I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 480 Interrogation

The car carrying the young wizards drove onward.

As soon as they stopped in front of King's Cross Station, two stern-faced Aurors dressed in black Muggle suits, wearing sunglasses, and with stern expressions approached them without saying a word and escorted them into the station.

"Quick, quick, get over the wall!" Mrs. Weasley said, the heavy security seemingly making her a little nervous and flustered. "It'd be best if Hermione and Harry went first, then Owen, Coyatt. Ginny, Ron, you two go with them..."

Pass through the station wall.

As on the first day of school as usual, the platform was packed with wizards, but beneath the noise was a strong sense of tension and anxiety.

The crowded corridor was filled with words of comfort as people bid farewell.

Steam rose and the Hogwarts Express spewed steam, making everything seem like a dream.

When Harry and Hermione appeared in the stands, the students and parents nearby instinctively focused their attention on the two of them.

The crowd whispered among themselves.

The looks they gave off revealed admiration, worry, fear, and indifference.

The complexity of human nature was on full display at this moment.

After Berlin, although their true faces were not photographed, everyone knew in their hearts that it was them, so they became famous once again.

As the war intensifies, the wizards who once revered the honor bestowed upon Miss Granger are now filled with more worry.

Too much light will inevitably become the target of everyone's criticism.

Most people may believe that Dumbledore will ultimately win, but no one can guarantee that they and their families will not become victims of the war.

Heroes are sometimes lonely.

The Demon King hated them, and others had no choice but to distance themselves from them.

"Let's go," Hermione said casually; she didn't want to stand there being stared at.

She is not someone who cares about what others think.

If she cared so much about what others thought, she would have stopped taking care of the elves long ago.

Harry nodded, not seeking the opinion of the gloomy-faced Auror beside him, and went straight to the carriage.

Sometimes Harry would remark that Hermione's strength wasn't about her magical abilities, but rather her inner strength. Among his friends, aside from Owen, Hermione was the most unconventional. She had her own will, and her actions followed her heart; even he sometimes felt uneasy and uncomfortable because of other people's attitudes towards her.

But Hermione wasn't; she always seemed so dazzling.

Irving, Ron, Ginny, and the others also boarded the train together along the platform.

"Oh, we'd better find a booth quickly, or we'll be stared at like circus clowns," Harry said hastily. He really didn't want to be famous, but Rufus Scrimgeour wanted to boost the morale of British wizards with his overdue savior role, so he still proclaimed him the savior in the newspapers.

Of course, the hype surrounding Hermione has been even more frenzied. Just a few days ago, the Daily Prophet claimed that she would become the greatest wizard since Merlin.

"Sorry, Harry." Hermione suddenly turned her head, looked away from Owen, and said apologetically, "We're going to the prefects' caravan, and then we'll be on patrol. Maybe—Owen will have to say a few words, assign tasks to the prefects or something."

"Oh, I forgot." Harry slapped his forehead, then remembered, "You two are the student council presidents, and Ron is a prefect."

"Okay, I'll go grab a spot first. See you later."

"See you later." Owen waved, having completely forgotten that he was still the president of the boys' student council.

They split into two groups. Ginny, Harry, and the usually quiet Koyatl headed towards their compartments, while Owen, Hermione, and Ron went to the front carriages.

There were fewer and fewer little wizards in the first few carriages.

The reason for this phenomenon is simply that the first few carriages were filled with Slytherin students.

Because of Voldemort's relationship with Slytherin, the young wizards from the other three houses did not want to have too much contact with him, especially given the current situation.

"This is really spacious," Irving said sarcastically.

The Slytherin wizard who had been slandered did not dare to talk back to him.

They watched the group walk by with a mixture of respect and fear.

A mix of emotions welled up inside me.

The group entered the captain's carriage safely.

Inside the carriage were Anthony Goldstein, Padma Petit (Ravenclaw), Parvati Petit (Gryffindor), Hannah Abbott, Ernie McMillan, Pansy Parkinson, and Draco.

The prefects from the other three houses were gathered together, while Malfoy and Pansy sat alone on one side.

"Hi—Owen." Hannah's eyes lit up, and she walked over to greet him.

Because of her mother, she spent more than a month at the Paris Magic Hospital during the summer vacation.

She and Neville both attended the DA Paris rally organized by Hermione.

"How was your summer vacation? Is your mother alright?" Owen asked.

"It's alright," Hannah said with some relief. "We left before the Death Eaters attacked Paris. Mom's condition is relatively stable now."

"Hmm—this will have to be done slowly." Owen nodded. Hannah's mother had a mental illness, which couldn't be cured simply with medication. It was probably similar to Muggle depression.

She needs a long period of rest and recuperation.

I chatted with Hannah Ernie and the others for a few minutes.

Next up is Miss Granger's work.

