I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 394 The Death of King Arthur

The guests who came to the courtyard arrived in a hurry and left in a hurry as well.

They all left at noon.

His elf Spiby even asked if they should prepare lunch for the wizards outside.

"Prepare? Prepare my ass! Did you pay me? You just want to eat and drink for free."

Irving waved his hand, saying that the group would leave naturally when the time came, and he didn't need to serve them.

It wasn't that he was angry that Miss Granger had awarded him a medal while he himself received no recognition.

That's impossible. If that were the case, Hermione herself wouldn't have participated in this award ceremony.

This is his opinion.

It also belongs to Merlin.

These ancient magic inheritors, who are enemies of the Outer Gods, are destined to be lost among the masses. Fame and reputation are poison to them, unless Owen is confident that he can be like Merlin, fearless of any other conspiracy or trickery except to confront the Outer Gods directly. In that case, fame is irrelevant.

Clearly, Kyrie Irving hasn't gotten that arrogant yet.

After several conversations, he finally managed to persuade Hermione to take on those honors for him.

A bleak and desolate afternoon.

Apart from Owen and a few elves, there were no other creatures in the manor.

The house was enormous, but living in it felt rather eerie and terrifying.

In the evening, we enjoyed several French dishes prepared by the little elf, including pan-fried duck breast with peaches and French-style pan-fried fish. Overall, the food was quite delicious and the texture was good.

After a hearty meal, Irving got up and left the restaurant, heading to the courtyard for a stroll to digest.

In the garden, thanks to the magical effects, the flowers showed no signs of decay, blooming in vibrant colors and creating a spectacular sight.

As night slowly fell, only a few dim streetlights in the garden emitted a light that pierced the darkness.

The starry sky quietly unfolds, magnificent and endless.

They are like bright gems, set on this ancient black canvas.

All around was quiet, with only the sound of the wind fading away in my ears.

Lost in this tranquility, Irving suddenly felt acutely his own insignificance.

The bizarre and fantastical world of magic, and the complexities of human nature.

Fate is unpredictable, and it's unknown where it will take him.

I walked a few more steps.

Looking out, a striking figure in a distant lawn caught his attention.

At this moment, a pink-haired wizard was lying lazily in the grass, gazing up at the starry sky.

"Legend has it that the great magician Merlin built a tower in Avalon, where he would never die and would forever watch over the world."

Irving walked over. "It's been hundreds of years, aren't you tired of seeing this yet?"

"It's just a different perspective—" Merlin tilted his head and said with a smile, "The view from the Sea of ​​Stars—is far more spectacular than this."

"But after watching it for hundreds of years, it's a little—well, it is—becoming a bit tiresome."

Irving also lay down in the garden, looking up at the starry sky. "If a person can observe the stars alone in a space of a few dozen square meters for hundreds of years, then he must have a deeper belief."

The belief that sustained him in life.

"Don't tell me it's to defeat the Outer Gods. Don't you dislike humans? You would defeat the Outer Gods for humanity? With your power, even if some kind of Great Unification were to descend upon the world, you would surely find a way to escape."

"Perhaps," Merlin murmured, "perhaps he simply didn't want to see the paradise that fool created destroyed."

As he spoke, he suddenly found his own words somewhat amusing, unsure of what had struck a nerve. He burst into a carefree laugh, "Well, well—saving the world—you don't need so many reasons. If you want to do it, just do it!"

"Heh—that's optimistic," Owen muttered.

He then continued, "What's it like to be a prophet? What's it like to be able to see everything?"

His grandfather was also a prophet. Although his abilities were not as powerful as Merlin's, he could still see fragments of the future. However, in the end, this ability seemed to be of little use. Even though he avoided some bad futures, he still ultimately failed in his confrontation with Dumbledore.

Think of Voldemort.

Then consider Professor Trelawney's prophecy—this ability seems somewhat useless, since it doesn't substantially provide wizarding power, and it seems that prophecies will always come true, in various ways, anyway.

Upon hearing Owen's question, Merlin unusually did not speak directly. He reached out and rested his chin on his hand, seemingly deep in thought.

He squinted for a long time before opening his eyes again.

A fleeting purple light flashed, revealing complex emotions, yet he himself remained as frivolous as ever, his tone filled with youthful nonchalance. "Pain, isn't it?"

"pain?"

Merlin rubbed his cheek, turned his head to look at Owen, and said in a direct eye contact, "It is because we foresee everything that we know the existence of the unchanging, and it is because we foresee everything that we know the existence of the changeable."

