I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 334 Harry: You don't have to die!

Hagrid has not yet finished his accusations against Buddy Crouch.

He spoke quickly, with a sense of urgency, "He even escalated the conflict between Owen and that Koyatir to the point of being blamed on Dumbledore's mismanagement, and some minor squabbles among the young wizards—basically, all trivial matters!"

"He accused Dumbledore of many crimes, which were completely fabricated."

"Oh! And you guys too." Hagrid suddenly looked at Harry and the group of young wizards present. "This year's fight between you and Ilfamori has also become his excuse to attack Dumbledore. This competition was poorly organized. I never expected it to end like this."

Just then, Irving walked over.

He distributed the food to the young wizards, and when he handed it to Harry last, he received a big eye roll from Hagrid.

"I hope you learn your lesson," he said sternly to Owen. "Don't use dark magic on other people indiscriminately!"

Hearing this, Irving nodded.

Yes, yes, yes!

From now on, I'll only use Source Magic!

Irving didn't care about this, but he still needed to shift the focus. He couldn't afford to become the target of everyone's criticism.

Then he turned to look at Koyatl, who was munching on a meat pie.

A stern, old-fashioned voice rang out, "Didn't you hear me? Don't use dark magic on people indiscriminately!"

Irving said, "I really want to kick you out when the door key is transferred!"

If you weren't with Furong and the others!

"???"

Koyatl impatiently looked up at Owen, then raised his free left hand and gave him a gesture of international friendship.

Then, Irving returned the favor with one of his own.

"Oh, right! Yesterday at Azkaban," Harry suddenly said.

He was still worried about his godfather and the other wizards who had arrived.

If they are injured or killed—then in a sense, they have killed themselves.

"It's resolved." Hagrid turned his head, seemingly sensing Harry's inner struggle. He patted Harry's head and said, "They retreated quickly; they were all gone in an instant."

"None of our people were injured."

"Oh--"

And no one was injured.

Owen was certain that none of the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic were among the "our people" Hagrid was referring to.

"Forget Crouch, Hagrid, talk about Mrs. Maxime. I saw her join the fight against the Death Eaters yesterday. How come Beauxbatons has completely sided with Dumbledore?" Owen suddenly asked. "Eulallie Hicks is understandable; she's always been a Dumbledore loyalist, she's my grandmother."

Honestly, I have no idea what she's thinking, but she's kind of an assistant left behind by Grandpa in the castle to help Dumbledore—it's a bit strange, but I can understand it.

Maybe she did it for me?

They say hitting someone is a sign of affection, and scolding someone is a sign of love. Is her constant talk of killing me actually a different kind of love?

"." Hagrid, Harry, and the others in the room all looked at Owen with a rather speechless expression.

His family relationships are truly unusual!

After a long pause, Hagrid finally spoke, "Orim has indeed agreed to Dumbledore's request."

"Wait? Who is Orim?" Owen and Harry asked in unison.

"It's Mrs. Maxim, of course," Hagrid said matter-of-factly.

But after saying that, he felt a little embarrassed, so he quickly distributed the rock cakes he had brought to everyone, even though no one wanted to eat them. "Dumbledore has found a job for me and her."

"He wants to contact the giants and wants us to do this, to deliver a message to them. Orim will come with me too; I convinced her. We'll work together and set off to find the hidden giants."

"Giants? Abnormal species?" Owen suddenly asked.

"?" Hagrid looked at him in confusion, not understanding what he meant.

"Uh—nothing, I meant, where are all those giants?"

"I don't know, maybe somewhere in Eastern Europe. My mother—" Hagrid paused, remained silent for a moment, and then continued, "But recently, there have been reports of giants in other places as well. We still need time to investigate carefully where the largest gathering place of giants is."

"I see."

Owen sat by Miss Granger's bedside, leaning against the headboard.

He didn't know much about giants.

All I know is that these creatures once ravaged the entire European continent and were later defeated and driven out by wizards. Of course, this was also related to their own warlike and brutal nature. Even if the wizards hadn't intervened, their numbers would have gradually decreased. The wizards simply accelerated this process.

It seems that the gradually shrinking giant race must have become many tribes of varying sizes, scattered throughout the European continent. Dumbledore clearly hoped that Hagrid and his companions would find the largest one.

"Harry!"

At that moment, the door to the school clinic was pushed open again.

It's Sirius Black, and it's Dumbledore.

They walked straight over.

Sirius looked pale and listless, with a hint of fatigue in his eyes.

It seems he hasn't slept since yesterday.

"Sirius!" Harry was excited to see that familiar figure. He sat up in bed, but a sudden feeling of exhaustion made him fall back down.

"Don't move!" Sirius came to Harry's bedside, put his right hand on his shoulder, "Lie down, what you need now is rest."

A genuine connection flashed in his eyes, which made Harry feel safe and touched.

