I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 319 After he left, the pain began to pierce the ears.

The curse rebound incident that happened to Irving and Koyatl is far from simple.

There has only been one instance in history where the Killing Curse bounced back: Harry's mother's love bounced back Voldemort's Killing Curse.

Now, the former example is right before Dumbledore's eyes.

Looking at Harry rushing over.

The old principal frowned.

Within a week, the wrinkles on his face had increased significantly.

He didn't believe the healers at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries could possibly have any solutions.

"But—" Miss Granger looked up, her face pale and haggard.

She looks thinner than she did two weeks ago.

The cheeks even showed obvious hollows.

The sorrow between his brows was like an indelible ink stain, a deep mark left by the pen of reality.

That face touched Dumbledore slightly. He reached out and patted Hermione's shoulder, saying softly, "It's good to be young, to still have time to feel the sting of love."

"But I want to say, it's just a sting, Granger." He withdrew his hand and winked at her. "Just bear with it."

After saying that, he turned to leave, "Oh! By the way..."

Suddenly remembering something, he turned around and said, "After the funeral, please have Mr. Weasley come to my office."

Perhaps there were just too many Mr. Weasleys today, Dumbledore added, "Have Ron come to my office."

The old headmaster saw the whole process through the memories of the young wizards, Ron and Koyatl, in the Pensieve.

The flashback spell with its intertwined arcs of electricity shocked him.

Unraveling the secret connection between the two of them might help Irving recover from his coma.

"Professor!" Hermione tried to persuade him again, but Dumbledore had already taken a step forward.

She just stood there, watching him walk away.

They did not continue forward.

She knew she might be being unreasonable, but—she had to find something to do.

she.

She doesn't seem to love Irving.

When she crawled out of the castle's pipes and learned the news from Ginny, she felt no sadness or pain.

What kind of feeling is that?

She wanted to cry but couldn't; she was as calm as if there was nothing in the world she cared about.

Ginny said, "He's gone."

"Harry said he was under the Killing Curse."

That night, she stayed by Irving's bedside alone all night, and every professor or friend she met would say words of "take care" to her.

But what about her?

She opened her dazed eyes from beside the hospital bed, weak and calm, and watched as a group of therapists in white coats rushed into the school clinic.

They skillfully lifted the person off the hospital bed, and then, as if the wind had blown away dust, left her in the medical room.

The door closed again.

Everything fell silent.

In the days that followed, Hermione didn't waste a single moment, but devoted all her time to finding a way to breathe underwater.

She had practically devoured all the magic spells in Hogwarts' library that contained terms related to water or underwater.

But nothing was gained.

Finally, late at night on the third day, while sorting through her findings in her dormitory, she accidentally knocked over the tall parchment scroll that was lying beside her.

A book fell out—a manuscript.

It was a spellcasting technique and analysis of these three spells that Owen wrote a few months ago when he was teaching her Source Magic.

She picked up the scattered pages and saw at the end, in a handwriting deliberately mimicking Dumbledore's, with several circles drawn at the end of each word.

"Important people write like this."

He often says that.

And that line read—If you ever want to go scuba diving in the Black Lake, try the head-diving spell.

Or this one.

A thick parchment was tucked into the last page. When she opened it, the text inside contained a potion recipe.

Its name is: "Lung-Invigorating Decoction".

Miss Granger held the parchment in her hand; perhaps due to the weather, the parchment was somewhat damp, as if water droplets had been placed on it.

From the fourth day onward, Miss Granger began preparing the herbs needed for this recipe.

Lung-Invigorating Decoction – a miraculous underwater breathing potion whose preparation difficulty is no less than that of compound decoctions.

It can fill the wizard's lungs with cavities, each containing oxygen for several hours.

This is a magic potion that wizards use specifically to explore the seabed. Its effects last for days, and even the worst product can keep a wizard underwater for three or four days without needing to breathe.

Of course, the surprising results also mean that the cooking process is difficult.

The ingredients for the lung-activating decoction alone require more than twenty kinds.

Sixteen of them are extremely rare.

This includes Gillbaghina.

But this didn't stump Owen, nor did it stump Hermione.

She got those materials from the usual place.

Then, alone in a cubicle in the girls' restroom on the third floor, he tried to brew this magic potion.

To that end, she transformed the toilet in the cubicle into a table and the pipes into a shelf.

A wide variety of herbs were displayed on the shelves.

She stood on a footstool, took out a bronze crucible from her bosom, and then skillfully waved her wand to conjure a ball of fire.

"Once the crucible reaches a moderate temperature, you can test it with your hand. It should be at a temperature where your palm feels just warm when you put your hand into the crucible."

Several sheets of parchment were pinned to the shelf, and Hermione cut up the one he had kept.

She looked up and then reached into the crucible.

Once the temperature is comfortable against your palm, add the Billie Wegger stinger.

Next, he took out a bottle of fresh water.

"Pour yourself down close to the edge of the crucible. PS: Put on the prepared mask."

