I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 282 Miss Granger, please...please go out with me.

Miss Granger's cool voice echoed throughout the venue.

Before her eyes, the shooting star seemed to be afraid of the heavy rain, while she ignored the metal's struggle.

He turned around, pointing his wand at the Tyrannosaurus Rex on the pyramid.

A colossal dragon, dozens of feet tall and blotting out the sky, with azure eyes filled with ferocity.

Its diamond-like body shimmered with crimson lightning.

One cut after another, like a knife slicing through the pyramid, leaving marks once again on the ground that had been wounded and healed countless times.

Lightning, thunder, and the starry sky appeared simultaneously on the field.

What kind of scene is this?

It is indescribable, like Ragnarok in the Age of Gods.

Before the young wizards could even gasp, Bakal's back shone even brighter—the result of lightning magic reaching its peak. Everyone held their breath, their eyes wide, afraid of missing a thing.

Then, the dragon suddenly stood upright on its legs, raised its two forearms high, and spread its arms behind its back like a shield.

A massive lightning blade clearly appeared in its hand.

The next moment, the dragon's wings flapped, and it seemed to merge with lightning as it struck straight at Hermione.

The little witch proceeded slowly, her wand suddenly glowing a deep blue.

"Sanchez's Force Field!"

The red lightning might touch the pale blue protective shield—or it might not touch it at all.

The menacing electric knife seemed to deflate, suddenly shrinking until it disappeared.

Even Bakal's enormous dragon body shrank continuously after passing Hermione, eventually returning to the size of half a dragon egg.

Its head snapped to the side and it fell to the ground, its tongue lolling out and its limbs sprawled out.

It scratched its back with its front paws.

Ah!

I'm dead!

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 sudden turn of events left Hermione bewildered. She watched warily, but after several minutes, Bakal made no move.

Those dragon eyes would open from time to time, glance at her, and then quickly close again.

This left Miss Granger completely bewildered.

What happened?

Unaware that there were no conspiracies or schemes around her, Miss Granger gripped her wand and turned to run into the ruins of the pyramid in search of the dragon egg.

She soon found the dragon egg, gleaming with golden light, under the rubble.

She quickly picked him up.

The moment she held the dragon egg in her arms, Bakal, who had been lying stiffly on the ground, suddenly flapped his wings and flew up again as if nothing had happened.

Its wings flapped, and its head kept glancing in the direction of Owen.

Master—I've completed your mission!!!

Hehe—don't let Sirocco's constant complaints about me being stupid fool you; most of the time, I'm incredibly smart.

Bakal's superb acting skills left the young wizards in the stands speechless.

But no one dared to say anything.

Because the previous battles have already proven Miss Granger's strength.

Besides, what if that azure force field contains some kind of magic they don't know about?

Making rash questions will only make you look foolish.

And on the pyramid, Irving reappeared.

Actor Bakal buried his head in his arms, tilting his head up as if waiting for praise.

Master, aren't I clever?

I immediately understood your good intentions!

"Heh—" He rubbed Bakal's head.

Owen announced loudly, "The match is over! Hermione Granger, the champion of Hogwarts, has successfully completed the challenge!"

The next moment, the cheers from the young wizards in the audience were deafening.

"Brilliant—absolutely brilliant!" On the platform, Mr. Bagman rose and said with a complex voice, "I see the future!"

"It is the future of magic."

"We're getting old!"

He reminisced, mourned, and felt bitter, as if his vitality had vanished.

Gazing at that beautiful figure on the field, a strong feeling of dying on the beach welled up from the bottom of my heart.

"Miss Hermione Granger, you truly deserve the name of Gryffindor!"

Your courage, your magic, and the longsword in your hand all prove that you are the true heir to Gryffindor!

After saying that, he sat down somewhat dejectedly.

Meanwhile, thunderous cheers continued to erupt from the stands.

"Hoo-hoo—" Professor McGonagall, who was sitting on the same stage with him, couldn't stop smiling. She covered her mouth, her eyes almost overflowing with joy.

The other principals, however, frowned deeply.

Professor Euryale Hicks, in particular, kept glancing back and forth between Hermione and Koyatl, who had returned to the Ivermony stands.

A question arose in her mind.

Could it be that the girl named Granger is also an inheritor of ancient magic?

As for the others, Dumbledore remained calm, having witnessed Owen teaching Hermione magic.

As for Grindelwald, he was surprised, but that was about it.

However, what interested him more was not Hermione's magic, but the relationship between him and Owen.

As for Sirius, although he tried to hold back, remembering the principle that it was no surprise what anyone associated with Owen would do—hermien was just too dazzling.

She's a bit too good.

