I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 308 Outside the Kitchen

The professors left in a hurry as they walked out of the kitchen.

They had too many things to deal with and no time to lecture these young wizards.

Miss Granger glanced at Owen, and after seeing his serious expression, she turned around and began to check each of the little elves for injuries.

Heartbreakingly, the oldest elf, named Tucker, died in the evil magical flames of the fairies.

He was the only one.

The elves remained silent, and many of them burst into tears.

He didn't even leave behind a body; the last scene he left for his descendants was his figure rushing towards the fairy to stop her from opening the door to the secret chamber.

"Tucker is a real little elf," Dobby commented.

And when he said this, he unusually did not use the term "house-elves," which has a slave connotation.

He said that Tucker did not die for his master, but for his friend and for a belief.

When he pounced on the fairy, he was no longer a slave, but a free spirit.

Miss Granger was heavy-hearted, as if something was weighing her down and making it hard for her to breathe. After hearing the news of the elf's death, Hermione's mind began to replay the image of the woman in the Chamber of Secrets.

She was terrified.

She knows she can't think like that.

Everyone's situation is different.

However, people's thoughts are sometimes beyond their control; the more you try not to think about it, the more your thoughts will wander.

She could only force herself to find something to do to distract herself.

Just like in every Potions class, whenever Snape mocked her, Hermione would force herself to memorize the steps of brewing potions.

She had read the book "Powerful Potions" countless times, and she knew the steps for brewing those potions by heart.

This seems to have become a habit.

Only in this way could she calmly face Snape or other things she disliked.

Hermione addressed the house-elves and said she would hold a simple memorial service for Tucker.

In remembrance of his heroic deeds.

The elves' reactions were not as enthusiastic as she had expected. Apart from Dobby clearly expressing his agreement, the other elves were somewhat panicked.

No wizard has ever held a memorial service for a house-elves.

This frightened them, a fear of the unknown.

But Hermione was adamant that she would hold the memorial service.

Even if she's the only one who participates.

After settling the elf in, Owen and Hermione left the kitchen.

It's cruel to say—the elves, who had just been kidnapped, had to start preparing dinner for the young wizards before they could even catch their breath.

This angered Miss Granger, who felt it was rather inhumane of the elves to serve the young wizard, even though they were happy to do so.

In her words, "Skipping one meal won't kill you."

Besides, it's not that we don't have food to eat—it's just that we don't have hot food to eat.

Yesterday's leftovers can be heated up and used as a makeshift meal—of course, the little wizard has to heat it up himself.

In short, Miss Granger was not happy when she left the kitchen.

Harry and Ron had already left; they were busy looking after Ginny.

On the way to the History of Magic class, only he and Hermione remained.

Suddenly, as they passed by an abandoned house that Snape used to store odds and ends, he pulled Miss Granger inside.

Hermione, who was telling Owen that she wanted to get the elves a day off each week, didn't immediately understand.

"What's wrong?" Hermione's eyes flickered with doubt, and the restless thoughts in her mind suddenly stopped.

What should I do after adding the powder from the Motra rat's tentacles?

She looked around.

It was filthy, with a faint smell of rotting food in the air. It looked like a broom, but it was full of oak barrels. I wondered what was inside, but it probably wasn't anything good.

Snape kept all his precious potions in his office. Don't ask her how she knew—Hermione could only say it was the second-year Polyjuice Potion, the one with Owen's hair in it.

It tastes like unsweetened black tea, bitter yet with a unique aroma.

Looking back now—even the bitterness seems distant.

The aroma lingered on my taste buds.

—The next second, Owen pushed her against the wall and his lips followed, covering hers.

"Um?"

The girl let out a sob.

Suddenly, a blazing fire broke out.

Hermione was pressed tightly between his body and the wall, her eyes widening in surprise. Her fingers involuntarily gripped the boy's robes, and in shock, her eyes trembled as she closed them, then returned the kiss.

The girl's response seemed to have sparked something.

The boy reached out and held her chin, pressing his hand against her ear. His curved fingers ran through her hair, guiding her to lean back and deepen the kiss.

They finally separated when their lungs seemed to be suffocating.

His forehead pressed against hers, and his breathing became rapid.

"Miss Granger," he stroked the girl's cheek, "this is your punishment."

"Um"

A barely audible murmur escaped Hermione's slightly red lips. She dared not look into Owen's eyes, but they were too close, forehead to forehead, making it impossible for her to look away.

