I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 298 Poison in Honey

"Huh?" Owen turned to look at him. "It does look a bit like that, completely drained."

"Who's so bold as to attack a high-ranking official of the Ministry of Magic?" he then said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Not that kind of attack—" Percy said urgently, as he suddenly opened his left arm, and as his clothes were pulled up, a wound about two inches long was clearly visible.

"A knife wound?" Owen recognized the source of the wound at a glance.

Having frequently used the Divine Sword Without Shadow, he naturally knew what kind of weapon was needed to inflict such a wound.

In addition, the wound faintly emitted a red glow, as if Percy had implanted a light bulb in his arm. Moreover, although his wound had healed, it left a deep, sunken scar, as if someone had ripped out a piece of his flesh.

"this"

In fact, getting injured is very common in the magical world. Learning some spells even inevitably involves getting injured, such as the Apparition Charm. Therefore, the magical world has countless magical methods for healing physical injuries. Ordinary injuries can be healed simply by chanting the Quick Healing Charm.

Even serious injuries, such as broken arms or legs, can be easily healed with just one magic potion.

Judging from the size of the wound on Percy's arm, it was the kind of wound that could be healed with a wave of a wand.

If you see any obvious scars on a wizard, it's definitely the work of dark magic. Most of the scars on Moody's body are from this source.

Dark magic will remain on the injured person forever. If the blockage caused by the magic is not cleared, the wound will never heal. Percy was lucky; his wound has healed, but it left a permanent scar.

"What's going on?" Owen frowned, the teasing expression on his face gradually disappearing.

"I don't know," Percy said. "I'm missing a part of my memory. About two days."

"Anyway, when I came to my senses, my whole body ached as if I had been cursed with a groin-piercing spell, and I was extremely weak. It took about half a month before I could barely muster any energy. Look at me now." He pointed to himself, his dry and sallow face looking like he had been up for two weeks straight. "I didn't dare go home at all. Every time my mother wrote to ask me about it, I would make up an excuse that I was too busy at the ministry."

"Not a single clue?" Owen asked.

"Yes!" He stared wide-eyed at Owen, somewhat nervously. "I only have a vague recollection. The person who attacked me must have used a forgetting spell on me. I asked the department's therapists to try and restore my memory, but they failed. I had a splitting headache for a week because of it!"

Percy shrugged, trying to appear relaxed, but the involuntary twitching of his cheek muscles clearly showed that the pain he was enduring was anything but easy.

"But at least it brought back some images," he said. "I was attacked by a group of people who were wearing black robes, but they were all very short. That's all I remember."

"Very short?" Owen's eyelids twitched. "How short? Like an elf?"

"Yes," Percy continued, "I hadn't even considered the possibility of fairies or goblins, but a month after I was attacked, a goblin suddenly sent me a letter."

Instead of using an owl, it was delivered directly.

In the letter, it said it knew the truth about my attack, but it didn't go into details. It wanted to meet me in person to talk about it. The handwriting in the letter was very messy, and I could barely make out some of it. Moreover, I felt that the goblin seemed a little confused, and his thoughts were all over the place. In the end, it took me a lot of effort to decipher the words. It said that London was not safe and asked me to meet it in Hogsmeade.

But I waited for it in Hogsmeade for days, and nobody came looking for me.

Percy spoke skeptically, perhaps thinking it was a prank, since he'd never actually seen the fairy in the letter, but—

"You don't need to wait anymore," Owen said suddenly, his face turning cold. "The person you're waiting for is already dead."

"Dead?" Percy exclaimed in surprise. "How did you know—don't you think this is just a prank?"

"A week ago, Hermione and I found a goblin corpse in Hogsmeade," he said calmly. "That matches the timing you mentioned perfectly."

"This—" Percy clutched his forehead. The death of fairies was not common, or rather, it was not common in the location of Hogsmeade, because, for well-known reasons, wizards did not want to see such creatures in Hogsmeade.

