I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 399 What crime has she committed! She just wanted to find a good man!

"Even the Dark Lord doesn't trust him, but he's still useful now!" the fake Umbridge said bluntly.

Voldemort clearly understood the Malfoy family's double-dealing nature.

But—they are very useful.

And it's very useful.

It's not just about his enormous wealth, but also about Lucius's information and data; his insurance business now spans the entire continent of Europe.

Since the War of the Sea Gods.

Especially among the Aurors from various countries, everyone is willing to spend some Galleons to get themselves wizard accident insurance.

The world is becoming increasingly chaotic, and they might lose their lives any day now.

At least at that time, his family would be able to receive a huge sum of compensation.

This means that almost all Auror personal information across Europe is now open to the Malfoy family's Wizard Insurance Company.

Voldemort could easily find the weaknesses of the Aurors who opposed him: their families, their basic information.

Lucius Malfoy was well aware of his own worth. However, he had a backup plan.

The two sides are now locked in this mysterious and unpredictable struggle.

"It works! That's the greatest trust." Owen smiled faintly. "As long as it works, what does it matter if you're an enemy? He still has to maintain his cooperation with you."

So the key is to keep yourself useful.

"Are you warning me?" the fake Umbridge said coldly.

"No, no, no," Owen waved his hand.

"Don't be so worldly—I think the emotional connection is stronger than the one based on profit." As he spoke, he pulled something out of his pocket—a roll of parchment.

"Here you'll find everything you need, all perfectly arranged. If you act quickly, you'll achieve your goal in a few days."

I know you absolutely do not trust me. You may have your own methods of resurrection, but what I need to know is that all the methods you possess have fatal flaws.

Only my method prevented him from repeating the same mistake.

You wouldn't want him to start losing his hair a few days after being resurrected, would you?

"What do you want?"

"I must add a small time limit to this 'collaboration'."

"Time limit?" She looked at Owen in confusion.

"Two years—within two years, you must tell me your whereabouts, your purpose, everything that is known to me. I can't create an enemy for myself, can I?"

"Hmph—don't you think your conditions are too harsh? Do you want to put us on a leash?" the fake Umbridge said coldly, even colder than the surrounding frigid weather.

"Hey—you said it yourself, but—though it may be rough, it's true. You can think of it that way." Owen looked directly at her, then slowly walked over, circling the fake Umbridge. His voice sounded relaxed, but his expression carried an undeniable domineering air. "Actually, you didn't have a choice. The plan has come this far, and you have to keep going no matter what."

Second—though you may not admit it, you have actually betrayed the current Voldemort.

Third—I've given him so much. Do you think it's easy to make a broken soul normal?

He continued to revolve around women.

His expression was flippant and nonchalant, and his every move exuded an air of complete control.

"Fourth—I'm going to take down the Outer Gods—although this isn't helping you, you have indeed benefited, especially the one in the diary."

Irving's words silenced the woman.

She had to admit that what the person in front of her was right.

He had dug a huge pit for himself, but now he was powerless and had no chance to resist or fight back.

Moreover—unbeknownst to Irving—someone had already noticed her.

Although his disguise was flawless.

The frigid wind continued to blow.

When the wind passes through the platform, it makes a "whooshing" sound.

It's like some kind of call.

A call from the deepest, most primal desires of the heart.

Irving looked at the woman in front of him.

Her cheeks gradually relaxed.

His eyes were no longer as cold as they had been.

He knew—she had ultimately succumbed to her own desires.

That was a distorted obsession born from a yearning for a better future.

Perhaps she will succeed—and Owen even hopes her wish will come true, because then he will have one less enemy.

"Why two years?"

About two or three minutes later.

The woman then spoke again.

Owen chuckled, then explained with a touch of arrogance, "Two years from now, the deity that supports the existence of Horcrux magic will die."

After that, no one will be able to cast this spell again. Without it, even if our senior Tom is powerful, he'll just be an ordinary wizard, and Miss Granger will be able to easily control him.

"Granger?" Fake Umbridge's gaze passed over Owen and landed on Hermione.

In the past—she would have immediately said, "Just a mere mud-bearer."

But now—she had to admit—that the girl had grown to a frightening degree.

Perhaps she herself didn't even realize it. Even the Dark Lord didn't possess such power during his student days.

Perhaps the only thing she lacks compared to the Dark Lord is combat experience and a cruel heart.

Irwin didn't explain; he knew she understood Miss Granger's power.

