I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 92 I solemnly swear that I did absolutely not do this.

"I think the moonlight is bright tonight, you should go and rest." The old headmaster waved his robe, and the next second, he Apparated and appeared in the Hufflepuff common room with Owen.

"Oh, and you also need to hand in that notebook. Also, write a 2,000-word personality analysis report about Vincent. Bring it to my office on Monday."

"Exploitation! You're exploiting a little wizard!" Owen roared angrily. "That's the fruit of my labor!"

"Yes, you're right!" Professor Dumbledore nodded, seemingly acknowledging Owen's contribution, and then said, "Hufflepuff, add twenty points."

Having said that, he vanished in a phantom form.

"knock!!!"

Does being the principal mean you can just teleport around the academy at will?

If you don't even follow the rules you set for yourself, how can you educate others and gain their respect?

Waaah—You broke your promise! You said you'd catch someone's pet, but now look what happened! You didn't get anything, and you even got a terrible job!

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.

That night!

The air at Hogwarts seemed to be filled with Owen's resentful resentment.

Justin woke up early in the morning.

Her eyes were still half-closed.

A chill ran straight up to his head.

In an instant, all his drowsiness was extinguished by a slap.

My spirits lifted immediately.

Because he saw that Irving was sitting at the table and chair by the window, writing and drawing something.

It's mainly his smile.

Mysterious and evil.

Every time he makes that face, nothing good ever happens.

"Owen~" Justin said, pulling the blanket tighter around himself and shivering.

"Oh~ you're awake." Owen slowly got up, his facial muscles seemed a little stiff, and he tried to suppress his smile, but he couldn't hide the marks on his cheeks.

"Take a good rest these next few days," he suddenly said, seemingly out of nowhere.

"What—what are you going to do?"

"Heh." Owen gave a stiff smile, but didn't say anything more, and left the dormitory directly.

October has arrived.

The weather is gradually getting cooler.

The cold winds of the Atlantic began to batter this isolated island.

The temperature dropped sharply.

Torches have been lit in the auditorium.

However, that meager amount of heat was far from enough to cover the entire hall.

The young wizards huddled together, with only the steaming pumpkin juice in front of them providing some warmth.

"How are you planning to spend Halloween?"

At the Hufflepuff table, Harry suddenly ran over. "Nick has invited us to his 500th birthday celebration."

"Are you interested in participating?"

"You agreed?" Irving looked up, a chicken leg dangling from his mouth.

"Yes! I think it would be really interesting," Harry replied with some anticipation.

Although attending a death anniversary sounds strange, it's five hundred years! Five hundred years!

五百年桑田沧海

Even the stubborn rocks are covered in moss! Covered in moss!

Ahem—it's possible for a wizard to live for over five hundred years.

It'll be really fun!

"Hehe, then have fun!"

"Aren't you going?" Harry was taken aback. He had thought that Owen would be very interested in something as "interesting" as this.

"I've been very busy lately," he said.

Then he patted the strange red stain on his trouser leg.

"What have you been up to lately?" Hannah chimed in, reaching out to brush a feather from an unidentified bird off Owen's shoulder.

Then he looked him over seriously.

Hmm, there hasn't been much news coming from Ravenclaw lately.

"Working as Dumbledore's laborer!" Owen said, taking a vicious bite of the chicken leg on his plate, overcome with grief.

"Dumbledore?" Ron walked over at that moment.

"It's been a long time since I've seen the principal. What have you all been up to?" He glanced at Owen's dusty body and asked, puzzled.

"Busy? Heh."

"I--"

Just as Irving was about to speak, the auditorium doors were suddenly pushed open roughly.

A cold wind blew straight in.

Just as the young wizard approached the gate and opened his mouth to greet his parents, the unsteady wizard, as if greatly frightened, stumbled and fell.

Then he struggled to get up again.

"The corridor, the second-floor corridor, someone has been murdered!"

After saying that, his pupils rolled back, and he collapsed.

The entire set of movements was fluid and graceful, reminiscent of Professor Quirrell's style back in the day.

Silence—the sudden news brought the entire auditorium to a standstill.

A moment later, a cacophony of sounds erupted: screams, cries, and the clatter of plates falling to the floor.

The scene instantly descended into chaos.

Professor McGonagall immediately stood up from her seat and rushed out with a serious expression.

The remaining professors also changed their expressions and followed Professor McGonagall out of the auditorium.

Meanwhile, on the young wizard's side, Harry Potter immediately put down the pumpkin pie in his hand and strode after him.

Immediately, many young wizards, unaware of the truth, crowded together and rushed to the second floor.

The incident occurred very close to the auditorium.

Right next to the spiral staircase, at the second-floor entrance, in the corridor in front of the Transformation Classroom.

A second-year wizard, his face ashen, his body stiff and lifeless, floated in mid-air, his limbs hanging down naturally, his neck raised high as if he were being suspended by something.

On the wall just a foot away from him, a streak of red writing that looked like blood stood out starkly.

"The secret room has been opened!"

"Beware of those who oppose the heir!"

"Oh my god!" Professor McGonagall, the first to arrive, exclaimed. She then quickly waved her wand and rescued the poor child.

"Merlin's beard!"

"Is someone really dead?"

"Are you blind? Didn't you see how he was?"

The crowd surged forward, chattering and making a racket.

"The Chamber of Secrets? The Heirs? What are those?" Perhaps because they had already seen so much life and death in their first year, Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly recovered from their shock.

"Do you know Kyrie Irving?"

As Hogwarts' famous living encyclopedia, Owen was naturally Harry's first choice for reference.

"The Chamber of Secrets in Gryffindor, Granger is the heir, Slytherin is her enemy, it's that simple!"

"Enough, Owen, stop joking around at a time like this!" Hermione glared at him fiercely, like a little lion.

"Tch." Owen tugged at his slightly disheveled hair, a trace of red paint gliding from his fingertips. He flicked it with a hint of disdain. "Alright! Actually, it's Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets. Tom is the heir, and Gryffindor is his enemy."

"Enough! Are you still not done?!" The little witch was truly angry this time. He could be so frivolous in front of someone's corpse, even though someone was already dead. This disappointed her greatly.

"??? What's wrong with this world? Nobody believes me when I tell the truth!"

Why is there no association to protect the rights of underage wizards in the wizarding world?

Owen angrily rebuked a certain Ministry of Magic official.

(End of this chapter)