Therefore, the fairy corpse that Irving encountered could very well be the one who wrote the letter to him.

He was surprised that it really was a fairy who attacked him, but—why?

Is it for the money?

For those greedy creatures, only Galleons are their eternal pursuit.

But he himself—he had no money at all!

"Hmph—I thought this year would be a peaceful one!" Owen said coldly. "Looks like there are still many reptiles lurking in the shadows, eager to make their move!"

"Oh, right." He snapped out of his reverie and turned to Percy, "When you were attacked, didn't the Ministry of Magic do anything about it?"

By this time, they had walked through the long corridor and arrived at the side corridor of the auditorium.

Owen waved his wand, and the crystal chandeliers automatically went out wherever he went.

"The Auror office sent people to investigate, but they found nothing." Percy gave a somewhat bitter laugh. "After receiving that letter, I even asked my colleague to investigate what the fairies were up to lately."

"What did you find out?"

"No, everything is normal. Those Aurors even think I have paranoia," Percy said mockingly.

"What else do you know about the attack?" Owen asked, as he knew very little information at the moment, and most of it was secondhand.

He was also worried about this event that deviated so much from the original story. Humans always have a natural sense of urgency when it comes to the unknown.

"Yes—" Percy suddenly stopped, his bloodshot eyes looking at Owen with utter helplessness. His expression was so complex, like a pot of bitter soup. "Charlie and Bill sent a letter. They were attacked too."

"What?" Owen looked at him in surprise.

"Yes, it's been like this for the past few months. They don't dare write to Mom and Dad. They can't help much, except worry and cry." Percy suddenly punched the wall next to him. The shattered rubble cut his arm, and blood slowly trickled down the crack in the wall. But Percy seemed to have lost the feeling of pain. His face showed no pain, but was full of self-blame.

"This is aimed at the entire Weasley family!" Owen immediately came to this conclusion.

"But why your house?"

Then he raised another question.

The Weasley family is perhaps the most numerous pure-blood family in the wizarding world. Their branches are spread throughout Europe, America, and Africa, and they share blood ties with most other pure-blood families.

But why Percy's family?

To be honest, they were inconspicuous. Not all branches of the Weasley family lived as poorly as the Percy family. Some were even quite powerful. If the attackers were after power or wealth, they would never have attacked such a family.

I've only ever heard of bank robberies, never slum robberies.

"Does Dumbledore know about this?"

"I spoke to him tonight, and he told me to come find you," Percy said in a low, hoarse voice. "There are also goblins around Hogwarts, and I heard they even tried to attack a young wizard."

"Huh?" Owen looked at him, puzzled. "How come I didn't know?"

"You didn't know?" Percy asked, somewhat surprised. "Well! Now you know. Anyway, keep an eye on Ron and the others, especially George and Fred. They're always thinking about sneaking out of the castle, and what if they get into danger? If possible, don't let them leave the castle for the rest of the semester—no, for the entire next term!"

"If there's any safe place left in Britain, it's Hogwarts."

"I will."

At this moment, the two had reached the spiral staircase. "Alright, let's part ways here. I have some things to do; I need to talk to the principal about the competition."

"Hmm!" Owen responded. Percy then walked away, looking dejected.

He walked up the spiral staircase, his footsteps treading on the familiar marble, but this did not bring him much joy at returning to this place. Instead, he seemed to be carrying a mountain on his shoulders, his back bent, as if he had aged more than ten years, and he walked with a heartbreaking gait.

Irving understood that feeling of powerlessness.

He had this feeling when he was tricked by Miss Granger several times during his first playthrough, and when his plans were stalled.

The difference is that Percy may be in even more pain than him.

After all, Irving has never considered Death Eaters as his family!

As Percy's figure gradually disappeared into the darkness, Owen clenched his fists involuntarily.

This was the first time he had faced a completely unknown and powerful enemy since the start of his second playthrough.

He didn't want to see his familiar friends suffer the same pain as Percy.

Irving then headed to the basement.