Knowing everything, I would feel as if I were the one who plucks the strings of fate, making me believe that all the suffering in the world is my doing.

Hearing the sound, Irving glanced at him.

"Aren't you struggling too, little Irving?" he continued.

A wondrous magic, carried by the petals blown by the wind, instantly captivated Irving's eyes.

The next second, what Irving saw was no longer the garden.

It resembles a scene from a meditation basin.

The surrounding scenery changed extremely quickly, but Owen still managed to see clearly that it was what the world originally looked like.

It's the original Harry Potter story.

Peter Pettigrew escapes, Cedric is killed by Peter, Sirius Black is killed by Bellatrix, Dumbledore dies, then Snape, Colin, Dobby, Mad-Eye Moody, and Tonks.

In the final Battle of Hogwarts, many people lost their lives.

"Why did you save them?" Merlin appeared behind him and asked.

"Didn't you ever feel at some point that since you knew the ending, saving them became your responsibility?"

"I have a duty to redeem them," he said gently.

It's like he's a truly caring older brother who confides in people. The thought, "If I can't save them, then coming into this world would be a complete failure," runs throughout his life. Right?

"Owen." He approached the boy, gazing into his emerald green eyes. "You're a prophet too. You should know very well what it feels like to know everything."

Irving remained silent, simply watching everything unfold before him.

"Without realizing it, you have already taken on the burden of redeeming them."

Time seemed to stand still. After a long while, Irving let out a heavy breath, giving the suffocating atmosphere a fresh signal.

"Is all of this true?" he asked, looking down. "Weren't these stories something you forcibly inserted into my head after encountering the future?"

"Yes," Merlin nodded, "I planted the future into your mind, but it is also real."

As he spoke, the illusion around him suddenly vanished, and endless darkness surged in. Owen involuntarily closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he realized that he had returned to the garden.

The starry sky reappeared in his sight.

"Alright—this illusion doesn't have enough magic to last. I saved up enough for a year, but it didn't even last a month." Merlin said regretfully, "Indeed—fate is always full of surprises."

"Don't worry, don't worry—we'll meet again, little Owen," he said. "I've left my magic in other places too."

"Other places?" Owen's eyes gleamed as he asked directly, "The Chamber of Secrets beneath Hogwarts Castle?"

"Yes," he said.

"Don't worry, I will never open it in my lifetime."

"Well, it doesn't really matter if I wake him up," Merlin murmured. Then, as if remembering something, he suddenly flipped his hand over, and an item flew out of Owen's waist pouch.

"Ah—I'll do you a little favor before I leave," he said.

Owen glanced at the object in Merlin's hand; it was the magic bracelet used by the giant of the Volcano tribe. It was likely a powerful magical item, but Owen hadn't had time to study it lately and had even forgotten about it.

"What is this? Do you recognize it?"

"Of course—" Merlin chuckled and winked at him, then a strange magic flowed from his fingertips.

It felt like breaking into a safe.

A moment later, the bracelet emitted a faint light, and then, to Owen's astonishment, it rapidly shrank until it was the size of a ring.

"Who do you think severed that divine essence of supreme will and imprisoned it in that tower?"

"Who is this? So arrogant!"

"King Solomon." With that, Merlin tossed the ring to Owen. "This is one of the Ten Rings that King Solomon possessed. They were ten rings with different magical effects. They were lost after Solomon's death in the war three thousand years ago. You can try to find them, but it doesn't matter if you can't find them all; external objects are still external objects. If the Ten Rings were really that powerful, Solomon wouldn't have died."

The Ring floated lightly onto Owen's right index finger.

"Oh!" He held up his hand, looking at the ring on his finger. "Ah, it's my precious!"

The moment he put on the ring, Owen felt his magical flow seem to quicken considerably.

Then he casually tossed out a fire spell.

Brown flames surged forth like a tide, startling Irving.

"How come it's so much more powerful?"

"Hmm—it seems you got a pretty good one." Merlin smiled faintly. "Amplification should be its function."

"Amplification? Strength? Magic? Spells? Amplify everything? Is this some kind of magic item? This is a divine artifact!"

"Of course—it won't be that exaggerated," Merlin said. "I guess you can only choose to amplify one of your physical abilities at a time, and there should be a time to store up magic power—well—in Muggle parlance, you have to wait for a cooldown—"

"Alright, that's not bad either!" Owen unleashed another spell, this time the flames were noticeably smaller than before.

"Just figure it out yourself!"

He suppressed his smile, slowly stood up, faced the garden full of flowers, and said, "Flowers bloom and wither, that's normal."

