A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 103 Your Hands Are Poisonous!

Harry's pupils contracted sharply when he heard the man say he was going to kill him.

He glanced quickly at Draco, who was clinging tightly to his clothes, a tear seemingly still glistening in the corner of his eye. Then he looked at Owen, who was struggling to get up in the shadows, and began to feel impatient.

He frantically racked his brains for a way to escape, glancing out of the corner of his eye at his wand lying on the ground some distance away, while desperately trying to buy time: "The Aetheric Society? Why are you trying to kill me? Are you Voldemort's worshippers?"

"Voldemort? He's not worthy of our worship. The Aetherial Society only pursues the ultimate in magic, and you, who could defeat the Dark Lord at birth... should be excellent research material." The man in the black cloak had already stood before Harry, casting a huge shadow over both young wizards. "Hmph, don't waste your time. You will become one of my finest collectibles, along with the Philosopher's Stone that we've finally acquired after six months of infiltration at Hogwarts..."

As he spoke, he extended a large, pale hand from under his cloak, reaching for Harry's forehead. Harry rolled away to the side, shoving Draco even further away, and then leaped towards his wand, only to watch helplessly as it was struck by a spell and rolled into a corner even further away from him.

The man in the black cloak seemed to be playing with him like a cat toying with a mouse. He stepped forward and continued to reach out and grab at his hair.

Draco, who had been stunned by the sudden change in his demeanor, finally came to his senses a little. He stealthily reached into his pocket, trying to retrieve his alchemical artifacts for self-defense, but heard the man in the black cloak sneer mockingly, "Don't move, or I won't mind killing another one..."

Draco shuddered again, his movements frozen. This guy didn't seem to want to kill him, but was he supposed to just watch Harry be killed? But Harry and Owen were both powerless to resist; what good would his resistance do? Wait, he had a defensive alchemical item that passively triggered the Ironclad Charm; it should be able to withstand a few more spells than the other two!

"At times like these, you really have to rely on me!" Thinking this, he nodded obediently, then shrank into a corner, his gray eyes darting around as his hand, hidden by his body, continued to reach into his pocket.

Owen watched Draco's little tricks with a speechless expression. This guy was quite clever, but why was he so stubborn? He didn't want to use a spell to attack Draco because ordinary spells would only be blocked by the Ironclad Charm, easily revealing his true level. But wasn't he using "Owen" to remind the two of his own strength? Didn't Draco consider that "Owen," who was knocked down in one blow, might not have any alchemical items with defensive spells on him?

Seeing Draco's stubborn actions, if Owen were really a dark wizard who had infiltrated the school, he would definitely give him a taste of the harsh realities of life.

"Could spending too much time with a wild lion like Harry lead to being assimilated?" Owen wondered, quickening his pace. "But he's not so bad-hearted..."

Before Draco could do anything else, Owen had already grabbed Harry's head, thinking to himself with amusement, "Harry, it's time to discover the power hidden within you."

Harry felt a large, cold hand grip his hair tightly. He struggled desperately, reaching for the other man's hand with both hands. Unexpectedly, Harry suddenly heard a painful scream from above and felt the man release his hair abruptly. He tried desperately to pull his hand back.

Harry looked up and saw that the black-cloaked man's pale palm was covered in dense blisters, a truly gruesome sight. Still bewildered, he heard the man's angry voice: "Your hand... is poisoned!"

The angry male voice reminded Harry, and feeling the hand about to pull back, Harry gripped it even tighter, hearing the man's scream grow even more piercing. Then, Harry felt his hand suddenly give way, and the man in the black cloak staggered away from him.

Harry panicked, knowing this was his only chance, and rushed towards the man. The man seemed terrified, hiding his blistered hand under his cloak, casting a spell that sent Harry flying, and then fleeing rapidly down the corridor.

Harry rolled around on the floor before finally getting up, panting. He breathed a deep sigh of relief as he watched the black-cloaked man's figure recede into the distance. Then he saw Owen struggle to his feet in the shadows, grab his fallen wand, and relentlessly chase after the fleeing black-cloaked man.

"Owen!" Harry exclaimed in shock. How could Owen be even more reckless than him?

