I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 496 Business Transactions?

Owen looked up at the numerous portraits of the headmasters and spoke eloquently: "After the fall of King Arthur's Camelot dynasty, British wizards never ceased their attempts to rebuild a magical dynasty."

From the time the Romans withdrew until the Tudor dynasty, this struggle for power, family, and court lasted for a thousand years.

This ultimately marked the failure of the wizards' attempt to establish a magical dynasty.

Of course—the wizards' failure was entirely their own fault, represented by the Norman nobles: the Malfoy family, the Lestrange family, the Nott family, the Travers family, and the Selwyn family.

Representatives of the Anglo-Saxons: the Lombard family, the Burke family, the Flint family, and the Crouch family.

Representatives of the Celtics: the Abbott family and the Black family.

Rosier of France.

The influence of Spain was represented by Queen Catherine of England, while the influence of France was represented by Queen Anne Boleyn of England.

Elizabeth, the last queen of the Tudor dynasty.

All forces gathered on this land for this grand event!

That vibrant scene of life and everything thriving is still vivid in my mind!

The result of this chaotic conflict was that no single power could control Muggles and establish a magical kingdom like the Camelot dynasty.

Owen suddenly looked at Principal Black, "And of all the powers, the most tragically defeated were the original powers of England, the descendants of Camelot, the Celts: the Weasley family, the Abbot family, and the Black family."

Therefore, I say that Black's demise was inevitable, because foreign wizarding families, whether the Malfoys and Lestranges who followed William the Conqueror to England, or the French, Spanish, and Danes, although they had their conflicts, their common enemy was undoubtedly the powerful families within England. Look at Black now; clearly, their schemes have been very successful.”

"Hiss—now that you mention it, I suddenly remember that Salazar Slytherin himself was a Celt, and the Chamber of Secrets he left behind was for purging those of impure blood."

Perhaps they weren't referring to Muggle-born wizards at all, but rather wizards of foreign blood—tsk tsk—if you interpret it that way—that's hilarious. The Celts' weapons ultimately became the Saxons' weapons against the Celts; truly, life is unpredictable, like intestines wrapped around small intestines!

Irving smacked his lips and glanced at the silver cup on the table, which seemed to contain honey water.

He picked it up and took a big gulp.

"Merlin, too, chose the Weasley family as heirs for the first few generations, perhaps because they are descendants of Camelot?"

"Principal Dexter." Owen's gaze focused on Principal Dexter's portrait. "Was my guess correct?"

"."

The office was silent.

After a long while, a wizard finally spoke.

Yes, you're absolutely right.

"Who are you?" Owen noticed the principal for the first time.

His face was etched with deep lines by the years, his skin was like aged leather, and his hair was gray, sparsely scattered on his head like silvery snowflakes.

His beard was neatly trimmed, each hair looking so refined and strong.

He was wearing a dark blue robe.

The wizard appeared to be only in his fifties or sixties.

This age is the prime of a wizard's life, but the fact that his portrait is displayed here suggests that the headmaster may have died young.

"Iosha Sarkendenberg," the headmaster said in a deep, magnetic voice, "I served as headmaster of Hogwarts from 1490 to 1503."

"You guessed right, especially during the Plantagenet and Lancaster dynasties. These three hundred years were the most intense period of struggle. Assassinations of wizards and the framing of members of the royal family occurred almost every few years. The highest authority of wizarding bodies, the British Wizarding Council, changed its leaders every few years."

But things are different now. Nowadays, wizards, aside from dark wizards like Voldemort, have little interest in ruling Muggles and establishing magical dynasties.

"Wait—what did you say? That kid's telling the truth?" Before Owen could speak, Phineas couldn't hold back any longer. "Why? Why has no one ever told me this before!"

Phineas was born in the 19th century, at least three or four hundred years after those principals.

“That’s the principle, Phineas!” Principal Iosha Sackendenberg said. “We don’t need to tell the current principal everything, and if you don’t ask, we’ll never answer.”

"So we, Blake, have been foolishly bullied and weakened by you for hundreds of years?"

“It wasn’t me!” Iosha Sulkendenberg said, somewhat annoyed. “That’s just how it was back then.”

"Bullshit!" Phineas roared, now behaving like a lion. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!!!"

Good heavens—his longtime friends Malfoy and Lestrange were actually Black's enemies.

The enemy he hated and the lowly Weasley he looked down upon were actually his own kind.

this.

Phineas was consumed by rage as he recalled the past—his heart was filled with pain and confusion.

He felt ashamed of being deceived and manipulated.

"Alright." Dumbledore, who had been silent for a long time, finally spoke.

He gave Irving a meaningful look.

He didn't even know much about the history of wizards.

It's hard to imagine where this child learned all this.

"Go back, everyone," he said.

His voice sounded unusually tired.

There is no solution to the current problems, and old wounds are being reopened.

For some reason, the magical world is getting more and more chaotic.

