I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 317 A dazzling world, the truth within the illusion.

Miss Granger leaned against the kitchen window, the morning breeze blowing through her hair, sunlight streaming through hedges, meadows, and farmland, passing through the window and falling on her face.

Suddenly, a beautiful, leisurely afternoon thought came to mind, like childhood memories: the old man under the big tree at the village entrance, the yellow dog at the old man's feet, and the bustling children leaving school.

The winding road stretching into the distance, with its endless expanse of fertile fields on either side, was bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

Yes—that's how Kyrie Irving feels right now.

"This is a dreamlike illusion."

A crisp sound rang out from the second floor.

Owen looked up and saw a girl with short, jet-black hair that brushed against her ears and dark eyes walking down a wooden staircase that smelled slightly musty.

"Is this what you used to look like?" Owen looked at her curiously, then pulled up a chair and leaned against the shop window.

"Maybe!"

She leaned against the armrest and continued, "I was subjected to their magical transformation before I was even born. How would I know what I originally looked like?"

"What's going on now?" Owen continued, "You've trapped me here?"

"I don't have that ability," the girl said, walking towards the kitchen and taking a teacup from the cupboard. "There should be tea here, black tea. I bought a bag of it in Chinatown in New York; the taste was unforgettable. It's a pity I'm not allowed to have things I like."

"Then I'll have it," Owen said listlessly, leaning against the shop window.

The next moment, red tea suddenly flowed from the bottom of the teacup in her hand.

The tea slowly rose to the surface, eventually filling the entire cup.

"Amazing," the girl said. "Thank you."

The slightly hot tea moistened her lips and teeth, spreading across her tongue and throughout her mouth before flowing down her throat. The lingering aroma filled her nose, bringing a sense of tranquility and pleasure.

"It looks like you're in charge here."

"I'm in charge?" Owen looked at her in confusion, then seemed to have figured something out.

Then he turned to look at Miss Granger, who stood to the side like an ancient Greek statue.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and a malicious smile appeared on his lips.

Immediately afterwards, Hermione, wearing her Hogwarts uniform, suddenly began to twist and contort. Her robes tightened and deformed, and a few seconds later, her clothes underwent a dramatic change. The robes disappeared, and in their place, a silky long dress with ear loops wrapped around her body.

Her straight, rosy calves were wrapped in stockings, and she wore flat leather boots.

"Wow!!!" Irving stood up straight, no longer leaning against the shop window.

He started creating the image with great enthusiasm, as if he had discovered a new continent.

"I could play with this costume for a year!" He was lost in thought when Miss Granger's statue began to change costumes continuously.

"cool!"

After playing for quite a while, Irving finally stopped, mainly because he had changed out of his proper clothes and was no longer being serious.

Things that aren't serious are easier to harmonize, so I won't overthink it.

"Looks like you're not that bold after all," Koyatel interjected at this point, her tone slightly mocking. "Or maybe you're all talk and no action?"

The boy's powerful magical abilities often made her forget his age, or at least treat him as a peer.

Only then did she realize that he was just a fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy, who probably hadn't even kissed her before.

Hmm—why am I thinking about these things?

"Heh—" Owen rolled his eyes at her, "Isn't there a third wheel here?"

"So why don't you hurry up and climb!"

"I wish I could, but unfortunately I can't," Koyatl said calmly.

"So what exactly is going on here?"

"A hazy, illusory realm, didn't I tell you? However, strictly speaking, it's not entirely that. This place is composed of your mental world and a small part of me. Compared to the illusions of the gods, it lacks the gaze of the divine!"

"I mean the reason for this." Owen also "thought" out a cup of tea, but his was flower tea.

It has the scent of roses.

"The way you killed me wasn't quite right."

"." Owen looked at him blankly.

Then I was speechless for a moment.

After a long pause, he gave a thumbs-up and said, "6."

"Then please explain in detail what the correct way is, and I will try again."

"How would I know?" Koyatl remained unmoved, her face expressionless, as if she never smiled. "Perhaps it's related to ancient magic."

"Besides, it's not me who should be anxious, it's you, Owen. I could just stay here and wait for my soul to perish, but you, are you going to die with me?"

"Ha—accompany you?" Owen gave her a disdainful look. "You've got some nerve! Where do you get the confidence to say something like that!"

Having said that, he pulled up a stool and sat closer to Miss Granger, to prevent this wicked woman from having any designs on him.

Unfortunately, this is a dreamlike illusion.

Otherwise, he would definitely have added a few more Divine Sharpness Shadowless Curses.

Fuck!

Starting tomorrow, he will give up the three unforgivable sins.

Damn it, is he having a run of bad luck this year?

The spell that was working perfectly is starting to malfunction!

Owen was a little irritated. He rubbed his temples and his gaze involuntarily swept over Hermione.

A person's luck is predetermined, and it seems that this year all his good fortune has been spent on Miss Granger.

As a result, he suffered setbacks in everything else!

