I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 525 It's you!

Afterwards, he and Irving went to the auditorium.

There's no rush to use Felix Felicis now, as there's still some time before the funeral.

The effects of Frucrine only last for three hours.

The hall was filled with young wizards, most of whom had just finished their exams and were congratulating each other.

Unsurprisingly, Hermione passed the test smoothly.

Her performance was impeccable; from now on, she can legally use Apparition.

Ron passed the exam perfectly, even though he had some worries beforehand.

The same applies to Hannah and Justin, not to mention Koyatl.

It's rare to see a young wizard fail the exam.

Almost everyone passed.

An hour before dinner, Harry drank Felix Felicis in front of everyone.

"How are you feeling?" Ron asked curiously.

Harry didn't answer immediately. He felt he had drunk something very sweet, and then, slowly but definitely, an incredibly exhilarating feeling flowed through his body, as if he had unlimited opportunities. He felt he could do anything, anything...

Obtaining the memories from Slughorn suddenly seemed not only possible, but incredibly easy...

"Wonderful, absolutely wonderful," he said with a smile. "This feeling is indescribable; I've never felt anything like it before."

"Okay, I see."

I don't know if it's Ron.

Hermione, along with Koyatl, Hannah, and Justin, and anyone who saw Harry now, would be drawn to his confident demeanor.

Everyone could clearly feel the aura of good fortune emanating from him.

"What should we do now?" Hermione asked.

"Hmm, let's go back to the common room first," Harry said after a moment's thought.

"Shouldn't we go find Slughorn first and tell him about the funeral?"

"I don't know." Harry got up and walked outside. "I just feel like going back to the common room will do me a good thing."

With that, Harry quickly disappeared outside the foyer.

On the other side, Hermione looked at Owen.

"Maybe you need a little bit of luck too?" she said.

"I didn't agree to that."

"I know, maybe you should go after dinner. There will be fewer people there." The little witch completely ignored what Owen said.

"Why does it have to be me? Can't you do it yourself? Here's a strand of your hair, go get it!"

"It will take more than twenty days to brew the compound decoction," Hermione said. "Do you think we have more than twenty days left?"

"Why isn't it more than twenty days?" Owen muttered, but Miss Granger's sharp eyes told him that he definitely couldn't escape.

Fine!

It's just women's clothing!

It's not like I've never dressed as a woman before!

Owen was going all out. He glanced at Hermione and warned her, "Don't follow me."

"Of course, no problem!" Hermione said happily.

With Owen gone, all the other young wizards turned their attention to Hermione.

"I heard about Polyjuice Potion. What kind of scheme are you plotting now?" Ron stared intently at Hermione.

"I know, Susan told me you were planning to have Owen impersonate that person, right?" Ginny said, her eyes shining. "So, he's going to change his 'clothes'?"

"Hey! I guarantee there will be a lot of people who want to peek."

"Ginny!" Hermione said, raising her voice with a stern face.

"Uh—okay, just kidding." Ginny waved her hand and said, "Someone at school is secretly brewing compound decoctions, which is really not good news."

Upon hearing this, Ron dismissively said, "It's not poison, just a compound decoction."

"What do you know?" Ginny said. "Compound Elixir isn't a Disillusionment Charm; it completely transforms your body into someone else. What if a boy uses it to do something bad?"

"Something bad happened?" Ron glanced at Koyatl. "Broken into the girls' dormitory?"

"."

"Ron," Ginny said speechlessly, "you're hopeless."

"What do you mean 'hopeless'? Explain yourself." Ron frowned, his face full of confusion.

"If you were her, what would you do?" Ginny asked, pointing at Koyatl. "It's worse than the Daydream Charm Fred and George bought."

Ultimately, the Daydream Spell is limited to the caster's imagination. Since he has never seen it, he naturally cannot imagine it, or he may have a wrong imagination.

But compound decoctions are different; they truly transform a person into a completely different individual.

Who knows what some perverts might use it for?

"Uh—" Ron looked embarrassed. He probably knew what Ginny was worried about.

He immediately put on a serious expression. "That's right, this is terrible. We have to catch that imposter immediately."

Just kidding, there are plenty of pretty girls in the castle. But if we're talking about the prettiest, besides Owen, it's Koyatl.

Although Hermione, Parvati Petit, and Luna are all good, statistically speaking, the freak is clearly more likely to choose Koyatl.

Ginny rolled her eyes at Ron. "Now you know how to panic?"

"Compound Elixir, I know that potion." At this moment, Koyatel suddenly spoke up, "What I'm more curious about is how that person obtained Owen's body tissue."

Compound decoctions must contain the target body tissues, such as fresh blood, hair, or nails.

These things are probably hard for anyone other than people close to you, like your roommates.

"You'll have to ask Justin and Ernie," Ginny said. "They have the best chance because they're roommates with Irving."

"They wouldn't dare," Koyatl said succinctly, his crimson eyes filled with indifference.

