I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 360 Hack: I advise you not to be our enemy!

After flipping through a few pages, Mr. Huck tossed it aside.

These are just minor matters; the government will secretly fill in the gaps in these people's comings and goings.

MI6 should take the lead in handling this.

Now, his concern is not for these few dozen people, but for—the cook—oops—the Mediterranean disaster.

According to American intelligence, the disaster has caused at least several thousand deaths and affected hundreds of thousands of people along the Mediterranean coast. The floods have struck Mediterranean countries, Italy, Greece, the island nation of Malta, and the North African countries of Egypt and Tunisia. The floods have destroyed many cities and some Roman-era relics that the British Museum cannot move.

The losses are incalculable.

The whole of Europe is paying attention to this.

Britain must take action on this matter and cannot allow Germany and France to continue to control the EU.

However, the mere mention of this matter gives him a headache.

By 1995, the British Empire could no longer be described as being on its last legs.

That's like a poor person opening the door to another poor person; all they see is poverty.

The Falklands War of 82 was arguably the last glorious moment for the Royal Navy.

But this is a shameful thing to talk about. For a South American country like Argentina to dare to challenge Britain is embarrassing in itself. Winning is normal, but losing means Britain will be expelled from the EU and join the ranks of third-world countries.

In the 1990s, the Royal Navy retired all its large and medium-sized aircraft carriers, retaining only three Invincible-class light aircraft carriers, and significantly reduced the size of its other ships.

In the past, the American North Atlantic Fleet would never have been allowed to roam freely in the Atlantic!

Therefore, Mr. Hack wanted to make a move on this matter.

Send a fleet into the Mediterranean to restore the glory of the British Empire.

Unfortunately—that was just his opinion.

"Sigh!" she sighed softly.

The Prime Minister looked at Humphrey, about to speak.

Suddenly, a green flame burst into flame behind him, where the fireplace had originally been used only as decoration.

Then a man dressed in a black robe and top hat, with a resolute expression, came out of the fireplace.

This strange scene startled Mr. Huck, who quickly stood up, but after a few seconds of shock, he sat down again. He had seen this scene once before.

On the night he first moved into Downing Street and became Prime Minister, the other party appeared suddenly in the same way, and Bernard was also present that time.

"Why are there still unrelated people here? I clearly notified you—" Buddy Krach stood there, frowning, and spoke with extreme arrogance.

"I am not obligated to obey your notice, and I have the right to decide who can enter my house (Downing Street). At least the two gentlemen here know to knock before entering someone else's room, unlike some who just pop out."

Upon hearing this, Bernard, on the other side of the desk, immediately smiled and tightened his bow tie, while Sir Humphrey—was still offline.

"..." Barty Crouch, too lazy to argue with this foolish Muggle leader, cut to the chase and said, "You already know about what happened in Italy! The Federation is asking all Muggle governments to cooperate in handling this matter."

This involves millions of Muggles; you must come up with a comprehensive plan to help us cover it up.

"Cover it up?" Upon hearing this, Prime Minister Haque felt a surge of anger rise to his head.

Compared to the morally vacuum-bound Cabinet Secretary Sir Humphrey, Mr. Harker still possessed some moral remnants, though few, which occasionally tormented his equally meager conscience.

What does it mean to have millions of people affected by the disaster?

Europe has not experienced such a massive catastrophe since World War II.

Instead of helping, they came to him asking him to cover up the disaster that was entirely caused by the wizard himself.

Haha—Mr. Hack felt he should apologize to Sir Humphrey.

Compared to the wizard in front of him, he was practically a living saint!

He was about to explode—but just then—there was a knock on his office door.

The eyes of all four people present turned to that direction.

They saw the door being pushed open.

An elderly man with silver-white hair, a snow-white beard that reached his waist and could even be tucked into his belt, blue eyes, wearing crescent-shaped glasses, and a floor-length purple cloak walked in.

Dumbledore!

"Looks like I've come at just the right time," he said calmly, stepping into the room and gently closing the door behind him.

Upon seeing this, Mr. Hack immediately guessed the other party's identity.

He stood up, extended his hand to shake Dumbledore's, and then said with a smile, "Welcome, Mr. Chairman."

As the Prime Minister of the British Empire and a veteran politician, Mr. Harker possesses a remarkably high level of political acumen.

These two wizards.

One of them is the Minister for Magic of the United Kingdom.

The other is the president of the International Federation of Wizards.

The minister was just saying—the Federation's demands.

The superior-subordinate relationship is very clear!

Mr. Huck's enthusiasm immediately angered Barty Crach, who was the Minister of Magic!

