I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 249: The trio living out the rest of their lives peacefully is also an option.

In today's divination class.

Professor Trelawney checked their homework one by one. Harry and Ron had received high marks for their homework, which they found particularly ridiculous.

She read aloud many parts of their prophecy and praised them for their courage in accepting the terrible things that were about to happen—but when she asked them to make a prediction about their fate the month after next, they didn't find it so funny.

They couldn't think of any new disasters.

As for Irving, because he predicted that he would become the dominant force on Earth, he only received a P score.

(Excellent - O)

(Exceeded expectations - E)

(Pass - A)

(Difference - P)

P.

He's been in school for so long and has never gotten this score outside of Potions class.

Moreover, normally even Snape wouldn't go against his conscience and give him a wrong grade; in most cases, his potion grades would be A.

This greatly displeased Irving.

Thinking about it that way, his predictions are most likely to come true!

It's true that you can't talk about ice with a summer insect, and you can't talk about the sea with a frog in a

Then the course officially began.

Professor Trelawney first went on to talk about a lot of methods for predicting fate from planets.

It seems to make some sense.

Besides Professor Trelawney, the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest are also seekers of this path.

Based on the changing positions of the stars, Professor Trelawney foresaw that Harry's days ahead would be filled with hardship and great difficulty; what Harry feared would indeed come, and sooner than he imagined.

However—at first glance, this statement seems quite fitting for him, but upon closer inspection, it seems to apply to any of the troublemakers present.

After all, they had a common enemy, Voldemort, who would certainly not let them go.

So, the professor was just trying to scare Harry.

After she rambled on and on, the little wizard spent the rest of the time filling out a complicated circular chart.

They have to fill in the planetary position of their birth date, which is a tedious and boring task.

It requires calculating a lot of tedious time and angles, which, in the young wizard's view, is simply a waste of time.

In fact, Owen always thought that Professor Trelawney's teaching method of scaring young wizards in class was stupid.

Why make things so definitive?

You should be like those Muggle charlatans and say more ambiguous things.

Then consider the young wizard's recent confusion. (This is very easy to find out; just ask the heads of the houses, and you'll get a pretty good idea.)

Then, combining this with the vague statement in the book above, God's agents on earth can bless you in no time.

"I know it was you who sent the fortune teller. 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!!!

To add a little fun to an ordinary classroom.

Irving talked about something interesting.

In the original story, Owen wondered why Voldemort didn't just find the person who made the prophecy and interrogate them, instead of using a prophecy orb.

But after meeting Professor Trelawney, he knew that no one with a fully developed brain would believe that this crazy guy was really a prophet.

Voldemort probably never expected that Dumbledore would play a trick on him, and Professor Trelawney was indeed too deceptive in appearance.

But that didn't stop Irving from continuing to scare her.

"From this moment until the end of time—I will kill you again and again!" Owen continued, mimicking a deep, joking tone.

the other side,

Professor Trelawney seemed severely frightened upon hearing this.

She shivered, then her lips twitched, and she panicked. She stumbled back several steps, and in her shock, she accidentally bumped into Ximo's table behind her, tearing the planetary chart he had painstakingly created to shreds.

"Oh my god! Professor, you've torn up my assignment, I can't continue writing it now," Seamus said jokingly, barely suppressing the smile that was about to appear on his face.

In fact, Simo didn't know how to draw planetary diagrams at all.

He only made a few strokes on the parchment and didn't actually finish much.

"Ah!" Professor Trelawney got up from the ground.

He supported Simo, pulling from his arm down to his face and finally to his hair.

His face was filled with terror: "I—I—No! I didn't!"

She screamed, pinching hard with both hands.

Simo was also screaming, covering his hair with both hands.

That really hurts!

Professor Trelawney was startled when she heard screams coming from beside her.

She quickly realized what was happening, and trembling, she patted Ximo's head twice, then withdrew her hand as if she were very frightened.

"Go tell Tom what you said and see if he believes you!" Owen raised his eyebrows, leaned back in his chair, and leisurely observed what was happening in front of him.

"He will kill me, yes—he will definitely kill me."

"No, quite the opposite. I'm sure he won't hurt you. After all, he needs your prophecy to turn the tide!" Owen chuckled, his eyes sparkling with a clear light.

Don't think he's joking. Voldemort will definitely take good care of Professor Trelawney. A precious talent like her will not be killed so easily.

Right? — I think so!

Unfortunately, Professor Trelawney didn't listen to a word he said.

She hid in fear behind the classroom curtain, peeking out her head with huge, oval eyes, her innocent gaze sweeping across the classroom.

"Get out of here, all of you, now!"

She said in a sharp and aggressive voice.

Her fluffy and messy hair made her look like a mad lion.

The young wizards dared not linger; they immediately got up and rushed out of the sweltering and crowded North Tower as if fleeing.