So he continued, "From a political perspective, the magical world needs a long-term 'enemy.' With external forces, this complex magical world can have the possibility of reform; otherwise, it should be revolutionized."

"How do I know you won't go back on your word?" Fake Umbridge withdrew his gaze and stared intently at Owen.

In response to her questioning, Irving simply extended his hand.

The other party seemed to understand what he meant.

He also reached out his hand.

The two held hands tightly.

Then, Owen's wand slowly emitted a thin, dazzling tongue of fire, like a red-hot metal wire, which wrapped around their clasped hands.

"You cannot hurt me or the newborn Tom within two years."

Under the influence of strange magic, the person in front of me revealed part of their true appearance.

Bellatrix Lestrange stared at Irving as she spoke.

"Can."

"For the next two years, you must do everything you can to help me and the newborn Tom," she added.

"Can!"

"For the next two years, we will never harm you or your friends, nor will we undertake any plans that could potentially harm you. We will also provide information about the current Dark Lord and our location."

"agree."

"Then—the vow is fulfilled."

Then, the heated metal wire fell into Irving's and Bella's arms.

Everything has settled down.

As they drew closer, both of them immediately let go, clearly disgusted.

Bella took the parchment Owen had prepared and looked at him silently.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, "Sometimes I doubt your motives—you are more evil than any dark wizard I have ever met, because you are far more ruthless than them."

"This is called uniting everyone who can be united, not your foolish act of making enemies all over the world," Owen said dismissively.

"How can terrorists like you know how to truly reshape the world? I want to see a better tomorrow."

"Perhaps!" Bella, now back in Umbridge, said noncommittally. "Finally, there's one thing you need to be careful about: don't kill this idiot." She pointed to the body.

"Perhaps it will still come in handy."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to resist," Irving said.

"Whatever." Bella's voice held a hint of impatience. "Well then—goodbye!"

"Goodbye!" Irving waved.

Then, this loyal servant of the Dark Lord quietly hid at the top of the stairs.

Just as she came in silence.

In the end, it left in silence.

"You actually let that female demon betray the Dark Lord?"

After Bella's figure completely disappeared.

Hermione couldn't wait to speak.

What she really wanted to ask was why Owen would make a deal with someone like that, but more than that, she was curious about how he could get Voldemort's most loyal servant to betray him.

"Who told you Bella betrayed Tom?"

"And her?"

"She just wants to change to a different Tom—did she betray him?" Owen said with a half-smile.

"Change it?" Hermione's eyes widened. What did that mean?

"You know about Horcruxes, right?"

"Yes!" Hermione nodded.

"Since all the other Toms are still Toms, why can't they be allowed to choose one to be loyal to? To choose a young, handsome one, someone they can have as a husband?"

"Huh?" The little witch stared blankly. Could that be possible?

Wait a minute—what does it mean to be a husband?

That can't be.

Voldemort was old enough to be Bella's father; they were from completely different eras.

Okay!

Hermione swallowed hard; dark wizards were indeed rather perverse.

"Making a fuss over nothing."

"She's just gone from being a madwoman to a yandere now." Owen grabbed Hermione's hand, and the two headed for the stairs, preparing to leave.

As he walked, he explained, "Now, Tom, I mean the one who has come back to life."

His soul was like Justin's haphazard stew at noon, a jumble of everything except his own, including the souls of animals, Outer Gods, the priest, and others used to repair his soul.

In the eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange, who had become yandere, this was impure, a defilement of the great Dark Lord.

How could she allow such a chaotic furnace of souls to be her master?

so--"

"so?"

"She wants to create a true, pure, complete Dark Lord, preferably one who belongs only to her. This last point is very important."

"So—I gave her my sixteen-year-old senior, Tom."

"Maybe they'll have a daughter named Delphi someday."

"."

Hermione's mind was completely muddled, like rusty parts creaking and groaning. She needed time to think carefully and understand the huge secret Owen had just mentioned.

"Doing this will give us a mole planted next to Voldemort, and it will also sow discord among the Death Eaters, providing us with intelligence."

As for danger—like I said, there might be some within the next two years, but after that, once the Outer Gods are dealt with, the Mystic Realm will completely collapse, Horcrux magic will become ineffective, and Voldemort's soul will change from a primary to a secondary entity, becoming an independent entity that can be eliminated one by one.

But that's Harry's problem. He's the Redeemer, so why am I doing all the work?

