I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 263 What does it mean to "lead by example"?

Amazingly, the instant he finished speaking, a huge pile of food appeared on the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw table.

A variety of delicacies from Europe and North America filled the long table.

"Let's eat!" he said with a smile, directing Hannah and Justin beside him.

Why are you just spacing out instead of eating?

To onlookers, however, his expression resembled that of a demon emerging from the gates of hell.

Then, perhaps it was the aroma of the food that dispelled the tense atmosphere in the auditorium.

The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw wizards began to return to their original seats one by one, and then began to eat and drink stiffly.

As for Gryffindor and Slytherin, and the unfortunate Evamori and Durmstrangs, they could only stand there and stare helplessly.

Because their long table was destroyed in the recent battle.

"Whoosh—" In front of the auditorium.

Miss Granger took a deep breath.

He forcibly suppressed the dissatisfaction in his heart.

The college points she had earned over the past half semester vanished overnight, and she even ended up with negative scores.

It's a terrible feeling, like you've painstakingly cleaned your dorm room and mopped the floor until it's sparkling clean, but before you can even celebrate, your roommate bursts in with muddy shoes.

In that instant, I felt like killing someone.

What's even more upsetting is that she can't blame Owen, because Gryffindor deserved what they got.

She could only suppress her anger.

He gripped the magic wand tightly in his hand.

Then I took deep breaths to calm myself down and told myself that I had to be patient and strong. They were my partners and it was no big deal. It was just that we couldn't win the Academy Cup for four consecutive years!

It does not matter.

As long as Harry and the others aren't hurt—bullshit!

Miss Granger found that no matter how many excuses she made for herself, the anger in her heart did not lessen in the slightest.

There is even a trend that it is getting worse.

These rebellious children will drive her to her death one day.

—All of the above—Irving deduced by observing Hermione's expressions.

In fact, Hermione kept a cold face the whole time, her black leather shoes stepping on the muddy ground without any regard for the situation.

Then, she made her move.

Raise the grapevine wand high.

An incredibly ingenious healing spell instantly enveloped the entire hall.

The powerful magic seemed to be inexhaustible.

The broken wood chips were put back in place like building blocks.

The marble, shattered into pieces, reassembled from the dust.

Hermione walked slowly from the entrance of the Great Hall, behind her—a shattered world, returning to order as if by reversing entropy.

Soil, dust, bricks, and sawdust surged behind Hermione like a tidal wave, creating towering waves that obscured the ceiling.

Then the sea calmed down and flowed back to her feet.

Just like her restrained expression, the composure before the storm.

Magic is a manifestation of the power of emotions.

Cruel emotions give rise to dark magic like the Death Curse.

The belief in protection gave rise to white magic such as the Guardian Charm.

The scene at the scene, where the waves surged and eventually subsided, was a reflection of Hermione's inner state at that moment.

Anger, complexity, restraint, calmness.

As she approached the foot of the platform, the long table and benches belonging to Gryffindor and Slytherin behind her had been restored.

"Sit down, everyone," she said calmly as she turned around.

I sat down on the bench closest to me.

The wand tapped on the table.

The next second, a sumptuous feast appeared on the new student's table.

This is a situation where no one dares to move.

Unlike Kyrie Irving's smiling demeanor, which actually suggests a devilish nature.

Many young Gryffindor wizards saw Professor McGonagall in Hermione.

Something called majesty.

The situation reached a stalemate for a moment.

Then the Slytherins, who were the first to break the quagmire, sat down in silence.

Slytherin always seems to have a stronger resistance to Hermione.

After that, the Gryffindors took their seats in turn.

Both sides lowered their heads and silently began to eat.

Although they had already started to greet each other's parents in their hearts.

Those Gryffindors (Slytherins) have absolutely no manners! Look at us, we've embarrassed ourselves again.

However, there was no verbal or physical conflict.

The auditorium fell silent again.

The young wizards from other schools all stared in astonishment at Owen and Granger.

Few wizards have such prestige in schools. Even powerful wizards like Dumbledore and Grindelwald did not command the respect of everyone during their school years.

People who hate you simply hate you; there's no reason why.

But someone like Owen, who can overpower all the other young wizards, is extremely rare. After all, they are wizards, not Muggles. As the saying goes, "With a wand in hand, my fate is in my own hands, not Merlin's," and those who challenge you will always exist.

As for Hermione.

She was more like Dumbledore himself; her imposing aura could suppress most wizards. Although there were still a few junior wizards who were not convinced, they did not dare to act recklessly.

Of course, the young wizards from the other three schools understood that Miss Granger possessed such abilities; after all, she was the heir to Gryffindor, a renowned and outstanding wizard at Hogwarts, and the Daily Prophet had published her personal interviews for several weeks.

Her name is known from Ireland to Wales, from the Scottish Highlands to the cities of England.