The old principal sighed softly.

As the current president of the federation, he is under increasing pressure, and sometimes he even considers resigning to focus on British affairs.

But that's impossible.

Wizards all over Europe are watching him. The more chaotic things are, the more leadership is needed. If he were to resign at this time, it would have a strong negative impact on the magic ministries of various European countries.

Moreover, the federation's reforms have entered a deeper stage.

War is indeed a problem, but he believes that if the Federation can survive this war, it will surely be transformed.

"Let's go." Owen shrugged, nodded to Headmaster Dumbledore, and led the young wizards out of the room.

One by one, everyone left.

As we descended the spiral staircase, everyone remained silent.

Ron was the most surprised among the crowd.

He had no idea that his family had such a history.

In the past, he would have definitely pressed Owen for answers, relentlessly pursuing him to uncover everything about the Weasley family's history.

But now, especially after Shani Weasley's final help, the past seems more like a burden and a heavy responsibility to him.

The more you know, the more troubles you'll only cause.

They are doing quite well as a family now.

Ron didn't want anything to change.

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.

Back in the Great Hall, Hermione and Owen didn't linger and headed straight for the other towers, their destination being the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.

The DA rally is about to begin.

Although neither of them is currently focused on this.

Pushing open the door to the Room of Requirement, Hermione hurriedly found a corner, transformed into a table and chairs, and took out the morning newspapers—mainly Muggle newspapers—trying to find some news in them.

Harry and his friends were out there doing something, no one knew.

They arrived quite a while later.

One by one, the other young wizards arrived here.

Koyatl was among them; she was mainly in charge of teaching, while Irving was slacking off.

Just as Harry said, the atmosphere immediately became somewhat eerie after the young wizards gathered there.

The young Gryffindor wizards seemed extremely irritable.

It's quite obvious—they've split into two camps.

Normally, Hermione would have scolded them, given a declaration of unity, and tried to force everyone together as one.

Now, however, she no longer has that in mind.

He poured all his energy into those newspapers.

She didn't leave until lunchtime.

Irving brought back some food from the auditorium.

In the afternoon, several more owls flew to Hogwarts.

It was the same newspaper Hermione had ordered.

European newspapers.

Speaking of which, Miss Granger is quite wealthy in the Muggle world, mainly due to the prize money she received from the Muggle medals she had previously earned.

And so, they forced themselves to read the newspaper for an entire afternoon.

Hermione left the Room of Requirement before dinner.

The next few days.

The weather was calm, and it seemed that nothing had happened.

The whole world fell into an eerie silence.

Harry said that perhaps Voldemort had given up on his mission.

He didn't want to start a war with the Muggles yet.

But Hermione didn't think so.

She believes that the other party may be secretly infiltrating or something similar.

Perhaps they have some other purpose, but we must not let our guard down.

Kyrie Irving shares the same view.

In the courtyard in front of the castle's covered bridge, many young wizards gathered.

Owen, Hannah, Justin, Koyatl, Harry, Hermione, and also Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and many others are all there.

Today is the first Hogsmeade Village visit of the semester.

The professors originally intended to ban young wizards from going to Hogsmeade this year.

However, the Ministry of Magic relented and allowed it after increasing the number of patrols.

The tower clock pendulum falls.

Filch stood at the oak gate as usual, checking the names of the students who had been granted permission to go to Hogsmeade Village one by one. This time seemed to take longer than usual, as Filch repeatedly checked each person with his probe.

"So what if we smuggle some dark magic items out?" Ron said dismissively. "Besides, is this thing even useful? It just looks like a metal frame."

He made an insolent remark, which resulted in him being poked a few more times by the probe. When they went outside into the strong wind and rain and snow, he was still grimacing in pain.

Filch's detector was of little use, of course; such a thing could only detect dark magic items from the past.

However, modern black magic items now come with a hidden spell.

Simply put, the virus has been upgraded, but the firewall is still the old version, so it's no wonder it's not working.

However, Irving didn't speak rudely like Ron. Filch's presence was already very low; if he were to show his face again, everyone would almost forget that he even existed at the school.

The walk to Hogsmeade was very uncomfortable. The young wizards wrapped the lower half of their faces with scarves, and the exposed parts quickly became painfully cold and eventually went numb.

Owen and Hermione snuggled together, and this was the moment to test their sense of shame.

Miss Granger was somewhat embarrassed, but she did not refuse and let Owen hold her.

Ginny was very bold; while Harry hesitated, she went straight up to him.

The speed was so fast that Ron's eyelids twitched violently.

Justin and Susan seem to be having a falling out.

Even if Ron had ten times the courage, he wouldn't dare to lay a hand on Koyatl.

As for the others, well—they can only tighten their robes.

Along the road leading to the village entrance, students could be seen everywhere, bending over and braving the wind.

Feeling the warmth in her arms, Owen wondered more than once why, given the time, he didn't choose to stay with Miss Granger in the cozy lounge or somewhere else.

