I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 305 The Secret Room in the Kitchen

"Harry is going to find Dumbledore; we'll meet in the kitchen."

Owen, who had already arrived at the spiral staircase, gave the order.

He pulled out his Phoenix Crystal Wand again, took a deep breath, and looked at Harry seriously.

"No problem," Harry replied, panting.

He really couldn't understand why Irving was still so energetic; where did he get his strength?

However, the situation was urgent, and Harry, with no time to complain, started climbing the stairs again, which led him to the fourth floor.

On the other side, Irving was also quick on his feet.

He suddenly felt a little flustered.

I feel like I've forgotten something.

The feeling was even stronger when he saw Ron sitting there dumbfounded.

One minute later.

Irving rushed into the kitchen.

There was a picture of a fruit platter hanging on the wall. He scratched it with his hand, and the pears in the platter suddenly came to life, laughing and munching. Then they turned into a large green handle. He grabbed the handle and pulled hard, and a small corridor leading to the kitchen appeared.

Irving made his way there without any obstacles in the process.

When he got close to the kitchen, he immediately saw the four long wooden tables.

A group of small creatures were preparing food, looking almost like little elves.

"You've really gone through a lot of trouble."

Although they were all the same size, the creatures were all wearing silver plate armor, a technique of the fairies that provided strong protection against spells.

Yes, they are a group of fairies.

There were about a dozen, but Irving didn't have time to count them all.

The fairies also noticed the stranger who had suddenly barged in. After all, Owen hadn't intended to hide.

"If someone tells me where Dobby is, I might spare his life," Owen said, holding up his wand and spreading his hands, looking very easy to talk to.

But his "good intentions" did not bring him any good results.

The demons, seeing him as a formidable enemy, stretched out their long, waxy yellow hands and began to cast spells on him.

One after another, dark red spells, like pulsating, filthy evil, surged toward him.

The first time Irving looked at the curse, he felt a genuine sense of nausea.

"You're asking for it." With that, he quickly waved his wand, its dark blue-silver-gray gleaming, trying to block all the spells.

"hiss?"

He cast the Iron Armor Spell, but the effect was not very good.

The red curse, like some kind of corrosive viscous liquid, 'stuck' to his pale blue, illusory iron armor. Although he couldn't hear a sound, Owen could still seem to hear the hissing corrosion sound coming from the iron armor.

"curse?"

He raised an eyebrow, and ancient magic instantly overflowed.

The immense magical power tore those spells apart.

Silver light gathered at the tip of the staff, a kind of destructive radiance that covered his cheeks with a layer of silver frost.

"Soul Torrent!"

He condensed the magic, then slammed it out.

Then came a loud "bang," from the fairy closest to him.

Its body suddenly began to crack, as if the scorching sun were burning a rock wall. Its skin, flesh, and bones began to crack and emit purple light. Finally, the entire fairy turned into nothingness in an explosion.

But this is far from the end; the wave-like magic continues.

He flicked the tip of his cane, and immediately a series of firecrackers rang in his ears.

"Such a useless piece of trash, yet he tries to break into homes and commit robbery?"

"Tch—" He chuckled dismissively.

"That curse spell is quite interesting, though; it can actually corrode iron armor."

It's important to know that although the Ironclad Spell sounds like some kind of lowly incantation, it is actually an extremely powerful spell.

It can conjure a magical shield out of thin air and deflect or dissipate objects or spells to protect the caster and a certain area around them.

It is one of the most frequently used spells by wizards.

The wizard who invented this spell is lost to history. If we could find him, this one spell alone would be enough to make him famous in history.

Because the Ironclad Charm can resist almost any spell in the magical world except for the Killing Charm. Even dark magic like the Fiendfyre Charm can be defended against by the Ironclad Charm, although the protection may not last very long.

Now, Irving has unexpectedly discovered a new curse that can break the Ironclad Curse, which surprised him somewhat.

"Who is it?"

Just as Owen dealt with the group of goblins outside who were preparing dinner for the little wizard, the door to the cold storage suddenly cracked open, and several more goblins ran out.

One of them drew its bow and aimed an arrow at him, ready to shoot a poisoned arrow stained with green juice.

"Brother, let me tell you." Owen suddenly gripped his left hand tightly. The next moment, as if pulled by some powerful gravitational force, the bow and arrow in the fairy's hand broke free and flew towards him.

"From now on, when you launch a sneak attack, don't make a sound!"

