I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 294 The Stunning Girls (Bonus chapter for 200 monthly votes, that's all I can do)

Irving worked all day.

Even though it's a holiday, he's busier than when he's in class.

Harry, Justin, and Ernie, carefree, ran outside to have a snowball fight.

The snow was white and almost untouched, except for a deep footprint left by three young wizards from the school on their way back to the castle.

The group didn't return to the castle until around 5 p.m.

By this time, with the help of several professors, he had finished decorating the entire main building where the auditorium was located.

The corridors were decorated with crystal chandeliers, sparkling as if they were in a fairyland.

From the spiral staircase to the corridor on the other side leading to other towers, singing morning glories climb all over the ceiling.

Each of them played a different song, from waltzes to Hedway Variations. Irving racked his brains, and he had a premonition that if he continued to sift through his memories, he would definitely become demented.

To avenge this unjust fate, Owen, on the other hand, hung several trumpet flowers at the entrance to the principal's office on the third floor and at the entrance to Snape's office in the dungeon, choosing the tune—"Lily's Theme"—dedicated to the two professors.

Owen wondered what the two professors thought as they stood alone in the gray fog of Hogwarts, watching the pairs of young wizards gather in the Great Hall.

But just like that melancholic melody, it's unlikely to bring any joy.

"Hey! Owen!" Harry and a group of young wizards, having just finished their snowball fight, were standing outside the door stamping their feet.

They were covered in snowflakes, their feet were soaking wet, while the doorway floor was spotless, as if it had been waxed. Under Owen's almost murderous glare, the group of young wizards reluctantly began to shake off the mud from their bodies.

Irving finally understood Filch's anger.

However, unlike Filch's helplessness, which could only result in deducting points and roaring, he was more direct—damn it—he simply waved his wand and threw the person out.

A gentle breeze swept through Harry and his friends, instantly carrying away all the stains.

"If you don't want to use a magic wand, I suggest you go to a sports school!" he said viciously.

The young wizards, like children who had done something wrong, lowered their heads and quickly disappeared into the Great Hall.

After getting everything sorted out, Irving went back to his dorm.

He took a shower and started changing into his formal attire.

Around 7 p.m., as darkness fell, the young wizards began to make their way to the Great Hall.

Most of them are boys, after all, they're girls! It's normal to spend several hours getting ready.

Owen was the first to leave his dormitory. Professor Sprout asked him to take the music of the song sung by the morning glory to Professor Flitwick. The professor said that Professor Flitwick thought the music was very good and planned to add a few songs to the ball.

As Owen stepped out of the oak door, he ran into the Slytherin group.

A group of Slytherin students came up the steps from their underground common room. Leading the way was Malfoy, dressed in a black velvet high-necked formal robe, looking every bit like a parish priest. Pansy Parkinson, in a pale pink robe with ruffles, clung tightly to Malfoy's arm.

Crabbe and Goyle were both dressed in green, like two large green rocks. It was clear that neither of them had found a dance partner.

After all, Slytherins can only find dance partners from their own house, and girls and boys from other houses are not willing to go with them, which means that many of them will not be able to find dance partners.

As they saw Irving approaching, they automatically made way for him, and then a certain school bully walked past them with his head held high like a proud swan.

After giving the sheet music to Professor Flitwick, Irving leaned against the top of the spiral staircase, waiting for his dance partner.

"I never realized I was this handsome!"

Before long, the voice of a certain public enemy of male young wizards at Hogwarts came from behind him.

"That's enough, Ron, this is the seventh time you've said that." Harry said seemingly calmly, but the smile on his face betrayed his ecstatic joy.

"Oh, okay!" Ron put his hands in his pockets, leaned slightly forward, and struck a pose typical of a playboy flirting with girls. "Harry, you look incredibly handsome too."