Then a powerful magic instantly swept through the entire garden, as if breaking something. The next second, at least half of the flowers in the garden withered.

"Are you leaving?" Owen sat up from the ground, looking directly at him.

"Yes—" he said, "this time—I saw some nice scenery."

The scattered petals, like flowing water, slowly converged into the vortex of Merlin. He stood in the sea of ​​petals, looking back at Owen. "There is such a passage in the Muggle story 'Le Morte d'Arthur'."

One day, the great magician Merlin told King Arthur that he was going to be buried alive. He then told Arthur many things and warned him to take good care of his sword and its sheath. King Arthur said, "Since you know so much, why not use magic to avert those misfortunes?"

"I cannot disobey the will of Heaven," Merlin said, then bid farewell to King Arthur. Arthur never saw the familiar sorcerer again.

And he, just as Merlin had told him in his story, lost his scabbard and faced his fate with equanimity.

Owen listened carefully, understanding the meaning behind Merlin's words. Just like Merlin in the story, he could not defy the will of God, nor could he escape his own fate.

"I am not King Arthur," he finally said after a long silence.

"No one can be him—" Merlin glanced at Owen one last time, then closed his purple eyes, his entire body transformed into countless flowers, the petals gathering on the ground before finally exploding with a 'boom'.

"But when the world faces a crisis, Arthur will rise again."

The countless flower petals fall to the ground, nourishing the soil.

Merlin himself has disappeared without a trace.

Only Irving's last whisper remained in his ear.

See you again at the Sea of ​​Stars.

Everything settled down, and the wind ruffled the stray hairs on the boy's forehead.

Owen gently stroked the ring on his right index finger, his lips moved, but in the end, he said nothing.

He simply turned around and left.

—Who wants to say goodbye to you? Get lost!

He went straight back to his room and went to bed.

The next day, early in the morning, he got up very early.

It's already the end of August.

Irving has already begun preparations to return to the UK.

In the morning, the little elf Spiby prepared breakfast and was sitting in the dining room eating.

It was a corridor with exterior walls made of several huge panes of glass. Sunlight could easily stream in.

Perhaps that's why my grandmother chose this place as a restaurant.

"Sir, someone has come to visit."

Just as he finished the last pie and was sipping his juice, lost in thought, he heard Spiby's voice.

That was a female elf.

Of course, don't expect the sprites to look like that.

Almost indistinguishable from Dobby, Owen has face blindness with the elves and can only distinguish them by their voices.

From the day he arrived at the manor, the elf kept calling him "Young Master".

A nickname that Kyrie Irving hates the most.

Finally, under his warning of being given clothes, she reluctantly changed her way of addressing him to "sir".

"Who's there so early in the morning!"

"She said she was the head of the Magic Disability Department at Ikur Magic Disability Hospital. Wilma Lawton said you knew him."

"?" Owen was taken aback. "Wilma Lawton? What's she doing here?"

"Oh—it's about treatment, isn't it?"

Irving picked up a napkin from the table and wiped his mouth.

"Let's go see him."

He was quite attentive to the customers who came to deliver the money.

Treatment is possible—just pay me.

Trying to get something for free? I'll smash your head in.

He got up and went to the living room.

Sure enough, Wilma Lawton, who looked several years older than she had seen in just a few days, came seeking his help.

This time, Wilma Lawton's attitude was—well—much more submissive.

It was probably the matter with Priest Lavieu that frightened her.

The meeting with her was very relaxed, and the two quickly reached an agreement.

Due to the current situation in Egypt and its surrounding countries, the Ikur Magic Disability Hospital will be transferring patients, including all mutated patients from countries along the Mediterranean coast.

The destination is Paris.

With the Federation taking the lead, the French Ministry of Magic will find a suitable place to settle them in Paris.

Irving was responsible for providing medical treatment.

As for the cost—Irving didn't ask for an exorbitant amount to treat a patient.

Let's go with 300 Galleons.

After the agreement was reached, Owen was led by a Ministry of Magic official from the Rozier family to the newly built isolation hospital in the center of Paris that afternoon.

It must be said that modern magic is indeed very efficient in this aspect of life.

The patients were brought in one after another.

Irving also began receiving treatment.

Nearly a month has passed, and the condition of the infected has almost all deteriorated to a very serious level.

Although the world is vast, some wizards have found ways to slow down these symptoms, but they all involve boiling water in a dry pot, keeping the fire burning and adding water continuously.

More than twenty people were brought in that afternoon, and almost all of them were barely recognizable as human beings.

At this point, Irving did not treat each patient individually.