She could only look at the boy; he was the only one in her eyes.

Oh! What beautiful eyes!

For some reason, Hermione suddenly felt this way when she saw Owen's eyes, which were increasingly speckled with green.

Then she was punished by her own shame.

A blush spread from her cheeks to her neck, making her look as if she were burning up.

This made her thoughts extremely difficult, moving as slowly as an old train, creaking and groaning as it went, yet this train carried her most genuine thoughts.

If this is punishment, can it last a little longer?

"What are you thinking about?" Owen put one arm around her waist and stroked her hair with the other.

The girl's body trembled slightly, her eyes reflecting his cynical expression.

"Nothing, nothing at all?" Hermione said dryly, as if the kiss had taken away all her moisture.

"Didn't you think about anything?" Owen raised an eyebrow dismissively. "When Miss Granger kissed me, didn't you think about anything? Was your mind completely blank?"

"I thought she would at least have me on her mind. It seems I was just being delusional."

"..." The girl was speechless. She gritted her teeth, having no chance against the boy's sweet talk. Granger had put all his talent into magic, and when it came to verbal sparring, she couldn't even out-talk Harry, let alone the famously talkative Hogwarts.

"I," she looked into Owen's eyes, then gave him a defiant look, "like this—" She suddenly reached out and wrapped her arms around the boy's neck.

"I want it this way," the girl admitted to him, blushing.

"Being with you, I've always hoped to be with you like this."

The words had barely left his mouth.

Even Miss Granger herself was shocked. Oh my God—she never knew she could be so bold.

But a certain courage sustained her, allowing her to look Owen in the eye, even though she was so shy she felt like steam was rising from her head.

"Oh~~~" the boy drawled, "That's really bold!"

Then came the kiss, a long, passionate kiss.

They kissed until they were breathless.

He was kissed, and his body was covered in Miss Granger's scent.

After a long while, they finally separated, both of them breathing heavily, leaning against each other.

Miss Granger blushed and nestled in the boy's arms.

Even though it was just a kiss, she felt as if all the strength had been drained from her body.

It's even difficult to stand up.

"Can you promise me something?" the boy asked tenderly, brushing a stray hair from her forehead.

"Um--"

Before Irving could say anything, the girl gave a firm reply.

Her head was spinning, and she had lost the ability to think clearly. At this point, she probably wouldn't refuse anything.

Feeling Hermione's body temperature, Owen hugged her and said calmly but somewhat cruelly, "If we encounter danger again in the future..."

"If I tell you to hide, you hide; if I tell you to run, you run; if I tell you to abandon me and stay by yourself, you must do it."

"I—" Hermione propped her head up in his arms, looking at him with affection in her eyes.

"Promise me." The boy looked at her.

------

In the afternoon, after attending half of an incredibly boring history of magic class.

When Owen and Hermione reappeared in the Great Hall, it was already getting dark.

The reason it's only halfway through is that after Owen and Hermione came out of the kitchen, they first went to the school nurse's office.

Although Hermione kept saying that she was fine.

But whether or not something is wrong is not up to her to decide; it will be up to Mrs. Pomfrey to find out.

It appears the knife wound on her arm has healed completely. Not even a scar remains. She also shows no signs of distress, but it was all just a precaution.

What if it's poisonous?

What if there's some kind of curse?

What if there are other wounds that she just hasn't noticed?

If Miss Granger really did die—he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with dozens of pretty girls.

Sitting on the hospital bed in the school nurse's office, Owen and Hermione sat side by side, facing a patch of red hair.

Gemini, Ginny.

Ron, his face bruised and swollen.

And then there's Percy, who arrived at Hogwarts at some unknown time.

They stood guard outside Ginny's window, the four brothers watching over their sister, which made Owen feel a little envious.

Harry was also among the onlookers.

A hint of envy flashed in his green eyes.

In an instant, Irving decided that it's better to have more than two children!

The wait for the test results was long; it wasn't until Madam Pomfrey had examined Ginny that Hermione's turn came.

Then, after a thorough examination including package inquiries, spell checks, and some minor physical tests, which took more than ten minutes, Madam Pomfrey finally confirmed that Hermione was indeed ill.

And it's a very serious illness.

She had no physical injuries or poisoning, but she suffered from mild anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorder, as well as moderate insomnia.

