I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 248 The Trio: Different Fates

No matter how loud the sound is.

They couldn't even budge Goyle and Crabbe's feet an inch.

Because Miss Granger is watching them intently!

"snort!"

In the courtyard, Hermione let out a soft hum.

Holding several thick spellbooks in her right hand and a wand in her other hand, she and Harry Ron walked past Malfoy, who was stuck in the ground and unable to move, as if they were just passing by.

No matter how much he cursed, he stopped walking without caring at all.

Gradually, the voices behind them became hoarse.

It became less sharp and sarcastic.

She even started sobbing a little.

Watching Harry, Ron, and Hermione walk away.

Draco suddenly remembered last Christmas when the Dark Lord invaded Hogwarts. Even when facing the world's most fearsome wizard, Poot stood up to confront him, and his friends always stood behind him.

Together with him, we faced a formidable enemy.

And what about myself?

Gore and Crabbe?

Forget it! They're faster than anyone else.

Suddenly, Draco, like a child who had lost everything, burst into tears.

He didn't understand why his father no longer cared for him as much as before.

He didn't understand why that lousy guy was so popular.

He didn't understand that the Mudblood would be sought after by wizards all over the world.

He didn't understand Sanchez. He was clearly cruel, violent, and had no manners whatsoever. Why did so many people at school respect him?

He doesn't understand!

He doesn't understand.

As the sole heir of the most prestigious Malfoy family, he should be the one enjoying the glory!

"Oh! You're crying already!"

Suddenly a figure appeared, blocking out the sun in front of him.

The dust left in the air from the recent battle outlined the shape of the sunlight.

All the light belongs to him.

Irving squatted down in front of Draco.

His presence here was entirely accidental. Professor McGonagall had just scolded him in the hallway because of what happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Grumpy and unhappy, he had driven away the professor, who was supposed to be heading towards the courtyard, and ended up here instead.

Hmm—how should I put it?

Perhaps this is the guidance of fate.

"Who's crying, you bastard, get out of here!" Draco shook his head, trying to wipe the shameful tears from his face, but it didn't work and only made more tear streaks appear on his face.

Irving smiled; this kid was just being stubborn.

always like this.

Hmm—if he hadn't appeared here, this guy would probably have turned to the dark side and gone down the path of a Death Eater.

The gears of fate began to turn, and a turning point arrived when his appearance opened up an unknown path for Draco.

In the mud, Draco, his face flushed, kept making excuses.

Irving was really confused by what he was hearing.

Where's the tsundere? Don't you know that tsundere has become obsolete?

"Alright then, I'm going to class." Owen turned around and walked towards the corridor.

From there he would go directly to the auditorium, followed by the spiral staircase.

"Damn it! Don't go!" Draco turned around hastily. "Get me out of here!"

"Hmph!" The black-haired boy in front stopped, turned around, and said with a slight sigh and nonchalance, "Fine, fine."

"My young master Malfoy."

"Hey! What are you doing!" Although that annoying guy spoke lightly, the light emanating from the spell on his hand was anything but reassuring.

It was a dark green, like a flowing tide.

"Go." Suddenly, a branch—or rather, a vine—as thick as the little wizard's calf, spread out from the light.

"What are you thinking about!" Owen said slowly. "This is the Devil's Vine that Professor Sprout gave me."

"That thing grows too fast. She can't handle it all."

The demonic vines, imbued with ancient magic, had instantly filled the entire corridor. Green branches and leaves covered the stone pillars everywhere.

The sunlight shone on it, leaving a large patch of dappled light.

Although these devil vines will wither quickly after the supply of ancient magic is cut off, these things are disposable items anyway, and the professor has plenty more than a wall of them.

The devil vine stretched out its tendrils, like a pair of hands, and passed under Draco's armpits, then pulled him out like a radish.

"Good day." Owen waved, then turned gracefully and disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

In the corridor, only Draco remained standing there.

Suddenly, he felt the sun was too bright.

The green leaves drooping on the stone pillars peeked out, all retreating into the shadows behind them.

Just moments ago they were basking in the sunlight, casting dappled shadows, but now they huddle trembling in the darkness.

Looking at the devil vines before him, Draco felt as if something was pressing against his chest. He wanted to say something, but no words came out.

The swaying branches do their best to protect the roots from the direct sunlight.

A gust of autumn wind, thick with moisture, swept across the castle from the other side of the cliff, rustling the branches and vines through the corridors, leaving him momentarily stunned.

Perhaps—that's what he was thinking.

I too must go and search for my own true branches and sun.

------

Hufflepuff's next lesson is Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration.

Although everyone was still caught up in what had just happened, wanting to discuss when Moody would finally unleash his fury on Owen—the Slytherins' anticipation.

But no one dared to whisper during Transfiguration class.

Professor McGonagall is getting stricter and stricter; she has now found a way to counter Owen.

If this kid acts out, don't give him a chance to speak; just ask him to leave.

Once this charming little devil opens her mouth, endless trouble awaits her.