"I know! I know!" Wearing rimless, diamond-shaped glasses, Harry's green eyes were slightly lowered. He wore a sky-blue robe with a gray bow tie tied in a Windsor knot around his neck, and brown leather shoes. A dark blue robe covered his entire body, concealing his restless and uneasy nature. While making him stand out, one had to admit that if Harry Potter had entered Slytherin House, he would definitely have become a noble young master.

As for Ron, he wore a deep red robe that was both understated and unrestrained, and his long red hair, which covered his ears, was tied in a small braid at the back of his head, with only a few stray strands of hair left on his forehead.

The red and blue combination looks especially strong when standing next to Harry.

"Where's Owen?" Harry asked, puzzled.

The gowns they were wearing were a gift from Irving last semester.

He had said at the time that he was sure he would be able to use it.

Ron is now incredibly grateful to Irving, because it was this expensive-looking gown that allowed him to confidently put away the old-fashioned robe his mother had given him during the summer holidays.

"He should be here. I hope he doesn't have to put on makeup like a girl!" Ron smiled, tilting his head back slightly, his wisps of hair fluttering across his forehead, making him look incredibly handsome.

Ron is actually quite good-looking. Although he's not quite as handsome as Cedric, he's still pretty good-looking. It's just that he's too sloppy and never dresses up, so no one has noticed that he has a handsome face.

"Where is Dad?" Owen's voice suddenly came from the shadows at the corner of the spiral staircase.

"Dad is everywhere!"

Harry and Ron quickly turned around and saw Owen's face emerge from the shadows, glaring at them with a gloomy expression!

"Oh my god!" Ron was startled and hurriedly hid behind Harry.

Harry, on the other hand, was a little embarrassed.

"You're here!" Harry rubbed his head and said, trying to sound calm.

"We can't go into the auditorium yet," Owen said, pointing towards the entrance.

Harry quickly peeked out and, sure enough, saw Professor McGonagall, dressed in a long red plaid robe with an unsightly thistle wreath adorning her hat brim, preventing all the young wizards from entering the Great Hall.

"Once the young wizards are all seated, they will line up and walk into the Great Hall," she said.

"Looks like we'll have to wait a bit longer," Harry said.

Then he and Irving stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs.

However, this atmosphere did not last long, and soon the girls came down from upstairs one after another.

The noise in the common room suddenly stopped, and the young wizards in the hall all looked up at the girl who had just come out.

Angelina was the first to appear, smiling as she linked arms with Fred. The two walked away hand in hand, Fred even giving them a playful wink.

Behind Angelina was Luna, bathed in soft light, her gown resembling an unfolding scroll.

"Oh my God!"

"She's so beautiful!"

But some of the young wizards didn't realize that Luna was also a beautiful girl, even Harry Potter.

Especially this year, after she was "bewitched" by Professor Trelawney, she talks about fate and divination all the time, which makes her seem even stranger.

Owen wasn't too happy when he recommended Luna to Harry.

But today, she is different. Stripped of her strange adornments, her long, gritty blonde hair is neatly braided. And with that ever-present look of surprise no longer etched on her face, no one would think she isn't beautiful.

Luna's gown was also a gift from Irving.

Last year, he put a lot of thought into how to showcase Luna's charm.

So Irving chose silk, a silk as smooth as flowing water, as if water were flowing through her fingertips. The streamlined cut made her figure even more elegant, perfectly emphasizing her slender waistline and the barely visible collarbone.

The gown was a delicate cherry blossom pink, like cherry blossoms fluttering in the wind in early spring. Exquisite lace embellishments on the skirt resembled blooming cherry blossoms, exuding a subtle poetic charm.

Delicate silver lines meander along the hem of the skirt, shimmering like a stream under the moonlight.

The teardrop-shaped necklace rested gently on her neck, like morning dew on a flower petal, highlighting her clear skin.

Seeing such a beautiful girl would be enough to make many Ravenclaw boys beat their chests in envy.

Harry's eyes lit up.

He never imagined Luna would be so beautiful.

This was quite different from her usual attire.