"Professor!" Owen waved to Professor Trelawney.

"Let's go, let's get out of here!" She stepped out from behind the bed curtains and stood alone behind the armchair in the center of the classroom.

There was a cabinet to her right.

The top of the cabinet was filled with all sorts of crystal balls. Further to the right, there was an even taller cabinet, covered with all kinds of teapots.

The cabinet closest to her, however, did not contain any magical items; in fact, it held Professor Trelawney's collection of various fine wines.

"It's probably going to be another night of heavy drinking." The person followed the crowd, turned back with a gentle smile, and then disappeared step by step into the North Tower.

Hmph—this is the consequence of marking my summer homework wrong!

The next class is Snape's Potions class.

In this lesson, he forced the young wizards to research a universal antidote. The young wizards dared not take it lightly, because Professor Snape said he would poison one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote would work.

Of course, Irving knew that Snape was just putting on a brave face.

If he dares to poison it, I'll eat this crucible on the spot.

However, this did not stop him from secretly recording what Snape said.

That's a really interesting spell, it was taught to him last semester by Professor Trelawney. (Humorous)

It was originally used to store prophecies.

Of course, recording other sounds is also no problem.

Hmph, I'll forward this voice message to Professor McGonagall in a bit and see how they handle it.

Owen pouted and walked out of the potions classroom looking annoyed.

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 final lesson was Charms—Professor Flitwick asked them to read three more books in preparation for learning Summoning Charms.

This will be the first new spell the young wizards will learn this semester.

A few days later, Irving was having dinner in the auditorium when he happened to run into Susan.

She and several other Hufflepuff wizards huddled together, whispering something mysteriously.

This immediately caught Irving's attention.

But it wasn't that Owen was particularly interested in these young girls' topics—he simply enjoyed hearing secrets, especially the unspeakable, dark ones.

"I heard there was an accident at Hannah's house," Susan said, her head down, as they whispered among themselves.

"What's wrong with her?" Owen leaned closer and overheard this question.

"You don't know?" Susan Borns turned her head and looked at Owen in surprise.

Her round face was full of surprise, and her brown hair was tied in a single ponytail behind her back.

"She's her aunt."

"Aunt?" Owen raised an eyebrow.

He really didn't know.

Hannah had never told him about her family.

Sitting with them on a bench in Hufflepuff, Owen looked at her with a frown.

"In early July, right when we were on summer vacation," Susan explained quickly, "a mad wizard broke into their house."

"At that time, her mother and aunt were at home preparing breakfast."

"And then?" Irving asked.

"And then?" A hint of sadness flashed in Susan's eyes. "That madman directly cast a killing curse on her aunt, and her mother was also injured by the curse."

"What?" Hermione screamed as she rushed over upon hearing the noise.

She had just returned from the library and walked into the auditorium to find Owen with a group of Hufflepuff girls.

So she came over.

"Her aunt died on the spot," Susan glanced at Hermione and continued, "and her mother was greatly shocked."

She continued, still shaken, "Hannah just managed to get home and stop the madman, but she couldn't prevent her aunt's death."

What's most infuriating is that the madman was yelling things like the law allows the use of killing curses, that he's innocent, and so on.

"And then? What about that madman?" Owen's tone grew colder.

He thought of himself first.

Was it because of him that Hannah was targeted by her enemies?

Those scum can only resort to such despicable means.

A strange chill swept across the faces of the young wizards present.

Hermione looked at the boy with some concern.

"The Ministry of Magic sent people to arrest him. But after a magical examination by the Ministry's healers, it was found that the man had severe psychological trauma."

"???" Owen raised an eyebrow. "So the Ministry of Magic is finally getting straight to the point?"

"He was tortured with the Crucifixion Curse," Susan added.

"Oh my god!" Hermione covered her mouth. Moody had just demonstrated this magic to them in class not long ago.

Moreover—she had personally witnessed Owen use that evil magic, the kind that sends chills down your spine just by uttering its name.

She remembered the dark wizard who was killed by Owen during the Battle of Hogsmeade, the dark wizard who was with the werewolf.

She had personally witnessed what it was like to be subjected to the Cruciatus Curse.

"But—who would cast such a spell on an ordinary wizard?" asked another Hufflepuff wizard standing nearby.

"I don't know. Nobody knows." Susan said with a hint of relief in her voice, "During that chaotic period, although we didn't feel the turmoil at Hogwarts, actually—" Her expression turned serious, her tone paused, and then she continued, "actually—many young wizards' homes were affected."

"Ernie Macmillan, Seamus of Gryffindor, and Cho Chang of Ravenclaw."

"Many people's homes have been attacked by other wizards."

"It's just that theirs isn't that serious."

"But," Hermione asked anxiously.

Her parents were ordinary people and had not experienced this conflict with the wizards. So she knew nothing about it.