"Ancient Magic—"

"A Dreamlike Realm—"

Irving took another sip of tea. "This illusion occurs because there is an inexplicable connection between the two souls."

Just like Voldemort and Harry.

The moment Voldemort used the Killing Curse to kill Harry, Harry entered the Dreamland.

Because the magic of love exists within both Harry and Voldemort.

Therefore, the Killing Curse cannot kill Harry; the only curse that can kill is the part of Harry's soul that belongs to Voldemort.

What connection could he possibly have with Koyatl?

It's nothing more than ancient magic. Could it be that the girl also possesses ancient magic, causing his killing spell to identify her as himself?

The last time he used the Mind Control Spell on her, it was the same; she even stole a portion of his ancient magic.

Is there any merit to this idea?

As he speculated, Owen felt there was some truth to it. The girl's soul had the phantom of Quetzalcoatl, and the successor's power came from the gods. Perhaps he also possessed a portion of Quetzalcoatl's power. If the magic of love were replaced with the magic of the gods, wouldn't that perfectly explain it?

Then—who died?

A killing curse has to kill something, right?

Just like Voldemort killing his own soul inside Harry.

"You just said that there is no Outer God watching here—meaning that the Killing Curse just now killed the part of your body that belonged to the Outer God?" Owen immediately deduced that this woman might be the anchor point that Dean Bridged mentioned.

"Expel—" Koyatl corrected, "Mortals cannot kill gods, they can only expel them."

As she spoke, she looked up, a hint of surprise flashing in her dark eyes. "You're even smarter than I thought. Did you figure all this out yourself?"

"Tch—anyone who isn't an idiot can guess that." Owen tossed the teacup into the air, and then, with a flash of light, the teacup vanished instantly. He looked out the window following the life-size statue of Miss Granger beside him.

The fields outside looked like a Van Gogh painting.

The thickly applied colors seem to flow, carrying an overwhelming hope for life. The beauty is unrestrained and wild, as if the painter were painting with blood, sincere and passionate.

However, due to the dawn, the rising sun obscured the stars, and although the golden light was magnificent, it lacked a certain embellishment.

Then, Irving began to try raising his hand, and the next second, the sky suddenly turned back into chaos.

The universe was dark, and fragmented stars stirred up nebulae like silt. The light of fusion flew from Owen's fingertips into the sky. He cut open his veins, and what flowed out was a sky full of stars.

From that moment on, he became the only sun in this world.

"So, you're the anchor point for Outer God? When did it find you?"

"Anchor point?" Koyatl also looked out the window.

The dramatic changes that took place there also drew her in.

What a wonderful creation.

Use the sky as a canvas and paint it with magnificent colors.

Suddenly, some starlight did not fly into the sky from Irving's hand.

Instead, he went into the room.

When she subconsciously turned around, there were suddenly many more people in the room.

The man with heterochromia was the first to step out of Starlight. He sat on the sofa, crossed his legs in a carefree manner, and looked at her with a slight smile on his lips.

Next came Dumbledore, dressed in a magnificent robe.

He sat on the sofa on the other side, and it was then that Koyatl noticed that the man hadn't been looking at her, but at Dumbledore.

Then came a girl with dreadlocks. She remembered the girl's name; it seemed to be Luna, Luna Lovegood.

Then came Harry Potter, Hannah Abbott, Ron Weasley, Justin, Neville, Cedric, Fleur, and others—and some whose names she couldn't even recall.

The once empty room suddenly became crowded.

Those people—those statues that never move.

Those things she will never have.

Koyater suddenly turned his head and said in a self-deprecating tone, "Just an anchor point for attacking this world? That description is quite fitting."

"They're all just puppets."

"Puppet—" Owen nodded.

Suddenly, he understood many things.

For example, why would she never betray them?

That's because the Outer God's attention was always on her, and she had neither the ability nor the opportunity to reveal those secrets.

But it's possible now.

Didn't she say anything?

The Outer Gods were banished.

"I've always had a question: where did you get that ancient magic from?" Owen immediately asked the most crucial question.

On the other side, upon hearing this question, Koyatl's face suddenly broke into a cruel smile, followed by an expression of hatred, disgust, and resentment, and his fingers holding the teacup turned pale.

After a long while, her expression returned to normal. "Fifty years ago, the Magical Congress of the United States discovered an ancient site in New Mexico, a tall tower."

"They discovered a condensed magic similar to mercury within the tower."

"This wouldn't normally attract the attention of the Magic Congress, but twenty years ago, a fairy claiming to be from the Fairy Brotherhood approached the then-President of the Magic Congress and explained the uses of that magic to him."

"Stop—" Owen interrupted her appropriately, "How do fairies know about ancient magic?"

"I don't know," Koyater continued, "but the enmity between fairies and heirs has existed for at least four hundred years."

"Tsk tsk—fairy." Owen said in a strange tone. "You continue—"

The beautiful morning light outside the window was suddenly stirred by a gust of wind.

The wind seems to be getting stronger.

Owen had no choice but to close the window, and then reluctantly carried Miss Granger to the sofa.