Miss Hermione Granger now seems to be in a position where she feels she has no worries about finding a kindred spirit, for everyone in the world knows her.

What shocked the wizards from other schools was Owen.

Why does this relatively unknown wizard have more prestige at Hogwarts than the Gryffindor heir?

In addition, the terrifying power displayed by the Gryffindor and Slytherin wizards during their duel terrified them.

The school felt unfamiliar to them, as if they had entered another world.

Why?

Why are you all so outstanding?

Meanwhile, the young wizards of the three major schools were contemplating life.

Suddenly, the side door next to the podium was pushed open.

The visitor was Professor McGonagall.

As she got closer, she was taken aback.

The silence around her surprised her.

Then he saw in the crowd a little boy who ate rudely, grabbing and taking things without any manners.

Immediately, the answer came to him naturally.

"Hermione Granger!" she called out from the small doorway toward the Great Hall. "Miss Granger! Please come up here!"

Hearing Professor McGonagall call her name, Hermione brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and stood up blankly.

She then walked along the passageway between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables and the podium, with thousands of eyes fixed on her.

"Alright—go through that door," Professor McGonagall said gently.

The more gentle Professor McGonagall was, the more guilty Hermione felt. She felt it would be incredibly shameful if she had never won a House Cup in her seven years of schooling.

Professor McGonagall's gaze was more like a lashing lash.

"Professor—" Hermione opened her mouth and told Professor McGonagall everything that had just happened in a few words.

Hearing the sound.

The Gryphon school master, known for his seriousness, still had a smile on his face.

But from her slightly twitching lips and increasingly cold eyes, it was clear that Professor McGonagall was on the verge of exploding.

"Alright, Miss Granger. Please go in. The professors will handle the rest," she said with difficulty, then stepped aside to clear the passage behind her.

After glancing back at the sweating Gryffindor wizards, he resolutely turned and followed Hermione.

Stepping out of the hall, Miss Granger found herself in a small room with portraits of wizards hanging on the walls. Across from her, the fireplace burned brightly.

When she went in, all the faces in the portraits turned to look at her.

Hermione frowned, feeling uncomfortable under the unfamiliar gazes around her. Their eyes were too intense, as if she were some rare treasure.

She saw a wrinkled witch escape from her own picture frame and crawl into the one next to it, which depicted a wizard with a walrus beard. The wrinkled witch began to whisper in his ear.

At this moment, Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour, and Koyat Stuart were all gathered around the fire.

Bathed in the glow of the flames, the four figures stood out vividly. Krum leaned against the fireplace mantle, hunched over, deep in thought, slightly distancing himself from the other two.

Cedric stood there with his hands behind his back, his eyes fixed on the fire.

Koyatl Stewart, meanwhile, stood alone in front of the wall, away from everyone else, looking at the portraits.

When Hermione walked in, only Fleur turned around first. She rushed over quickly, her long, silver hair flowing behind her like a waterfall.

"It's so nice to see you here, Hermione. Now we're going to be rivals again."

"???" Hermione was completely confused; she didn't understand what "Hibiscus" meant.

Behind them, the professors and principals were talking about something.

Until Professor McGonagall walked over.

"Oh! It's stopped outside?" Dumbledore said with a smile. "That boy is still heartless. Ah—as one gets older, it becomes harder and harder to be heartless."

He said.

"Regarding punishment, Miss Granger just told me about the child's punishment of the entire student body—"

"I think that makes perfect sense." Headmaster Dumbledore looked calmly at Professor McGonagall. "It's just that staying up all night might have a negative impact on the young wizards' health, and most people can't stay up all night anyway."

"How about," Dumbledore smiled slightly, "let them copy the school rules! They should be able to copy them twenty times in one night. They're young and energetic; they'll copy them very quickly."

Old Deng looked like a mischievous old man, his blue eyes filled with a cunning little excitement.

Hearing this, Professor McGonagall's cheek twitched—she was utterly speechless at his utterly pointless prank. She'd been used to it for decades.

However, ever since that boy appeared at Hogwarts, Albus's "naughtiness" seems to have gotten worse.

"And Mr. Sanchez himself—"

"Of course, it's copying the school rules with the young wizard in the Great Hall," Dumbledore said seriously. "He's the student council president, so he has to set an example."

What a sin!

Professor McGonagall could no longer control the expression on her face.

On the other side—

While Owen was enjoying the perk of copying the school rules twenty times, Hermione finally learned from Fleur that she had become a Hogwarts champion.

To be honest, she was somewhat surprised, but not much.

Since starting school at Hogwarts, she's entered the castle twice a year, each time facing a new crisis. Every year brings something different, and she's gotten used to it.

Needless to say, this is another conspiracy—and it's very likely aimed at her.

But just because she's used to it doesn't mean Hermione has to comply with such arrangements. She has absolutely no desire to participate in that tournament, and she doesn't have much time left to read anyway.