"Who knows? Hermione combs his hair all day long. It's not unusual for someone to find a few strands in the Great Hall or the Room of Requirement," Ron said nonchalantly.

"Hmm?" Hermione narrowed her eyes, a dangerous aura emanating from her. "Are you saying I'm the culprit, Ron?"

"I didn't." Ron leaned back.

"This is just one possibility."

"Hmph—" The little witch snorted softly, then picked up her textbook and got up to leave.

She promised Irving she wouldn't go with him.

But they didn't agree to not arrive early and then wait.

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.

the other side.

On his way to the restroom on the third floor, Irving also drank a quarter of the Felix Felicis.

In an instant, a feeling as if he had been gently kissed by Lady Luck surged into his heart.

Countless chaotic emotions surged wildly in his mind.

It was as if countless fine threads appeared before him, and he knew which thread he could pull to help him achieve his goal.

He quickly changed into Hermione's clothes, loosened the ribbon binding his braids, and his long silver hair cascaded down like a silver river. The dim light illuminated his face, giving him a gentle, ethereal look. He seemed like an ancient goddess descending to earth, leaving behind a trail of fragrance and countless memories before disappearing down the corridor.

Irving stepped into Myrtle's bathroom.

Then we arrived at the innermost cubicle.

He said nothing, as if his body was being controlled, and took out a large pile of potion-making equipment from the pocket at his waist.

Then he lit the crucible and began to pretend to brew the potion.

Even Owen himself didn't know what kind of potion he was brewing; he seemed to be simply repeating the actions that the person he and Hermione had guessed would do when they came over.

The flames scorched the bronze crucible, and soon the water boiled.

And it makes a "gurgling" sound.

Just then, Irving heard soft sobbing behind him.

A transparent ghost emerged from the toilet. It floated lightly down from the air into the cubicle where he was.

"Hello, you haven't come for days," Myrtle said. "Are you like those awful boys?"

"I'm in trouble." Luck controlled Irving's mouth to say these words.

"Really?" Myrtle's sobbing stopped abruptly after he said that. "Yes, you're bound to run into trouble. What's wrong? Is it a problem with the potion? Do you have enough ingredients?"

"Barely," Irving said.

"Oh, that's alright." Myrtle adopted a more relaxed tone. "I can keep an eye on Snape for you. You can sneak in quietly like before, and no one will notice. Just avoid Peeves, of course."

"He wouldn't dare act recklessly in front of me," Owen said. "Peeves hides when he sees me."

"Hey! It only hides when it sees Irving; you can't keep pretending to be him forever. Looks like you brewed a lot of compound decoctions this time? Quite a lot?"

"fine."

"Oh—you can try. They broke into the headmaster's office. Dumbledore isn't at the castle tonight; he won't be back until tomorrow morning. I heard from Nick that the Minister of Magic is going to have some kind of meeting with him again. Anyway, this is the third time this month."

"Minister of Magic?" Owen was slightly taken aback by the voice. He had no idea what to say, but luck had already spoken for him, "It's Scrimgeour?"

"It doesn't seem so," Myrtle said. "It seems to be another name."

"Oh, thank you—" Owen stood up and pushed open the cubicle door. "Thank you for telling me all this."

"If you could come more often, that would be a real thank you."

"Yes," Owen said, then quickly disappeared down the corridor.

the other side.

Outside the castle, in front of Hagrid's door, Harry knocked on the door.

"You've come," Hagrid said hoarsely as he opened the door and saw Harry appear before him, having lifted the Invisibility Cloak.

"Yes—Ron and Hermione can't come, they're so sorry."

"No—it's alright, but he'll be touched that you came, Harry."

Hagrid sobbed loudly. He had made himself a black armband, which looked like it was made from rags soaked in shoe polish. His eyes were red and swollen, and Harry patted his arm comfortingly, the highest he could reach without much effort.

"Where should we bury it? In the woods?"

"God, no," Hagrid said, wiping his tears with his shirt. "Now that Aragok is dead, the other spiders won't let me near their webs. It seems they're only refraining from eating me because of his orders. Yesterday I went there rashly and they warned me, which angered Bakal, who burned down half of the giant spiders' nest. With this fire attack, even Aragok's orders might not work now. In any case, we'd better not go into the Forbidden Forest."

"Oh, really?" Harry felt a surge of secret delight.

A side glance revealed the silver, eggshell-eyed dragon lying in the simple nest Hagrid had made for it in his hut, right next to the fireplace.

When he looked at it, the dragon seemed to understand him; it opened its eyes, glanced at Harry, and then closed them again.

Harry waved to Bakal.

"The giant octopus spider usually eats the corpses of its own kind. I also took Aragog's body with Barker's help. I wanted to give it a dignified funeral."

He started sobbing again, and Harry reached out and patted his arm, as if by luck. "Hagrid, I just ran into Professor Slughorn on the road. He was talking to Professor Sprout about herbs. He heard about Aragog and wants to come to the funeral."