The sounds of revelry in the castle seemed to be buried by the wind and snow.

Everything returned to calm.

But no one knows what kind of filth is hidden beneath this snowstorm.

------

On the second day of Christmas, everyone got up late. The common room was much quieter than in previous days, with people chatting idly, occasionally interrupted by yawns.

They will then be enjoying a full week of vacation.

When they finally made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast, yawning and dawdling, it was already past nine o'clock. However, the elves seemed to have anticipated that the young wizards would sleep in, so they extended the breakfast service time.

When Owen met Hermione again that morning, her hair was a mess again. She confessed to Owen that she had sprayed a lot of quick-smooth hairspray on her hair for the ball. "But it's too much trouble to do this every day," she said practically, scratching the cat's ear, which purred contentedly.

"Actually, I know there's a curse."

As he spoke, Owen told Hermione about a type of spell he knew.

It's a special spell used to style hair. As long as you style your hair in advance and then apply this spell to it, the spell will keep your hair in that shape forever.

The downside is that human hair is still growing. Although it's styled, new hair will still pile up on top of the head. Also, the spell doesn't protect against dust. If you use this spell for a long time, your hair will only become more and more messy. In the history of magic, there was a witch who used this spell to style her hair for more than ten years. When she realized that she had been using it for too long and lifted the spell, her hair, which was several meters long, bounced up like a compressed spring, along with—her scalp.

They enjoyed their breakfast.

Harry, however, kept complaining. He heard from George that Ron seemed to have sneaked into Ilvermorny's starship last night. Anyway, Ron didn't go back to his dormitory last night, and when he got up this morning, Ron's bed was empty, and the blankets weren't even pulled back.

This further confirmed George's words, which greatly displeased Harry. He and Ron were best friends, but now he had a secret, and a third party had entered their bromance.

Harry said that Ron shouldn't have kept quiet and should have told him where he was going. In short, he was very unhappy that his good brother had grown up overnight without taking him along!

Breakfast was spent listening to Harry's rambling.

In the afternoon, Owen took some time to visit Sirius Black to learn about the area around the castle.

During his time at Hogwarts, he was in charge of the school's security work, working alongside Moody.

In fact, Sirius knew far less than Owen guessed. They had been investigating the goblins around the castle for over a month, but had not found a single clue.

He simply told Owen the same stories he had told Harry and Hermione about his great-great-grandfather.

While this gave Irving some idea of ​​what his current enemies were like, it didn't provide any real, valuable clues.

In the following days, Owen sought out many people to inquire about the goblins. Guided by the ghost of Hufflepuff—the fat monk—Owen went to Professor Spencer, the historian of magic, to learn more. As a professor who had taught in the castle since the founding of Hogwarts, Professor Spencer certainly knew far more than others could imagine.

But this was just Owen's speculation. In reality, Professor Spencer hardly paid any attention to his questions. He was very old and somewhat stubborn, and no young wizard could ever have a normal conversation with him.

He couldn't even remember Irving's name, even though he was a popular figure at school.

Professor Spence would address Irving as "Mr. Sankos," and he would deliver his lectures in a monotonous, uninterrupted manner, without pausing for anything you said.

Of course—he would still react to some of the school's legends, such as the Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin, but unfortunately Professor Spencer was very stubborn in his belief that it was just a legend and that there was no such room in the school at all.

Therefore, what he says may not all be correct.

Irving spent several days trying to contact Professor Spencer, but it seemed somewhat foolish and futile; the professor hardly answered his questions or even paid him any attention.

But upon hearing the name Shani Weasley and the terms "heir to ancient magic," he reacted slightly, his pale gray body flushing red, like a wizard blushing with anger. Then, with a ferocious and agitated expression, he rudely ousted Owen from the office, though he couldn't actually have any effect on Owen.

Afterward, he went to Dumbledore and asked the headmaster to speak with Professor Spencer personally. He was sure Spencer knew something, but he wouldn't tell him.

