I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 540 Harry's Last Summer Vacation

We are getting a little anxious.

Irving smiled without saying a word.

He didn't want to be so hasty, even though the current situation was fraught with danger.

"But before that, we need to get Harry here first," Ginny added.

"Oh! Yes, how's Harry? The Order of the Phoenix must have made arrangements, right?" Hermione quickly said, seizing the opportunity to back down. "Owen said that the magic his mother left behind will lose its effect after Harry comes of age. We need to bring him back ahead of schedule."

"It needs to be done earlier. I heard from Bill that they already have plans," Ginny said, somewhat indignantly. "I really don't understand why they still wanted Harry to go back to that family, and now they have to find a way to bring him back."

"Because it's unknown—" Owen looked at Ginny and explained, "The magic of love has always been the most mysterious magic in the magical world. The Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic has a special department that studies this kind of magic, but after so many years, they have found nothing. Even Professor Dumbledore doesn't know how this magic works at all. He doesn't even know how to trigger it, and can only attribute the driving force that can trigger this magic to 'love'."

"As for why Harry wanted to go back to his aunt's house, it was his mother's choice. His mother believed that family could protect him, and Harry's last remaining blood relatives were his aunt's family. As long as Harry stayed with them for a while, the magic left by his mother would be recharged and continue to protect him until he reached adulthood."

Why exactly? How does magic work? We still don't know; Dumbledore was simply following Harry's mother's wishes.

"But—" Ginny craned her neck, stubbornly insisting, "Harry's aunt was abusive towards him. Didn't his mother know what kind of person her sister really was? I heard Sirius say—well—that Sirius told Harry about his parents, I overheard—that James and Lily invited the Dursleys to their wedding, but they didn't come. I think Harry's mother must have realized that her sister didn't love her as much as she thought!"

“You don’t know Harry’s mother,” Owen said. “She’s a legend! A Hufflepuff with a heart of pure kindness. She always believed her sister would take good care of her son, and she loved her sister unconditionally. After all, she was her only family.”

"Ha—obviously, she guessed wrong," Ginny said unhappily. "Sirius went to the Dursleys' house two weeks ago and came back furious. Clearly, their conversation didn't go well."

"What's wrong?" Hermione had calmed down by now, and she sat down next to Owen, close to him.

"About the evacuation," Ginny said. "The Dursleys have to move out of London before Harry leaves, for their protection. Hermione, you know this best."

"Hmm—" The little witch's eyes dimmed instantly.

"Mr. Grindelwald seems to have some businesses in the Muggle world. I heard from Roy that they'll arrange everything for the Dursleys in some country in the Far East. Decent jobs, comfortable housing, even more spacious than their house on Privet Road!"

"But that idiot Vernon Dursley just wouldn't agree to move, and he kept insisting that Harry kicked them out to take over their house." Ginny, still seething with anger, took several deep breaths to calm herself down. She added sarcastically, "He probably doesn't know that the gold Sirius left for Harry could cover their entire house."

"Uh," Hermione pursed her lips, feeling utterly speechless.

And Irving—he couldn't understand it either—didn't Vernon watch TV, read newspapers, or know anything about the news?

Last Christmas, Hermione was all the rage on television and in the newspapers. Now she's got the title of princess, after all.

Vernon knew that Hermione and Ron were Harry's good friends.

He had run into them several times at King's Cross Station, so it was impossible for him not to know.

Does he really think the princess's friend would be interested in his shabby house?

It just goes to show that there are all sorts of birds in a big forest; the difference in people's thinking is greater than the difference between people and dogs.

"Alright, let's not talk about that. Has the Order of the Phoenix decided on a date? When are they picking up Harry?" Owen asked.

"I don't know." Ginny shook her head. "They wouldn't give us such important information."

"Owen, is there any danger?" Hermione sensed the worry in Owen's voice.