However, being a veteran politician himself, Crouch did not show his anger; his expression remained unchanged.

"Hello," said Dumbledore. "However, I prefer to be called Headmaster, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, rather than President."

"Yes—teaching and nurturing students is much easier than governing a country," Mr. Hack said enthusiastically.

However, these words caused Dumbledore's expression to become slightly unnatural for a moment. He said with some emotion, "That's not necessarily true."

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the two sides sat down on opposite sides of the long table.

Sir Humphrey took a long detour to Mr. Huck's side and sat down next to him.

The situation is unclear, and he's not entirely sure, so he'll observe for a while before making a decision.

The room fell silent. His pleas had come to nothing, and old Crouch immediately spoke again, reiterating, "The Muggle government must assist us."

But before he could finish speaking, Mr. Harker interrupted him, turning to Sir Humphrey and saying, "Humphrey, who's in charge of the British government, the British Cabinet or the President of the United States? Why do we need another minister now?"

Upon hearing this, Sir Humphrey tilted his head back, his lips moved, and he leaned back slightly. "That's an interesting question."

He smiled and continued, "The secretaries often discuss this issue."

"What was the final result?"

"I admit I'm a bit of a heretic, I think of the British Cabinet, but—" Sir Humphrey smiled knowingly, "I know I belong to the minority."

As an important ballistic missile launch site for the United States, the British have a very accurate understanding of their own position.

"What do you mean!" Old Crouch glared at Mr. Huck.

"What do you mean?" After being repeatedly belittled, even the usually mild-mannered Mr. Harker was angered. He turned to Crouch and said coldly, "What I mean is that the US North Atlantic Fleet and the NATO joint fleet have entered the Mediterranean Sea, and the British, French, Italian and German forces have also arrived in the disaster-stricken cities. If necessary, the NATO countries will take strong measures."

Others may not know, but how could the countries that possess satellites not know?

The hurricane in the Mediterranean was not a natural phenomenon at all; it was most likely caused by so-called "magic," otherwise the Minister of Magic would not have come here in person.

If they can destroy that inconspicuous little island in the eye of the storm, stopping the so-called magic, then the hurricane will naturally subside.

The water temperature in the Mediterranean Sea is not high enough to generate hurricanes.

Even if the hurricane doesn't disappear by then, as long as the magic is destroyed and the hurricane becomes a normal hurricane, it will be fine. A flowing storm will eventually dissipate naturally, unlike now, when it's stuck in the western waters of Italy.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, sir." Mr. Harker stood up and looked at him coldly. At this moment, it was as if Winston Churchill had possessed him. He, who was usually suppressed by the civil service, was now bursting out with an amazing aura. "You wizards have gone too far this time."

Also, watch your attitude!

You are speaking with the British Prime Minister!

I advise you not to try to be an enemy of the Queen, not to try to be an enemy of the British government, and certainly not to try to be an enemy of the 58 million British citizens.

If you want this planet to become uninhabitable for humans.

Threat!

A blatant threat.

And it's a nuclear threat!

Although the wizard in front of me may not understand what a nuclear threat is.

But old Krach doesn't understand. Does anyone else?

Dumbledore was well aware that Muggles possessed a powerful weapon capable of destroying the Earth's surface, and that its principle was said to be derived from a star hundreds of millions of kilometers away.

During the years when he and Grindelwald were going through a breakup.

The other party used this weapon to incite wizards' fear of Muggles, thereby achieving their goal.

"Calm down, Mr. Prime Minister." Dumbledore's expression turned serious.

He didn't come here solely for those few dozen people in London.

The International Federation of Wizards sent a liaison to inform him that a few days ago, the Muggle army had been very active, and dozens of warships of various sizes had entered the Mediterranean Sea.

This has made the already chaotic situation in the area even worse.

He must do his best to ease tensions between the two sides. At this time, the focus should be on providing assistance and avoiding unnecessary conflict.

"I am perfectly calm, Headmaster." The Prime Minister sat back down in his chair.

He turned to look at the wizard who held a lofty, even supreme, position in the magical world, his face revealing a hint of excitement, as if some kind of glory was within reach. "I've never been so calm before."

The same scene also took place in the offices of the top leaders of major European and American powers such as the United States, France, Germany, and Italy.

Of course, the situation for those liaisons of the federation was not much better than that of old Crouch.

They were facing at least a regional power that controlled a territory, not to mention a world empire. The fact that those leaders didn't directly order their agents to secretly shoot the wizard was already a sign of restraint.

They wanted them to obey the wizard's orders.

No way—dude, how many drinks did you have? You're already this drunk?

Why not try adding some cephalosporin, and embrace a sweet, eternal sleep where you can dream of anything?