It was written on the parchment.

And that's exactly what she did, pouring the running water into the crucible along the edge. Instantly, a pungent odor rose from the crucible, making her nose sting.

Only then did she put on her mask, and after the mucus had boiled for a minute, she poured in the ground catfish bones.

The powder was put into the pot, and soon the pungent smell and boiling crucible calmed down.

Meanwhile, she simmered it over low heat, and during this process, she also had to prepare other ingredients.

"Crush and grind the antennae of the Motra rat with a stone; do not cut them with a knife."

"Add about 20 grams of scallions."

"Wear gloves when squeezing grass branches and leaves, or your hands will be purple in a week."

"You don't need to add too much Fire Ash Snake eggshell powder; you can use silver powder instead. Fire Ash Snake eggshell powder is too expensive. (laughs)"

A funny smiley face appeared on the parchment.

Her hand froze slightly.

Then let go.

The next moment, the silver dust, like a shattered dream, shimmered with mottled light and disappeared into the dark tide.

This will last for three hours.

Every ten minutes, she would add a new ingredient.

After three hours, she reduced the heat to a simmer and then stirred it clockwise every five minutes.

"You're not really going to stir it for four hours, are you?" His handwriting on the parchment grew increasingly damp.

That's really strange, isn't it?

It no longer snows at Hogwarts.

"Miss Granger, cast the spell!"

"Let the glass rod move on its own."

Four hours later.

Its daybreak.

After her final stirring, the potion in the crucible had turned a deep blue, with a consistency similar to water.

After turning off the heat, she dripped styrax syrup onto the water, stirring ten times clockwise and counterclockwise for each drop, which made her arms feel heavy and tired. But she seemed not to care.

After all thirty drops have been added, the potion will become viscous again and stick to the stirring stick.

Finally, simmer over low heat for another five minutes, then add the last herb, gill sac grass.

The finished product is a scarlet potion with a slightly fishy smell and a bit of viscosity.

"Is it scarlet? And has a slightly fishy smell? If so, you've succeeded."

"It's not that difficult, right? It's just that the steps are too complicated and tedious. Compared to compound decoctions that need to be decocted for a week, it seems much easier."

"Do you know why? It's because my buddy modified the formula! Snape wasn't the only one who modified potion recipes; he was a half-breed, and I'm a half-breed!"

Sure enough, it was written in the corner of the parchment: This recipe belongs to—Prince Amusement.

Hermione lowered her eyes.

In her crucible, there was a viscous substance that looked like a lump of silt.

And the color is wrong, it's blue.

"PS: It's okay if you fail. Snape has plenty of supplies anyway. When you enter, tap the first brick on the right-hand wall twice, pause for three seconds, then tap it twice more. It will open automatically. Inside is Snape's little treasure trove. I counted, there are 2,347 Galleons. If he runs out of supplies, he can use them to buy materials."

"P.S.: Ahem—don't really spend money recklessly. If it's a little, he probably won't notice, but if it's too much, I'll have to cover it up."

"P.S.: If you need to buy materials, ask George and Fred. They have connections. Some rare materials are not sold in normal potion shops."

P.S.: Don't worry, let's try again.

Yes, let's do it again.

After a day of classes.

Hermione then returned to the place.

Same steps, same materials.

But it failed again, only this time the color of the entire field was different. It was green.

Day three.

Having removed her invisibility cloak, she continued to guard the cubicle, watching the fire in the stove.

Maybe I stirred it too much?

Fourth day.

The color is yellow.

Day .

blue.

Six days.

The bathroom was filled with the strong smell of stimulants.

It's sweet; that's the new flavor that Irving improved.

The whole room smelled of him.

Today is her last chance.

Snape has been staying in his storeroom since yesterday and hasn't gone anywhere, not even skipping classes.

This is the first time in fourteen years.

So this is her last chance.

The glass rod is being stirred in the crucible.

Then she started counting from the beginning: two, three, five, six, seven, eight.

She was certain she had counted to ten.

She added the final ingredients.

But what's in the crucible is still a lump of mud.

Hermione stood by the cauldron as if she were in a trance, watching the fire slowly simmer.

"Don't be afraid, try again."

"Thump~~~"

Water droplets fell into the crucible.

The viscous potion turned green.

Then another drop.

The potion turned yellow.

Then came cyan.

As water droplets fell into the crucible, the potion continuously changed color.

Then—it was like a storm about to break, and the person holding the umbrella could no longer withstand it.

"ah--"

A scream came from the girls' restroom.

Then came the sound of metal hitting marble.

The sticky potion was spilled all over the floor, and its pungent smell diluted the scent of the stimulant in the bathroom.

Now—only pain remains.

------------

"Granger!" A voice suddenly came from behind the little witch.

It was Percy, who walked over with a gaunt face.

"Ginny told me you saved her?"

"Owen saved her; I only helped a little," Hermione said indifferently, her mind elsewhere.