In the following days, everyone had their own things to do.

With Christmas over, January 24th seems even closer. After the holidays, the competition will start in two weeks.

For the remainder of the holiday, Miss Granger finally emerged from the sweetness of the ball and became anxious, spending a great deal of time running to the library to investigate the snake locket.

But to no avail. At first, she firmly stated that she did not need Irving's help, but after several days of setbacks, she seemed to have lost her previous toughness.

"I don't understand, why don't you just ask Irving for the answer to the game riddle!"

One afternoon, just before the start of the new school term, a large group of young wizards were copying—doing their homework—in the Great Hall.

Although the assignments given by the professors were a piece of cake for Irving, he still liked to borrow from Miss Granger's work. Why? Just because he didn't want to use his brain.

"Because—" Owen looked up, put down his quill, and nudged Hermione beside him. When the little witch looked up at him with her dreamy eyes, Owen pointed to his cheek, "Give me a kiss, and I'll tell you the answer!"

He then received a glare in return, and Hermione went back to her work.

Harry was speechless. If he could, he wouldn't want to sit across from them for even a second, if it weren't for the fact that he hadn't finished his homework yet.

The ambiguous situation before him deeply hurt Harry, and he subsequently harbored even more resentment towards Ron.

He had run into Ron in the garden yesterday, but Ron was unresponsive to his greeting, as if he were a complete stranger.

That guy who values ​​women over friends has forgotten he's a Hogwarts student.

Just as Harry was feeling sad and his gaze involuntarily drifted towards Ravenclaw, the sound of a winged eagle taking flight suddenly echoed through the Great Hall.

It's Hedwig.

It carried a thick newspaper in its mouth and dropped it on the long table in front of Harry.

"Oh! I see you, Owen."

Harry grabbed the newspaper and unfolded it. The front page featured a photo of Owen and Hermione, a still from the moment they kissed in the Great Hall.

Miss Granger glanced at it and immediately lowered her head awkwardly.

Harry, on the other hand, watched with great interest.

He was a little confused, though. "Did Rita Skeeter come to the ball? I didn't see her."

"She's everywhere." Owen took the newspaper from Harry, intending to cut out the photo.

Rita Skeeter's Animagus beetle is extremely rare in the entire wizarding world.

Unless she foolishly exposes herself, catching a beetle in the castle is harder than climbing to heaven, especially since it's winter, which is already making things easier. In summer, you'd have to distinguish her from ten thousand real beetles.

He glanced at the article—aside from portraying him as a heart thief and subtly implying that Hermione was a promiscuous girl, it didn't say much else, probably because he was scared off by Miss Granger's fan club last time.

However—as a rising star in the eyes of young British wizards, finding a boyfriend will still have some impact on Miss Granger's reputation. Although most wizards start dating at this age, when it happens to them, they hope the world will treat them kindly, but when it happens to others, they become the so-called mainstream voice, criticizing you for being too frivolous, how can you establish such an improper relationship at such a young age?

Britain, in particular, is more conservative than other European countries, and the wizarding world is even more conservative than the Muggle world.

"Oh my God!"

"I can't believe this woman is still spouting nonsense." Although the photo in the newspaper made Hermes feel embarrassed, the text next to it infuriated her. She snatched the newspaper from Owen's hand—

—The exceptionally talented and ambitious Miss Granger seems to have taken a deep liking to a young wizard with a powerful background and great fame. According to reliable sources, after she abandoned the poor Bulgarian Quidditch star, Viktor Krum, her new boyfriend is a member of the ancient Rozier family from Paris.

—We don’t yet know how this will affect her ex-boyfriend, Harry Potter, the savior of the world.

Hermione looked somewhat frightening. She gritted her teeth, viciously kicked the newspaper in her hand, and clenched her fists tightly, as if she wanted to pour all her resentment into them.

Clearly, the little witch had reached a breaking point of anger.

It's easy to imagine what she would do to Rita Skeeter if she actually caught her.