She was the president of the girls' student council. Although she hadn't been in office for more than a few months, she still knew very well what the president of the student council should do.

She assigned the prefects their respective patrol times and carriages, and then brought up the matter of the Aurors moving into Hogwarts.

This year, every young wizard entering Hogwarts will have their luggage checked. The prefects will need to inform the other young wizards so they can be mentally prepared.

As Hermione assigned the tasks, the prefects from each house got up and left the carriage one after another.

Draco and Pansy also got up to leave.

However, just as they were leaving in front of Irving...

Irving, who was sitting on the bench on the right, suddenly raised his leg and put his foot on the bench on the left, separating the carriage.

Then he gave Ron a look.

The other party immediately understood and urged the others to leave, driving Pansy out.

"Hey—what are you going to do?" Pansy Parkinson, who had a face like a lion dog, yelled, raising her arms.

Irving ignored her.

He lay back on the bench with his arms crossed and his right leg crossed over his left.

He had a lazy smile on his face.

Seeing that Irving ignored her, Pansy became even more audacious.

She raised her arm and started punching Ron wildly, saying sarcastically, "Get out of here, you pure-blood traitor."

Ron was annoyed by Pansy's attack, and he took out his wand from his sleeve.

Pansy was startled.

Although she appeared aggressive, she was well aware of her own limitations. She instinctively took a step back, and the angry expression on her face froze for a moment.

"Ha—I thought you were really that 'brave'," Ron said sarcastically.

Then, with incredible speed, she swung her cane, and the next second, Pansy felt as if she had been violently shoved away, her feet scraping against the ground with a screeching sound. She desperately tried to grab something, but ultimately grasped nothing.

"Bang—" The carriage door slammed shut.

She was roughly kicked out.

He fell down in the aisle.

The other prefects noticed this, but they only glanced at it, chuckled, and turned away.

Nobody liked this arrogant and domineering girl.

Especially as Harry and his friends repeatedly redefine the magical world's perception of young wizards, her continued adherence to pure-blood ideology and discrimination against them only makes her seem more foolish.

"Close your eyes and ears—" Ron cast a spell on the cubicle door to ensure that no sound would escape.

He didn't know what Irving was up to.

However, since the other party is Malfoy...

Who cares!

Let's beat them up first and talk about it later.

"Alright, all the bystanders have finally left." Owen turned his gaze back to Draco.

He said, "Then—let's speak frankly."

Upon hearing this, Draco nervously and cautiously took a step back, his short, light-gold hair revealing a face that was both restrained and cold.

His black suit made him look exceptionally tall and straight.

That gloomy, childlike quality kept overflowing outwards.

"What do you want to do?" He stared directly at the silver-haired boy in front of him.

At this moment, Irving was wearing a light blue casual outfit. It was impossible to tell what the specific style or brand was. The top was very loose, but the wrists were tight. The material had a silky texture. When he raised his hand, the loose sleeves would outline his arm.

Her long, silver hair was intertwined and tangled together, forming a straight braid.

A few wisps of hair framing his forehead partially obscured his emerald green eyes, adding to his casual and natural air.

Downwards, her straight nose had a pink tip, her thin lips were slightly upturned at one corner, and her fair neck was as delicate as a piece of porcelain, with beautiful curves and smooth texture. Under the light, it shimmered with a faint luster.

The neckline was casually left open, and then lower.

"Cough cough—"

Miss Granger coughed loudly.

With their eyes meeting, Draco quickly fell into defeat.

Owen seemed oblivious to all of that. He raised his left hand, gently pressed it to his lips, tilted his head, and looked at Draco, whose expression was somewhat unnatural, with a half-smile in his captivating eyes. "Tell me honestly, has Voldemort assigned you any tasks?"

"Like—killing Dumbledore or something."

His simple words, spoken with a dismissive tone, instantly plunged Draco into an icy abyss.

"What?" His pupils contracted, and he took a step back, seemingly unintentionally.

"Are you kidding me?"

"To be honest, Draco—" Owen flicked his wrist, and the Phoenix Wand appeared in his hand. "You know my methods. Prying open your head is a piece of cake for me."

"So why don't we just have an open and honest discussion?"

"you"

Draco's face turned pale.

He was well aware of the methods of the person in front of him.

He knew it all too well.

But—Draco lowered his head, gritted his teeth, his whole body trembled slightly, and his fists clenched together. His heart was like the sea, turbulent with a typhoon.

There was a full minute of silence.

Finally, he looked up, met Owen's eyes, and then resignedly said, "He ordered me to steal something from Dumbledore's office."

"What is it?"

"The information is about the Divinely Granted Tower in Canada. I don't know what that is."

"Nothing else?" Irving raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised.

Because this task is too simple, and there's absolutely no need for Draco to do it. Snape, the double agent, couldn't possibly do something like this.