Hmm—between Grandpa and Grandma.

"The heir has been gone for too long." Koyatl didn't look at him, but continued to gaze out the window, muttering to himself.

"When the fairy discovered that magical spring, an idea came to her."

"Got it. If there's no heir, just create one yourself," Owen replied. "So you're the only one who survived the ancient magical experiments?"

Koyatl hesitated, her brow furrowed with gloom. She tried to appear calm, but her painful past pulled her toward the abyss.

"Yes." After a long pause, she finally spoke in a short voice.

"Hmm, it seems you still don't understand why Quetzalcoatl favored you?" Owen casually remarked. "How much do you know about the Outer Gods? What about the other anchor points? What are the Outer Gods' plans? Does Voldemort know? Is he colluding with the Outer Gods? Who tampered with the Goblet of Fire?"

He asked a series of questions.

But upon hearing this, Koyatl gave a mocking smile. She was mocking herself, and she was mocking him as well.

"I think you've misunderstood something," she said coldly and arrogantly. "What makes you think I'd tell you this?"

"So you can save the world?"

"Oh—do you think I'm the wizard's invisible guardian?"

"Ha—" she laughed, her eyes flashing with manic excitement. "Do you think wizards should be superior to others? Even stars will go out, but wizards should exist forever? Haha—if this evil species ever goes extinct, that will be the best news I've ever heard."

"."

Irving glanced at the crazy woman who was smiling coldly over there.

He immediately understood.

She was indeed tormented by the whispers of the Outer Gods and longed for freedom, but that doesn't mean she would develop feelings for wizards during her childhood of torment and imprisonment.

Deep down, she hoped to see Outer God destroy the world; her desire for death was simply because she couldn't bear the torment from Outer God.

These are two separate things.

Moreover, they are two parallel matters that do not overlap.

"Your idea is really good. Trash wizards are a waste of air when they're alive and a waste of land when they're dead. I think eliminating the existence of wizards is a mistake in the development of this world." Owen's eyes rolled, and his thoughts came to mind.

In an instant, a plan quietly emerged.

"Pain, despair, curses, all sins and suffering melt into chaos, allowing life to return to the age of the furnace."

To become one forever.

"That's a great idea. Let 'God' create humans in the next life! Let's see if he can create an even more perfect race."

Irving spoke, half in a frenzy and half in sarcasm.

He was mocking the god, and he was also mocking the person in front of him.

He knows these people too well.

She desperately wanted to die because she was dying of loneliness.

Although the curse that struck her head originated from herself, it was she who embraced it.

Although her cause of death was pathologically classified as suicide.

But the real killer was someone else entirely; it was called the Magic Congress.

Thinking this, he took Miss Granger's hand, calming the stirring in his heart, and changed his tone, saying, "But unfortunately, you won't be able to see these."

Although I'm not sure what effect expelling the Outer God from your body will have on you, it will probably be death.

"I love Death."

"Who wouldn't love it? I mean, don't you think it's a pity?" Owen turned to look at her earnestly. "Living in a cage from birth to death, not even allowed to have the things you love, don't you think it's a pity to go to the arms of death now?"

"Don't rush to refute," Irving said, raising his hand to stop him.

A memory palace rose from the ground in my mind.

Countless memories of ancient magic flooded in, clearly revealing how to detach from the corrupting influence of Outer Gods and how to prolong life.

"Look out the window," he said. "How long has it been since you looked up at the sky?"

Irving's voice was gradual, while Koyatl responded with silence.

She remained silent, her gaze slightly moved.

"I can save you." Owen finally said those words. "See, I am the heir after all. I have many tricks up my sleeve."

"You give me information and I'll save your life. When you get tired of living, you can commit suicide for fun. Or, you can continue to be the outward god's lackey—uh—believer—follower—revolutionary. For revolutionaries, it's about overthrowing the wizards!"

Or perhaps you're seeking revenge against the wizards and fairies who caused you pain in the past.

Chop them into minced meat and feed them to the dogs.

How is it?

"Do whatever you like. I just don't believe you don't have anything to do."

Irving spoke at length, his tone carrying a powerful allure.

He saw the resentment in Koyatl's eyes stir up a storm.

As the famous American poet Emily Dickinson wrote in a short poem: I could have endured the darkness if I had never seen the sun, but the sunlight has made my desolation a newer desolation.

If that killing curse had killed her directly, Owen thought, the girl in front of him would have gone to meet death with a happy, relieved expression.

But—she was here now, and at this moment she clearly felt the scent of freedom, the smell of oil stains and mold in the room, and the smell of damp, fresh grass in the fields.

It smells like roses.

It's the feeling of opening your arms and embracing the wind when a gentle breeze blows, your hair flying everywhere, like embracing the world. It's the taste of freedom.

Living things have an instinct to resist death.

Even the girl in front of me.

Irving noticed her hesitation, but he wasn't in a rush. "You can take some time to think it over carefully."

"I need to figure out a way to get out of here first."

(End of this chapter)