A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 101 Unexpected Events

The common room on rest days is always a bit noisy, especially after the sun is high in the sky and the young wizards get out of bed one after another, making the room even more chaotic.

Owen brought back some breakfast from the auditorium and was sitting in an armchair in front of the fireplace, resting his chin on his hand and smiling as he watched Melett slowly eat her chicken leg.

In the greenish light of the lounge, his face appeared coldly pale, which, combined with his delicate features and soft contours, gave him a quiet and reserved charm. His smooth, short black hair reflected the light, and his eyes, reflecting the firelight, were deep and dark. Coupled with the smile that always played at the corners of his mouth, he always seemed to have a faint sense of mockery.

"Good morning, I knew you'd bring breakfast." Draco sauntered out of the dorm, grabbed a sandwich and pumpkin juice from the table in front of Owen, and sat down to stuff his mouth with them.

Owen shared some more breakfast with Harry and the others, then curled up in his armchair, enjoying a rare moment of peace. With his biggest threat gone, he could finally give himself a proper vacation.

"Owen, are you sick?" Harry looked at Owen's pale face with some concern, noticing that he looked rather unwell today. "You don't look well; should we go to the school clinic?"

Draco glanced at Owen upon hearing this, his gray eyes still showing a dazed and bewildered look, "Looking at him now, it really is true, he looks like he's about to die."

"If you can talk, then say a few more words." Owen glanced at him with a smile and said slowly, "Or are you about to die too?" Although his face had turned a little pale, it was only about the same as Draco's, and he certainly didn't look like he was about to die.

"Heh, it costs money to listen to me," Draco said smugly, downing a whole glass of pumpkin juice in one gulp.

"Owen?" Harry was still a little worried.

"I'm fine, and I feel great." Owen gently stroked Melete's head, squinting his eyes contentedly as he curled up in his chair again.

"Okay." Harry took a bite of his pie, his mind racing through various Muggle first aid knowledge and healing spells.

The common room grew increasingly crowded until Blaise appeared. Harry, as if springy, leaped from his chair and pounced on him, pretending to grab him by the neck. The two of them ran from one end to the other, their playful antics attracting considerable attention.

After a while, Harry returned, panting, and slumped into a chair, staring intently at a Transfiguration textbook in front of him.

"You went to see Dumbledore last night... how did it go?" Owen asked with great interest. He was extremely curious to know if Dumbledore had actually found a cockroach in his food; that would probably be a lifelong psychological trauma, wouldn't it?

Seeing Owen's smug, gossipy expression, Harry said irritably, "Of course he didn't eat it. Mr. Dumbledore said there aren't many things in this world that can outwit him." Of course, he hadn't forgotten that Dumbledore had winked and told him that it was the most special Christmas present he had ever received.

Harry felt so ashamed that he wanted to crawl under the table, or leave Hogwarts that very night, and kill Blaise while he was at it.

"What happened?" Draco asked curiously.

"It's alright, Draco," Harry quickly shook his head. He dared not tell Draco about it, otherwise the guy would spread the word throughout the entire Hogwarts by the next day.

He changed the subject, saying, "Dumbledore said that starting next week, he will teach me some necessary magic."

Meeting the complex and envious looks in his friends' eyes, Harry coughed lightly and said, "I will teach the magic I've learned to everyone in the study group. Dumbledore has agreed."

"Wow, Dumbledore's magic! Harry, I love you!" Blaise ran over, hugged Harry, and spun him around. Caught off guard, the little wizard angrily punched the back of his head.

"I remember someone who wasn't a member of the study group." Having finally kicked Blaise out, Harry put on a Draco-esque haughty expression.

"I want to join!" Blaise exclaimed, raising his hand with sparkling eyes. He wasn't interested in academics, but he was fascinated by Dumbledore's magic. No one in the world could resist Dumbledore's magical knowledge, especially Slytherins who craved power and honor.

"What kind of magic will Dumbledore teach you?" Owen asked thoughtfully.

"Well, actually, Mr. Dumbledore let me choose for myself after I learned about different types of magic," Harry said somewhat shyly. "I prefer the general types of spells that don't involve emotional manipulation, and a lot of white magic is also very appealing, so Dumbledore plans to teach me a combination of both."

Owen gently stroked the armrest of the chair with his fingers, his eyes slowly narrowing. That Dark Lord really should learn from Dumbledore; that's what you call individualized instruction. Those guys who force people to learn dark magic and then try to trick children are just scum!

But could he still use white magic? Owen looked at his hands with suspicion, silently cultivating positive emotions in his mind. These emotions were not absent, but unsurprisingly, they clashed fiercely with the surging malice that had always been buried deep within him.

The powerful enhancement the Dark Guardian provided to dark magic now became a significant obstacle, making it difficult to utilize that sliver of positive emotion in spellcasting. After all, he hadn't completely severed his negative emotions; he had merely ensured they wouldn't spread and grow unchecked.

"Uh, hopefully I can still use some simpler ones..." Owen casually thought as he scooped up the little cat, Tanuki, who was contentedly washing her face after eating and drinking her fill. After all, upperclassmen courses do involve some white magic, albeit simpler ones.