Our senior Newt was speechless with shock from the start of Cedric's match.

The appearance of the young wizards later convinced him that Hogwarts was no longer the Hogwarts of the past.

Back when they were in school, they used mischievous spells like the Bat-Spirit Curse to fight each other. Look at Hogwarts now!

Why are you waving your wand if you're not going to unleash a "disarming weapon"?

You're not some baboon wielding a magic wand, are you?

A few minutes later—the dozen or so judges discussed the matter, and Hermione's score was announced.

9:09!

"Oh! Hermione is number one! Haha, I knew it, she could definitely do it!" The young wizards in the Gryffindor stands shouted wildly.

Ron was so overjoyed that he was speechless.

"I'm more interested in the spells she used!" Harry's eyes lit up. "Owen must have taught them to us. Do you think he'd teach us if we paid him?"

"Yes!" the twins said in unison, "As long as you pay the right amount, he'll sell himself to you!"

The crowd cheered, and a dozen minutes later, the warriors gathered in the cabin once again.

This time, however, unlike the events of the past few hours, a protagonist has vaguely emerged among the five.

Then Mr. Ludo Bagman had a few words to say to everyone.

"Warriors, you've all done a great job," he said with a smile. "Alright, I only have a few words to say. The second project will officially begin at 9:30 a.m. on Sunday, February 12th next year."

Before this, you can rest for a long time, but be aware that the second match has actually begun from this moment.

The mystery of the castle awaits your discovery.

Looking down at the golden eggs in your hands, did you notice? See the seam there? You must solve the clues provided inside the eggs; they will tell you the entrance puzzle for the second project. All right? Alright, you can go now.

The group left the tent.

As soon as Hermione stepped outside, she saw a large group of young wizards from Hogwarts surrounding her.

Ron Harry and his group squeezed through the crowd.

"You look beautiful today," Harry said. "What's this fabric? It looks so smooth. If I may—"

"Enough, Harry!" the twins shoved him aside. "You need to know that Ravenclaw girl's size before you give her clothes!"

"I—" Harry was speechless for a moment. He couldn't bring himself to ask these questions—how could he possibly bring it up!

"At this point, you need eyes that are as sharp as a ruler!" A voice suddenly came from behind them. It was Owen, grinning, with the Hufflepuff wizards following behind him. "I can tell her size at a glance."

Hearing this, Miss Granger glared at him.

She raised the Gryffindor sword in her hand.

It's very sharp.

"Congratulations!" He walked over.

"Heh—I just asked Fleur, and she said the puppets were noticeably stronger when I was clearing the dungeons. Do you know why?" Hermione said in a dangerous tone, her eyes narrowed as she held the golden egg.

"Oh! How should I know? Dumbledore was in charge of the competition; I was just a tool."

"Sanchez!" Hermione shouted angrily, "I've seen those puppets in the ruins too!"

"."

Seeing that he couldn't hide it any longer, Owen had no choice but to speak frankly, "Ordinary puppets have no combat power whatsoever. For someone who has studied magic for so long, this is simply an insult. Wasn't I just creating a stage for you to unleash your full power of magic?"

"Or perhaps," he suddenly leaned closer, "Miss Granger, do you think something might happen under my watchful eye?"

"You," Hermione gritted her teeth, she had never seen anyone describe shamelessness in such a refreshing and elegant way.

Why do I like this bastard?

Then she fell silent, clutching the sleeves of her robe, feeling very wronged.

Just as she was getting into character, Owen spoke up again, "By the way, can you dance?"

"Huh?" Miss Granger, who was brewing a wronged expression, looked up blankly. "You'll need it in a while."

Owen smiled as he said, having the little witch completely under his control.

I'm afraid I'll burst into tears! I'll just have to change the subject.

The group walked side by side toward the castle.

They chatted non-stop the whole way. The conversation focused on the performance of each warrior.

It was only then that Hermione learned how her previous champions had passed the test.

Just as they were passing through the outer edge of the Forbidden Forest, a witch suddenly jumped out from behind the bushes—it was Rita Skeeter.

She was wearing a bright green robe today, and the color of the stenographer in her hand matched the robe perfectly.

"Hermione, your magic is truly amazing." Rita Skeeter smiled at Miss Granger, calling her by her first name as if they were old friends. "Can you tell me how you learned so much magic? Did Dumbledore teach you? Is it dark magic?"

She ignored everyone else, even Harry.

All attention was focused on Hermione.

"No comment!" Hermione said coldly.

"No comment?" Rita Skeeter's lips tightened. "Is it 'no comment,' or is there something you're having trouble saying?"

"Stay away from Hermione, you're just a blabbermouth." Most of Hermione's companions looked at Rita Skeeter with disgust, as if she were a bug.