"It's a bit troublesome, but not much," Owen explained briefly. "It's a tracking spell. You should know that it's a spell that can detect the magical activities of wizards under the age of seventeen. I think it might be related to name magic, like the Marauder's Map, where Tom cast a spell on his name. When you trigger some kind of key, your location is marked."

If Harry uses magic, or if anyone around him uses magic, the Ministry of Magic will detect it. And if there are Death Eaters within the Ministry of Magic, then Tom will naturally know that location as well.

"Threads?" Hermione knew about this, of course. Every year at graduation, Professor McGonagall would emphasize that underage wizards couldn't use magic outside of school, and the Ministry of Magic used threads to monitor them. But—"We've used magic outside all the time for the past few years, and nothing's happened, has it?"

“There are two reasons,” Owen said. “First, distance. Although the threads are on Harry, the Ministry of Magic’s surveillance has a distance limit; beyond a certain distance, it becomes ineffective. I suspect this range only includes certain cities, such as London. In remote areas, the Ministry of Magic can’t detect anything beyond that distance. Second, Hogwarts’ reputation has been steadily rising in recent years, and you are all star young wizards, having fought against Death Eaters several times—so the Ministry of Magic turns a blind eye. Ultimately, using magic outside of school isn’t a serious violation; the main issue is whether it violates the Statute of Secrets.”

"Well—Owen, do you have a way to help Harry?" Hermione stared intently at him, and for some reason, she felt that Owen definitely had a way.

"Hmm—it's simple." Owen pulled the little witch into his arms, kissed her cheek, and said, "Whether it's the goblin's Apparition or the wizard's Portkey, these are spells that would cause a 'trace' reaction when cast on Harry, but the Anywhere Door invented by Nicolas Flamel is not."

"You can think of the Anywhere Door as a bridge that connects different places; magic traverses space. It doesn't affect the person who crosses it."

"Oh, I see!" Hermione said, blushing slightly. "That's wonderful!"

"Hey, hey—" Ginny, who was standing nearby, couldn't stand it anymore and shouted, "I'm still here!"

"It's okay! We don't care!" Owen didn't even glance at her, but simply hugged Hermione tighter.

"Hmph—" Ginny snorted sullenly, then immediately left the living room.

She felt the two of them seemed more affectionate than ever before. Perhaps they'd been sleeping in the same bed for two weeks? Ginny wondered secretly. Hermione hadn't been this bold before, at least not in front of others.

Perhaps—she thought of herself. She was almost sixteen, just a month shy. She wasn't exactly young anymore. As Harry thought about it, the little witch blushed.

Meanwhile, Irving gave Dobby a clock marked with the Anywhere Door, instructing him to take it to the Burrow.

This allows it to travel freely from anywhere.

In the days that followed, he and Hermione went to many places.

Staying in the room is just waiting to get moldy; if you want to experience freedom, you have to go out and see the world.

Moreover, the most intense period of the war in early July had already passed.

As the month drew to a close, the magical world finally found a moment of peace.

Although undercurrents continue, at least openly, the phenomenon of unbridled duels between dark wizards and Aurors has stopped.

They went to the old castle in Derbyshire, Miss Granger's estate.

The castle is located within the famous Peak District National Park.

The surrounding area is beautiful with clear waters and lush mountains.

Like other Muggle castles scattered throughout the Peak District National Park, each with its own distinct style, this place is understated yet luxurious, and far removed from the magical world. Aside from the occasional ordinary Muggle tourist who wanders in with great interest, no wizard would be interested in coming here.

As a vacation destination, this place couldn't be more perfect.

It is said that this castle once belonged to a Muggle duke. Unfortunately, back in the 1930s, the last heir of the family was unable to afford the enormous maintenance costs of the castle and was forced to sell it.

Over the decades that followed, the castle changed hands several times, but none of its owners were willing to spend tens of millions of pounds to maintain and renovate it.

Ultimately, ownership of the castle fell into the hands of the local government. Relying on central government subsidies, the local government provides minimal maintenance for the castle.

Now that it's in Miss Granger's hands, the local government is overjoyed, practically jumping for joy. For them, it's finally a relief to have gotten rid of this money-losing castle.