"Actually, dark magic is kind of interesting..." Draco muttered to himself. All pure-blood families are involved in dark magic to some extent. Although he hadn't been exposed to it yet, young people are always rebellious, and he had always thought dark magic was cool.

"Dark magic is evil, Draco," Harry said seriously. "Its most terrifying aspect is that it can subtly change a wizard's character, making you slowly become someone else entirely. That's what Dumbledore warned me about."

Owen gave him a half-smile, then narrowed his eyes and remained silent. Dark magic was destined to be evil and powerful, and it was already influencing his life; it was the path he was destined to take.

"Oh—" Draco's gray eyes darted around slyly before he gave a long, drawn-out reply.

The young wizards chattered excitedly, discussing the magic Dumbledore might teach, each with a look of excitement on their faces. Only Owen, uninterested, teased Melett. He didn't think Dumbledore would impart any profound spells; those required a solid theoretical foundation. At most, some defensive, counter-attacking, and healing magic—he wasn't really looking forward to it.

"However, now that we've resolved our own hidden dangers, part of the plan can begin." Owen smiled. "It's just a pity that the preparations aren't complete yet, otherwise we could say goodbye to Voldemort directly... Hmm, it wouldn't be bad to learn more dark magic from him."

He began to look forward to the Dark Lord's teaching.

The young wizards' excitement lasted all day; it was hard to imagine how they had so much energy. Owen went to the Room of Requirement at noon, first copying some dark magic reference books in Ravenclaw's secret room, and then sneaking into his secret room to tinker with his briefcase.

He also prepared several hooded black cloaks for himself and added unique markings to their chests.

"It's time for the Ether Society to appear." Owen designed a mark for this newly created society, then printed them one by one on his cloak, and also made several badges and pendants.

The symbol of the Aetheric Society is simple: an abstract eye represents the pursuit of knowledge, and within the pupil is a cross, representing the ultimate pursuit and foundation of magic, perhaps even representing "Aether" itself. Three lines, like gazes, radiate from the eye, representing insight into the past, present, and future.

Anyway, it's not some formal organization, so we can just do whatever we want.

It wasn't until late at night that Irving left the Room of Requirement, recited the three-piece nighttime walk manual to himself, and returned to the lounge.

The common room was much emptier, with a few young wizards yawning listlessly. Harry was playing wizarding chess with Blaise, the two evenly matched, their pieces clashing and clashing on the board. Daphne and Pansy were huddled together whispering, occasionally glancing at their seats and chuckling.

"Here! Move here and you're guaranteed to win!" Draco pointed to a spot on the chessboard.

Harry nodded seriously, then directed his pieces to another position. After Draco helped eliminate several wrong answers, he quickly won the game.

"Draco, can you please shut up? Don't you know that you shouldn't speak while watching a game?" Blaise scratched his head in frustration.

"Harry didn't play where I told him to!" Draco exclaimed indignantly. "If he had listened to my advice, this game wouldn't have dragged on for so long!"

"Yeah, that's right, I'd definitely lose really fast that way," Harry thought to himself, then picked up his water glass and took a big gulp.

Owen, in a good mood, sat down to the side and glanced at Draco, who was pacing anxiously back and forth, staring at the chessboard. Suddenly, he became interested: "Draco, how about we play a game?"

Harry and Blaise looked at him together, their eyes conveying their contempt: What level are you? Do you need to bully newbies?

Owen's wizard chess skills are well-known, so no one wants to play against him; it's too discouraging.

"Alright!" Draco, who had never been afraid of anyone when it came to chess, quickly brought over a new chessboard and pieces. Daphne and Pansy curiously gathered around to see how the two would play.

Owen was preoccupied with a newly learned illusion spell, haphazardly directing his black pieces across the board, paying no attention to the overall game. Draco, on the other hand, was deep in thought, each move carefully considered.

The game lasted a long time, with fewer and fewer pieces remaining on the board. It wasn't until the White King let out a scream and was smashed into pieces by the Black Knight that Owen came to his senses and stared blankly at the chessboard.

He won... but he just played randomly.

"Oh no, so close!" Draco slapped his forehead in frustration. He stared intently at Owen, feeling like he was just a hair's breadth away from winning this game; he'd never had such a good touch.

"I can win tonight!" he confidently challenged, "One more round!"

Irving blinked blankly; he truly didn't understand.

"You guys can play for so long?" Blaise and Harry had already finished their game and were watching from the sidelines. Blaise said, puzzled. Daphne had already noticed something was up. She glanced at Owen with amusement, then patted Draco's shoulder with a hint of pity.

Harry was trying hard to suppress his laughter when he suddenly collapsed with a "thud," his body convulsing in pain, and his face quickly turning pale.

"What's wrong, Harry!" Draco cried out in a shrill voice. He collapsed beside Harry, shook him, and then froze, helpless.

The young wizards nearby were also terrified by the sudden situation and anxiously surrounded Harry, trying to get him to the school hospital as his condition worsened.