"Why would they do it? I mean, who would attack someone for no reason?"

Hermione was very agitated, and her voice gradually became louder without her realizing it.

"That's what Dumbledore was worried about," Owen said casually. "The law only guarantees a person's most basic right to survival. If even this bottom line doesn't exist, then the darkest side of human nature will be fully exposed."

Can you imagine?

Even a seemingly insignificant argument in Diagon Alley could threaten your life.

"But—" Hermione was still confused.

She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come out.

Because she suddenly realized that not all wizarding families were as kind and harmonious as the Weasleys.

There are people in this world who, when a fire starts burning, choose to pour out a bucket of oil.

"Hannah was deeply affected by her aunt's death. I heard she didn't leave her room for the entire month of July, staying in her room the whole time," Susan continued. "Her mother was afraid she would get sick from being cooped up, so she took her to the World Cup."

Susan's words plunged Owen into memories.

Indeed, Hannah acted strangely during the World Cup.

She would usually stay close to him.

However, apart from participating in the melee with other academies during the World Cup, I haven't seen her since.

After a moment's thought, Irving stood up.

He decided to talk to Hannah.

Little girl, please don't get depressed.

He strode out of the auditorium.

Hermione didn't come along; she planned to ask Susan about what was happening to other wizarding families.

Go down the spiral staircase.

Turn right at a landscape painting of autumn wheat harvest and enter a narrow corridor.

Then turn left again, and the corridor suddenly opens up.

It was a large area filled with all sorts of large wooden barrels.

Most of the barrels are filled with vinegar. You must find the second barrel in the middle of the second row and tap the bottom of the barrel in the rhythm of "Helga Hufflepuff".

Soon after, through a narrow passageway that one could crawl through, a round, simple, low-ceilinged, welcoming, warm, and sunny Hufflepuff lounge unfolds before you.

Hannah hasn't gone out much lately. She's been staying in the lounge.

Irving saw her after class in the morning.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you going to eat?"

Hannah sat on the soft black sofa, staring blankly at the letter in her hand.

When she noticed Owen approaching, her expression turned flustered for a moment, and she quickly put away the letter in her hand.

Then she looked up at him and said, "It's nothing."

I'm not very hungry.

"I heard about what happened in your family," Irving said bluntly.

He walked straight to the armchair next to Hannah and sat down.

Don't expect this dark monster to comfort you.

He never comforts people; he only effortlessly solves the problems of those who need comforting.

"Hmm!" Hannah didn't show much surprise.

Whether it was knowing what happened in Irving's home or his direct attitude towards him.

That's just how he is; he's used to it.

"Don't be sad," Irving continued.

This is what a typical straight man is like.

"I'm not sad." Hannah seemed to realize that the boy in front of her wanted to comfort her.

She stuffed the letter into her pocket. "Aunt Levy doesn't get along with our family. She's addicted to a hallucinogenic potion, and I've heard that people who drink it will see what they most want to see."

She spent all her money on the raw materials for that medicine.

Outside the lounge, the swaying green vegetables, carrying the last fragrance of summer, drifted through the windows draped with yellow curtains and into the lounge.

On the windowsill sat several interesting plants, including a yellow, trumpet-shaped magical plant that Irving had seen at the fountain in front of the door, which was now singing.

The melody was melodious and gentle, like an ancient elegy from the past, sung by a mother.

"The debt collectors came to our house, and he had an argument with Aunt Levy."

"Hmm." Owen leaned back in his armchair, listening to this cheesy story.

Even a fool could guess what happened next.

He doesn't care about any of that.

What he cares about is how this incident will affect Hannah.

As for who died, why they died, and whether those who were supposed to die were still alive, none of these were within his consideration.

"That day just happened to be—"

Hannah tried to continue, but Owen started wagging his finger, signaling her to stop. "I'm asking if you're okay."

"A person died in front of you; you saw the Killing Curse kill your aunt."

What have you been thinking about these past few days, during your summer vacation, in your wildly imaginative mind?

Is it fear or regret? Is it anger or numbness?

"Me?" Hannah lowered her head. "I don't know."

Seeing this, Irving didn't ask any more questions.

He stood up and walked over, placing his hands on her shoulders.

He spoke slowly in a tone that was unusually gentle: "Witnessing death is a very painful thing."

Irving didn't say anything: "Be strong."

It's foolish to tell someone to be strong without having experienced their suffering or truly empathized with them.

It only makes people strong, which is cheap, hypocritical, and repulsive.

Very few people can truly face it bravely.

"So whatever you're thinking, I hope you can tell me, you can confide in me. Don't keep everything bottled up inside."

"You can also choose not to share with me. I respect every choice you make."

Hannah raised her head slightly.

There was an indescribable, inseparable, and unwilling-to-let-go bond in his brown eyes.

I don't know what to do!

That was her best answer.

(End of this chapter)