I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 492 Hagrid's Hut

"We—wizards and Muggles—are sitting on a powder keg, where any spark could ignite it. And the result would be that we'd both be blown to bits!"

Hermione said with a worried expression.

In the castle, no other young wizard was as politically astute as she was.

The newspapers were full of articles about judging wizards, which speaks volumes.

Ordinary people want to see fire and light, but the government is sometimes forced to reluctantly comply with this overwhelming public opinion.

Those who go against the tide will be voted out of office.

"The situation is indeed getting worse and worse."

Irving said.

He rubbed his chin. "I think we'll have a result by Christmas, at least."

"What was the result?" Hermione turned her head, her brown eyes falling on him.

"War!" Owen said calmly.

"Is it unavoidable?"

"If you can think of any other way."

"I," Hermione stopped speaking.

The blood of hundreds of thousands of people.

There is no other way but war.

"Perhaps we should try to clarify to the world that there are good and bad people among wizards, just as there are criminals among Muggles. Could I write articles for the Daily Mail or the Guardian? Like we do for the Daily Prophet?"

"The Muggle world is far more complex than the wizarding world," Owen shook his head. "The propaganda machine serves the political forces behind it. Why would a Muggle newspaper listen to wizards?"

“But,” Hermione paused, “we were on the Hogwarts Express before. You said that in the Battle of Berlin, besides defeating those Inferi, our main purpose was to deter Muggles. Didn’t that serve a purpose?”

"Yes!" Irving said. "Haven't we been using this deterrent for over two months?"

He smiled, though it looked somewhat forced. "Otherwise, they would have immediately gone to war with the wizards. It's precisely because they're wary of your strength that they've been delayed for so long."

"." Hermione's expression was somewhat blank. With her intelligence, she could certainly understand the reasoning behind it.

Can.

"Don't think about it anymore." Owen reached out and took her slightly cold hand, saying gently, "Sometimes, we have to admit that human strength has its limits, not all efforts will be successful, and not all expectations will develop in the direction we hope for."

From another perspective, a war between two races is not entirely a bad thing. At least after experiencing war and facing its cruelty, peace can be maintained for the next thirty or forty years.

That's just how people are—both world wars were no exception.

"You're right, Owen," Hermione said absently, "but I always felt that everything should have been avoided, that it should have gone in a better direction, not gotten worse."

"Alright." Owen took her hand, stood up, and said, "Go out for a walk and clear your head. Don't keep thinking about these things. If the sky falls, the tall ones hold it up first. These are things that Dumbledore, as the head of the guild, should be thinking about. Why are you worrying about them!"

Today is Saturday.

The DA rally will be held tomorrow.

Today should be a relaxing day.

Just like other little wizards.

Enjoying the holiday without a care in the world.

Miss Granger was somewhat reluctant to go out, but she couldn't persuade Owen otherwise.

The boy's grip was very strong, and she couldn't break free. After a moment, she gave in to his wishes.

The two walked through the winding and complicated corridors and left the auditorium tower.

If the sky outside the castle could be covered by a thick, leaden-gray curtain, it would be so heavy that it would seem to crush the entire world.

The fine rain fell silently, turning the earth into a damp, grayish-blue hue.

The breeze carried the scent of dampness and the fragrance of earth, yet it could not dispel the oppressive and stifling atmosphere that permeated the air.

The distant mountains appeared and disappeared in the rain and mist, as if shrouded in a mysterious veil.

A mountain rain was brewing, and the wind was getting stronger, blowing the raindrops diagonally into the distance.

Along the way, there were very few young wizards, and the weather in October was already quite cold.

That damp, cold feeling is like needles pricking your skin from every nook and cranny; it's uncomfortable no matter where you go.

Therefore, most young wizards prefer to hide in the lounge, sleep in, or do their homework.

Owen and Hermione arrived at the covered bridge.

Further down the path was the road down the mountain, with one side leading to the Forbidden Forest and the other to Hogsmeade Village.

"Even the wind knows a storm is brewing!" Owen leaned against the railing, from where he could see Hagrid's Hut in the distance and the Quidditch pitch on the other side.

Despite the continuous rain, teams were still training on the field.

You can tell from the red capes that it's the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Hermione didn't speak, but gazed intently into the distance.

She couldn't stop worrying.

A few minutes later.

Suddenly, several black dots flew in from the Quidditch pitch.

The black spot is getting bigger and bigger.

Harry and the others are on their way here.

"Is training over?"

Owen watched as Harry, with remarkable agility, leaped from the Firebolt into the covered bridge.

"Your technique is pretty good!"

"Haha, it's nothing special!" Harry laughed, then wiped the rain off his face.

Hermione held out her wand and chanted a spell at Harry. Suddenly, a warm breeze blew up and dried Harry's soaked clothes and hair in a few breaths.

"Thank you!" Harry said.

"It just suddenly started raining."

"It was just a light drizzle a moment ago, but now it's getting heavier. We have to stop training."

As he spoke, the other Quidditch players also came to the bridge.

They greeted each other and hurried toward the castle.

On such a cold day, they genuinely missed the fireplace in the lounge.

Ginny didn't stay either.