"Let me see..." Owen's eyes flickered, and he drew his wand, casting a healing spell on Harry, but it had no effect. Then he used a detection spell and sensed a barely perceptible magical fluctuation on Harry, perhaps a protective spell secretly placed by Dumbledore.

"In that case, it probably isn't a curse-type black magic." Owen thought the most likely explanation was poisoning.

He pulled a dung stone from one of his pockets, pinched Harry's cheeks, pried open his tightly closed mouth, and shoved the dung stone down his throat.

Kyrie Irving has always had the habit of carrying a lot of props with him, not just magic props, but also emergency items to deal with various unexpected situations.

Despite the effects of the dung beetle, Harry's condition did not seem to improve much. His trembling, which had subsided slightly, became violent and painful again, and an unnatural flush appeared on his pale cheeks.

"Take him to the school hospital!" Owen said sternly, waving his wand and making Harry's body float lightly into the air.

As everyone frantically pulled Harry away, Owen picked up the water glass Harry had drunk from, glanced at it, pointed at Harry, and said "fly around," causing all of Harry's belongings to fly over.

Finally, he found the culprit: an inconspicuous black spider, no bigger than a coin.

"Is Harry alright?" Daphne asked, her face pale, on the way to the school hospital.

"I'm not sure." Owen stared at the spider floating in his palm and said softly, "I've never seen this kind of spider before, and while dung stones have an antidote effect, they are mainly effective against ingested toxins, and their effectiveness against venomous bites is greatly reduced."

"What are you doing? Why aren't you sleeping in the middle of the night!" Filch emerged from a corner of the corridor like a ghost, seemingly appearing wherever a young wizard broke school rules. However, upon seeing Harry's condition, he could only stammer and let everyone pass.

A group of people were making a ruckus in the school hospital, which greatly displeased Madam Pomfrey. But after seeing Harry's condition, she quickly dragged the unconscious young wizard over, bled him, and then poured various potions into his mouth.

"This must be the spider that bit him, Ms. Pomfrey," Owen said, showing her the spider.

"A highly venomous black spider from Australia, a very dangerous magical creature... poor child." Madam Pomfrey nodded hastily, then dragged Harry into the treatment room and slammed the door shut.

The group waited outside for a long time before Pomfrev slowly came out, wiping his eyes with a sorrowful expression.

"Madam, is Harry... is he beyond saving?" Draco asked, his face pale and his voice hoarse.

"No, if it had been any later, he would have been beyond saving," Mrs. Pomfrey said softly. "Fortunately, someone gave him emergency detoxification, which bought us some precious time... Fecal stone, oh, what a clever choice, it has some effect on many toxins to some extent."

"The child is alright now, but he'll need to stay here for a few more days. It's getting late, you should all go back and rest," Mrs. Pomfrey said.

The group breathed a sigh of relief and returned to the common room together. Along the way, they discussed why such a dangerous poisonous spider would appear in the castle; the spider should be far away in Australia, not have traveled all the way to England.

"I guarantee that spider was released along with those monsters on Halloween night. It just wasn't found then, and somehow ended up on Harry today," Draco declared loudly, gaining the approval of many.

"It's also possible that someone brought it into the school on purpose, isn't it?" Daphne whispered.

Her question went unanswered, but the young wizards' expressions grew somber. No one could rule out murder; after all, the victim was Harry Potter, the boy who had miraculously survived. Perhaps there were those who secretly admired the Dark Lord and harbored resentment towards him.

"I'll write to my father, and he'll easily find out the truth," Draco said, patting his chest.

Even after returning to the lounge, the group was still speculating wildly, imagining things to be increasingly dark and terrifying, and it wasn't until the middle of the night that they remembered to go back to sleep.

The next day, Owen and the others visited Harry at the university hospital. He had regained consciousness, and although he was still pale, he was in good spirits. Many people, having learned that the famous Harry Potter had nearly been poisoned the previous night, gathered to see him, forcing Madam Pomfrey to separate his room.

Harry had already learned what had happened last night from others. He looked gratefully at his friends and sincerely thanked Owen, saying, "Thank you for saving me, Owen. If it weren't for your dung beetle, I might be dead."

"It was just something I could do." Owen shook his head, then tossed the black spider, now a specimen, onto the corner of Harry's bed. "This is the spider that bit you. Want to keep it as a souvenir?"

Harry suddenly shrank back, staring intently at the spider, his lips twitching as he said, "I don't think it's necessary..." He felt he was starting to develop a psychological aversion to spiders.

Irving laughed, then asked, "How did you get it on yourself yesterday?"

Harry's expression turned serious. He thought for a moment, then shook his head blankly. "I didn't encounter anything strange yesterday, nor did I meet anyone suspicious. Maybe I was just unlucky... Or maybe, the mastermind behind it all did something to me!"

He recalled how he had been tricked during the Sorting Ceremony and ended up in Slytherin. Since he hadn't encountered any suspicious activity, he had somewhat neglected to investigate or guard against the matter. Now, the more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that guy was after him.

After listening to Harry's analysis, Owen nodded with an unreadable expression: "It's good that you're on guard. I'm leaving now."

Harry waved to the crowd, secretly determined to find out the truth about the matter as soon as possible.

(End of this chapter)