Like a wronged child seeing his parents, just a day ago he could bravely fight against Voldemort, but now he felt a lump in his throat.

"Well done, son," Dumbledore said gently as he approached. "Your courage has far exceeded my expectations, but I hope you will show your courage once again and tell us everything that happened yesterday."

What happened after the door key was transferred?

"Yes, Professor!"

Harry took a deep breath and began to tell them.

As he spoke, everything that had happened yesterday flashed before his eyes like a movie: he saw the potion that had brought Voldemort back to life, its surface sparking; he saw the grim smiles on the Death Eaters' faces; he saw the deaths of countless Muggles; and he saw Owen's ridiculously powerful spell.

On one or two occasions, especially when Harry recounted the nearly one hundred Muggles who had their souls extracted and died, Sirius made a small sound, as if trying to say something, his hand still gripping Harry's shoulder tightly.

But Dumbledore raised a hand and stopped him.

This made Harry feel fortunate, because everything is difficult at the beginning, and now that he had started talking, it was much easier to continue.

He even felt a sense of relief, as if some kind of poison was being slowly drawn out of his body.

He mustered immense willpower to continue speaking, but he felt much more at ease once he finished.

Sirius let out an excited shout when Harry recounted how the Death Eaters stabbed him and Hermione in the arms with daggers.

Although their wounds had long since healed, the horrific memories and the bloody sensation remained as vivid as if they had just been there.

"He came back to life with my blood and Hermione's blood. Voldemort is stronger now, I can feel it," Harry told Dumbledore. "The power my mother left me—he wants it too."

"But Hermione—" Harry turned to look at Hermione's bedside and saw Owen looking at him teasingly, while Hermione leaned against Owen, her face slightly flushed, and ate a pie.

"He's got the wrong person!" Irving said.

Just now, in that instant, when Harry said that Voldemort had used his blood to resurrect himself, a glint of joy flashed in Dumbledore's eyes.

He was happy because Harry could live.

"Wrong person?" Harry was puzzled, but he vaguely guessed that Voldemort should have captured Owen, but he thought it was Hermione.

Although he didn't know what was different about Irving's blood.

Could it be that he's like me?

"Very good," Dumbledore nodded and continued, "Voldemort has overcome that extraordinary obstacle. Harry, please continue."

Harry continued. He recounted how Voldemort emerged from the darkness and told them what he remembered Voldemort saying to the Death Eaters.

That was about it. Owen broke free from Bella's spell, then used a spell called "Fire Shield" to save them, and then used another spell to blow up the entire top of Azkaban's tower.

Then, the professors arrived.

"You broke free from Bella's Legilimency?" Sirius looked at Owen with some surprise. That was no ordinary spell. Although it was not as powerful as the Imperius Curse, very few people could resist it by their own will alone.

"Yes! What's wrong? It's very simple, is there anyone who can't break free?"

Owen raised his eyebrows, holding a bowl of pumpkin porridge in both hands, and was feeding Miss Granger.

But he wouldn't let it go and continued, "No way, no way! You can do that with your hands!"

"."

Sirius withdrew his gaze and focused all his attention back on Harry; he didn't want to discuss this topic with Owen.

Since the only way to resist the Soul-Seizing Spell is to learn the Brain-Occupying Technique, he certainly knew the spell.

As a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he also learned this spell to prevent falling into the hands of Death Eaters and exposing his secrets.

How old was I when I learned this spell?

Seventeen or eighteen?

And look at Kyrie Irving now?

Tsk—he had always thought he was very talented in magic, whether it was Animagus or various kinds of Defense Against the Dark Arts, he could win with ease, but now the young wizards were all surprisingly excellent.

Sirius kept having the illusion that he was already old.

Dumbledore, when he looked at Owen, had more of a relieved expression on his face.

Yes—thankfully the child arrived in time.

Fortunately, he went to Azkaban with them.

Otherwise—he truly didn't know what unpredictable disaster might occur.

As for the two spells Irving used.

This child is growing up too fast.

Dumbledore could assert that something must have happened during the three months he was unconscious.

"Well, I think I need to review this again," Dumbledore said solemnly, addressing Harry and everyone in the infirmary. "You all showed great courage tonight, far exceeding my expectations of young wizards. The courage you displayed is on par with that of the wizards who fought Voldemort to the death during his heyday."

You have taken on the heavy responsibility of being adult wizards and found that you are fully capable of carrying this burden—which gives me even higher expectations for you.

Now, calm down and rest for a while... Sirius, would you like to stay with him?

Sirius nodded.

Then Dumbledore got up and walked to the school doctor's office.

Actually, he also wanted to talk to Irving about his experiences over the past three months.

But now is clearly not the right time.

The young wizards have just experienced a war.

He only needs to know what's most urgent; as for Irving's experiences, we can discuss them later.

Meanwhile, Hagrid left after chatting with Harry for a while longer.

