I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 481 The Gathering on the Train

(Previous chapter has been revised)

Owen had no intention of going with Hermione to inspect the train.

He just wanted to find a place to sit down as soon as possible.

Inspection—How old are you? Can't you even take care of yourself?

Does he still need to act like a male mother and protect her at all times?

Owen walked quickly down the corridor, afraid that Hermione would drag him away to do chores.

"Owen," the girl suddenly called his name.

Irving's face stiffened.

It immediately stopped in place.

Ron had long since disappeared by then.

He was even less willing to work than I was. After leaving the parents' carriage, he dashed off to the back, probably to find Koyatl.

You bastard—don't let me catch you!

Irving thought viciously to himself.

Then, with a smile, she turned to Hermione and said, "What's wrong? I think you could easily handle the patrol yourself. It doesn't seem like you need me much."

"That's not what I meant!" Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly, as if she were angry, shy, and annoyed.

She took a deep breath, glared at Owen, and then said, "You just—were you doing that on purpose—?"

She couldn't quite put the word into words.

After stammering for a while, under Owen's questioning gaze, she changed the subject and asked, "Why did you tell Draco those things?"

"Something happened?" Irving was taken aback. "What happened?"

"It's about suggesting he change girlfriends, why are you so concerned about that?" Hermione said through gritted teeth, forcing a smile.

"Uh—" This question left Owen at a loss for words. Should he say that he had read the original work?

So he simply went straight to the point, saying, "I'll just say what I want to say."

"Didn't you notice, Draco?"

"Stop—girl, what you're about to do is dangerous."

"My thoughts?" Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Is that really my thoughts?"

"Haven't you noticed that at least 30% of the boys in the castle are..."

"I think you need to face this problem squarely. You're attracting unwanted attention," Hermione's voice trailed off, until finally her gaze was fixed on him intensely.

Owen smiled and said, "What are you thinking? Can that word be used to describe me?"

"Yes, it is." Hermione tilted her head back indignantly. "And it's very fitting."

"Okay, maybe a little, but you know, there's nothing I can do about it." He shrugged, looking helpless. "I can't cast Disillusionment Charms all the time, can I? Why should I go through all that trouble for them? Besides, students' mental health is something professors should worry about."

"But..." Hermione bit her lip, unsure how to describe it, "we should have toned it down a bit."

"Oh my goodness! Miss Granger," Owen said, feigning surprise, "you're not jealous about this, are you?"

"I didn't!" the girl quickly retorted.

"I think so." The boy walked up to her. "I think your worries are unnecessary, darling."

He reached out his right hand, gently stroked Miss Granger's chin, and then kissed her.

Hermione was completely taken aback by Owen's actions. Her eyes widened in astonishment as she stared at him. For a moment, her mind seemed to freeze, unable to think of anything.

Owen's actions, however, were very natural; his kiss was gentle and affectionate, as if soothing her nervousness. Hermione felt her heart race and her cheeks begin to flush. She wanted to push him away, but her body seemed frozen in place, unable to move.

Finally, Owen released her, and looking at her slightly flushed cheeks, a smug smile appeared on his lips.

"Now, dear Granger, can you go on your patrol in peace?"

The girl stood there, stunned.

And Irving.

After tracing the girl's cheek with his fingers one last time, he quickly walked toward the back of the train.

Hermione remained standing there, her heart still pounding and the heat on her cheeks lingering. She touched her chin, which Owen had just stroked, and could still feel the warmth of his fingers.

As she watched Irving's retreating figure, a faint sense of satisfaction welled up within her.

Yes, words are no substitute for actions.

Girls sometimes need boys to be a little more assertive.

Hermione patted her cheeks, took a deep breath to calm the heat in her heart, and then belatedly looked around to make sure no one else had seen her before she breathed a slight sigh of relief.

After gathering her thoughts, she prepared to inspect the carriages.

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.

On the other side, Owen easily found the cubicle where Harry was.

In the cubicle, he was comforting Neville, who seemed to still be recovering from the incident with the quill grass.

Sigh—I can only say the child is too kind.

Little did anyone know that Qu Yicao was merely a catalyst; whether or not it existed, Voldemort would still have clashed with the entire wizarding world—it was only a matter of time.

Harry was clearly not very good at comforting people.

After talking for a while, Neville was still listless, and there was no light on his face.

"Stop sulking!" Owen couldn't stand it anymore and kicked Neville in the shin.

The pain made him frown. His distressed face immediately contorted.

"Your parents should be fully recovered by now, right? Isn't this more important than any war?"

"Don't let me see you lose your temper at school, or I'll beat you up every time I see you!" He glared with his emerald green eyes, making a blatant threat.

Neville shuddered, as if he were transported back to six years ago.

He felt as if he had seen this scene before.

"Alright—give me a smile!" Irving said again, his tone quite forceful.