Throughout the entire class, Professor McGonagall selectively ignored Irving.

She checked everyone's summer homework one by one. Then she reviewed the content and transformation principles taught last semester.

Then she divided the Hufflepuff and Slytherin wizards into two teams.

They are in opposition to each other.

Both sides are required to use spells to attack, while the other side uses a transformation spell to resist, using the prepared teapots for each person.

Of course, the young wizard is not allowed to use attack spells during this process.

It can only be a levitation spell, or a small, harmless prank spell like a whimsical charm.

Honestly, it's difficult.

Although most fourth-year wizards can transform a teapot into any animal of the same size, quick reflexes are not enough for them to successfully perform a transformation in combat.

Apart from Irving, Hannah was the only one who succeeded in the entire lesson.

"Five points for Hufflepuff!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed happily.

Although Irving didn't understand, he could do it easily, so why didn't the professor give him extra points?

Before he could even utter a word about discrimination, oppression, or anger, the professor presented him with a reward.

Um—copying school rules.

Under Professor McGonagall's watchful gaze, even though he hadn't yet broken any school rules this year, the professor had already given him a heads-up.

Then you see a strange scene in the classroom: the little wizards are "happily" waving their wands, chanting spells in the air, and having a lively battle.

Meanwhile, our true entertainer, Owen, sat alone in a secluded corner far from the center of the classroom—next to Professor McGonagall's lectern—writing furiously.

The quill pen wrote faster and faster, and Irving's expression became increasingly ferocious.

Hmph—I'll pour my injustice and anger onto parchment, and carve this oppression and anguish into words, embedding them into the wood. (PS: It's the parchment that's pierced by too much force, the pen tip dancing on the table.)

Many Hufflepuffs were secretly laughing at Owen's humiliating performance.

The Slytherins, on the other hand, displayed a very direct and defiant gaze. (They dared not directly mock them.)

Only Draco remained silent.

Hannah, who had just received a bonus from Professor McGonagall, was also silent.

She was nothing like she was last year; she was so quiet, it was as if she were a completely different person.

After class, Irving finally felt relieved after submitting a lengthy "personalized school rule" of several thousand words.

He didn't keep Hannah and Justin waiting for him.

night.

Owen, returning from his stroll through the castle, encountered the young Gryffindor wizard in front of the Great Hall.

The lion cubs all wore expressions of displeasure and uttered foul language; it was obvious to anyone that they had spent the afternoon there.

As soon as we entered the auditorium.

He then heard Harry and Ron frantically targeting Snape.

The language was crude and the actions were exaggerated.

Occasionally, a few words of foreign language would slip out.

It sounded like French, which Owen couldn't quite understand; their accents were too strange. It could also be Arabic, since Ron's brother Bill had taught them a lot of Arabic during the World Cup.

They've forgotten most of it.

But those "damn it" things are things I'll never forget.

Looking at the two 'enthusiastic' people.

Irving shook his head; they come here every year.

They were only excited for a short time; after a couple of days, once they got used to Snape's sarcastic remarks, they wouldn't have much energy left to curse him.

As for Hermione.

Irving didn't see her; she was probably secretly competing in the library again.

Over the next few days, Hogwarts gradually calmed down.

Professor Binns—the ghost who teaches them the history of magic—has assigned them this week a paper on the eighteenth-century goblin rebellion.

This is a very interesting assignment.

In the afternoon, the young wizards gathered in the library, searching for books about the fairy rebellion.

This is not easy.

It's not because there are too few, but because there are too many.

Fairy rebellions have been ongoing since the sixteenth century. (One account suggests that the legendary wizard Merlin died in the sixteenth century, marking the beginning of other intelligent beings challenging the wizards' rule.)

From the first Fairy Rebellion in 1612 until the 18th century, various large-scale wars continued for many years.

Even now, in the darkness unseen by those wizards, those unwilling souls are still gathering power.

They attempted to overthrow the wizards' rule.

And

The First Goblin Rebellion even briefly occupied Hogsmeade Village. If they had been able to conquer Hogwarts at that time, it would have opened a new chapter in the history of magic.

Unfortunately, they failed.

The first fairy rebellion broke out because the fairies were dissatisfied that they had no place in Wisengamo at the time. However, the war ended in their defeat.

In this rebellion, the fairies lost what was most important to them in the wizarding world—Gringotts.

Two hundred years later, in the Second Goblin Rebellion in the 18th century, they regained control of Gringotts.

Of course, Irving wasn't originally interested in these things.

It was only after he learned that ancient magic truly existed that he became interested in the Third Fairy Rebellion of 1881, which was destroyed by that transfer student whose name could not be directly spoken.

"That's incredible." Harry held up a thick history of magic, "The Horrible Goblin Wars of the 19th Century." "Look, the goblins even breached Hogwarts."

"How is this possible!" Ron exclaimed in disbelief, taking the history of magic book from Harry's hands. "This—"

The record clearly states that in June 1882, the goblin rebel Lanlock led his followers—loyal warriors and a large number of dark wizards—to attack Hogwarts.