"Get out of my way! Or I'll throw you to feed the dragons!" Ron looked at her with disdain. Others might not know, but the three of them—Harry, him, Hermione, and Bakal—had a very good relationship.

They were quite familiar with each other because they frequented Hagrid's cabin.

He really did manage to get Bakal to teach this ugly woman a lesson.

"Really?" Rita Skeeter was completely unfazed by Ron's words, instead becoming extremely excited. "Are you threatening me? What are you planning to do to innocent reporters to cover up the truth?"

"I think you're just asking for trouble—" Owen walked over, ready to give this guy a little Hogwarts shock.

But as soon as he took his first step, his arm was grabbed by the girl behind him.

"Ignore her." Hermione frowned and pulled Owen away.

Turning around, the group walked towards the castle.

Rita Skeeter stood by the bushes, watching his retreating figure. Her quill pen was drawing excitedly, and a subtle expression appeared on her face. Her eyes lit up, making it easy to imagine that she was preparing some kind of conspiracy.

Inside the castle, everyone parted ways in front of the hall.

Owen and the Hufflepuff wizards returned to the cellar.

Beneath the wooden fireplace mantle, beneath a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff—she is now raising a small, two-handled gold cup to greet her students.

The round table was covered with all sorts of food, as well as a cake for celebration.

Ernie brought over a bunch of fireworks.

Justin, on the other hand, hung up a number of eye-catching new banners.

The image above shows Cedric holding up the golden egg.

The huge banner kept changing, sometimes showing him riding a Thestral, sometimes showing him tumbling inside a puppet.

Under the banner, the Hufflepuffs were celebrating, laughing and eating delicious food.

Everyone came to speak to Cedric, shake his hand, and congratulate him.

"Oh! It's really heavy." Justin picked up the golden egg from the table and weighed it in his hand. "It can't really be pure gold, can it?"

"Maybe so." Ernie excitedly snatched the golden egg from Justin's hand.

"Hey! Let me touch you a little longer!" Justin yelled, then chased after him.

"That's enough, you two," Susan quickly stopped them.

He then returned it to Cedric, saying, "This is yours; you should open it."

"Yes, quickly open it and see what's inside," the others echoed.

Cedric was also very excited; his injuries had healed, and Madam Pomfrey's special medicine was quite effective.

"Okay!" he said readily.

Then, taking the golden egg, I used my right fingers to pry it open little by little along the groove around its edge.

"This is?"

Nothing happened the instant the golden egg was opened.

There were no strange noises, no dazzling special effects; inside the golden egg lay a locket, peaceful and serene.

It was a silver pendant box with a large yellow gemstone set on the front, various patterns below the gemstone, and a dark blue python-shaped pendant box at the center.

"this?"

Cedric frowned, looking somewhat bewildered at the locket in his hand.

This thing seems to be something that only circulates in Slytherin House.

"What is this? A locket?" The young wizards around him stared blankly at the snake-shaped locket.

"Oh!" A surprised voice suddenly rang out.

Everyone turned to look and saw that it was a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff that had been sent.

The founder looked at the locket in Cedric's hand with great surprise.

His expression gradually changed from surprise to a kind of reminiscence.

"Madam, do you recognize it?" Upon seeing this, Cedric quickly asked.

“Yes, child, I recognize it.” Helga looked at them gently. “But I can’t tell you what it is. It’s part of the competition, isn’t it?”

"This—" Upon hearing this, Cedric had no choice but to withdraw his gaze.

And all of this was observed by Irving.

Owen had asked Helga Hufflepuff about the Weasleys' treasure, but while Dean Bridged said the level design followed the spirit of Hufflepuff, she didn't know the specifics.

However, he didn't care. After all, it was just a portrait. If even a portrait could be omniscient and omnipotent, that would be too incredible.

"Hey, what's up?" The brief moment of confusion didn't dampen the enthusiasm of the young wizards, and they quickly resumed their celebration.

As for the locket, we'll talk about it tomorrow; there's no rush.

Hannah stood out from the crowd.

She sat on the sofa, clinking glasses with Jarvis and the others while drinking juice, but her dazed look clearly showed that she was preoccupied.

Owen leaned closer and asked, "You don't seem very interested."

"It's nothing." Hannah glanced at Owen, then looked down at the silver glass in her hand. The orange juice reflected her melancholy expression.

"Still saying you're fine?" Owen reached out and waved his hand over her silver glass. In an instant, the orange juice disappeared, turning into a pale lake color. "Try it. My new creation. I've named it: The Tower."

Seeing this, Hannah gently picked up the glass and took a sip.