Neville raised his head, revealing his mournful face. The corners of his mouth were forced upwards, and he looked like he had been forced into it, which was not natural at all.

"Stop—it's uglier than crying, utterly disgusting." Owen waved his hand and turned to look out the window.

Harry gave an awkward laugh.

However, after Irving's strong intervention, Neville did look better than before.

They're also willing to speak now.

About half an hour passed like this.

Hannah then came over.

She should have finished inspecting the carriages she was responsible for.

After she learned what had happened to Neville, the task of comforting him fell to her.

After a while, Ernie came in.

Owen didn't see Ginny, Ron, or Koyatl, so he figured Harry must have come to this compartment to comfort Neville.

Another hour passed, and it was almost noon.

Just as the group was discussing why the food truck hadn't arrived yet and what to eat,

The door to the cubicle was opened.

The girl who arrived was a third-grade student. She said breathlessly, "I...I've come to give these to Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, and Owen Sanchez."

The girl stammered, her big eyes fixed on Owen.

When he met her gaze, he immediately blushed.

She handed them three rolls of parchment tied with purple silk ribbons, on which were written their names.

After Irving and the others took her, the girl stumbled and ran out of the carriage.

"What is it?" Ernie asked curiously, staring at the scrolls of paper in the hands of the group.

"An invitation," Harry said.

"It's Professor Slughorn," Irving said. "He wants to invite us to dinner."

"That sounds good, free food," Ernie said, his eyes lighting up.

"Wait, who is Professor Slughorn?" Neville looked at his invitation with a puzzled expression.

"A new teacher," Harry said. "Shall we go?"

"Why wouldn't we go? Everyone should go!" Owen stood up and said, "As a Hufflepuff, how can you refuse a dinner invitation?"

"But," Hannah said somewhat embarrassedly, "that professor didn't invite us." She glanced at Ernie and said.

"Don't make a fuss. He's a professor, do you think he can kick you out?" Owen pulled Hannah up. "Don't panic, Professor Slughorn still deserves our respect."

"Walk!"

He pushed open the carriage door.

It was lunchtime, and the outside was packed with little wizards.

However, when everyone saw Irving, they all made way for him without any hesitation.

When they arrived at carriage C, it was already full of people; Slughorn had invited more than just the five of them.

He also saw Hermione, Cho Chang, Luna, Ginny, Ron, and Coyatri.

In short, it seemed that everyone with a name in the school was on his invitation list. If you exclude the Slytherin students, it was practically a gathering of the A.D.

It's really impressive that he managed to sort out the information of all the students at Hogwarts and confirm his target in such a short time at his age.

"Oh, my dear children, I am so happy to see you all," he said, jumping off the chair.

His large belly, clad in a velvet coat, almost filled the remaining space in the carriage. His gleaming bald head and thick, silvery-white beard, like the gold buttons on his vest, shone brightly in the sunlight.

Inside the private room, a huge round table appeared out of nowhere, and everyone sat around it.

The carriage had clearly been enchanted with an infinite stretch spell, otherwise it wouldn't be able to accommodate so many people.

"It's so good to see you all, so very good," Slughorn said warmly, his gaze sweeping over each of their faces. "So, you must be Mr. Longbottom, right? Ah, and this blonde lady must be Ms. Abbott! I wonder if you know a witch named Slant Abbott? She's the head nurse at St. Mungo's Hospital for the Injured."

"That's my aunt, the professor," Hannah said.

"Oh—I knew you two must be connected. She was very talented in potions back then, and I recommended her to further her studies in the healing profession," Slughorn said with some pride.

"Oh—you're a Macmillan child, aren't you?"

"Yes, Professor, my name is Ernie McMillan."

"I know, I know your parents, they are both pure-blood wizards with a long lineage."

Under his gaze, Ernie nodded. He seemed to have heard of the professor's reputation before, and he appeared more at ease than Hannah and Neville.

Slughorn gestured for them to sit in the empty seats.

Irving glanced around. Most of the people present were either outstanding students from OWL or from pure-blood families, the kind with power and influence.

"Ginny!" Harry called out, gesturing for her to sit down.

Then Ron and his friends switched places with the Slytherin students around them.

Hermione sat down to Owen's left.

Cho Chang was also on their side; after all, she was an old acquaintance of D.A., and she wasn't too keen on sitting with a group of Slytherins.

"Oh, you all know each other, don't you?" Slughorn said cheerfully. "Shall I introduce you? This is Brays Sabini, Hermione, Harry. He's in the same year as you, so you must know him."

Shabini neither acknowledged nor greeted him.

He was a tall boy with prominent cheekbones, dark skin, and narrow, slightly slanted brown eyes.

Sharp-tongued and self-centered.

But if we're talking about fame, it has to be her mother—the woman known as the Black Widow.

To date, she has been married seven times, and all of her husbands have passed away, each leaving behind a large inheritance.

