I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 584 The Final Battle at Hogwarts (Part Two)

Just as the boy was about to say something last.

Suddenly, a voice resounded throughout Hogwarts.

The voice was high-pitched, cold, and clear, and it was impossible to tell where it came from; it seemed to be emanating from the wall itself.

"I know you are preparing to resist."

Terrified screams erupted from the students in the auditorium. Some huddled together, looking around in panic to find the source of the sound.

"Your efforts are futile; you are no match for me. All resistance is a foolish act. I do not wish to kill you; I have great respect for the professors of Hogwarts. I do not wish for wizards to shed blood."

The auditorium was completely silent, a silence that seemed to weigh heavily on everyone's eardrums. The silence was so immense that it seemed the auditorium could not contain it all.

"You may choose to surrender. This is the wisest choice. Surrender to me, a god, and there is nothing shameful about it. Surrender to me, and I will mercifully forgive all your past sins."

"Finally, hand over Harry Potter and that Owen Rozier. Hand them over, and I will reward you; hand them over, and you will become messengers of God in the new world."

"I'll give you one hour."

Upon hearing these voices, Irving's expression didn't change much; he even wanted to laugh.

Threatening is useless at this point.

Those who can instigate rebellion, can they really surrender now?

It's like a dream.

"It's alright." Wenda's voice was very weak as she lay in the hospital bed. "I think you've been waiting impatiently."

"Go quickly," she urged.

Owen and Hermione exchanged a glance.

In the end, he did not offer any further advice.

As she said, this was her choice, and it was time for the conflict that stemmed from sixty or seventy years ago to come to an end.

The two left the school clinic, under Wenda's watchful eye.

Her brown pupils gradually widened.

My thoughts drifted back to the past like the wind, crossing mountains and rivers.

Crossing cities and countryside.

Finally, we arrived at the beginning of time.

It lingers at a midsummer ball.

Amidst the fireworks, in the garden outside Rozier Castle.

A young boy is talking with a group of young people.

He seemed to have sensed something.

He looked up, and her heterochromatic eyes met his.

The fireworks painted the night sky with a crimson glow.

The light shone on the two of them.

Everything was predetermined.

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.

On the other side, inside the auditorium.

Silence swallowed them all up again.

The students gasped in fear, each turning their heads to look for Harry and Owen.

Suddenly a Slytherin cried out, "It's Potter! He's over there! Grab him!"

"It's Pansy Parkinson," she screamed, raising her trembling arms.

Harry had just come to the Great Hall from the school nurse's office.

I happened to run into them.

Sirius Black immediately stood in front of Harry.

And there's Ron, Ginny, and the others.

A group of Gryffindor students stepped forward and blocked Harry's path.

Immediately, the Hufflepuff students rose to their feet, and the Ravenclaw students did the same almost simultaneously. Wands were drawn from all directions—from under cloaks, from sleeves—all pointed at Pansy.

"Thank you, Miss Parkinson!" Professor McGonagall said clearly and decisively. "You and Mr. Filch can leave the auditorium first, and the other students who want to leave can follow."

After a brief silence, the sound of benches clattering and scraping could be heard. Most of the Slytherins on the other side of the Great Hall had left, but some chose to stay.

Voldemort is now a monster, everyone knows that, and not all the pure-blood families support him.

More often, it was families who were coerced or threatened by Voldemort, and they had no choice but to support him.

Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs naturally all stayed behind.

A small portion of Ravenclaws left.

However, Professor McGonagall did not agree with so many people staying.

Especially Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, many of them are still first or second-year wizards, what use would they be if they stayed here?

Ultimately, due to the professor's firm stance, all the wizards below the fifth year were forcibly removed from the Great Hall.

The Order of the Phoenix has dispatched some personnel to be responsible for transferring these young wizards to Thornfield Castle.

As time went by, more and more wizards appeared in the Great Hall.

"Mom!" Neville called out, rushing over and looking at her in disbelief. "Why are you here? You wrote to me saying they sent some Death Eaters to capture you. I was really worried something would happen to you."