“But Ginny said it was you.” Percy patted her shoulder, looking at her with great gratitude. “I really want to thank you, our whole family thanks you, my God! You have no idea how shocked I was when I heard about what happened to Ginny and Ron.”

"That's Hogwarts, and that's my sister."

"What if something happens to my sister—" Percy suddenly choked up, as if the words were stuck in his throat and he couldn't get them out.

"Don't talk nonsense." Mrs. Weasley walked over from behind.

She was wearing a pure brown linen robe. During the summer vacation, she was a vibrant witch, but now, upon closer inspection, one could see that her eyes were somewhat sunken and there was a strand of white hair at her temples.

She stepped forward, embraced Hermione, gave her a big, warm hug, and said enthusiastically, "Have you healed Ginny and Ron? They look much healthier than their brother."

"I really should give you something." With that, she released Hermione's shoulders and pulled a badge from her large pocket. It was a sunflower-shaped badge, each sunflower seed a different color, a vibrant tapestry of colors. It had a rich, warm summer feel to it.

"No, it was Owen who healed them both. I didn't do anything about it," Hermione said, stunned.

"Then you deserve it too." Mrs. Weasley practically forced the badge into Hermione's hand, then reached out and stroked the girl's thin cheek.

"For Kyrie Irving," she said.

Mrs. Weasley knew what it felt like to lose someone.

She was just like the girl in front of her when her brother died, when he was killed by the Death Eaters.

Numb and at a loss.

It felt as if a part of myself had suddenly been taken away, like losing my hands.

After losing them, when not using your hands, it seems like nothing has changed, but once you raise your arm, the severed stump will remind you again and again.

You lost both hands, and lost them forever, never to be made up for or found again. It's like a hole in your soul. When the wind blows through the hole, the noisy sound it makes will constantly remind you that a piece of your soul is missing.

Such persistent and prolonged pain will gradually wear a person down.

Either until death, or get used to the gap in the soul that the wind will pass through.

To coexist with it.

Mrs. Weasley was the latter.

She was used to life without her brother; her other family members filled that void. But she didn't know if the girl in front of her could, or if she would ever have the chance, fill that void.

Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of all this.

It almost burst out of my eyes.

She lowered her head, took Hermione's hands in hers, and looked into her eyes as if a torrential downpour was falling.

Hot tears streamed down his nose and landed on the ground.

She wasn't crying for herself.

It was for Hermione, for this young girl who was experiencing pain far too early.

"Mom." Percy quickly knelt down and patted his mother's back, while Mrs. Weasley nestled into her son's arms.

"Oh my God—you're all so young." She wailed, her uncontrollable emotions finding an outlet.

The shouts were deeply moving.

In the kitchen, in front of the elves.

"Sniff!" Dobby covered his handkerchief, hugged Harry's leg as he came out, and cried out loudly.

Tears and snot cannot be contained by a small handkerchief.

So in no time, Harry's legs and feet were wet.

But Harry himself didn't realize it. His messy hair was sticking out haphazardly, his bow tie was simply hanging around his neck, and his shirt was tied in the wrong order, which was especially noticeable from the collar.

His glasses were filthy.

It was covered in dust and unknown stains.

Suddenly, Harry remembered something.

In second grade, someone cast a permanent water and fire immunization spell and a cleansing spell on his glasses.

How long has it been since I've worried about my glasses getting dirty?

And the pocket in his arms

It still contained the glasses he had given me.

"Mom—" At this moment, Ron and the others also came over.

The Weasleys were reunited.

The atmosphere became exceptionally somber.

This continued for a very long time.

Molly only pulled her head out of Percy's arms after Mr. Arthur patted them on the shoulder to indicate that the elves around them were still watching.

She wiped away her tears and forced a smile.

She didn't want the children to lose face at school because of her.

Although no one present would think so.

Those present offered her a few words of comfort.

The group left the kitchen together.

On the spiral staircase leading to the auditorium, Percy parted ways with his family.

Since he was here, Barty Crouch was naturally here as well. The Minister of Magic was currently in New Hogsmeade, discussing matters with officials from the United States, since some of their Ivermony students were also involved in the incident.

The weather in early February was no longer as cold as in the depths of winter, and the earth showed signs of melting.

This made the road from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade Village muddy and difficult to navigate.

From afar, Percy saw Hermione following along, along with Harry.

However, they didn't come to find him.

They probably just came out for some fresh air.

That's what Percy thought.

The meeting place he arranged with the minister was on the second floor of the Three Brooms Bar.

They need to find a place to receive the group of Americans first, gauge their opinion, and then go to Hogwarts.

Otherwise, it would be truly embarrassing if something happened in the castle, since there are now three schools in the castle.

After passing the Screaming Shack, Hogsmeade Village came into view in the distance.

At that moment, Percy suddenly stopped.

He changed direction because just now, he seemed to have seen a familiar figure in the woods.

"He wants that girl!"

A sharp, sweet, and somewhat cloying sound came from the woods.

Percy knew who it was just from a glance: Dolores Umbridge.

(End of this chapter)