I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 73 Laptop Scam

Silence—a deathly silence.

A long silence fell over the living room.

Lucius was calculating the stakes; the Malfoy family certainly needed a powerful backer.

But this powerful backer cannot be the fuse that destroys the family.

They had already buried one, and they didn't want to bury another.

"I didn't have a choice before." After a long, long time, a sigh finally came from the living room.

"Now I want to be a good person."

"A good person?"

"Then go talk to Dumbledore and see if he's willing to accept you." Suddenly, Owen changed the subject, mentioning the person even Mystic feared.

Oh!

It seems my dear Mr. Lucius still hasn't figured out what he wants.

"You want me dead." Lucius's expression changed drastically. His heart had already begun to waver, but the traditions of the Malfoy family still prevented him from truly placing the family's weight entirely on anyone else.

Even Dumbledore couldn't.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lucius, but you are still one of the Dark Lord's men."

"Perhaps you should show some sincerity," Owen smiled mysteriously. "I heard that Lu Dan left a notebook here with you."

"Oh~ I'm not forcing you, but of course, if you don't want to—"

"I will go and tell Dumbledore about it."

"Or it could be my grandfather Grindelwald; I'm sure they'd have a good talk with you."

"You, where did you find out?" Lucius was taken aback, then his eyes narrowed sharply and his face turned ugly.

That was their family's biggest secret.

If the Ministry of Magic found out that he was also collecting things from the Mystic, it would be a problem.

His fate will definitely be to receive a lifetime membership to Azkaban.

"That's none of your business." He waved his hand and continued, "Just tell me whether you're giving it to me or not!"

"I," the man who had the ability to manipulate people's hearts, suddenly choked, his two gray eyes swirling around, and after a long while, a wicked plan surged into his mind.

He really should hand over the notebook.

Whether it's the recent tense developments at the Ministry of Magic, or dealing with this kid in front of us.

During the years following Voldemort's downfall, he tried countless times to destroy the book. But the dark magic covering it was too powerful, and he was powerless to stop it.

Lucius didn't know what it was, but that didn't stop him from defining it as extremely dangerous.

Therefore, making a move at this time would be a good strategy.

Especially being able to connect with Grindelwald.

I must say, he was very interested in the world of free wizards that Owen described.

In such a world, with the Malfoy family's influence, they could definitely become a behemoth controlling a certain Muggle country!

"It's just a magical item; the Malfoys have plenty of those." Lucius didn't admit it belonged to Voldemort, only that it was a magical artifact.

"Great! No wonder you're rich."

"Then you can accept bringing along a servant too, right?" After saying that, Owen pointed to Dobby, who was hiding in the corner and spying.

".Can!"

"Oh, you're really generous! I like making friends with generous people. If you could raise another hundred thousand gallons, I'd definitely put in a good word for you with Grandpa—"

The little black devil touched his upper and lower lips together.

He dared to ask for a million Galleons without even asking.

However, seeing that Lucius's face had turned icy cold, he promptly shut up.

Hey!

This is how you can get so much for free.

"Ha." Owen strode over, extending his right hand. "Welcome, Mr. Lucius Malfoy. From today onwards, you are a member of the Saints."

"Oh~ of course he's a member of GGAD!"

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.

After having dinner at the Malfoys' house.

Dobby, now Owen's property, took him and Harry back to Number 4 Privet Drive, the Dursleys' house.

As for his promise to let the Malfoy family join the Saints...

knock!

There is no such thing as a saint organization.

That was all made up by Luna's father, Xenophilius Lovegood, in his magazine, The Quibbler.

As a fervent fan of Grindelwald, Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood created this organization to rival Voldemort's Death Eaters.

Because of the influence of "The Quibbler" on the wizarding community, many people believe that Grindelwald really established such an organization.

In reality, the followers around his grandfather back then were all revolutionaries for the future of wizards, so why would they give themselves such a religiously associated name?

They're not mindless cult members like the Death Eaters.

But what Irving didn't know was...

He had just left Malfoy Estate.

Following closely behind, an elderly woman, who looked to be about the same age as Professor McGonagall, walked into the manor alone.

She wore a hat with black lace trim and a dark green fitted coat.

She was wearing a pair of black high heels.

She exudes the elegance of France.

Although time has left indelible marks on her face, her red lips remain vibrant.

"Hello, Mr. Lucius Malfoy."

She tilted her head back and crossed her arms over her waist.

Like a blooming black rose, she said, "I am Vinda Rozier."

"Greetings, Mr. Grindelwald!"

------

Upon returning home, the first thing Owen did was write five letters to Hannah.

Okay—today's task completed (√)

After handing the sleeping Sirocco, whose mane was slightly gleaming, to Dobby, Owen rushed into the bedroom in a hurry.

Hmm—he wants to have a romantic online romance with senior Riddle over the summer.

Push open the oak door to the study.

Irving plopped down in the chair.

He opened the notebook in his hand.

The black leather was slightly deformed, and the pages were yellowing when opened.

It is clear that this notebook is not a magical creation.

It's possible that Tom bought it randomly from some Muggle newspaper.

Pick up the quill pen on the table.

Dipping his brush in ink, Irving wrote his first sentence.

—November 2, 1950.

Today marks the fifth anniversary of the death of Albus Dumbledore, the hero of the wizarding world.

—Ever since the wizards' hopes were dashed in that duel with Grindelwald five years ago, the world has been in the hands of Grindelwald and his cronies.

—Our fellow beings in the magical world live in dire straits, longing for the arrival of a new savior.

—But five whole years have passed.

—So all the heroes who dared to challenge Grindelwald's authority were defeated and died tragically under his wand.

—The survivors formed an organization called the Order of the Phoenix (in honor of the great Mr. Dumbledore) in an attempt to overthrow the Dark Lord's rule!

—My parents also died tragically at Grindelwald's hands.

—I really want to join the Order of the Phoenix right now and become a sharp knife to plunge into that executioner's chest!

Irving's quill pen made a rustling sound as it landed on the notebook.

At that moment, his inspiration exploded!

His mind is full of shady schemes.

Today, he will use these revolutionary words to depict a different future for his sixteen-year-old senior, Tom Riddle!

(P.S.: As the first Horcrux, Riddle was only sixteen years old at the time, and it was made in 1941. Therefore, this Horcrux was unaware of the subsequent history. -- Um -- let's just pretend he didn't know! Okay!)

(End of this chapter)