on Owen. "If a dark wizard suddenly cast a killing spell on you right now, how would you react, Owen?"

"Huh?" Irving was a little confused when his name was called—he was staring intently at Moody.

They speculate whether he was someone else in disguise.

So far, I haven't seen him take out any strange bottles or jars and drink any of the mysterious potions inside.

But this does not mean that the Moody in front of you is 100% him.

After all, Owen himself had met someone who could transform without using potions; one of them was his grandfather, Grindelwald.

The other one is Tonks.

"Use Transfiguration to conjure any object for physical defense, such as walls or shields. The Killing Curse can be blocked by solid obstacles."

"Very good—but most objects cannot completely block the Killing Curse, especially those released by those deranged dark wizards," Moody added.

"Then—remember the casting animation of the Killing Curse, and when the opponent uses it, use the Disarm Curse in advance to disarm their wand."

"Suddenly! I mean suddenly. What can you see in the pitch-black tunnel?" Moody suddenly stared at him, an invisible sense of oppression washing over him.

"." Irving looked up and met Moody's gaze.

He didn't feel any oppressive feeling, but the strong, strange smell of the potion emanating from him almost brought tears to his eyes.

Irving rubbed his slightly sore nose and sneezed.

Then, silently watching him, he said calmly, "Then—in the last moment of your life, raise your middle finger toward the green light. Many years later, when facing the dark wizard, people will remember that distant night when you fearlessly faced evil as it descended."

Noble people, passing by your grave, will shed hot tears for your interesting and great soul.

"."

wonderful!

Meow! This idea.

Aside from the fact that he himself is dead, it's all good!

Moody stared speechlessly at Owen. This seasoned Auror, the ruthless man who had sent half of the dark wizards of Azkaban to his lair, unusually twitched at the corner of his mouth.

Is this a solution that a normal wizard could come up with?

Make it sound so grand, but take away all the embellishments—what's the difference between this and just waiting to die in the same spot!

He stared at Owen for a long time, and after confirming that the kid wasn't playing a trick on him, but genuinely thought that look would be cool, he completely gave up and moved his magic eye elsewhere.

"mistake!"

"The correct thing to do is to lie down immediately!" Moody looked at the young wizards and then shared his years of combat experience.

"It's common knowledge that wizards need to aim when casting spells, and most wizards choose the body as their target," he said. "Because this increases the chances of hitting the target."

"You should lie down immediately; that's the fastest you can do. Then, take advantage of the gap in his spellcasting to retaliate."

Moody's words made the young wizards present look thoughtful.

They had never heard of such refined combat techniques before.

But—does lying down really help?

It seems that casting a killing spell takes only a moment; they don't have time to react.

Moody seemed to sense the confusion in the little wizard's eyes. He moved his short leg back and forth in the classroom, making a series of "thump! thump!" sounds.

"Yes, lying down isn't always effective, but it's the most effective way," he warned. "Never overdo it."

"I know that the magical abilities of the young wizards graduating from Hogwarts have been getting higher and higher over the years."

He was definitely talking about Percy.

Irving speculated.

He is the only junior wizard from the previous level who has now risen to the position of assistant to the head of the Auror's office.

Moody's is the most likely person to reach him.

"Many new Aurors lose their lives because of their arrogance." He struggled to his feet, propped himself up on his prosthetic leg, opened the drawer of the lectern, and took out a glass bottle.

Three large black spiders were crawling around inside, which looked terrifying.

"You may all know these three spells, but you've never been so close to them." Moody reached into the bottle, picked up a spider, and placed it on his outstretched palm so everyone could see it.

"Sanchez, do you know how to cast the Unforgivable Curse?" He placed the spider on the table, his demonic eyes slightly raised.

"Avada Kedavra, eating a giant melon!"

The next second, a green spell flashed by, and after a blinding green light, the spider in front of him, which had been lively just moments before, died silently.

"Isn't that just something I can say without thinking?" Irving shrugged, looking relaxed and carefree.

"."

In the empty classroom, it was as if an invisible behemoth flew through the air—the shadow of death.

It had just arrived here and taken the life of that poor spider.

"."

Moody's pupils contracted rapidly; he never expected Irving to cast Avada Kedavra directly—

He instinctively drew his wand swiftly and aimed it at Owen.

In just a moment, he came back to his senses.

Moody stared at Irving, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

He originally just wanted to intimidate this most "arrogant" young wizard at Hogwarts, as described in both Sirius Black's and Lupin's letters.

He even harbored the idea that the child might be susceptible to the Imperius Curse or the Cruciatus Curse.

But the Killing Curse—a curse that only the most wicked wizards can cast—was something he absolutely refused to believe a teenager could do.

This has nothing to do with magical skill. For a killing curse to cause terrible consequences, the caster must possess an exceptionally cruel and terrifying nature. You must be driven to a frenzied urge to kill the person before you in order to use this spell properly.

Moody had serious doubts about whether the young wizards at Hogwarts, with their darker side, could even manage to make their noses bleed.

But now—he glanced sideways at the dead spider corpse, which was as dead as could be.

Such immense power is far beyond what an ordinary junior wizard could wield.

He suspected that the child in front of him was actually a Death Eater who had infiltrated Hogwarts after drinking Polyjuice Potion.

"you"

Moody's demonic eye frantically scanned Owen. The constantly expanding and contracting eye even looked like it was about to break.

He was about to say something.

Before he could even speak, Moody was greatly puzzled by the reactions of the young wizards beside him.

Because they—didn't react much.

Justin clutched his chest, pretending to be struck by a spell, then fell backward onto the table, joking with Ernie McMillan.

McMillan and the others were all roommates.

He was a short, chubby student. He got along very well with Hannah Justin.

Of course, there wasn't anyone in the entire Hufflepuff who had a bad relationship with Hannah Justin.

Several of them, after Irving's earnest guidance, became loyal, honest, fair-minded, and hardworking again.

Hannah and Susan were whispering to each other, seemingly talking about the eight-eyed giant spider from two years ago.

That one was much bigger than the spider Moody brought out.

Most of the other young wizards had the same indifferent expression, as if Owen had merely cast a levitation spell.

Moody observed the young wizard's reaction.

He was greatly puzzled.

I don't understand why the little wizard reacted so casually.

Has the world really changed?

Or perhaps—Dumbledore improved this magic?

How can it be released without having too many evil intentions?

The idea suddenly popped into Moody's mind, but he immediately shook his head and rejected it.

How could that be? The Killing Curse has been around for hundreds of years.

Sure enough, it's more likely that this little wizard in front of me is a Death Eater in disguise!

"You can use the Killing Curse? How can you?"

"It's just a curse," Owen said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know how many wizards have died under this curse in the past few months."

"You're not going to lock me up in Azkaban just because I killed a spider, are you?" He shook his head, looking at Moody with a half-smile.

"There are many people out there who haven't been punished for this!"

"They will get their comeuppance," Moody said seriously. "Years ago, many wizards claimed they were under the influence of the Imperius Curse, which is why they followed the Mystic. Many people still use that excuse today."

"Oh! I won't." Owen's clear eyes shone with confidence. "My little head is full of secrets, and I've spent some time figuring them out. Now—no one can crack my brain."

"Yeah?"

Moody's normal eye was full of wariness.

(End of this chapter)