"Really?" Hagrid was both surprised and touched. "That's such a kind person. Not only did he not report you, but he also came to see Aragog off. I don't know Slughorn very well. He always looked down on me when we were in school, but he's coming to see Aragog off? Hmm, it will like it, Aragog..."

"Hagrid, you still haven't said where you plan to bury it? Not in your garden, is it?"

"No, I want to bury it behind the pumpkin patch," Hagrid choked out. "I've already dug the grave, I'm all ready, but I feel we should say something, something nice, something to remember it by, something to put it at peace..."

His voice trembled and he stopped abruptly, then there was a knock on the door.

He turned to open the door, blowing his nose with a large, spotted handkerchief as he did so.

Slughorn strode in, carrying several bottles of liquor and wearing a black scarf around his neck.

"Hagrid!" he said in a low, solemn voice, "I am very sad."

"You're so kind, Professor!" Hagrid said. "Thank you so much, and thank you for ignoring Harry's detention..."

"I never would have imagined this," Slughorn said. "A sad night, a sad night. I suddenly remembered, Aragog must have been the spider you kept when you were at Hogwarts, right? So many years have passed in the blink of an eye. Alas, where is that poor creature now?"

"Outside," Hagrid said in a trembling voice, "Shall we...shall we begin now?"

Slughorn nodded, and the five of them went into the back garden.

A chilly evening breeze blew gently, and the moon cast a pale light through the gaps in the trees, mingling with the light from Hagrid's window, illuminating Aragog's body lying beside a large pit, next to a ten-foot-high mound of fresh earth.

Slughorn followed Hagrid all the way to the spider's head and examined it closely.

The eight milky-white eyes stared blankly at the sky, while the two large, curved claws remained motionless in the moonlight, sending chills down one's spine.

"This must be Aragog, it's beautiful." Slughorn said, bending down in front of the giant turtle, seemingly examining its hairy head.

"Not everyone can appreciate its beauty, but for those who understand it, Aragog's allure is boundless," Hagrid said tenderly to Slughorn's back, tears streaming down his wrinkled face.

"Hagrid," Slughorn said, "I don't mean to disrespect your partner, but the venom of the Octopoda is extremely rare. Could you let me take a vial or two? Of course, purely for academic research."

"Oh, well, it's not needed now, is it?" Hagrid said, wiping away tears from the corner of his eye.

"Thank you." With that, Slughorn took the ampoule out of his pocket.

Harry walked over as well. He remembered Owen's request, of course, and took about half a gallon of venom.

After doing all this, Slughorn and Harry returned to Hagrid's side.

"May I say a few words?" he asked, patting Hagrid's elbow.

"certainly."

Then, Slughorn spoke in a slow, manorous tone, "Farewell, Aragog, you are the king of all spiders. Your body may decay, but your spirit will live on. May your human friends find solace in the grief of losing you."

"That's...that's too beautiful to say!" Hagrid howled, collapsing onto the dung heap and crying even harder.

"Alright, alright," Slughorn said, waving his wand. A large mound of dirt rose up, weighing heavily on the dead spider and forming a smooth hill. "Let's go in and have a drink. Help him over there, Harry. Oh, and get up, Hagrid. Okay."

The shadows cast by the moon stretched long at their feet, and the silver light outlined their figures in the darkness.

A cool breeze rustled through the forbidden forest. The branches and leaves danced in the wind.

Even the silver light seemed to leap up.

Irving crossed the corner of the corridor.

It leaves a silver glow in the darkness.

Before long, he arrived at the entrance to the principal's office.

By this time, he had already changed out of Miss Granger's clothes and into his own.

At the entrance, the dripping stone beast automatically jumped aside when Owen approached, and the wall behind it split in two, revealing a slowly ascending spiral staircase.

He has already received approval from the principal's office and can enter without a password.

Jumping up the spiral staircase and pushing aside the oak doors, Owen quickly arrived at the spacious and beautiful circular room.

"As expected, no one is here."

He glanced briefly at both sides but didn't see Dumbledore, or even Fawkes the Phoenix.

Most of the portraits of the principal on the wall show him sleeping with his eyes closed, and only a few people notice him.

"It's so late, Owen. What brings you here?" The one who spoke was the portrait of Principal Dexter, which was placed on the far right, near the dome.

"I'll wait and see." Owen didn't explain much, but instead found a dark corner to squat down and cast an illusion spell on himself.

"Waiting for a rabbit to run into a tree stump?" Principal Dexter smiled amusedly, but did not press the matter further. Instead, he slowly closed his eyes and, like the other principals, pretended to be asleep.

Irving didn't actually know if the imposter would come over tonight.

But luck told him that he should do it.

What followed was a long, agonizing wait.

Irving felt like at least an hour had passed.

He speculated that at this point, Harry might have even obtained Slughorn's memories and was returning to Hogwarts.

If no one comes by then, the effects of Felix Felicis will wear off.

(End of this chapter)