The Prime Minister doesn't have that much energy. With his current level of focus, he would need to rest for a long time after treating just three or four people.

Therefore, Irving's choice was to first channel some of the mutated magic into each person to stop the disease from worsening. The advantage of this was that he could ensure that none of the patients would die while waiting, but the disadvantage was that it would take a lot of time.

If each patient's toxicity level is 100, then reducing it by one for everyone each day is useless; it needs to be reduced by two, because the mutation is still increasing. This means that it will take at least fifty days to treat everyone.

The actual timeframe is three months.

More than ninety days.

From the end of August when Owen took over Rozier's Magical Disability Hospital, it lasted until the end of November, and the last patient was not discharged until almost December.

The reason it has been dragging on for so long is primarily due to the number of patients. There are a total of about three or four hundred wizards, and even after accounting for those who didn't make it through the first month, there are still about three hundred left.

Besides the wizards, there were also thousands of Muggles.

These Muggles were certainly not the passengers on the ferry during the "War of the Sea Gods." Under those circumstances, any injured Muggles had no choice but to give up.

Wizards themselves are in danger, so it's impossible for them to achieve perfection.

The people Owen treated were civilians or soldiers who were injured after the Muggle army assisted the wizards in eliminating the remaining Sons of the Omen.

These are the total numbers; it's impossible for the hospital to have so many patients on its very first day.

In addition, the fact that some patients were more serious than others required different treatment plans for each individual also took a lot of my energy to handle.

In the end, it was Victor who stepped in. He stayed with Owen in the hospital for over a month, observing him, and finally invented an alchemical magic item containing ancient magic.

That thing looks remarkably like a Muggle-style MRI machine.

Mildly infected individuals can lie inside and have the device expel the mutated magic from their bodies. Its principle is very simple and brutal: the ancient magic from the outside world rushes into the patient's body and expels everything, whether it is mutated energy or the wizard's own magic. The effect is similar to chemotherapy for Muggles.

However, this stuff can only be used on mildly infected individuals. If you use it on moderate to severe cases, the person will probably be sent away immediately.

But it still helped Owen a lot. Of the total of one thousand Muggles, seven or eight hundred received equipment treatment, and there were also some unfortunate wizards who followed.

In short, he was finally free before Christmas.

The remaining mildly infected individuals can be handed over to regular therapists who are already proficient in operating the equipment.

Can he really be trapped in a hospital for the rest of his life?

After this experience, Irving learned a profound lesson.

That is—even if you pick up money, if you pick it up too much, your back will start to hurt like hell.

Everything is ready.

Owen notified the Federation, then informed the French Ministry of Magic, and finally assigned Spike and several other elves to guard the house.

He himself used the door key to complete the feat of crossing the ocean.

As he stepped out of the safe house in Hogsmeade, he gazed at the familiar streetscape and the snow-covered houses.

For a moment, I felt as if I had been transported to another world.

"Hogwarts!"

"I'm back!!!"

Irving walked quickly along the muddy path.

It's around 10 a.m. today, Wednesday, so he hasn't encountered any little wizards along the way.

It wasn't until he crossed the ridge and saw Hagrid's hut not far away that he saw a large group of young wizards gathered around Hagrid, taking a magical creature protection class.

"Hey Kyrie! Wow! It really is you."

He was discovered very quickly.

It's Colin Crevy, the little wizard from Gryffindor who loves taking pictures.

He is one grade younger than him.

Colin's shout quickly drew the attention of Ginny and Luna.

Then everyone noticed him.

"Oh my god! I almost didn't recognize you, you've changed so much."

"Ginny, can you take a picture for me?" Colin's eyes lit up as he excitedly took the camera off his neck and handed it to Ginny.

"I want to send the photo of me with the great hero to my mother."

Owen walked over and greeted Luna.

He and Luna Ginny hadn't gone six months without seeing each other.

You should know that Hermione also has the "Clockwork Door," so sneaking out of the castle is no big deal for her.

For more than three months, they would sneak into the hospital almost every week, each time with a large group of people, including Harry, Ron, Justin, Hannah, and Luna Ginny.

The twins even assisted Victor in inventing the magical resonance device; they contributed their efforts to that machine.

The good thing is that these two brothers were awarded two Merlin Medals, Third Class, for inventing the magical device.

Viktor is the sole recipient of the First Class Medal.

As for Irving

He saved hundreds of people in three months; he's practically a living saint of magic.

Her prestige rivaled that of Miss Granger.

Hospitals for the magically disabled from various countries sent him letters asking if he could hang his portrait on the hospital walls.

That's why Colin called him a great hero.

(End of this chapter)