"We are seasoned veterans." The visitors were Neville's parents.

After they fully recovered last year, they joined the Federation's special operations team.

They have been fighting "imposters" in regions such as Egypt.

"Merlin! Grandma, what brings you here?" Neville looked on in disbelief at the elderly woman following behind his parents.

"What, you've learned a few spells and now you think you're so powerful that you can look down on your own grandmother?" Mrs. Lombard said loudly, "My son, daughter-in-law, and grandson are all here, so of course I have to be here too."

"Besides, Death Eaters are no match for me. I took them down with just a few curses."

"But what about your age?"

"Age is no problem, I saw quite a few old acquaintances." Mrs. Longbottom looked around defiantly, "Back in Hogwarts, I was the one who taught Alastor Moody and the others their spells."

"Mrs. Longbottom was a very famous Auror back in the day," Sirius explained to Harry from the side.

"The Longbottom family has a long tradition of being Aurors. Neville's grandfather and great-grandfather were both Aurors."

"That's really amazing," Harry exclaimed.

Of course, Mrs. Lombard did not mention the deeper reasons.

She had already witnessed the horrific torture inflicted on her son and daughter-in-law.

She was there to prevent this from happening.

Either she will die before her sons, or they will all live.

Or, for the glory of the Longbottom family!

Today, three generations of this family have died together for justice; there will never be a fourth possibility!

It was already late at night.

But as news of the final battle swept across Britain like a hurricane, people emerged from their hiding places and began arriving at Hogwarts.

They must fight!

Fight Voldemort to the death!

This war will determine the future of the magical world. If we back down now, we may never have another chance. No one wants to miss out.

Now, each person who enters brings immense joy to everyone present. This means that their power has grown even stronger.

Among them were parents of students, many students who had graduated years ago, and wizards who had fled from being hunted by dark wizards. All of these people spontaneously returned to the school to participate in the Battle of Hogwarts.

Percy, panting heavily from running so fast, peered through his crooked, horn-framed glasses at the crowd gathered in the hall and shouted, "The Federation's reinforcements have arrived. Quite a few; after all, this is the final battle."

Bill and Fleur also came over to deliver the news.

"Charlie, along with the Aurors from Algeria and neighboring countries, is also on his way."

"Spain, Greece, Italy, Egypt, Bulgaria."

"France and Germany."

"The United States, Russia, and the Far East."

"Almost every country has sent Aurors."

The speaker was Ms. Serphine Carma, the Secretary General of the Federation.

She was accompanied by almost all the members of the Federation's special operations team.

"This is the final battle, for the wizards!" she shouted, pumping her fist.

"For the wizards!"

"For the wizards!!!" the crowd shouted!

For that legend that will never fade.

Magic can never be enslaved.

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.

Gleneagles, a hill village in Perth-Kinrossshire.

The night was quiet and cloudless, and the cool moonlight shone on the earth, enveloping the entire city in a world of silver and white.

A slight chill emanated from all directions. Apart from the faint glow of the streetlights, many houses also had their lights on.

Today is New Year's Day.

Along a highway leading to a remote town, many houses on both sides of the road have Christmas trees decorated with colorful lights in front of their doors.

They were gathered together enjoying dinner.

Just then, a roaring sound came from the end of the road, the loud noise shattering the tranquility of the night. People who were still awake curiously gathered at their windows or opened their doors.

Peeking out and peering around.

That was when people realized that an army had appeared at the other end of the road as the roaring sound grew closer and clearer.

Tanks, armored vehicles, and artillery tractors are all available.

A low rumble could be heard intermittently across the sky.

A dozen or so fighter jets flew by, a scene that inevitably brought to mind the disaster that struck London.

Gradually, a sense of panic spread from the houses on both sides of the road to more distant places.

"Is another war about to break out?"

This thought suddenly popped into the minds of many people.

They had long heard that their country was at war with wizards.

The entire nation of Owen is at war with wizards.

Ordinary people simply cannot distinguish between Death Eaters, Aurors, and the Federation.

