I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 524: Attack from two directions simultaneously.

A painting.

To be precise, it's a kind of magical sketch.

Unlike magical portraits, where the figures possess independent consciousness, what Owen holds is more like a magical photograph, a snapshot of a fleeting moment.

The painting depicts a silver-haired girl in a Hogwarts school uniform, leaning against the edge of a sink and looking at her reflection in the mirror.

Suddenly, she sensed someone behind her, whirled around, and after revealing her stunningly beautiful face, turned back to look at herself in the mirror. This process was repeated over and over.

"...This...Susan, did you draw this?" Hermione's expression was complex, filled with incomprehension, confusion, and resentment, with even a fleeting hint of pleasure in her eyes.

"Hermione, listen to my excuse—ah—explain, I didn't—this wasn't drawn by me, but—"

"But you were a participant, weren't you?" Owen narrowed his eyes, looking at Susan with a dangerous gaze.

"I..." Susan's face was filled with panic. She tried to find the right words to explain the situation, but she found that no matter how much she tried to explain, it would only make things worse. "I...I just...I just..." she stammered, her eyes full of pleading. "Provided a little perspective...helped make the scene more realistic."

"Realism?" Several question marks floated above Irving's head. He'd already drawn me like a woman, and you're still talking to me about realism?

I.

"Okay, but I think your composition is a bit strange." Hermione's lips curled into a smile as she snatched all the parchment from Owen's hands, as if afraid he would ruin such a fine piece of work. "Why is the background a bathroom?"

"Because..." Susan stammered as she explained, "the person who drew the picture said he saw Owen in Myrtle's bathroom on the third floor, and he..." As she spoke, she pointed to the drawing in Hermione's hand.

"Ha—lying is one thing, but now you dare to spread such a vicious rumor." Owen glared at Susan. "Are you trying to say that I secretly cross-dress in the bathroom?"

"I didn't, I'm not, that's what you said." With a step back, Susan launched a triple denial.

"Wait, Owen," Hermione stopped the boy. "Since it's Myrtle's bathroom, why don't we just go ask Myrtle?"

Without waiting for his agreement, she grabbed Owen and ran out of the auditorium.

The girls' restroom on the third floor has always been a no-go zone for little wizards.

Because Myrtle was just too annoying.

Even if she doesn't spray the toilet while you're using it, just crying resentfully beside you will definitely kill your interest.

Throughout Hogwarts, it seems that only Hermione and Luna had a truly good relationship with Myrtle. Ginny was originally one of them; in the original stories, she was controlled by Voldemort and opened the Chamber of Secrets, spending a long time in the bathroom, after which she became friends with Myrtle. However, because Dumbledore eliminated the Basilisk ahead of time, Ginny lost contact with Myrtle. She knew of this special ghost, but their relationship wasn't particularly close.

As soon as I entered the washroom.

The two of them stepped into the water.

Although the place has been renovated, the leaking water is not caused by aging pipes.

"There's definitely no one here." Owen glanced at the cubicles. "If that imposter was discovered, how could he possibly still be hiding here?"

"I know," Hermione said, then carefully cast several Prototype Spells, golden light scattering around and illuminating all traces of magic.

"Look there—" she said, pointing to a cubicle closest to the central shower stall.

"What's wrong?" Owen had already noticed the residual magic there. "Looks like someone's brewing potions here?"

"Who else in the castle besides you would secretly brew potions?"

Hermione turned and glared at him. Why did his words sound so strange, as if she had done something shameful before?

"Do you remember in Potions class, Snape said that a lot of his collection had recently been stolen?" the little witch said.

"Hmm—you think that person was brewing potions here? Using the ingredients he stole?"

"Very likely," Hermione nodded. "This place is perfect; no one will come. As long as..."

As they spoke, the ghost of a girl rose from a toilet behind them, floating in mid-air, her eyes staring at them from behind thick, round white glasses.

"I heard the noise downstairs, but I didn't expect it to be the two of you!" she said sullenly. "You haven't been here in a long time."

"Hey, Myrtle." Hermione looked at her with a gentle expression. "You've been busy with schoolwork, and a lot has happened lately, you must have heard."

"I know, Your Highness!" Myrtle emphasized the last four words, her expression filled with envy. As a Muggle-born wizard herself, she felt even more envious of the title.

"Ahem." Hermione looked slightly embarrassed, but she quickly composed herself and changed the subject, "Um—has anyone been secretly brewing potions here lately?"

"This is none of your business," Myrtle glared angrily at Hermione. "If it weren't for finding out the truth, you would never have come here, would you!"

"How could that be!" Hermione exclaimed quickly. "We're friends."

"I dare not be friends with a princess." Myrtle glared at them, then somersaulted back into the toilet, splashing water everywhere.