Her first taste was sweet, exceptionally sweet, like honey mixed with white sugar and cane sugar. As the sweetness gradually turned bitter, her mouth suddenly turned sour, a faint sweet and sour, followed by a bitterness. But after she couldn't help but swallow, a refreshing fragrance immediately burst in her mouth, like a cup of fragrant tea flowing between her lips and teeth.

"Wow! Hannah, it's on your head." Justin turned his head in surprise.

At this moment, tender rosebuds began to grow from her hair.

The roses in the clear blue sky are mysterious and lonely.

"There aren't many types of flowers; it's still in the beta testing phase!" Owen laughed, taking the flower from her hair and handing it to her.

"Owen—" Suddenly, Hannah's eyes reddened, her face calm, and her brown eyes holding a resolute gaze, she looked directly at Owen. "Can you teach me those spells?"

She said, "Like the ones Granger used."

"Sure!" Owen agreed without hesitation. "I won't charge you, how about it!"

"But I'm afraid—" she said, biting her lip, trying to be strong, "but I'm afraid I won't be able to learn it."

"How do you know you can't learn it if you haven't tried? Okay—it is a little bit difficult, but if you learn slowly, you'll eventually learn it."

Owen was quite frank in saying that Hannah's talent for spells was indeed not very good. Her talent in herbalism—well—of course, it wasn't particularly outstanding either. It was just that it was the subject she was best at among all the disciplines.

Perhaps we could let Hannah try her luck in the underground chamber?

Let's see which past wizard she can gain the approval of.

"I'll teach you myself—I can teach someone like Justin!"

"Hey!" Justin said unhappily, "What do you mean? Are you indirectly saying I'm stupid?"

"Isn't that right?" Owen turned his head away and rolled his eyes at him. "My only expectation of you, Dad, is that you know to take shelter from the rain."

"Do you have some other improper thoughts?"

"Young people shouldn't be overly ambitious, understand?"

"What do you mean by 'aiming too high'? My grades are fourth in Hufflepuff in fourth grade!" Justin said righteously.

"So what? You're fourth in the Hufflepuff trio? What's there to be proud of?" Owen glared at him. "Aren't you ashamed?"

"I--"

Justin fell silent, as if—perhaps—what Irving said did make some sense.

Seeing Justin's expression of being severely manipulated by Irving, everyone at the banquet smiled knowingly.

At this moment, Hannah slowly stood up, looking somewhat absent-minded, and said to Owen, "I feel a little tired."

She looked toward the round doors made of highly polished honey-colored wood, which led to the boys' and girls' dormitories respectively.

"Owen." She suddenly stopped in front of the round door.

"What was the first spell you taught me?" she asked.

"." Uh—what kind of question is this? Owen was completely baffled. Who would remember this? He had summoned at least several hundred junior wizards, and four years had passed.

"I think it was—the Barrier Charm!" she answered to herself, seemingly never intending to get the answer from Owen in the first place. "I remember I studied it for several weeks but was still not proficient, and I even embarrassed myself in Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

"The Obstacle Charm—" she murmured to herself, turning and pushing open the door, "Perhaps it was all destined from the beginning."

He then left the common lounge.

With Hannah's departure, the banquet seemed to have come to an end.

They were tired after playing all afternoon.

The lounge gradually returned to silence; it was already late at night.

After a day of releasing energy, it's time to recharge.

Irving woke up early the next morning amidst the noise.

He parted the green shoots that were brushing against his hair and slowly opened his eyes.

He used this magical plant as an alarm clock, but its only drawback seemed to be that it couldn't distinguish between weekends and weekdays.

Every morning, I would nudge his head with a branch.

After a quick wash, he stepped out of the room.

"Are you still celebrating?"

The decorations in the common lounge were not removed; in fact, some were added.

"We're getting ready to celebrate for a week!" Justin said cheerfully.

The other young wizards nodded as well.

This is an unprecedented victory, comparable to winning the Quidditch Cup. (The Hufflepuffs haven't won the Quidditch Cup in many years.)

It's understandable that the celebration lasts a while.

Irving knew that Gryffindor celebrated for three or four days every year when they won the Quidditch Cup.

"Then you guys can celebrate all you want!" Irving turned and walked out of the lounge, pushing open the door of the wooden barrel along the crooked wooden path.

I'm going to eat now, you guys have fun.

Today is the weekend, and also the first day after the competition ended. The entrance was very lively, with people bustling into the auditorium, chatting and laughing, creating quite a commotion.

On this peaceful and vibrant morning, just as Irving stepped into the auditorium...

Suddenly, a voice that sounded like a shrew's roar came from inside the auditorium.

"Gregor, please...please go out with me!"

(End of this chapter)