All they found were wizards, and wizards were villains, evil elements, and terrorists who attempted to assassinate the Queen and the Prime Minister.

Although the Federation has been working to ease tensions between wizards and Muggles during the war, their efforts have been utterly ineffective.

Anti-witness sentiment spread from Berlin all the way to Cairo.

From London to Athens, almost the entire Western European region and the countries along the Mediterranean coast harbored extreme hatred towards wizards.

Rumors are circulating that the Vatican has begun forming a new group of witch-hunting priests.

The legendary Knights Templar, the Crusaders, may soon return to this world.

巫师

This term has become a source of deep-seated fear in people's hearts.

Watching the armored vehicles slowly and steadily drive along the road, and hearing the piercing sound of their brakes echoing in the darkness, everyone felt uneasy.

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.

"Damn it, it's New Year's Day! Don't wizards know they should rest?" A pair of elite soldiers in an armored vehicle, wearing night vision goggles and camouflage uniforms and armed with several weapons, were silently inspecting their equipment when one of the soldiers suddenly shouted with a grim expression.

"Come on, you're just too slow. If you were fast enough, you wouldn't have received the notice to return to base so soon after lying down in bed." One of his teammates looked at him with a grin.

"What? You're fast?"

"Fuck you, Johnny."

"But those wizards probably don't really celebrate New Year's or Christmas. Maybe Jesus was a wizard?" someone else chimed in.

They all knew of the existence of those wizards, but Jesus...

If the Bible isn't a fairy tale, then damn it, it might actually be a wizard's autobiography.

The soldier named Johnny pursed his lips but didn't say anything.

Britain is, after all, a Christian country, and such a portrayal of Jesus would be offensive.

"I heard this is supposed to be the final battle—the ultimate final battle!"

"Where did you hear that from?" Johnny asked.

"Hey—I have a comrade who's a pilot on the NATO Combined Fleet."

"He was also recalled."

"The Combined Fleet has been deployed too?" Johnny asked, slightly surprised. His eyes suddenly widened, as if he'd just remembered something. "Holy crap, the Combined Operations Command isn't planning to use that kind of weapon to wipe out all the wizards in one fell swoop, is they?!"

"They're about to have their final battle."

"Who says otherwise?" His comrade shrugged. "If you ask me, we should just use nuclear weapons to wipe them out. The Russians have brought it up several times at the UN General Assembly. Who cares about good guys or bad guys? Wizards should be wiped out completely. What if one day a dangerous individual with a magic wand suddenly jumps out on the street shouting 'Long live the real thing!' and indiscriminately attacks ordinary people? Their magical abilities are not easy to deal with."

"Take advantage of this opportunity"

"Shut up, Rokos." Commander Valerie V looked sternly at her subordinate.

"Keep quiet. Instead of wasting time, think carefully about the tactics your instructors taught you for fighting wizards."

"Don't worry, Captain, I won't forget."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Then silence returned to the armored vehicle, with only the buzzing of the radio still lingering in the ears.

The journey was unimpeded.

And at the end of the road, their final destination gradually began to take shape.

It was a range of mountains.

According to the location marked by the intelligence, they were still ten miles (16 kilometers) away from their destination.

"Everyone get off the bus."

"Get all the cannon barrels up for me!" Valerie, the on-site commander, shouted crudely, her pretty face adding to the eerie atmosphere.

"Where are the satellite maps?" she called out again.

Then Rocos, who had been arguing with Johnny, came over and took out something that looked like a tablet from his backpack.

After it is turned on.

A clear satellite map appeared in front of the two of them.

Valerie swiped the screen to zoom in on a certain area.

A scene of ruins appeared on the screen.

The ruins resemble the remains of a fortress from the ancient Roman era.

"This is it."

"Order: Adjust the artillery firing unit and aim at this position."

Deploy all protective magical items in a radius of one mile.

Squads one, two, and three, infiltrate the surrounding forest. If encountering the enemy, employ a tiered defensive strategy.

"Set up a communication base station and transmit the live footage to the command center."

"yes!"

(End of this chapter)