"This—digging a tunnel?"

The young wizards crowded around, and Justin's eyes widened as much as Ron's. "There's such a way?"

The tree clearly stated that Lanlock and his men had used a magical machine to create a tunnel leading directly to the base of Hogwarts.

If it weren't for the fifth-year transfer student 'coincidentally' stumbling upon their plot, and the professors joining forces to defeat the fairy, they might have actually succeeded.

"Fairies can actually build such massive alchemical machines," Hermione remarked, staring at a photograph on a tree. It was taken after the war, according to a report in the Daily Prophet.

It looked as huge as the Hogwarts Express.

The all-metal structure, though photographed in black and white, still reveals a dangerous glint in its reflection.

"Fairies are naturally better at crafting than wizards; even the Gryffindor sword was made by fairies!"

"And there's the sword of the Saber King. The Lady of the Lake is a kind of fairy, isn't she?" Owen said quietly. What he cared about was what that fifth-grade transfer student had done and where he had gone.

Unfortunately, as if someone deliberately deleted parts of history, apart from the fairy rebellion and a few words about that person, there is no record of him anywhere else.

This disappointed Irving.

It might be helpful to use him to find traces of ancient magic left in Hogwarts Castle!

"Ahoge?" Hermione blinked.

He gently stroked the tuft of hair on the top of his head that had stood up again.

I always felt that this guy was really alluding to her.

"Don't worry about her, this one doesn't have her. This one is about Merlin," Owen said softly, leaning back in his chair.

Mrs. Pince has been frequently glancing here.

If you speak loudly again, she will definitely kick you out.

"Look at Harry's dad and Sirius, then look at Dumbledore and Grindelwald, who can't see what this version of Merlin looks like?"

He raised an eyebrow and continued, "Don't believe in Merlin; it will bring misfortune."

"Huh?" The other young wizards all looked up, staring at him in confusion.

"Hey hey—back to fairies, hmph—the three fairy wars witnessed the gradual decline of human wizards. The first one was even won, although house-elves helped the wizards. Don't ask me how I know, after all, wizarding history doesn't record that they received help from fairies."

Even with the help of the fairies the second time, it's clear from the fact that the wizards couldn't be said to have lost, but they weren't exactly victorious either.

As for the third time, the wizard was utterly defeated, and defeated completely, quite ironically, because the Ministry of Magic was completely unaware of the entire affair. Yes—a war broke out, but the Ministry of Magic was oblivious. If it weren't for a certain accident, the goblin would almost have succeeded. It can only be said that Hogwarts won, a certain fifth-year transfer student won, but the wizard was utterly defeated.

"Sometimes I really don't understand. Wizards are so weak, why haven't those magical creatures overthrown me? But after thinking about it, I realized why. Because they're even weaker!" Owen said casually, which made a group of young wizards roll their eyes.

This guy is really crazy, he even curses himself.

However, what Owen said caught Hermione's attention, because she heard that during the goblin rebellion, the elves sided with the wizards.

This is missing from the history of magic.

For her, finding the missing achievements of the house-elves was the best weapon to liberate them and their imprisoned minds.

Hermione's little head already had a million ideas.

She planned to search the castle library to see if there were any books that detailed the history of elves.

Of course, Miss Granger's little scheme was all within Irving's calculations.

With this tireless little lion helping him find information from 1881, he could be infinitely more relaxed.

Soon—the young wizards experienced firsthand what Hermione's speed was all about.

During dinner, she had already completed a two-thousand-word article calling on wizards to respect history.

And she also wrote a 500-word outline for Professor Spencer's dissertation on the Fairy Rebellion.

the next day.

They gathered together again for the divination class.

Hermione has already given up on the course.

But Irving didn't. Listening to Professor Trelawney brag was quite interesting and very relaxing.

Today they are learning about planetary prophecy.

Sure enough, as Professor Trelawney's prophecy board, Harry was once again surrounded by various signs of death.

Her explanation this time was that Harry was born under the ominous influence of Saturn, which is why he was so unfortunate.

Professor Sprout tells everyone that the movements of the planets and the mysterious signs they display can only be deciphered by those who understand the rules of the celestial dance. Human destiny can be deciphered through the radiation of the planets, which intertwine with each other.

Do you believe it?

Anyway, Irving doesn't believe it.

"Professor!" In the suddenly quiet classroom, where you could hear a pin drop, Owen's voice was exceptionally bright.

"What would Tom do if he knew that the prophecy about the savior came from you?"

Irving hunched his shoulders, pinched his nose, and tried his best to believe that he didn't have a nose. Then he brushed the stray hairs from his forehead to reveal his smooth forehead and imagined that he didn't have any hair.

When everything was ready, he grinned maliciously, his mouth agape, and roared hysterically, "I know it was you who killed those fortune tellers; the prophecy that defeated me was given to me by you!"

Come on, I'll kill you a thousand times, and it still won't be enough!!!

(End of this chapter)