At that moment, she was like a fairy who had not descended to the mortal world.

"Hi! Harry." Luna's voice was still unique, that singing-like tone was one of a kind only found at Hogwarts. "Oh! Owen."

She turned to look at Owen, "I was going to wear my bunny headband."

"Then why didn't you wear it?" Irving replied with a smile.

"It's gone," Luna said. "I guess the Curved-Horned Snoring Beast must have stolen it."

"What?" Harry frowned and asked, puzzled.

"Curved-horned snores!" Luna added, "Curved-horned snores are shy, friendly creatures that dislike light and heat and prefer cool, damp places—such as swamps, dense forests, and caves. They may also be adept at using magic to perform rapid, apparition-like teleportations, making them always difficult to detect."

"Oh! Really? That's a shame." Harry replied blankly, genuinely believing that such creatures existed in the wizarding world.

"There's nothing to regret." Luna gripped her skirt with both hands, her ethereal voice ringing out, "The thing won't be lost; it just arrived at its destination before me."

"Looks like I need to pick up the pace and catch up with it."

"Have a pleasant journey." Owen smiled and nodded.

"Thank you!" she said softly, like dew falling on a lotus leaf.

Then, Owen gently nudged Harry, and the guy finally realized what he was supposed to do. He frantically reached out his hand, like a shy little boy—well, he really was a shy little boy.

Luna gently took his arm.

They skipped and hopped along with Harry toward the gate.

"Crack~~~" Owen seemed to hear the sound of teeth breaking. Oh! He turned his head and looked at some Ravenclaw wizards in front of the oak gate.

Those burning eyes of his were practically ready to devour Harry.

"Hmph—" He originally intended to steal the Ravenclaw tiara from the headmaster's office and put it on Luna. If Dumbledore hadn't happened to see it, my Luna would have been even prettier!

"A bunch of idiots!" Owen glanced disdainfully at the male wizards below the gate.

Joining Ravenclaw doesn't mean you've truly gained wisdom. Just like most of the people in Slytherin are all talk and no action, how could Salazar Slytherin possibly think highly of people like Gawain or Clark? Even someone like Malfoy wouldn't be qualified to join Slytherin.

Salazar's ideal Slytherin should be someone like Professor Horace Slughorn, not some simple-minded, muscle-bound bunch.

Of the four houses, Hufflepuff needs no introduction, and Gryffindor all meet Godric's selection criteria—a bunch of brutes, after all!

However, it cannot be said that the Ravenclaws are all overrated. After all, if Rowena Ravenclaw really followed her selection criteria and only taught the smartest and most intelligent young wizards, she probably wouldn't be able to recruit a single student for decades.

After all—how much intelligence could an eleven-year-old wizard really possess?

After Luna, the auditorium was quiet for a while.

But it only lasted a short while.

Because soon more girls came down the stairs.

They were either in pairs or waving excitedly at the top of the stairs.

Jaspers and Susan, Ernie and a Ravenclaw witch.

Four people walked past Irving.

Justin had put something on his head, making it shiny and greasy. He combed all his hair back into a slicked-back style, haha—quite an adult hairstyle indeed.

A while later, someone suddenly exclaimed from the top of the spiral staircase.

Everyone then turned their attention to that.

It's Hannah.

As a gift from Irving, Hannah's dress was naturally luxurious, made of delicate, creamy-yellow pineapple fiber silk. Her shoulders were bare, white as jade, echoing the light-colored gown.

The skirt is light blue, embroidered with flowers of various magical plants.

The gown's fitted design accentuated her figure, making her look elegant and graceful.

Hannah wore a faint smile, radiating a gentle maternal glow. Her eyes held a unique firmness, a quality rarely seen in her usual introverted nature.

Her brown hair was styled into a high bun on top of her head, with a few strands falling gently in front of her forehead, exuding an effortless elegance. Her earrings swayed gently under the light, like sparkling fireworks.