In short, her spirit was riddled with holes. Mrs. Pomfrey said that these were mostly caused by staying up late, because sleep is a good medicine for mental illness. If you are under a lot of pressure in your life, enough sleep can greatly alleviate the symptoms. Unfortunately, Miss Granger probably couldn't learn to rest on time.

Starting in second grade, ever since she learned to make her own energy drinks, staying up all night became a regular occurrence, especially during those months in third grade when she was in the House of Knowledge—she stayed up so late that she fainted and grew white hair.

Even so, Hermione continued to do things her own way. After a little over a month, she started going to bed at one or two in the morning and getting up at five or six again.

Owen's previous attempt to lure Hermione into his bed wasn't just for Catherine's sake; it was also for her health.

Madam Pomfrey prescribed Hermione a blood tonic, then looked at Owen with a serious expression.

"You should at least show some concern for her health."

Her critical tone made Irving feel ashamed.

"A wizard's body is different from a Muggle's."

"Magic is the power of emotions," she said.

Owen strongly agrees with this point, stating that most spells require corresponding emotions to cast, and it's not wrong to say that magic is the power of emotions.

"If a wizard's mind goes haywire, then there will be huge changes in his spells. Bad changes."

Mrs. Pomfrey did not put it so bluntly.

But Owen could tell that the wizards were mentally unstable, making them highly susceptible to falling into the clutches of dark magic.

Dark wizards like Bella and Barty Crach Jr.

They didn't become cruel because they used dark magic.

It is because they are cruel that they can use black magic.

Those so-called born bad seeds are almost all caused by unfortunate childhoods. Just as some people's childhoods give them the positive power of the Guardian Charm, others' childhoods release the green light of the Killing Charm.

"I understand, Professor." Owen nodded solemnly, gripping Miss Granger's hand even tighter.

Hermione, on the other hand, remained silent throughout, believing that Madam Pomfrey's words were merely alarmist rhetoric.

This is a common phrase used by doctors. She guessed—like her father, he would warn all his patients to eat less sugar.

Even if the other person never eats sweets, it doesn't matter.

This might be a habit of doctors.

However, the tight grip from her hand made her genuinely happy, and she couldn't care less about anything else.

Mrs. Pomfrey left, pushing her medical cart.

As a therapist, she did her job. Whether these rebellious children would obey was beyond her control.

Ginny slowly woke up just as Owen and Hermione were about to leave.

She barely opened her eyes, as if waking from a long sleep.

Upon seeing their sister wake up, the Weasleys who were watching all felt a lump in their throats, and Ron even broke down in tears.

From confusion to clarity.

Ginny slowly recalled what had happened before.

Her brown eyes gradually welled up with tears, as if Ron were leading her.

And this quickly spiraled out of control.

She collapsed into George's arms, her sobs breaking into short, intermittent breaths. Percy was afraid she would faint from crying again.

So they summoned Mrs. Pomfrey.

Ginny calmed down after being given a bottle of tranquilizer.

And then—and then she acted like nothing had happened.

Apart from looking a little tired, she even looked better than Miss Granger.

Um—Owen glanced at it, and then realized that he really hadn't been taking good enough care of Miss Granger.

He should take action.

On his way to the spell classroom, Owen's mind started to wander.

He was daydreaming throughout the entire class.

When the class ended, they followed the crowd to the auditorium.

The snow, which had lasted for a day and a night, stopped.

But the dark clouds have not yet dissipated.

The bustling group of young wizards were mostly talking about the second game.

This gave them a sudden feeling of being in another world, as if two different worlds had collided. After only a few hours away, they felt a slight sense of unease upon their return.

After finding a seat...

Irving then looked toward the podium.

There was no way around it; it was too conspicuous.

Five torches appeared behind the rostrum at some point.

Above the torch fluttered the flags of the four major magic schools.

After inquiring with the young wizards around them, they learned that Dumbledore had placed it there, supposedly for the warriors. When the torch representing a warrior was lit, it meant that he had passed the second test.

The challenge will be available for the next week.

No wonder the young wizards in the hall were so enthusiastic, laughing and speculating about who would be the first to pass the test.

Actually, this is easy to determine.

Because the school song of Ilfamoni was always playing in the auditorium.

They celebrated joyfully, as if their school had already won the semi-finals.

The other houses were not to be outdone, especially Hogwarts.

They have two brave warriors.