Having said that, Owen, with his left fist clenched, casually tossed the marble beneath the goblin's feet into the air. The marble pieces, like dust from the real world, surrounded the goblin before it could struggle, engulfing and burying the clowns in the wall beside it.

"Idiot!"

After cursing, Irving immediately went into the cold storage.

The moment he entered, the physical smell suddenly intensified.

"Um?"

He frowned, surveying his surroundings. His wand was poised to unleash a green glow at any moment.

The countless meat dishes that were originally displayed here have all disappeared.

Even the shelves for displaying meat have disappeared.

It was empty and lifeless.

All that remained was the light emitted by the torches burning on the walls.

It's like burning a hole in the night.

After walking a few steps, he arrived at the familiar bronze door.

"Sigh—" Owen shook his head, shaking his head helplessly.

Before him, the chess endgame was broken. Judging from the few pieces of parchment scattered on the ground, it must have been something that some red-haired kid had lost. Owen guessed that the guy probably didn't know that his chess manual had been stolen.

"This kid—tsk tsk," he was speechless.

Deep down, I had some guesses about the reason for this. I guessed that Ron had used the secret kitchen room incident as something to brag about, which gave Koyatl, who already had connections with fairies, the idea to act. And that's how all this trouble started.

Perhaps the fairies won't infiltrate Hogwarts so quickly; Ron, that little butterfly, undoubtedly accelerated the process.

Irving had no doubt about the veracity of his speculation.

Because it's perfectly normal for a young wizard of that age, fourteen or fifteen, to boast a little to a pretty girl; it's not normal to be scolded for it, it's normal to get flustered.

Let alone a group of junior wizards, even some people in their thirties or forties are not like that.

However, Ron's careless remark seems to have had some serious consequences.

With a sigh, Irving strode inside.

Behind the bronze gate was a narrow, precipitous mountain pass, barely wide enough for one person to pass through. Looking up, one could even see the dark clouds in the sky.

The cliffs on both sides were covered with green moss, probably because it was very hot and humid here.

Yes. It's hot and humid.

Despite the bitter cold of winter outside, the narrow mountain crevice was unusually hot and humid.

It's strange, but magical.

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.

As he walked on, not a single snowflake drifted in from above, making Owen wonder if the area above his head, like the ceiling of the auditorium, was just a magical illusion.

The steps beneath my feet are ancient stone steps, many of them chipped and broken, and the chips are uneven, here one piece, there another. Some steps look intact, but crumble instantly when stepped on. A slight misstep could result in a nasty fall.

Moreover, these steps bear the marks of time, and such damage cannot be repaired using restoration spells.

Continue walking down the wall.

Irving noticed that the stone steps beneath his feet seemed to be pointing downwards as a whole.

As time went on, the walls on both sides gradually "grew taller".

The sky, filled with heavy snow, also disappeared.

Instead, there is water, lake water.

He seemed to have arrived at the bottom of a black lake, with the water hanging upside down above his head. He could even see fish swimming by.

Of course, the distance is too far; maybe it's a mermaid.

Finally, after walking for another ten minutes or so, or maybe even longer.

Finally, just as Irving began to pant heavily, the water-covered steps came to an end.

He had never walked up such a long staircase before.

At first, Irving thought this was another staircase trick like the one in the underground chamber scene.

But the scenery above him was constantly changing, which continuously reminded him that what he was seeing was not some kind of magical trick.

"Huff, huff—" Panting heavily, he saw a wall vaguely appearing in the distance.

A black wall.

Very new —

Yes, elsewhere, such a difference between old and new might not be so noticeable. But when the surrounding walls and the stone steps under your feet are all weathered by thousands of years, and yet there is a wall in front of you that still shows its brick and stone structure, you will exclaim, "It's so new!"

It's certain that this was blocked by someone who came later; this road should have been completely unobstructed originally.

"Who is it?"

"The Divine Blade is Without a Shadow!"

The environment was dim; sunlight couldn't penetrate the lakebed, and there were no torches.

Although it wasn't pitch black, the surroundings were still blurry and required careful observation to discern anything.

As Irving's voice rang out, the unseen swords suddenly slashed through the air, followed by a "thud" as the sound of sharp blades cutting through flesh and blood rang out.

"Bang!" Something else fell to the ground.

The narrow and open mountain crevice allows the sound to travel very far, and the mountains on both sides form a natural echo chamber, thus amplifying all the sounds.

Oh! Owen grinned as he emerged from the dim light, finally able to see what was beneath him: a goblin head much larger than a human's, with easily recognizable pointed ears and a beard.