She looked absolutely stunning. The gloom of the past few months had dissipated from her, and she seemed like a jewel that had been covered in dust, shining brightly once more.

Yes, she let go.

After realizing the seemingly insurmountable gap between herself and Owen on the path of magic, the girl let go.

He was never meant to be mine; it was better to let go than to struggle to stay together.

Owen watched her with a smile, and after she came down the stairs, he said gently, "You look much more relaxed."

And standing beside Hannah was, unexpectedly, the Gryffindor Sword Saint.

"Mmm!" she responded softly, her tone as gentle as ever.

"Have fun," he said.

"I will."

She and Neville walked down the stairs.

"I have a feeling that you deliberately sent us so many robes." At this moment, Ron, who was next to him, seemed to have figured something out.

Those who are close to Irving almost all have a beautiful or stylishly extravagant gown.

"Oh! You noticed?" Owen blinked. "How does it feel to stand out from the crowd?"

"Very good—" From the very beginning, quite a few little witches had cast their gazes at him, which made Ron straighten his back even more.

Owen's lips curled into a slight smile. "This is called increasing user awareness. Do you think being the leader is so easy? When you're all dressed to the nines, others will naturally be envious. But when they find out that those gowns were made by me, that envy will immediately shift to me. Doesn't that indirectly increase my prestige in the castle?"

"Is there any need to increase your prestige?" Ron asked, puzzled. Owen was practically the only one who could do anything in the castle; his words carried more weight than the professor's. What more did he want?

Surely they don't really want to oust Dumbledore and become the headmaster themselves!

As he thought about it, he couldn't help but sense a hint of danger, and then, very decisively, Ron quickly put some distance between himself and Owen.

Everyone in the castle knew about his close relationship with the headmaster. If Headmaster Dumbledore found out that he was secretly plotting against him, Ron guessed he would at most scold him a few times, but his accomplices would be in big trouble—they might be expelled!

"(ˉ▽￣～) Tch~~" Owen rolled his eyes at Ron. Those who achieve great things can avoid taking risks?

If my buddy raises his arms and the rebellion succeeds, you'll be credited with helping the dragon rise to power. If you fail, you'll just get expelled at most. Is there a better deal in the world?

Just as he was about to reveal a little bit of his rebellion plan to Ron and try to trick him into being the vanguard.

Suddenly, the surrounding noise abruptly stopped, as if falling into absolute silence.

All I could hear was the sound of Hedwig's Variations.

Everyone held their breath and looked up at the girl who had just come out.

Many people stared in astonishment, mouths agape, unsure of what to say.

"Oh my God!"

"Merlin's beard!!!"

"She's so beautiful!"

After a brief silence, a chorus of exclamations erupted from the depths of their hearts.

"That's—Hermione Granger?"

"She's like a fairy descended from heaven."

It's Hermione.

But she doesn't look like Hermione at all, not even in terms of her demeanor.

Perhaps it was simply because she had taken off the twenty-odd thick books she usually carried with her.

She wore a long, deep blue dress. The dress was embroidered with intricate silver embellishments, like shimmering stars. These silver embellishments would sparkle as Hermione turned, making it seem as if she were wearing the galaxy.

Hermione's hair had been carefully styled; it was no longer messy but smooth and shiny. Her brown hair was styled into an elegant updo, with a few shimmering star-shaped ribbons cleverly inlaid within, making her look even more beautiful and charming.

Her arms and ankles were adorned with more silver embellishments, which shimmered like flowing water under the pale white crystal chandelier overhead. The wide, elegant sleeves of her long dress fluttered gently, making Hermione look like a goddess from classical mythology.

Her snow-white legs were faintly visible beneath the hem of her skirt. The girl's thighs were taut and elastic, not voluptuous, but not overly thin either, instead displaying a youthful vitality and healthy beauty. Her calves were faintly illuminated by a layer of light from the crystal chandelier.

The gradient blue skirt moved lightly over her legs, like a clear spring flowing among pebbles.