You absolutely have to come to Hogsmeade!

He didn't really need to buy anything.

淦.

He wouldn't have come all this way in this freezing weather if Gemini hadn't invited him.

"Hey--"

When they finally arrived at Hogsmeade Village, they found that most of the shops were closed.

The only place in the entire neighborhood that could be described as bustling was George and Fred's Weasley Alchemy Workshop.

"We live less than three miles apart, but we haven't seen each other for more than two months," George said, waving his hand.

He was panting, wearing a thick beaver fur trench coat and a pair of fire dragon leather boots.

They've obviously made a fortune.

"Let's go grab a drink!" Fred said, then cheerfully led them to the Bee Duke candy store.

Justin, Hannah, and the others did not follow.

They were going to visit the Gemini Alchemy Workshop.

In the end, only Harry, Owen, Hermione, and Ron followed behind the twins.

"Thank God," Ron said, shivering, as the warm scent of milk candy filled the air. "Let's stay here for the afternoon."

"Harry, boy!" a booming voice said behind them.

"Oh no," Harry muttered. They turned around and saw Professor Slughorn wearing an enormous fur hat and a coat with a matching fur collar, clutching a huge bag of jackfruit buns. He took up at least a quarter of the small shop's space.

"Harry, you've already missed three of my little dinner parties!" Slughorn nudged Harry's chest affectionately. "That won't do, son. I was determined to have you come! Miss Granger loves these parties, doesn't she?"

"Yes," Hermione said helplessly, "they really do—"

"Then why didn't you come, Harry?" Slughorn demanded.

"Yes, I'm going to Quidditch training, Professor," Harry said.

He wasn't lying. Every time Slughorn sent him a small invitation tied with a purple ribbon, he would deliberately arrange for the team to train.

He genuinely didn't want to attend that slug banquet.

Slughorn would always try his best to find out about their elders at banquets: Where did their uncle work? Which team were their brothers on? Was their godfather a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic?

This kind of problem makes him very upset.

It was as if someone kept reminding him in his ear that he had no parents and no blood relatives!

"Great, training so hard, you're sure to win your first match!" Slughorn said. "But a little fun now and then won't hurt. So, how about Monday night? You can't possibly train in this weather..."

"Professor, that day I..." Harry hurriedly tried to refuse.

But Slughorn waved his hand and shouted dramatically, "You can't hide from me forever, Harry!"

After saying that, he swaggered out of the candy store, his gaze never lingering on Irving for long.

It seems that Slughorn has completely given up on him.

"I have absolutely no desire to go to that banquet," Harry said, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Let's go to the Three Brooms," he said, glancing at the candy store.

It's too crowded here, and the place is too small; these people can't all sit together.

"Of all of us, you're the only one who still holds any appeal for Professor Slughorn." Hermione pulled her scarf back up to cover her chin. "Think about our purpose."

"I know," Harry replied curtly, sounding rather annoyed.

Meanwhile, Irving turned to George and asked, "What do you want with me?"

There was a hint of displeasure in his tone.

"Let's get together. It's been months," George said.

"Are you sure? You're not going to lend me money?" Owen raised his eyebrows and asked uncertainly.

"What are you thinking about!" Fred said. "Our business has been booming lately; we've made who knows how many Galleons we've earned."

"Heh—I believe you." Owen rolled his eyes at them both. They weren't the type to keep secrets; their carefree faces said it all.

The cold wind on the street stung their faces like knives. It was only late October, and there was already a hint of snow in the Scottish Highlands.

Irving suddenly pointed to a street lamp and said, "Hurry up, if you have something to say, say it. If not—I'll hang you both on the street lamp."

"."

The twins exchanged a glance.

"Okay," George finally said.

"Let's go inside and talk."

The group had arrived at the Three Brooms Tavern.

After entering, I found a secluded spot to sit down.

Hermione brought back several cups of health-promoting milk tea from the milk tea shop.

A certain herbal tea recipe that was passed down during the Ming Dynasty was improved by many people.

It tasted weird, like some kind of Chinese medicine with honey added.

Inside the castle, only Zhang Xiaolin, the great Ming Dynasty wizard, liked this flavor. Since she returned to the Federation in mid-October, the health-preserving milk tea has lost its customers, so the shop has a lot of stock.

Hermione must have brought out a few of these drinks with the intention of using up her own stock.

"Alright, what's the matter?" Owen took a sip of his milk tea.

hiss--

Silently, he pushed the milk tea in his hand away a little.

"Ahem—you wouldn't believe it if I told you," George said in a low voice.

"It all started with Kingsley Shackle," Fred continued. "He's now in charge of protecting the Muggle Prime Minister."

"Hmm—and then?" Irving asked, too concerned.

"We met someone in London a few days ago."

"The messengers said Kingsley sent them," George said mysteriously. "They're not wizards."

"?"

Irving became slightly interested.

"Muggles? Government officials?"