"Wait—don't go!"

Hermione was too late to call out to Myrtle, because by the time she opened her mouth, Myrtle had already vanished.

"Alright. The last clue is gone."

The little witch sighed and turned to look at Owen again.

"Someone is secretly brewing potions here, which may be related to the poisoning. Perhaps, as Ron said, the murderer really is in the castle."

"We can't pry open the ghosts' mouths; truth serum and mind control spells are useless against them," Irving said.

"Perhaps we have a better way." Hermione frowned and left with Owen.

He walked and pondered.

Just as she reached the top of the stairs again, she suddenly looked up, a bold idea sprouting in her little head. Then she looked at Owen with a half-smile.

"I have an idea!"

"I don't want to do it!" Owen glanced at the little witch; he had already guessed Hermione's plan.

"This is the simplest plan, as long as..." she said, her eyes shining with eagerness, "I can lend you my clothes."

"I would never cross-dress. I have never crossed-dressed before, and I never will," Owen said righteously.

Hermione's plan is very easy to guess.

The biggest difference between the imposter and the real person is that the imposter is wearing a girl's school uniform. If he changes into women's clothing, he can impersonate the imposter. Then, he can try to get information out of Madam Myrtle, and the truth will immediately come out.

"Just give it a try!" Hermione said. "Do you want to keep poisoning people?"

“…” Owen stared into her eyes. “I don’t think you’re looking for a killer at all.”

"Of course I'm here to find the killer!" she said righteously.

"I don't believe it at all."

Under Owen's suspicious gaze, Hermione's smile grew even brighter.

------

Several days passed, and they still hadn't taken any action.

They've already alerted the enemy.

The snake now needs to calm down from its alert state.

It doesn't matter if she changes her potion-making location, as long as she continues making them. We can't let her give up because of the disturbance, otherwise, without physical evidence, it will be difficult to convince others.

About a week later.

One morning, Owen bumped into Harry in the Great Hall.

He told himself that Hagrid had sent a note about Aragog's death.

After persisting for so long, the old spider finally ended its long life, earlier than recorded in the original story. This may be related to the fact that Owen burned many of its offspring to death a few years earlier.

Hagrid later mentioned on many occasions that Aragog was saddened by the destruction of its descendants, and it always condemned the students in the castle and Dumbledore.

However, most young wizards thought this was a good thing; no one would like a monster like the eight-eyed giant spider.

What's more, they eat people.

Irving looked at the note; the handwriting was quite messy, and there were large ink stains on the paper, probably from tears, making it difficult to decipher.

—Dear Harry, Ron, and Hermione:

—Aragok died last night. If possible, I hope you can attend the funeral tonight; it means a lot to me. I plan to hold the funeral at dusk, which is his favorite time of day. I know you are not allowed to come out that late, but you can use an invisibility cloak or some other method. I didn't want to make this request, but I can't face it alone.

—Hagrid

"So you're planning to see Hagrid tonight?"

"That's right," Harry affirmed. "I will be with Hermione."

"No, I'm sorry Harry, it seems you'll have to go alone tonight," Hermione said. "Owen and I have other things to do."

"It's alright," Harry said nonchalantly. "It's just me and Ron."

"Delusion!" Ron roared, becoming agitated. "Me, attend a spider's funeral? I'd rather be poisoned again right now. Alright, buddy, you go in our place this time."

"Okay," Harry said regretfully, "I'm fine on my own."

After saying that, he was about to go back to his dormitory. He didn't have class this morning, but he had a potions class in the afternoon.

As for Ron, he and Hermione had to take the Apparitions test. They would have to skip their afternoon classes.

"Wait, Harry," Owen called to him. Then he took a small crystal bottle from his pocket and handed it to him.

"What is this?" Harry looked at the bottle in his hand, which was only about half the size of a fingernail, and was filled with a golden liquid.

"Felix Felicis!" He had a deep impression of this potion and always remembered it.

“That’s right,” Owen said. “I gave you a quarter of it; the effects should last for about three hours.”

Remember to drink the potion first when you go to Hagrid's place in the evening, then go find Slughorn!

"Slughorn?" Harry was taken aback and looked at Owen in confusion.

"The venom of the eight-eyed giant spider is a very precious magical material, let alone that of Aragog, the king of the eight-eyed giant spiders! Slughorn will definitely be interested. Just play it by ear. This will be a good opportunity for you to obtain the memories. Oh, and remember to get some venom for me too. It's a very precious material."

"I understand!" Harry nodded solemnly.

Afterwards, Owen and Hermione went to their alchemy class.

Harry and Ron went back to their dormitory.

In the afternoon, on their way to the underground classrooms, Owen and Harry parted ways with Hermione and Ron in the foyer; they were going to take their exams.

"Good luck to you," Harry said.