Irving continued rambling on.

What he didn't say was that Harry had to kill the part of Voldemort's soul inside him before the Outer Gods were destroyed, otherwise—he didn't know what might happen—but it certainly wouldn't be a good thing.

"Now—we've destroyed most of Voldemort's Horcruxes. His current soul is simply not strong enough to split into more parts, unless he wants to go completely insane."

As for the resurrected sixteen-year-old Tom? That's up to you.

Owen patted Hermione on the shoulder and said.

"Leave it to me?"

"Of course? He's sixteen, and you're sixteen too. He doesn't know more magic than you do. Besides, when Riddle was sixteen, he was just plotting in school. You were already involved in the war against the Outer Gods when you were sixteen."

So—no matter how you look at it—the advantage is yours!

Owen stared intently at Hermione. "Don't tell me you're not confident you can beat a school bully?"

"Okay, fine."

The little witch thought about it carefully, and it seemed to make sense—Voldemort was only sixteen years old, so what could he possibly do, no matter how powerful he was?

The competitions and wars he had participated in over the past two years were beyond his imagination. How could he possibly lose? She did seem to have a significant advantage!

"Then leave it to me!" Hermione said decisively, her voice full of confidence.

"Alright, that makes our roles clear." Owen said cheerfully, "Harry will take care of Voldemort, you'll take care of Tom, and I'll mainly deal with that little deity."

They crossed the suspension bridge and parted ways at the top of the spiral staircase.

Before parting, he swiftly kissed the girl's cheek.

Then, with Hermione's cheeks flushed and her eyes filled with love, the two parted ways.

I slept without any dreams.

------

In December, Hogwarts had already been in the snow season for a month.

A fierce blizzard swept in.

At this time of year, Irving prefers to stay in the greenhouse.

The Hogwarts Greenhouse—the spiritual home of every child from the Ming Dynasty—has the feel of a vegetable greenhouse.

In addition, you can grow vegetables, and of course, you can also grow some herbs as a side dish.

Hufflepuff doesn't have Defense Against the Dark Arts class on Thursdays and Fridays.

So Irving never encountered Umbridge again.

As Christmas approaches, people seem to be more tolerant of Umbridge's dislike—the holidays are coming soon, let's just bear with it a little longer!

Many people think this way.

Hermione got busy again.

She had been preparing her own secret organization. Owen estimated that she would be able to take down the fake Galleons around Christmas.

However, Irving felt that some of her plans were not quite appropriate.

Why conduct this in secret?

If you're going to stop it, you should do it openly and honestly!

On Sunday, Owen, who was sheltering from the cold in the greenhouse (in solitary confinement), received a letter from a fairy.

The letter was delivered to the auditorium, but the owl didn't find Owen. The cleaning elf saw this and delivered it on his behalf.

"Damn it—"

Irving tore the letter open in no time.

This was sent from Paris, France.

From Rozier's Magical Disability Hospital.

Family members of the complex hospital management reported that a group of patients infected with the "Omen Curse" arrived at the hospital from North America on the 8th.

This is a highly unusual signal.

The North American Aurors who participated in the War of the Sea Gods had already finished their battles months ago, whether they were to be healed or die.

The United States is so far from the Mediterranean Sea, it's impossible that the "Child of the Ominous" escaped to the United States.

So there's only one truth—that there are also "imposters" in North America, and it's these people who spread the "ominous signs."

"Damn, this priest has pretty wide-ranging business!" Owen said through gritted teeth.

After the battle with the Outer Gods—Ionia.

In addition, there was the golden disc sacrifice ceremony in Ionia.

All of this indicates that the Outer God extracts the power of the soul from these people infected with the "ominous signs".

If this ominous sign really spreads, the consequences will be unimaginable; everyone will be doomed!

Irving then left the greenhouse.

He strode towards the library, hoping to find a way to identify the "Impersonator" from the files Dumbledore had brought back.

This took him several hours.

He didn't leave the library until 8 p.m., when Mrs. Pince was preparing to close.

That evening, he continued searching through his collection.

He also took a lot of books from the underground warehouse.

Irving didn't know when he fell asleep.

In short, by the time his confused consciousness gradually cleared, it was already the morning of the next day.

new week.

Monday morning is Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Hufflepuff and Slytherin.

Tomorrow afternoon is Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw.

Owen and Hannah arrived at the classroom early.

Justin is still sleeping in.

The classroom was noisy, another typical college conflict.