He seemed quite anxious—it was unclear whether he was genuinely concerned about the task Dumbledore had assigned him, or about the excellent opportunity to have a private date with Mrs. Maxime.

After Hagrid left, Sirius didn't stay long either, as he had other matters to attend to, and the battle in Azkaban needed to have a sequel.

Besides, he needed to rest himself, so after promising Harry that he would take him out during the summer vacation, he left.

Unfortunately, Hannah, Ron, and Justin couldn't get in; presumably, the professors wouldn't allow other junior wizards to disturb them.

But that's okay. They can chat quietly to themselves.

The cacophony of voices gave Harry, who had escaped his torment, a sudden illusion that he had returned to the human world.

He seemed to be in pretty good spirits, perhaps because he was really oblivious. While Cho Chang and Gabriel were still asleep, he was able to chat quietly with the others (Cedric).

But none of this has anything to do with Irving. Even if he's in top form.

He was finally able to sleep peacefully last night.

Those terrible dreams in my head vanished.

This is a joy worth sharing, and Irving plans to share it with Hermione.

In a way, Hermione was quite lucky. Because she looked so weak, Voldemort never took her seriously and therefore didn't torture her.

He continued feeding Hermione.

Irving stopped when she absolutely couldn't eat anymore.

She still looked a little weak, but her spirits were good. Her eyes were bright as she looked at him, unwilling to look away.

Meanwhile, Harry and his friends finally steered the conversation toward Owen.

—Because few people in the ward were in the mood for conversation. Cho Chang and Gabrielle were still asleep, but their complexions looked rosy, so they should be fine. Hibiscus was completely focused on her younger sister.

Meanwhile, Krum and the Durmstrang witch stared blankly at the ceiling.

They clearly haven't recovered from last night's fear.

Cedric did have the mood to say a few words to Harry, but it was clear that his attention was more focused on Cho Chang.

After looking around, the only person Harry could talk to was Owen.

—Harry automatically ignored Koyatl.

He immediately began asking Irving what he had experienced in the past three months.

Owen didn't keep them in suspense and told Harry and Hermione directly that he was trapped in a mental realm called the Mystic Realm.

It took him a long time to get out of there.

Harry didn't understand what the Mystic Realm was, but Hermione memorized the term and planned to go to the library every now and then to look through the books and see if she could find any clues.

Then everyone started telling him about the interesting things that had happened during this time. The whispers disturbed the true owner of the school infirmary, Mrs. Pomfrey.

She strode into the room with an imposing aura that seemed to reach eighty feet.

His gaze was piercing, carrying the force of thunder and lightning.

At a glance, the demons and monsters on the hospital bed immediately shut their mouths.

Harry lay back, closed his eyes, and pretended to sleep.

Owen, on the other hand, quickly pulled back Hermione's covers, then nimbly got out of bed and ran back to his own. He pulled the covers over himself and lay down.

Start counting sheep.

After this, Mrs. Pomfrey's complexion improved slightly.

Then, in a serious tone, she forbade them from whispering to each other, at least not today.

All they have to do today is sleep.

As she spoke, she brought out many strange and wonderful potions.

After preparing a cup for everyone.

He watched them drink it before leaving, satisfied.

And what about the young wizards?

They all seemed to have been hit on the head with a stick, and immediately became listless.

He began a life of debauchery and decadence.

For a whole week!

A whole week!

The young wizards, especially Harry, Hermione, Cho Chang, and Gabrielle, were forced to rest for a whole week by Madam Pomfrey.

They were only let go after that.

As the new week began, Harry felt like he was about to sprout roots and grow new shoots.

He finally left the hospital.

Meanwhile, the situation within the Ministry of Magic was undergoing a subtle but profound transformation.

First was the offensive against Azkaban.

The Daily Prophet naturally lavished praise on the Aurors' bravery and fearlessness, making no mention of how their lax management allowed Voldemort to infiltrate for months without their knowledge.

Owen, however, learned from Sirius that Voldemort seemed to know Dumbledore was coming and had made preparations in advance, retreating in an orderly manner while fighting his way out of Azkaban.

At least in his eyes, he had withdrawn.

He suspected that Snape had secretly tipped them off. This was a golden opportunity to wipe out the Death Eaters, but in the end, they gained nothing.

Secondly, there was a subtle form of public opinion manipulation. In the following days, The Daily Prophet subtly smeared Dumbledore and questioned his leadership abilities.

And they attributed all the unexpected events that happened throughout the year to him.

Especially the two children who were tormented by Voldemort, Cho Chang and Gabriel, almost became representatives of the young wizards.

Someone took a picture of the two of them writhing in pain on their hospital bed.

This immediately angered the parents.

The letters of accountability, falling like snowflakes, were delivered to the principal's office by the owls.

Even Professor McGonagall has been giving Professor Dumbledore the cold shoulder lately.

(End of this chapter)