She said she felt sticky all over, with rainwater and sweat seeping into her underwear, and she needed to take a shower.

Harry and Ron, those two rough guys, didn't care. After drying their clothes with a spell, they felt refreshed.

"Only you guys would train on a rainy day," Irving said.

"So we've won the championship four years in a row," Harry said proudly.

Because of the tournament, there was no Quidditch game in fourth grade, and this year's tournament hasn't started yet.

In fact, Harry did achieve that; he hasn't lost a championship since he joined the Quidditch team.

However, this is both an honor and a burden.

The more this happened, the more afraid he became of his winning streak ending.

Therefore, the training became increasingly rigorous and demanding.

"That's true." Owen shrugged. Hufflepuff wasn't particularly interested in Quidditch anyway. Professor Sprout wasn't a Quidditch fanatic like Professor McGonagall either; their only goal was to avoid finishing last in the tournament.

Every year it's him and Ravenclaw vying for first place to secure second, always at the bottom.

In their third year, Ravenclaw managed to defeat Slytherin and take second place.

"Where are we going now?" Ron asked, holding his broom.

"Hmm—" Harry stood on the covered bridge and looked into the distance, his gaze landing on Hagrid's hut.

"Perhaps we could go see Hagrid and have a cup of hot tea."

"Uh," Ron suddenly said nervously, "He's still angry with us because we didn't take his class."

"We have to talk this out! Are we going to break off all ties with Hagrid?" Harry said.

"All right!"

Ron nodded.

The group then raised their wands, conjuring umbrellas, and proceeded along the mountain path to Hagrid's cabin.

"By the way, how's your relationship with Slughorn going? Have you completed Dumbledore's task yet?" Owen suddenly brought up Slughorn on the way.

It was also Grindelwald's letter, and his reasoning that he suspected Slughorn might know something.

"Not good." Harry frowned and shook his head. "Every time I bring up the things about Voldemort and Regulus from decades ago, he changes the subject."

"I tried many methods."

"Slughorn is starting to pressure me now."

"To be honest, we should just use Legilimency directly, it's simple and brutal," Ron said bluntly.

"It can't be that simple," Hermione said appropriately. "I think Slughorn must also be a master of Occlumency, maybe not as good as Professor Dumbledore, but not bad either. If he doesn't tell us, we have no way to pry open his head directly."

"Pry open his head," Harry glanced at Hermione, finding the girl in front of him rather frightening.

"Old man," Owen scoffed, "Sometimes I really envy dark wizards, who can do whatever they want."

"What do you want to do?" Hermione immediately looked at the boy warily.

"It's nothing—just a sentimental remark."

"It would be best to express some sentimentality," she said. "Slughorn is a professor at Hogwarts now, and you can't be rough with a professor."

"What about Umbridge?" Ron interjected.

"That's different!" Hermione retorted irritably.

"What's different?"

"It's just different. Have you forgotten what she did?"

Seeing Miss Granger's somewhat lion-like appearance, Ron quickly stopped talking. "Uh—okay. You're right."

Upon hearing this, a girl in a bad mood suddenly froze, staring straight ahead.

Everyone quickly looked ahead.

Bakal, the Australian with the white eyes, was currently rolling around in the pumpkin patch outside Hagrid's courtyard, grabbing at the beavers that were running around everywhere.

Owen suddenly felt a surge of resentment. He looked down at his feet, found a stone, and threw it at the spot.

The stone tore through the wind, pushed aside the rain, and struck the wild dragon squarely on the head.

The sound of "thud" echoed as if it had struck pig iron.

Caught off guard, Bakal immediately raised his head, spread his wings, revealed his sharp teeth and fangs, and stared angrily ahead with his jewel-like eyes.

"Why did you hit it?" Hermione glared at Owen, then waved to Bakal.

The next second, the dragon left, flapped its wings, and flew into Miss Granger's arms like an arrow.

"Hmph—I'm just annoyed," Owen said.

"Where's Sirocco? Where did that stray cat go again?"

"It's right here in our common room. It's very well-behaved," Hermione immediately defended the white cat, "I didn't take off its restraint collar, so it can't escape the Gryffindor tower."

"Yes, indeed!" Harry chimed in, "I've never seen such a lazy cat, sleeping for twenty hours a day."

"Maybe—" Hermione said, teasing Barker, "we should let him go out and run around a bit?"

"If you let it out, you won't see it this semester," Irving said immediately.

"We still need to let it go out for a walk. Can't we be free? Do we have to restrict a cat too?" Hermione walked to Hagrid's pumpkin patch, placed the dragon she was carrying on a pumpkin, and then rummaged through the pocket at her waist.

Her pocket, which was enchanted with an infinite stretching spell, contained many things, including some emergency food.

That was something she had prepared specifically because she was worried that one day they would need to survive alone in the wild.

"Fly, fresh meat!" The little witch raised her hand and summoned a piece of fresh meat weighing about two pounds.

"Hey!"

Just as Bakal was wolfing down the piece of fresh meat that looked not much bigger than himself...

A loud voice rang out.

Hagrid emerged from behind the hut, wearing a large printed apron and carrying a sack of dirt.