She wore a pair of black high heels, her bare soles were delicate and smooth, exuding an indescribable tenderness.

Well, Owen certainly wouldn't give Miss Granger pointed high heels; those would be too tiring, especially since it would be her first time wearing them. What he gave her was actually a pair of flat shoes with a slightly raised heel, and the material wasn't the common dragon leather—that's too stiff. She definitely wouldn't find them comfortable. The actual material was cowhide leather with a soft beaver lining.

Hermione slowly walked down the stairs, step by step. She was a little nervous, her hands constantly tangling with the slit in her skirt. Although the slit only went up to her knees and not even to her thighs, she still seemed very shy.

She looked absolutely stunning; the only word to describe her was dazzling.

Her light steps were like those of a butterfly.

"Stop—stop looking!" Hermione walked over, staring nervously at Owen. "How is it? Doesn't it look weird?"

Hearing this, Owen struggled to pull his eyes away from her legs and looked up at her face.

Good heavens, he didn't even recognize the girl in front of him. She had drawn her eyebrows, applied eyeliner, and wore light red lipstick. Her makeup was cool and aloof, but the blush on her cheeks clashed with that coolness, creating a look that was both shy and aloof at the same time.

At this moment, his mind was somewhat blank, and his heart was pounding uncontrollably. All he wanted to do was immediately pull the girl in front of him into his arms. As for anything else, he could think about it after he had had his fill of holding her.

"You're in danger right now, Miss Granger." Taking a deep breath to suppress the agitation in his heart, Owen stared intently at her cheek and said, "Because I really want to kiss you right now."

Miss Granger's cheeks flushed instantly.

She didn't dare look Owen in the eye, only staring at her own feet, her mind blank, completely unsure of what to do.

At that moment, a pair of gentle hands grasped her nervous little hands, their fingers intertwined, and love welled up within them.

"I'm leaving," Owen whispered in her ear, "my precious daughter."

There are only seventeen stone steps from the stairwell to the auditorium, but the two walked as if on a red carpet stage.

It's only seventeen chapters, but it felt like an eternity.

They stood together with a strong sense of tacit understanding. Everyone felt that the two of them were a perfect match, a match made in heaven, as if it was meant to be.

After all, based on their abilities, they are the most suitable match at Hogwarts.

But there were still some young wizards whose expressions weren't quite natural.

In the foyer, many girls stared at Hermione with hatred and jealousy, while the boys looked on with admiration and amazement.

The lobby was packed with students.

But when they came, the space became empty again, because everyone took a step back and made room for them.

This scene was witnessed by Professor McGonagall, who was standing at the entrance of the Great Hall. Her lips twitched involuntarily. Had this child's prestige reached this level?

About five minutes later, the oak front door was opened, and everyone turned around to see a familiar figure leading a group of Durmstrang students in.

"Huh?" Irving glanced sideways. "Why the change of players?"

"I also want to see Grandpa and Grandma dance!"

"What grandmother?" Hermione asked, stretching her fair neck in confusion.

"It's Dumbledore. They've been a couple in the wizarding world for ages. When they broke up, it caused quite a stir."

Krum walked at the front, next to a Ravenclaw girl.

Over their heads, you can see that a lawn in front of the castle has been transformed into a cave, where twinkling fairy lights shimmer.

This means there are hundreds of living fairies, either sitting in a cluster of magically conjured roses or flapping their wings on statues that appear to be Santa Claus and his reindeer.

Krum spotted Owen immediately, and more importantly, Hermione beside him.

He stared intently at Hermione, his gaze unwavering, which made the little witch somewhat flustered. Hermione had no choice but to move aside, trying to use Owen to block his overly direct gaze.

"What are you looking at!" Owen frowned and narrowed his eyes, his tone clearly showing displeasure.

Hearing this voice, Krum reluctantly withdrew his gaze from Hermione, then gave a soft hum in response. Clearly, this was Grindelwald's order to avoid conflict with Owen.