Several members of Umbridge's patrol squad wanted to deduct points from Hufflepuff because they had discovered a few days ago that their House Points had suddenly become zero.

But thanks to Owen's presence, they dared not speak, so they could only mock some of the Hufflepuff wizards, enticing them to deliberately make mistakes.

A boring trick.

Irving looked away, and a moment later Justin arrived at the classroom, yawning.

He's been engrossed in playing chess these past few days, staying up late with Ernie for several nights in a row.

Just as Hannah was trying to persuade Ernie, Umbridge walked into the classroom, wearing her black velvet bow, full of confidence.

Good morning, students!

"Good morning, Professor!" everyone said in drawn-out tones.

"Please put away your wand."

The young wizards, who had been subjected to psychological manipulation for months, didn't even bother to take out their wands.

Please turn to page 34 of "The Theory of Defense Against Magic" and read Chapter 3, "The Reasons for Taking a Non-Offensive Response to Magical Attacks." While reading, please refrain from speaking.

The next second, the sound of pages turning filled the classroom.

Irving also opened the box in front of him.

He had never actually opened this book.

I skipped the title page and glanced at the table of contents.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Chapter 1: Introductory Basic Principles

Chapter 2: The Theory of Common Defense and Its Origins

Chapter 3: The Reasons for Taking a Non-Offensive Response to Magical Attacks

Chapter 15: The Wrong Anti-Curse

Chapter 34: Non-retaliatory Measures and Negotiation

"Damn—this kind of stuff can actually be published!"

Irving flipped through a few pages and immediately understood what kind of book it was.

The entire book does not teach any black magic defense spells; it explains only theoretical things, and even those are abstract theories rather than theories of specific magic.

Classifying this book as a history book is a gross understatement. It should be in the trash, not here!

"No wonder modern magic is constantly declining; it's because of the existence of these trash books!"

He then stood up.

He tossed the textbook in front of him to Hannah.

This thing doesn't even qualify to go into his pocket.

Think about what kind of books he carries in his pockets?

He has magical techniques here that are enough to cause a huge change in the magical world.

"Mr. Rozier, what are you doing?" Umbridge stood in front of the desk, a fake smile on his face, and looked at Owen.

"I'm not feeling well," Irving said casually. "I'm dizzy, lightheaded, and nauseous."

"Oh—really?" Umbridge expressed her doubt, but she had no intention of keeping Owen. In fact, although she had experienced setbacks in the previous three months, overall she was not a failure, but rather quite successful.

Without Irving's involvement, this success would likely have continued for a long time.

So she was happy to see Irving leave.

Meanwhile, Owen had already pushed open the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts class and left without looking back, leaving the young wizards in awe.

Irving walked quickly down the corridor. He didn't return to his dorm room, but instead left the tower and crossed the suspension bridge to other buildings.

Fourth floor, Professor Alchemy's office.

Irving knocked on the door and, after hearing a permissionful response from inside, went straight in.

"How's the research going? It's been three months already."

Viktor's office and alchemy classroom were similarly furnished, filled with bottles and jars containing all sorts of gruesome animal parts.

Although it's called an office, this place is more like a metal workshop.

After a fruitless day of searching, Irving decided to try his luck with Victor.

I just found a place to sit down.

Before him, on a table covered with parchment scrolls and various magical mechanical arms, Victor, wearing special microscope glasses, carefully examined the glass slide in front of him—or rather, the cells on the glass slide.

His question seemed to sink without a trace, and he received no response from Viktor for a long time.

A good ten minutes later, Viktor slowly sat up and took off his glasses. "This isn't something that can be done overnight."

His voice sounded very hoarse, his hair was messy and unkempt, his eyes were red and swollen, and his mouth was dry. It was obvious that he had been staying up late for several days.

"The mutated cells are like cancer cells in a wizard's body," he explained after a moment's thought. "These are pre-programmed rules, and it's not so easy to reverse them."

"And what about the 'Impersonator'? Have you come up with any results yet? Just enough to be able to distinguish them from a crowd," Owen continued.

"No, that won't work either. The imposter has taken over not only the body but also the soul. You can't tell just by looking at them. Maybe we could try the Guardian Charm—"

"A Guardian Charm?" Owen raised an eyebrow.

"Guardian deities originate from the power of the soul. If a person's soul changes, their guardian deity will also change accordingly, or it may simply become impossible to summon."

(End of this chapter)