Bean. His big hunting dog, Tooth, followed at his feet. Tooth growled and pounced on Harry and the others.

Come.

"Don't mess with it! It'll bite off your fingers—oh, you lot."

Toothpaste jumped and leaped around Hermione and Ron, trying to lick their ears. Hagrid stopped, glanced at them, then turned and strode into the hut, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Well—this is something I didn't expect," Hermione said somewhat awkwardly.

"Don't worry," Harry said sternly. He went to the hut and knocked hard on the door.

"Hagrid! Open the door! We want to talk to you!"

There was no sound inside.

"If you don't open the door, we'll blow it open!" Harry said, drawing his wand.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide with horror. "You absolutely can't!"

"Why not!" Harry said irritably. "Move to the back—"

But before he could say anything more, the door to the hut suddenly opened—something Harry had expected. Hagrid stood there glaring at him angrily; although he was wearing a printed apron, he still looked quite intimidating.

"I'm a teacher!" he yelled at Harry. "Teacher, Potter! How dare you threaten to blow up my door!"

"Excuse me, sir," Harry said, emphasizing the last two words as he tucked his wand into his robes.

Hagrid seemed stunned.

"When did you start calling me 'sir'?"

"When did you start calling me 'Potter'?"

"Ha, clever enough," Hagrid roared, "funny enough. You've got me all wrapped around your little finger, haven't you? Fine, come on in, you ungrateful bastards..."

He muttered angrily and stepped back to make way for them.

"Even though they're cursing and swearing, their actions speak louder than words." Owen gave Harry and Hagrid a disdainful look.

"That's a really crude way to provoke someone."

"Why are you talking so much!" Hagrid glared at him and said angrily.

"Because I'm different from them!" Irving said, spreading his hands.

"I haven't given up on the course of magical creature conservation."

"That's a course that Professor Dumbledore forced you to take!" Hagrid pointed out the key point.

"Wrong!" Owen shook his head, a hint of sadness sliding down his cheek. "He didn't force me. Damn it, that was something Old Deng made an elective for; I had no choice but to accept it!"

"A total of nine courses!"

"Professor Dumbledore is just showing you affection!" Hagrid said noncommittally.

"Thank you! I thank his whole family!" The person's resentment had not diminished at all, even though more than a month had passed.

Whenever he saw other young wizards chatting and playing games in the common room while he had to go to class, he would silently thank Dumbledore!

"So are you coming in or not?!" Hagrid shouted from the doorway.

"Go in!" Irving shouted even louder than him.

Then, he angrily dragged Hermione into the cabin.

"."

The sudden argument caught both Harry and Ron off guard.

However, this indirectly eased the tension between them and Hagrid.

You can tell just by looking at his expression.

Compared to when we first met.

Hagrid's complexion is much more normal now.

As always, Hagrid's cottage remained the same.

Hams and pheasants hung from the ceiling. Flames burned in the fireplace in the corner.

A huge bronze kettle was hissing and steaming.

There were many random animal pelts scattered on the sofa; perhaps Hagrid wanted to collect them to make a cloak or scarf.

"What's wrong?" Hagrid's large figure walked past them.

At this moment, the four young wizards sat down at the large wooden table in front of the fireplace. Toothpick immediately rested his head on Harry's lap, drool dripping onto his robes.

"What's wrong? Do you feel sorry for me? Do you think I'm lonely or something?"

“No,” Harry said immediately, “we just wanted to see you.”

"We miss you so much!" Hermione said timidly.

"Miss me, is that it?" Hagrid scoffed. "Yes, that's right."

He paced back and forth, stamping his feet, and brewed tea with the huge bronze teapot, babbling incessantly.

He was muttering something.

Finally, he placed four teacups, each the size of a small bucket, heavily in front of them. The tea inside was as dark as mahogany.

He also brought over a plate of his homemade rock-skin cakes.

Harry and his friends looked at the food and tea in front of them, feeling a bit of a stomachache, but out of politeness, they still picked up a piece.

Irving also picked up a cup of black tea and took a sip.

Actually, the taste is alright.

It has a taste very close to that of the original Daming tea.

But this is very different from British tea, where they like to add spices or milk to their tea.

Hermione watched Owen gulp down his tea and devour his biscuits, and a sense of unease crept into her heart.

He was puzzled again. Had Hagrid's skills improved?

She then carefully picked up a piece of rock-skin cake and took a bite.

"ah--"

My teeth hurt so much

Hermione quickly picked up her tea cup and took a sip.

It's really tough!

"Have some tea!" Owen reached out and tapped Hermione's tea jug. Instantly, the tea in the jug changed color; it was still red, but much lighter.

The little witch timidly took a bite, and um—it had a floral scent and was sweet.

"Hagrid, we really wanted to continue taking the Magical Creatures Protection class," Harry said, silently putting his hand on the rock bread.

He really couldn't understand why Irving's teeth were so strong that he could chew stones.

"Indeed!" said one of the wizards who drank black tea like water. "All we need is a different professor!"

"Owen!" Harry glared at Owen immediately.

Hagrid was so angry that he immediately stood up and almost overturned the table.

(End of this chapter)