"It gets even worse."

Harry suddenly placed the portion he was holding on the table.

It was a huge photograph of Haig, and in the dim light, he looked furtive.

Below, a line of large letters clearly reads: Dumbledore's major mistake.

This newspaper's special correspondent, Rita Skeeter, reports that the eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Abbott Dumbledore, has a history of hiring controversial instructors. This September, he appointed Astor "Mad-Eye" Moody as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, a decision that greatly surprised many within the Ministry of Magic.

Moody is a notorious scoundrel who was formerly an Auror.

It is well known that he will attack if anyone suddenly moves in front of him.

However, compared to the half-human, half-demon hired by Dumbledore, Mad-Eye Moody was quite serious, responsible, kind, and approachable.

Hagrid is a large, fierce-looking man who uses his newly acquired power—the position of professor of the Magical Creatures Protection Class—to acquire a batch of dangerous creatures that are prohibited from being kept by the Ministry of Magic, using them as teaching materials. He also participates in some experiments with prohibited creatures.

New evidence suggests that he is not a pure-blood wizard, or even a pure-blood human. We can exclusively reveal that his mother is the giantess Friedvafar, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.

"I can't believe it!" Harry said angrily, looking up at everyone after reading the newspaper. "How could she slander Hagrid like that? What giant blood? Even if he is, so what? He's a good man."

"And—" he changed the subject, looking at Hermione, "how did you find out about that wretched woman, Skeeter?"

"No matter how she found out, this is a very serious problem now," Owen said calmly.

"Let's not talk about the giant-hybrid thing for now." He knew that Harry and Hermione, being from Muggle families, didn't understand this kind of creature. In fact, during the last time Voldemort was in power, the giants joined the Death Eaters and caused a lot of horrific attacks. It was normal for wizards to despise and fear this kind of creature.

"There's no evidence of mixed race, but what about those biological experiments? Those are things that are set in stone."

He said with some regret, "But even so, it was enough for the Ministry of Magic to arrest him. According to the law, he will be imprisoned in Azkaban for at least ten years."

"Good heavens!" Miss Granger exclaimed, covering her mouth in surprise.

They had heard Sirius talk about the infamous wizarding prison; in his words, an ordinary person could go insane even after just one day or an hour there, and ten years—it was unimaginable.

"What do we do now?" Harry asked in a panic. Hagrid was his guide in the wizarding world, the hero who led him away from his Vernon family. He didn't want to see Hagrid imprisoned in Azkaban.

"I don't know, let's wait for news and see how Barty Crouch reacts."

For the next week, Hagrid remained missing.

During mealtimes, he didn't appear at the faculty table, nor did anyone see him on the field fulfilling his duties as the gamekeeper. Harry went looking for him several times, but he refused to show himself, hiding in the cabin with the curtains drawn tightly.

After the new semester began, even his position was taken over by the substitute teacher, Professor Grapland.

Professor Grapland was an elderly witch with short, gray hair and a very prominent chin.

To be fair, her teaching skills are far superior to Hagrid's, and she also knows how to choose appropriate magical creatures.

On the first day of the new semester, she showed the third and fourth graders unicorns in two classes, which were much more popular than the scallop shells.

The girls lined up to pet the unicorn, and the lucky ones could even bring home a few unicorn hairs. They were overjoyed to receive souvenirs after attending class.

With just one move, Professor Grapland erased all traces of Hagrid's year and a half in this class. Everyone suddenly realized that the Fantastic Beasts Conservation class was so interesting, and that the magical creatures had never been as wonderful as they were today.

This was even worse for Harry, because it wiped out any remaining sympathy people had for Hagrid.

He became very worried and kept going to Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore tried to save Hagrid's professorship, but neither of the two principals gave a clear answer.

As time went on, more and more young wizards grew fond of Professor Grapland, and Hagrid's situation gradually worsened. Even if he wasn't eventually imprisoned in Azkaban, his professorship would likely be taken away.

(End of this chapter)