"Sorry, I didn't see you just now." As he spoke, several more sharp blades flew past, and the guarding fairies were almost helpless before they all lost their lives.

Blood stained the walls. The bloodstains flowed along the cracks in the brickwork, making the structure easily visible.

"After all, your kind of creatures are just too short."

A peculiar disc lay scattered beside the corpses of a few fairies. It resembled a solar corona, and since it wasn't part of the wall, it must have been something the fairies had brought.

Irving wasn't quite sure what it was for, but judging from the dark red stains that remained on it and couldn't be wiped off, it was definitely a murder weapon, and countless ghosts lingered on it.

However, he had no time to study the things of these lowly creatures.

He was eager to uncover the secrets of this secret room.

Standing before the black wall, Owen gently tapped it with his wand.

In an instant, he knew how to open it.

Ancient magic swirled at the tip of his wand, which he then lightly touched the wall with.

The next moment, just like ripples on a lake, the black wall also rippled like waves, the bricks and stones tightened together, and gradually, light seeped out from the gaps.

The golden, warm light shone on Owen, making him feel comfortable and cozy, a feeling reminiscent of the Hufflepuff common room spreading through his heart.

"Whoosh!" Just as a half-person-high crack appeared in the wall, an arrow suddenly shot out from the light.

Owen flicked his wand and pushed it away.

The glory faded.

What comes into view is a lush grassland, with resilient grass shoots swaying in the air.

It was as if he were on the seabed in shallow water, the currents swaying and moving the seaweed.

Further ahead stood a huge tree, its leaves shimmering with a faint light, just like the one planted in the secret underground chamber of the castle.

This tree is what holds up this small canopy of sky, keeping the lake water out.

"Miss Granger?"

Oh! He suddenly understood why he felt something was missing when he saw Ron earlier.

Oh, it turns out Hermione is missing.

The little witch simply went to inform the professors. A dozen minutes would pass, and she should be either in the infirmary, waiting for him to return at the gate, or perhaps she had run directly to Hogsmeade Village.

He knew her; Hermione couldn't sit still. The recklessness typical of Gryffindor was fully displayed in her.

"Whoosh~"

It's that red curse again.

This time, however, they sped towards Hermione.

Miss Granger seemed to know how troublesome this spell was, so she didn't raise her wand to defend herself, but instead dodged to the side.

Once he had regained his footing, he retaliated with a fire spell.

"What a nuisance," the old goblin who had released the curse cursed.

Then he flicked his finger and extinguished the flame.

He was somewhat anxious, his wrinkled face filled with urgency.

They've wasted too much time.

It shouldn't have taken this long.

The original plan was for them to infiltrate the castle with Ludo Bagman's help and evacuate within a few hours.

By daybreak, they should already be in the fairy kingdom.

But now—the woman's body still hasn't been found, and the identities of the two witches in front of them are also wrong. One has thin blood and only contains a small amount of ancient magic, while the other—their supposed successor—has no ancient magic power at all.

After working all night and all morning, I hadn't accomplished anything.

Now it can only pray that Dumbledore discovers the changes here later and gives them more time.

"Allen, you brat, you're not dead, are you?!" The old monster, whose eyelids were twitching wildly, suddenly shouted towards a patch of lush seaweed.

"No, damn old man." Then a very young-looking fairy got up from the ground. "This woman is clearly not the heir, so why is she so strong?"

"Ouch! That hurt so much! I almost died."

A large hole was burned into its silver armor, and there was a noticeable black mark on its green skin.

There seemed to be a faint smell of burnt fresh meat wafting in the air.

Clearly, it suffered a major setback at Miss Granger's hands.

"Avada Kedavra—the killer!"

The next second, Irving opened his mouth.

A chilling death curse, a soul-snatching Grim Reaper, the scythe slashed down, instantly taking away the goblin named Allen.

"Now it's not a little bit less." He walked over step by step, his eyes flashing with a violent flame.

"Wait, don't kill him!" Miss Granger quickly interjected, fearing that Owen would kill the last source of information directly.

"Don't worry—" Owen looked at the old monster with a mocking expression. "How could I bear to kill it?"

The wand shimmered with light, blocking all the spells unleashed by the old goblin in his impotent rage.

Irving's fighting style is characterized by an overwhelming sense of oppression. Even though he is only on the defensive, the leaping and frenzied aura emanating from him is like a demon from the outskirts of hell, watching closely at all times, waiting for the right opportunity to bite.

The old demon he was suppressing was suffocating.