Thankfully, it's 1995 now, and that volatile red empire has already fallen.

Otherwise, the Russians would have to give the wizard some kind of medal to impress him.

Let them see what real force is!

In short, thanks to the efforts of the Federation, the Muggle government and wizards, while not exactly cooperating sincerely, nearly came to blows.

Cooperation is impossible, but there are indeed countries that are determined to wipe out all the wizards.

However, no matter how noisy it is outside, Irving doesn't need to worry.

Because he was being strongly observed by a crowd at that moment.

"Who are you? What are you doing here at such a young age? Don't you know it's dangerous here?"

A group of people walked over to the mysterious island.

The leader was a middle-aged black-haired wizard dressed in a neat wizard's robe, with his fingers and toes joined together and cheeks growing from his ears.

He gripped his wand, cautiously scrutinizing Owen with a chilling gaze.

He was clearly a battle-hardened elite Auror, at least on par with Kingsley.

"Are you an Auror from the Italian Ministry of Magic?"

Irving stared at him, his eyes showing a hint of surprise.

I didn't see any wizards notice him just now.

Did the Italian Ministry of Magic set up some kind of sensing magic around the perimeter?

That's impossible! If magic was used, he would definitely have noticed it.

But the person in front of him, and the others behind him, numbered more than a dozen.

Each of them exuded a surge of magical power.

You can tell at a glance that they're not to be messed with.

"That's right, I'm in charge of this area." The man said, tilting his head back. His straight, hooked nose was held high, and his expression was full of arrogance and pride. His amber eyes looked at Owen with a scrutinizing gaze as if he were looking at a criminal.

"You haven't answered my question yet. Who are you? What are you doing here?" the man continued, emphasizing his words.

"I?"

Irving sized up the man.

He was certain that the other party had either ingested gill sac grass or an underwater breathing potion with gill sac grass as the main ingredient.

The gradual healing of his cheeks and the separation of skin and flesh on his fingers were proof of this.

Moreover—Owen's gaze passed over him, and in the distance, the whirlpool enveloping the island had somehow cracked open, revealing what appeared to be the miracle of Moses parting the sea, right before his eyes.

That's probably how these wizards got onto the island.

What kind of power is that? A magical artifact? Or something else? Anyway, it can't be a curse.

Then, Owen coughed lightly and began to fabricate a lie: "I am an employee of Gringotts in London, assigned to help you unravel the secrets of the tower."

"You?" The middle-aged man clearly did not believe Irving's explanation.

Nonsense, he's too naive.

Being a curse-breaker is a highly skilled job.

Even the most outstanding graduates from major magic schools who want to become Gringotts' spellbreakers must undergo several years of internships before moving around to various ruins to serve as assistants to official spellbreakers, which takes at least five years.

And Irving—he looks like he's only a teenager.

"I'm well-maintained," Owen chuckled, knowing that the other party couldn't possibly cast a spell on him to manipulate his mind.

Dude, I'm just talking nonsense, what can you do about it?

"Ha—" The other person laughed out loud, amused by Irving's clumsy excuse.

"Looks like I should take you to the Ministry of Magic for a proper interrogation." He approached, his expression unfriendly.

"Um?"

"Hogwarts?"

Finally, someone noticed the prominent school badge on Irving's robe.

"British?"

Suddenly, the man's expression changed to one of understanding. It was summer vacation, so it was understandable that a young wizard from Hogwarts would come here out of curiosity.

Although he was puzzled as to how Irving got through the vortex, at least he knew who to turn to and which of his parents he should contact.

"Well, that's perfect, I just ran into a group of British people here."

As he spoke, he turned his head to the side.

Immediately afterward, Owen also looked over, and from the gap in the vortex in the distance, another group of wizards walked in.

The leader was still the Italian Auror.

But behind him was a figure that Irving knew quite well.

Sirius Black—along with Professor Lupin and the Gryffindor trio.

They've all arrived.

The Auror watching Owen split into two groups, one of which began to study the Divine Tower behind him.

The other team was still watching him.

The sudden crack that appeared in the Divine Tower caught the attention of the Aurors.

They examined it carefully.

Casting spells.

Then he went straight inside.

Irving was watching from the side.

As he had anticipated, the separation of the people did not occur, and the group of wizards remained unharmed.

I waited a moment.

Finally, Sirius Black and Lupin's Gryffindor squad arrived at the destination.

"We are here to help you. We are Dumbledore's men, sent by the Federation."

Sirius immediately revealed his identity and stance.

Perhaps it's because he's spent too much time with Irving, but this guy can lie without any hesitation, just spouting off without a second thought.