Immediately afterwards, the students from Beauxbatons entered the room.

The beautiful French girl drew some of Hermione's attention away.

Leading the way were Fleur and her dance partner, Roger Davis. Fleur was exquisitely dressed, looking absolutely stunning. She was in no way inferior to Hermione's beauty; both were beautiful in their own way, like a painting come to life.

Hibiscus displayed her beauty fully before everyone, like a delicate and vibrant flower, radiating the most captivating brilliance. With the added advantage of her Veela bloodline, she easily became the focus of all male gazes; everyone who saw her was captivated and unable to extricate themselves.

Beside her, Davis still seemed unable to believe his good fortune in having Fleur as a dance partner; he simply couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Wow! You're so beautiful, Hermione." Fleur walked over enthusiastically.

The two equally beautiful girls chatted, and soon she learned from Hermione that the beautiful dress she was wearing was a gift from Owen.

"Your fashion sense is quite good!" Fleur looked up at Owen with a half-smile. "I thought you had lost the romance of us French people."

"I almost forgot," Owen said. "I received your Christmas present."

"Hmph—I should really send you a plate of Stargazing, so you can experience the pinnacle of British cuisine."

"Oh? I had no idea there were any British delicacies."

"That's because you're ignorant," Owen chuckled. "Although American history books and British cookbooks are touted as the two thinnest books in the world, that's actually a complete slander against the British Empire."

"We have dozens of ways to cook potatoes and more than a dozen ways to cook cod. These two ingredients alone can be combined to create more than twenty dishes. British cookbooks are anything but thin."

"Yeah?"

"Yes!" Owen assumed it was Hibiscus speaking.

The voice drew closer. "The story of the American wizards' struggle is a hymn to courage. I thought I'd only hear such slander from uneducated idiots. I never imagined Hogwarts would have such people."

It is Iphamoni.

It's Koyatl.

"I didn't see any hymns of courage, but there were definitely hymns of bloodshed. The Purifiers gave you a thumbs up! Oh! And the Indians too." Owen turned his head and spoke bluntly.

As Owen's voice rang out, the young wizards turned their gaze to the silver-haired girl.

Her gown was like a painting of the North American plains, with a rich maple red base that perfectly showcased her elegant collarbones and slender waistline.

As she walked step by step, the hem of her skirt swayed with her steps, reminiscent of maple leaves swaying in the autumn wind.

In the foyer, Ron's eyes were glued to the screen.

It is unclear whether it was a coincidence or someone did it intentionally.

Both of them were wearing red clothes.

Although the red ones are all different.

The girl simply stood there, her hair cascading down to her waist, yet she still outshone many of the elaborately dressed Hogwarts little witches.

"My God! She's so beautiful!"

Someone said something in front of the gate.

The next moment, everyone nodded in approval.

Yes—Koyatel is absolutely gorgeous.

At this moment, she even subtly surpassed Fleur, who possessed Veela blood, because her temperament was so unique. When she didn't speak, she was like a maple leaf in late autumn, brilliant and magnificent.

Ron was somewhat at a loss.

Although he felt good about himself, that confidence crumbled instantly when he saw Koyatl.

Completely at a loss, he only remembered what he should do after Harry came over and reminded him. He then hurriedly went over to invite his dance partner to the stage.

And so, amidst the envious or angry looks from the crowd, the two walked down the stairs one after the other.

"She has great taste in clothes too," Irving praised.

Hermione, standing beside him, looked at him strangely. What others didn't know was that she had already found out the origin of the dresses Owen had given them last semester.

All I can say is that he knows how to make good use of resources. If you pay the right amount of money, those ready-made dress shops can design any kind of beautiful dress.

All of their robes came from this source.

Including herself, Harry, Ron, Luna, Neville, Hannah, and so on, there are more than a dozen people.

Half the credit for the stunning spectacle at today's ball goes to Irving.

(End of this chapter)