And one of them even has the ability to contend for the championship. (Poor Cedric)

How could that despicable thief, Evamoni, possibly be a match for Miss Granger?

Soon, the Hogwarts school song was being sung by a chorus of voices throughout the Great Hall.

To be honest, it's embarrassing.

Irving has covered his face.

When the Hogwarts school song is paired with Ilfamoni's.

Their only advantage is that they have more people and a louder voice; otherwise, you can't find anything that can compare to them.

The Iphamani witches sang their school song with melodious and clear voices.

His face radiated confidence.

On the other hand, at Hogwarts—good heavens! Everyone was flushed, shouting at the top of their lungs, singing or reciting lyrics in all sorts of nonsensical tunes.

It perfectly embodies the phrase "impotent rage".

Especially Gryffindor.

Irving was so angry at these guys he laughed.

Damn—could it get any more ridiculous?

Irving then gave his answer: Yes!

"Shut up, all of you from Hogwarts!"

He shouted.

Then, squinting, he looked at the Iphamoni over there. They had expressions as if they had won, and with provocative eyes, they sang more and more enthusiastically.

"Everyone, enjoy the music!"

As he spoke, he set an example by sitting up straight and then looked at Iphamoni with a smile.

Every now and then he would reach out and raise his palm.

"Great! You sang very well!"

Upon seeing this, the Gryffindors around him immediately understood, like a righteous wind blowing from here, and soon the young wizards from other houses also understood its profound meaning.

They all sat ramrod straight.

Eyes turned down, lips turned up, like this.

They looked at the clown playing music for them with a 'smile' on their faces.

Soon, this expression spread like a virus; the Hogwarts students learned it without being taught, and in the blink of an eye, everyone had the same expression.

After lasting for three minutes and fifty-seven seconds, the little wizards of Iphamoni finally stopped.

They glared angrily at the young wizards of Hogwarts, but there was nothing they could do.

After all, they neither insulted you nor hit you.

They even clapped along while you were singing.

That expression is just so infuriating.

—————————————————————

After drinking a glass of juice, Miss Granger nudged him with her elbow.

"What's wrong?" Owen's face looked a little unnatural; it must have been hard for him to maintain that expression!

Then we saw the reclusive Minister of Magic, Barty Crach, who hadn't appeared in public for over a month.

He looked exactly the same as he had two months ago, with no change in appearance. He was wearing a gray robe and a round hat.

His face was ashen, but his steps were firm; he didn't resemble the rumored figure who was seriously ill and about to die.

"He's probably here because of Ludo Bagman. No wonder Percy's here," Owen said dismissively.

The saying goes, "Knowing people and assigning them to good positions." Ludo Bagman is a gambling addict. Even if he hadn't gone bankrupt before, how could someone like that be a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic?

Aren't you just handing your weakness over to the enemy?

"This serves as a cautionary tale," Owen said, looking at Hermione.

"You can't have this kind of person in your future leadership team."

"Oh!" Hermione blinked, having already accepted Owen's persistent belief that she would run for Minister of Magic.

She used to think he was joking, or even mocking her.

After all, how could someone of her bloodline be appointed Minister of Magic?

But now—she felt deep down that it was just the Minister of Magic! So what if I wanted to sit down for a bit?

"Oh! By the way," Owen suddenly looked at her, "Regarding the competition, I suggest you try to clear it tonight."

He said mysteriously, "The professors will definitely be very busy today. Let me tell you a shortcut—there's a sewer over by Black Lake."

"No—I want to complete the game by myself." Hermione suddenly turned her head and said stubbornly.

"Getting help is also a form of strength! Some people want help but no one helps them; those who act justly gain much support, while those who act unjustly find little. This further demonstrates that our Miss Granger is more popular!"

Hermione, blushing slightly at Owen's sweet talk, still refused to lower her head. She said, "If I can, I'll easily pass the level. If I can't, I'll practice my spells even harder, Owen—" She looked earnestly at the boy, "This time, I really want to win the championship on my own."

After all that has happened, Hermione's competitive spirit has been fully ignited, and she needs to summon her courage even in the most difficult times.

Especially when facing that girl named Koyatl Stewart.

Hermione forced herself to confront her directly and defeat her completely. This wasn't just about saving face for Hogwarts.

It was also for her own sake.

Although she didn't know which girl would participate in the competition.

Or, they could be imprisoned in Azkaban.

(End of this chapter)