The castle stands alone in the lush forest.

The castle's stone walls are weathered and worn, the marks of time deeply etched on every stone. Parts of the walls have collapsed, scattering rubble everywhere. The pointed towers still stand, but the window frames are dilapidated, seemingly on the verge of collapse. The castle gates are rusted, the iron locks long since broken, the doors swaying precariously in the wind. Perhaps the work of the local government, the damaged fences are crudely constructed, held together with a few thin wires—it's as if they weren't willing to spend a penny more.

The hillsides surrounding the castle are covered in lush green grass, dotted with wildflowers that exude a delicate fragrance. In the distance, the mountains stretch endlessly. A clear stream cascades down the mountains, gathering at the foot of the castle to form a turquoise lake. The lake's surface shimmers, reflecting the blue sky, white clouds, and the castle's silhouette.

It must be said that the scenery around the castle is absolutely stunning, but as for the main building itself, it would be cheaper to demolish and rebuild than to repair it.

He spent two hours showing Hermione around every room in the castle. They did discover some interesting things about it—the floor tiles and the reliefs on the walls.

The colorful floor tiles with various patterns and the reliefs depicting a story from the Bible are the most valuable items in the entire castle.

Owen didn't care about repairing the castle. With his current wealth, repairing it would be a piece of cake. Besides, he was a wizard, and the magical world had specialized magical construction companies that specialized in maintaining old houses. Hiring them would be much cheaper than hiring Muggles.

However, Hermione disagreed with renovating the castle. She was heartbroken about spending so many Galleons, because they didn't need the castle; they already had enough to live in.

Irving would really like to renovate this place.

Even if it's only for one-time use—it would be great as a wedding venue.

Anyway, he's not short of money now.

In the end, he and Hermione could not reach an agreement.

We can only put this issue aside for later.

Then, Owen left behind more than a dozen protective charms on the hill and around the castle, including Muggle banishment, peace protection, and anti-apparition charms, before departing.

-----

And on Privet Road in London.

In the darkness, Harry was bleeding.

He gripped his right hand with his left, cursing silently, and pushed open the bedroom door with his shoulder. Suddenly, he heard a creaking sound of porcelain breaking under his feet: a cup of cold tea was placed on the ground outside his bedroom door, and he stepped on it.

"How..."

Harry looked around; the landing at number 4 Privet Drive was empty.

This cup of tea was probably Dudley's clever idea to play a prank on him.

Harry, holding his bleeding hand, used his other hand to pick up the shards of the teacup and toss them into the already overflowing trash can behind the bedroom door. Then he walked across the room into the bathroom and rinsed his fingers under the tap.

Four more days without being able to use magic? This is stupid, unreasonable, and infuriating... He's never obeyed this bullshit law before.

But this time, Sirius came specifically to warn him.

This is something Harry still can't understand.

Then he went back to his bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Just now, Harry completely emptied his school trunk, the first time he'd done so since he packed it six years ago.

Every time school started, he would replace or update the top three-quarters of the items in his suitcase, leaving a messy layer of junk at the bottom: old quill pens, dried beetle eyes, and socks that no longer fit and didn't match.

A few minutes earlier, Harry had reached into the clutter, and suddenly felt a piercing pain in his right ring finger. When he pulled it out, it was bleeding profusely.

Now he was more cautious. He knelt down next to the box again and carefully felt around at the bottom, pulling out a worn badge, then a broken and cracked sight glass and an empty bottle, and finally the sharp blade that had cut his finger.

He immediately recognized it as the two-way mirror Sirius had given him; it was two inches long.

He tried to contact Sirius through the mirror several times, but only once in ten times could he get through, and then Sirius would hang up after a few words.

This is one of the reasons why he has become so irritable. Staying here is like being in prison. He knows nothing and is unclear about nothing. Everyone he knows is fighting, but he doesn't even know if they are alive or dead.

This made Harry incredibly frustrated and angry.

(End of this chapter)