"have--"

"I knew there would be more." He gave a knowing look.

"He ordered me to kill some people."

"Dumbledore?"

"Granger".

"What?" Hermione looked at Draco in disbelief. In an instant, a lot of things came to mind, and all sorts of random thoughts sprouted unchecked in her heart.

Her gaze kept darting between Draco and Owen.

He was seriously considering whether Malfoy was just saying things out of anger.

Irving, however, was not surprised at all.

Miss Granger is now Voldemort's number one thorn in his side.

Moreover, if he still believes that Hermione is the inheritor of the ancient magic, then he will definitely try every means to kill Hermione.

"That makes sense." Owen nodded, stroking his chin. "So, who else is in this 'some' group?"

"You—" Draco said, his eyes wide with pain, "any one of you except Pott. Otherwise, he will kill my mother."

"Any one?" Irving casually pulled his legs back and stood up calmly. "To be honest, I don't think you have that chance."

"However—your family should prepare to run away in advance."

"Run? Where can you run? You have no idea what he's become or how terrifying he is."

The boy roared. He closed his eyes in anguish, as if unwilling to face this cruel reality.

Irving waved his hand dismissively, saying, "Does he have horns on his head or a tail behind him? Besides, do you think your old man doesn't have a backup plan? Lucius is much more cunning than you think."

"Sometimes you should learn from your old man."

"Alright, we should go now," he said to Hermione and Ron.

Honestly, he wasn't worried at all about what might happen to the Malfoys.

As he said, Lucius was prepared to capsize and run away when he started playing both sides a few years ago.

Later, after he completely sided with the Saints, he made even better plans to escape. With the help of the Saints and Bellatrix's inside help, unless Voldemort immediately stormed into Malfoy Manor to kill Lucius and his wife, they would definitely be able to escape safely.

"Oh, right, there's something I really need to say." Just as Owen was about to open the captain's chair, he suddenly stopped as if he remembered something, then turned to Draco and said, "I strongly suggest you find a new girlfriend."

"What?" Draco stared blankly at Owen.

"Don't you think that Pansy is too ugly, and she looks like she's mentally ill? People like her are destined to be eliminated."

"I have nothing to do with Pansy! Absolutely nothing!" he suddenly became angry and shouted loudly.

"Really? You two seem to get along quite well," Owen said.

"That's just wishful thinking on her part!" Draco said in a very scumbag and disgusted tone.

"Then you should make things clear to her. What's the point of stringing her along?"

Hmm—Irving thought about it and realized he might not be quite qualified to say that.

He immediately switched to a more professional topic: "Actually, I think Ravenclaw's Astoria Greengrass is a very good choice."

He winked at Draco, his eyes very serious.

Astoria Greengrass, Draco's wife in the original novels, with whom he had a son.

The Greengrass family is also one of the Twenty-Eight Holy Clans. Astoria herself is two grades younger than them and is in her fourth year this year.

Unlike her sister Daphne Greengrass, who spent all her time by Pansy's side as her follower, Astoria was a very opinionated, intelligent woman who was more tolerant of race.

Her family inherited a blood curse. This curse manifested in her, causing her to be physically weak. Childbirth would greatly harm her. Although Draco told her he didn't care if the Malfoy family line ended, Astoria decided to have a child anyway.

The summer before Scorpius began his third year at Hogwarts, Astoria succumbed to the illness brought on by the family curse and passed away.

Girls like this are incredibly rare in the purebred world.

Draco really hit the jackpot.

By acting as a go-between, he's doing a good deed.

"Astoria Greengrass?" Draco murmured. He had heard the name before and knew the girl—from Pansy.

Of course, you wouldn't hear anything good about Astoria Greengrass from her.

But this actually shows that the girl is really great.

However—just as Draco was lost in thought.

Owen had already opened the carriage door and left with Hermione and Ron.

The screech of the carriage door startled Draco from his reverie.

He stood there all alone.

He heard Pansy's sharp voice calling his name.

The image of someone leaving was reflected in the gray pupils, lingering for a long time.

The Hogwarts Express was already in operation.

Smoke-like vapor drifted out of the window, blurring the view outside.

It was as if the train carriage had been put on pause.

What was once clear has gradually become distorted, illusory, and inextricably intertwined like ink painting.

On the other side, Irving walked very fast.

Outside the train window, the city scenery unfolds slowly before my eyes like a flowing scroll painting.

As the train sped along, the outlines of London's skyscrapers gradually came into focus. They stood in a staggered pattern on the city's skyline, their glass curtain walls gleaming in the sunlight, shimmering with the prosperity and vitality of a modern metropolis.

Occasionally, a lush green park or square comes into view, adding a touch of nature to this jungle of steel and concrete.

(End of this chapter)