"Help us?" The middle-aged man's wary gaze didn't lessen despite Sirius's words. "Help us, and bring a little wizard with you?"

"Let's learn!" Professor Lupin stepped forward, a smile playing on his kind face. "We are professors from Hogwarts. We heard that you discovered the remains of ancient wizards, so we brought some of our best students here to learn and visit."

"Really?" The man still didn't quite believe them.

However, he is much friendlier than before.

"Then you may look around as you please, but you cannot leave this place." With that, the man turned and directed the Aurors to enter the Divine Tower to explore.

Sirius Black waited until the Aurors who had been vaguely surrounding them dispersed before making his next move.

"You brat!" He came over in a hurry.

I want to punch him!

Irving, who was quick to slip away, immediately dodged.

"What are you doing? What are you doing! School bullying? A teacher is beating up a student!"

"Beat me up? I'll beat you up! You little brat, you deserve a beating!" Sirius raised his fist, ready to strike again.

However, Professor Lu Ping stopped him.

"alright."

He stopped the fight between Sirius and Irving.

Now that we're here, we should focus on that tower.

With that, the two ignored Owen and left the opportunity to communicate to the young wizards.

"Hi! Owen!" Harry greeted him, but wisely refrained from further intrusion.

The girl behind him was practically spitting fire in her eyes.

Harry quickly stepped aside, pulling Ron along, and then immediately walked to the Tower of Divine Gifts, pressing his entire face against it to examine it closely. You might mistake him for an expert on ancient runes.

"Um—Miss Granger, hello there!" Owen was a little embarrassed as he waved to Hermione.

And what about the little witch?

Her eyes were deep and melancholy, and behind that melancholy lay anger.

She walked quickly toward Owen.

He raised his fist, but then gently brought it down.

"Why do you like playing the hero so much!" She looked up at the boy, her brown eyes filled with reluctance.

"What do you mean?" Owen chuckled dryly, somewhat embarrassed. "I just... I was forced into this."

Hermione took a deep breath, raised her head again, and the anger in her eyes had vanished. "No one is forcing you. If you don't want to, you don't have to do it."

Hermione's voice trembled slightly, and her eyes were a little red.

He sobbed for a moment, then suddenly turned around and hugged Owen tightly. "I know this is a risk, and I'm scared! But seeing you makes me feel that as long as I'm with you, I can overcome any difficulty we face."

Owen was a little startled by Hermione's actions. He gently patted Hermione's back, "There are outsiders here!"

Hearing his voice, Hermione released Owen and wiped away the tears that were about to fall with her sleeve. When she raised her head again, there was a hint of resentment and helplessness in her eyes.

Owen smiled helplessly, took Hermione's hand, and said, "Alright, let's go check on the Aurors now!"

Hermione nodded, and the two walked side by side toward the cracked door of the Tower of Divinity.

Many Aurors were going in and out of the gate.

Many things were moved out of there.

Some old books.

Several pieces of equipment that still exude magic.

There was also a stone basin filled with all sorts of bottles and jars.

There must be many powerful, lost potions stored there.

"Owen, Hermione!" Sirius suddenly popped his head out of the door and said to Owen, "We've found an ancient rune tablet. Come and see what it says."

"Okay," Hermione replied, then pulled Owen toward the Tower of Divine Gifts.

"Cough cough—"

A tremendous force came from his arm, but Irving didn't budge.

Seeing this, Hermione turned to look at him, puzzled, and then asked softly, "What's wrong?"

"Um—if we go in now, it'll be too obvious, Miss Granger!"

Irving released his hand.

"Five questions," he said.

"First, it's a bit contrived that someone comes in right after the door has just been opened."

"Secondly, Italians don't speak English to me."

"Third, the character models are too rough. Except for the main character, everyone else is wearing rags, you know? Look at Ron—his hair just got stuck in his neck."

"Fourth, you just entered the tower and you're already moving treasure out. Are you looking down on me and insulting my intelligence?"

"Fifth, and most importantly, Miss Granger's touch is wrong, too soft. Her scent is wrong too, too strong. She would never use perfume. And her personality is wrong too. If it were the real Miss Granger, just now, she would definitely have picked up a stone from the ground and thrown it at me, and then, whether she hit me or not, she would have cast a few spells to vent her anger first."

"I mean—have you not seen a girl in a long time? This simulation is so rough."

He spoke to the tower.

"Even if you're really trying to trick me into getting in, there's no need to be in such a hurry! Polish it up a bit, okay? Or you can just postpone it, hold on—we'll try to trick you again next time. This time, consider it data collection."

"You dare to serve a half-finished product? Do you think you're from 2077?!"

(End of this chapter)