The Ministry of Magic has never been able to find any evidence against his mother, and to this day, it remains unclear whether his stepfathers died accidentally or were murdered.

Such a person naturally wouldn't have any interaction with Harry and his friends.

It's already quite impressive that he can call out the other person's name.

"This is Cormac McClargan, perhaps you know him before—? No?"

Slughorn was somewhat surprised because Cormac McClargen was a Gryffindor.

Actually—Harry shaking his head meant that this guy had a crush on Hermione, and everyone knew that throughout seventh grade.

Although Hermione had clearly rejected him, he was like a leech that she couldn't shake off.

"—This is Marcos Belby, I don't know you."

Slughorn introduced everyone present.

Irving truly admires him!

How did he manage to memorize so many names and their relationships?

To put it bluntly, he has been studying at Hogwarts for six years.

He knew half of the Slytherins, a third of the Ravenclaws, and a small number of Gryffindors, but he couldn't recall their names.

Because it's unnecessary, he simply won't have any interaction with those people.

Anyone who knows him is fine.

It took Slughorn a few minutes to get to the point.

"Alright, that's great! Let's have lunch now, you must be starving. We can't spend all our time introducing ourselves. Relax, kids, don't be so tense, this is just a chance to get to know you all better. Here, take a napkin."

I brought my own lunch. I remember the food from the delivery truck always had a very strong licorice flavor. A poor old man like me, his digestive system can't handle that stuff. Let's get to work..."

Before Slughorn could speak.

Irving had already started eating.

The professor's eyelids twitched wildly, but he was helpless.

Not eating when there's food to eat, and just nagging on and on—that's just plain stupid.

Irving ate very quickly.

The young wizards present seemed to be used to his behavior by now.

Several people couldn't help but let a dreamy smile creep onto their lips.

About twenty minutes later.

After a hearty meal, Irving lay back in his chair.

He patted his flat stomach, which showed no movement at all. A hint of fatigue flashed in his eyes. He felt sleepy after eating!

"By the way," Slughorn shifted his gaze from Irwin, "Miss Granger. It may be offensive to say this, but these days the newspapers are full of reports about Berlin. I'd like to know, did you do it?"

"Oh—you don't need to worry about legal issues at all. This is an achievement, enough to earn you another Merlin Medal."

His eyes gleamed, and he asked with great excitement.

"Professor." Hermione wanted to refuse outright, but Owen answered for her.

"What do you think?" he said with a half-smile.

"Me?" Slughorn paused, then put on a smile again. "I think that was Miss Granger. I know a bit about Origin Magic; very few people can use that kind of magic to that extent. Believe me, there are no more than ten people in the magical world who can unleash a Starfall spell that covers more than half a mile. This Berlin area is over three miles wide, isn't it!"

"Four miles (6.4 kilometers)," Irving said.

"You admit it?"

"Admit something?" Irving chuckled. "Professor, I haven't admitted anything."

"Alright—" Slughorn shook his head. "Since you don't want to be exposed, then—I'll try another way. Why would this wizard who cast the Starfall spell choose to do it so openly? I mean, doesn't he care about the Secrecy Act at all?"

Upon hearing this, Irving slightly curled the corners of his mouth; Slughorn had actually noticed this.

Hermione and the others had no doubts about this because they trusted him unconditionally.

He certainly has more discreet methods, though they are troublesome, they do exist.

He smiled, met Professor Slughorn's gaze, and said, "I guess—I'm just guessing—that this person is here for intimidation."

"Deterrence?" Slughorn frowned. "Deterrence against dark wizards?"

"To deter Muggles."

"Deterring Muggles?" Slughorn looked at Owen in confusion.

He was a very traditional wizard, whose understanding of Muggles was still stuck in the Middle Ages, and he didn't understand what Owen meant at all.

"What's so intimidating about Muggles?"

"Professor," Irving said, crossing his arms and leaning forward against the round table, "times have changed!"

"The magical world can probably no longer be hidden."

"I wouldn't dare say that Muggles possess enough power to absolutely defeat wizards, but they do have weapons that could kill both sides."

"What impact will the exposure of wizards have on Muggles is unknown, but we can speculate—how would we react if wizards knew that there exists a higher race in this world with immortality, boundless divine power, and the ability to easily control wizards and destroy the order we have established?"

Owen laughed coldly, his expression somewhat strange and sinister. "For a civilization, annihilation is the greatest respect you can show it."

"Humans—that's just how it is. We all hate the power of other species that we can't control. Professor—aren't you the same?"

"Of course—at present, neither side possesses decisive power, and the Muggles are naturally powerless to launch another global witch hunt. But in order for both sides to share peace on an equal footing in the future..."

Deterrence is necessary. Demonstrating strength to them is to maintain a fragile peace—Professor, do you understand what I mean?

(End of this chapter)