"Hermione, you must participate." Fleur blinked her beautiful green eyes. "The Goblet of Fire has uttered your name, which means it has entered into a magical contract with you. If you don't fulfill this contract, terrible things may happen."

“But I didn’t put my name in the Goblet of Fire, and I haven’t even been in the castle all day,” Hermione said, frowning. “And I’m not even seventeen yet.”

"The age limit was only added this year," Fleur explained. "The Goblet of Fire didn't have this restriction at first, which is why there were so many injuries and deaths in previous competitions. Someone must have put your name in the Goblet of Fire. They cast a powerful confusion spell, making the Goblet of Fire think that there were five schools participating in the competition, and you were the only participant from the fifth school, so it was bound to put your name in."

"This is a conspiracy," Hermione said in a low voice. "Someone wants me to participate in the competition?"

"But why is that?"

She was just an ordinary little wizard. Why would anyone want to tamper with her?

"I'm just an ordinary little wizard."

"Normal?" Mr. Ludo Bagman from the Department of Physical Education rubbed his smooth chin, walked over with a smile, and looked down at Hermione.

"Miss Granger, I must tell you honestly. In the rest of the world, you are almost as famous as Dumbledore. Everyone says you are his successor. You are his favorite student, the second rising star in the world of wizarding."

"."

For some reason, the moment Mr. Ludo Bagman said she was Dumbledore's favorite student, a strange look swept over her.

Then, an instinct etched into her DNA compelled her to immediately open her mouth and say, "I'm not, I didn't. Owen is Professor Dumbledore's favorite student."

"puff!"

Hermione had barely finished speaking.

A short, sharp, mocking laugh suddenly came from a corner of the small room.

"Oh! Sorry."

Koyatl, who was looking at the portraits, turned around, one hand hanging naturally at her sides, the other covering her mouth.

"I think I heard a joke."

"What do you mean!" Furong stepped forward first, staring at the woman with disgust. The woman with similar silver hair to hers was truly repulsive.

Especially that slightly mocking expression on her face, it just made people want to punch her.

Hermione's abilities are beyond question.

"Hibiscus," Granger called to her, "Ignore her."

Then he turned to Mr. Ludo Bagman, "Doesn't the Ministry of Magic have a way to break the Goblet of Fire contract? Hasn't it always been kept by the Ministry?"

"It's just for preservation," Ludo Bagman explained slowly. "No one knows for sure who made it. One theory is that it might be Merlin's creation, who made the Goblet of Fire based on the legendary Holy Grail."

"The Holy Grail?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. The name sounded familiar. She was certain that the Holy Grail in the magical world was not the same as the one in religious tradition.

"A powerful source of magic that allows wizards to form contracts with powerful magical creatures. I've heard that a war called the Holy Grail War once broke out there. But all of that has faded into history," Ludo Bagman continued. "What I mean is that this magical contract has been passed down for a long time, and currently, the magical world has no way to break it. Perhaps destroying the Goblet of Fire would be possible, but that would be absolutely forbidden."

"Mr. Ludo Bagman is right." At this point, the group of professors and principals finally managed to reach a consensus.

"Miss Granger, you must participate, no matter what," Dumbledore said softly as he approached.

"But--"

"Or are you not confident that you can win the championship trophy for Hogwarts?" Old Deng smiled slightly.

"Of course I'm confident, Professor."

"That's enough." The old headmaster looked at Mr. Ludo Bagman. "Now, let's have Minister for Magic Crouch guide our heroes!"

"Okay." Barty Crouch stepped out of the shadows behind Dumbledore.

His face was extremely unpleasant, as were Ms. Maxim and Professor Euryale.

Crouch waved for the other young wizards to come closer.

Then he spoke in a serious, monotone tone.

"The first project will be carried out on November 24th, and will be completed in front of other students and the judging panel."

While completing the competition, warriors may not ask for or accept any help from their teachers. When facing the first challenge, the warrior's only weapon is their own wand. You will learn about the second challenge only after the first is completed. Due to the high demands and long duration of the competition, warriors will not participate in the academic year exams.

Having said that, he turned to look at Dumbledore and said stiffly, "I think that's all, Albus?"

“Yes,” Dumbledore said, “thank you, Mr. Crouch, for your excellent explanation.”

"Hmph!" came a soft snort from Krach in response.

Then, once the matter was settled, he turned and left the small room with Mr. Ludo Bagman.

Judging from his appearance, he should be heading back to his department.

The atmosphere in the room grew even more somber after Buddy Krach left.

Dumbledore watched his figure, his emotions surging like waves behind his half-moon spectacles. In his memory, Barty Crackle in his student days was a serious and self-disciplined child.

Although he hailed from Slytherin, he wasn't as enthusiastic about pure-blood as the Death Eaters. While he also craved power, he was ultimately a just man.

But now—times have changed, and he, like Fudge, has become a slave to power.

They are so cold-blooded it's frightening.

(End of this chapter)