"Don't worry, it'll be a piece of cake," Ron said. Then, full of confidence, he followed the students taking the exam out of the castle to the open space outside.

There were only a handful of people in the Potions class that day.

Harry, Owen, Ernie, and Draco.

Even Koyatl wasn't there, because she hadn't obtained her Apparition Certificate in Iphamoni either, and she also needed to take the exam.

She could have taken the exam last year, but she forgot to register.

She joined Hogwarts last Halloween.

After Christmas, registration for Apparition began. At that time, her relationship with the young wizards wasn't very good, and Owen wouldn't have thought to remind her to register for the Apparition exam. What truly made her feel integrated into Hufflepuff was the subsequent OWL exam.

During Potions class, Slughorn looked at the four of them and asked kindly, "None of you are old enough to Apparate? Not even seventeen yet?"

The group nodded.

Irving's birthday is June 27th. He was in third grade when his aunt told him this; he had no idea what his birthday was before.

Harry and Erindraco both have birthdays between late April and September.

As for the young wizards after September, they will be placed in the next school year because they were under eleven years old when they were admitted. This is why Hermione is a year older than them.

"Alright," Slughorn said cheerfully, "Since there are so few of us, let's not follow the textbook. Let's do something fun! I want each of you to give me something interesting!"

"That sounds wonderful, sir," Ernie immediately flattered, rubbing his hands together.

Draco, however, didn't smile at all. He asked irritably, "What do you mean, something 'interesting'?"

"Oh, just give me a surprise," Slughorn replied casually. "Anything will do, any potion, whatever you're best at or want to concoct. Hmm, preferably a modified version of your own recipe, something that will interest me."

Draco, with a stern face, opened his book, "Advanced Potion Making." Out of the corner of Owen's eye, he noticed that the other's textbook was covered with dense writing.

Besides that, he also noticed that the other person's skin had become paler, his platinum blonde hair had turned silver-gold, and his hair had grown quite long, resembling Bill's hairstyle.

It seems that Voldemort was quite devastated to learn of his parents' betrayal.

Harry didn't notice any of this; he was thinking about what Owen had told him that morning and was about to show off his skills to get closer to Slughorn.

He opened his book, "Advanced Potions Making," and the booklet Hermione had compiled.

Then, from among the many potions, he chose one called the Joy Potion. It seemed to not only meet Slughorn's requirements, but if he could taste a little, it might make him overjoyed and hand over his memories.

"Ah, this looks wonderful!" Slughorn exclaimed, clapping his hands as he stared at the sun-kissed golden liquid in Harry's cauldron an hour and a half later. "A euphoric concoction, isn't it? Wait, what's this flavor? Hmm, you added a tiny sprig of peppermint, didn't you? Not very orthodox, but what a brilliant idea, Harry! Of course, it can counteract the occasional side effects of singing too much and pinching your nose. I really don't know where you got these brilliant ideas from, my child, unless…"

Harry gave a response smile.

"—It means your mother's genes have manifested in you."

"Maybe," Harry said with a sigh of relief.

"Alright, let me see Mr. Rozier." Slughorn's interest was piqued. He walked to Owen's cauldron. "What is this?" Just by sniffing the potion and observing its color, Slughorn deduced what kind of potion Owen had brewed. "A vitality tonic, is it?"

"Yes, sir," Owen said. His most skilled potions were Vitality Tonics and Energy Potions. Years ago, he brewed many of these potions to energize Miss Granger, and even invented many different flavors of potions.

"Hmm—" Slughorn took a sip. "It tastes like strawberry, with a hint of mint. I feel a gentle current flowing from my lower abdomen to my limbs. Oh—it's milder than a normal vitality tonic. I guess you must have managed to overcome its side effects. Right?"

"Yes."

"Incredible!" Slughorn said. "It is well known that vitality tonics cannot be used for a long time because potions do not really give you rest. They only eliminate your feeling of fatigue and increase the activity of magic in a wizard's body. Long-term use may result in sudden death, neurasthenia, and limb spasms. Even milder cases may have the aftereffects of dizziness, tinnitus, and insomnia."

"Your potion has completely changed everything."

"But it still can't be used for extended periods," Irving said.

"Of course. Potions cannot replace sleep," Slughorn said.

As he spoke, he came up to Draco.

Then he frowned.

"You are brewing a very complex potion."

"Mmm," he responded softly.

"Very bold, but I think you'll need at least twenty days," Slughorn said, then went to Ernie's side. After seeing a clump of purple, viscous substance in the crucible, he walked away without saying a word.

As soon as the bell rang, the little wizards left.

Slughorn walked very fast. Harry had originally wanted to let him try his euphoria potion, so that he might save on Felix Felicis, but unfortunately, there was no chance at all.

(End of this chapter)