Gradually, it became more and more panicked, and the relaxed muscles on its face trembled.

The frequency and angle of the spells became completely erratic, relying solely on the strange red magic to cast curses and fight against Owen.

Clearly, this is just a futile effort and a waste of time.

A dozen seconds later, Owen found an angle and used a petrification spell and a barrier spell to freeze him in place.

knock off!

Let the professor clean up this mess!

"Oh God!"

Speak of Cao Cao and Liu Bei arrives; right after Owen killed the two goblins, Professor McGonagall's voice came from outside the Black Wall.

Irving ignored him and walked toward Hermione.

As Owen drew closer, Miss Granger suddenly became nervous. She covered her left hand with her right, as if trying to hide something. When the boy was almost within inches of her, she showed a flustered expression as if she had done something wrong.

"Yes, that's right. You should definitely make that face, Miss Granger."

Owen grabbed her left hand.

A horrifying wound appeared on her jade-like arm, from which blood was seeping.

As he roughly grabbed her, the girl couldn't help but groan in pain.

"."

"Does it hurt?"

His grip loosened slightly.

"pain"

For some reason, just a second ago, Hermione, who had been pretending to be strong, suddenly had tears welling up in her eyes the moment Owen asked her question.

"That's good, it should hurt!" The boy deliberately pressed down on her palm.

Hermione frowned slightly.

"Thank goodness, thank goodness," Owen exclaimed several times. The wound was also a knife wound, exactly the same as the one on Weasley's body, only in a different location.

But for some reason, Miss Granger seemed completely unaffected.

This relieved Irving slightly; it was just a minor superficial injury that was easy to treat.

Then he reached into his inner pocket and took out a bottle of white chlorine. In fact, it wasn't just white chlorine; his pocket contained all of Professor Sprout's treasured possessions, except for the extremely rare and unique ones.

White peony was the one he had the most of.

As a miraculous medicine for healing external injuries, he naturally kept plenty of it on hand.

After applying the crushed white stigma evenly to Hermione's arm and wiping it over again, the hideous wound disappeared, leaving her fair arm with a tender glow, looking extremely healthy.

"A fairy disguised herself as a little elf and came to me, asking me to help them complete a ritual. If they completed the ritual, they would release Ginny."

After they arrived here, they only took my blood, and I…

"Stop, Miss Granger." Owen used a cleansing charm to remove all the bloodstains from her arm. "You should be saying these things to Dumbledore, not me."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Why should you apologize to me?" Owen's fingers brushed through her hair, his palm cupping her cheek and rubbing it. "If you die, I'll burn the world to the ground, then build a castle from the ashes, and live alone in it forever."

"Hmm?" Hermione stared at him, her brown eyes wide with surprise.

"Just kidding!" Owen added, "I'll marry seventeen or eighteen girls and then happily play around with them every day."

"What do you think?"

Miss Granger paused for a moment, then looked up and said in a low voice, "I'm sorry."

"Phew!" He took a deep breath, then looked at her solemnly. "I hope you can be more careful."

"I can't bear to watch you die."

------

"Hey, if you two could separate for a bit and tell me where Miss Weasley is."

Dumbledore suddenly walked over.

Hermione noticed him, then quickly took a few steps back to distance herself from Owen.

Her little face instantly turned bright red.

"Ginny, oh! Right, Ginny!" Suddenly, Miss Granger finally remembered that she had a good friend who was in trouble.

She immediately waved her wand, and then, right where she stood, the ground slowly rose up, revealing a girl wrapped in a mummy, covered in grass.

Hermione, a little embarrassed, explained as she waved her wand to remove the seaweed from Ginny's body, "I snatched her away, just now while I was fighting the goblins."

"I need to find a place to hide her, because I can't fight with her in my arms."

"Hmm—" Dumbledore relaxed his brow, not blaming anyone. As long as everyone was alright, Hogwarts couldn't accept the permanent loss of a student.

But when he saw the bloodstains on the seaweed, his brows furrowed again.

"The fairies used a broken dagger to cut our arms. First they took my blood, but they didn't seem very satisfied and were quite disappointed. Then they took Ginny's." Miss Granger paused, "I don't know why, but she suddenly fainted. Her face turned extremely pale."

"I only resisted in desperation—"

Irving lowered his head, looking at Ginny, who also had an injured left arm. "Same symptoms as the other Weasleys."

"Hmm." Dumbledore nodded.

"What do you think is the reason for this?" he then asked.

(End of this chapter)