Watching Owen chase after the man in the black cloak until he disappeared around a corner, Harry quickly grabbed his wand and ran after them, shouting to Draco, "Draco, don't follow us! Go find the professor for help!"

Owen maneuvered his phantom behind him, quickly removing the glove from his hand as they ran, then putting on another, slightly smaller glove. These were merely specially treated glove-like devices that would produce terrifying-looking bubbles when squeezed.

Owen has three objectives tonight: first, to tell Harry that a mysterious organization has infiltrated Hogwarts; second, to remind him of the Philosopher's Stone; and third, to make Harry believe that he possesses a peculiar ability to harm certain specific people.

The third point is Owen's contingency plan for the future, purely aimed at Voldemort and Quirrell, because only they are incapable of touching Harry. Using Harry as a backup plan involves many variables, because Harry's current fighting strength is weak; even if he doesn't die, he might not be able to defeat Quirrell and Voldemort, given that the original storyline requires too many coincidences.

Therefore, Owen wanted Harry to understand his reliance. Voldemort would definitely have a lot to say to Harry, and Harry just needed to find the right opportunity to pounce on him without thinking or hesitation, like a facehugger!

"Hmm, I need to strengthen the instinct to pounce on the face a bit more." Owen smiled playfully and waved his wand, releasing the illusion again. Then he raised his hand and pressed on the support on his shoulder. The wooden support suddenly contracted, reducing its length by ten centimeters, and the top became more rounded, making his shoulder look much rounder and thinner.

In the blink of an eye, he looked like a thin man or woman who was about 1.7 meters tall.

Harry had already run past the corner, anxiously calling out Owen's name. In the distance, he saw Owen's figure following the hem of a black cloak as he rounded the next bend. Just as Harry was about to take off after him, a clear female voice suddenly rang out, startling him and making him turn to the side.

A figure dressed in a similar black cloak emerged from a dark doorway, a languid female voice laced with disdain: "Triff's really gone astray, getting chased by a little brat..."

"Are you Lilith?" Harry remembered that the man was waiting for a woman named Lilith. He looked at the same silver eye pattern on the woman's cloak, and his heart began to pound.

"Little boy, come back with me, okay?" A pale hand reached out to grab Harry. Harry's wand slipped from his hand again. In a flash, he remembered the man in the black cloak saying that his hands were poisoned, so he gritted his teeth and reached out to grab the woman's hand.

"Hmm?" The woman made a puzzled nasal sound, seemingly not understanding why he was being so proactive. Then, just like the man, she screamed in pain, and horrible blisters appeared on her hands.

Harry's eyes lit up. Grabbing the woman's hand, he quickly lunged into her arms, his other hand reaching to press down on her head, which was hidden under her hood. He knew this was his only chance to escape!

The woman narrowly avoided Harry's claws, using the opportunity to create distance. With a flick of her cloak, thick fog instantly engulfed her, leaving only a resentful female voice echoing from within: "Harry Potter, I'll remember you! I'll be back!"

Her voice faded into the distance, and by the time Harry emerged from the thick fog, she was completely out of sight.

It took him a long time to find his wand, and he grew increasingly worried about Owen's situation. Just as he was about to continue the chase, he saw Owen return, panting heavily, clutching his wand tightly, his pale face bearing a strange expression.

Recalling the cheesy declaration he'd blurted out during his unrestrained performance, Irving felt an urge to cover his face. Was he really like that at heart? Or had he just been holding back all these years?

"Owen, I'm so glad you're alright!" Harry finally relaxed, panting heavily with his hands on his knees. "Why did you chase after them? That was so reckless! If they had hurt you, I..."

Irving pressed his pale lips tightly together, actually trying hard to suppress a laugh. It was strange to be called reckless by a brute. He said softly, "I'm sorry, I acted impulsively. I thought that man seemed seriously injured, so I tried to keep him, but I lost him in the end..."

"Do you... have any special abilities?" He then looked at Harry's hand.

Harry stared blankly at his palm, shaking his head. "I don't know, I've never had this ability before... That man said my hands were poisonous, and later I also injured a woman." His expression grew increasingly panicked and uneasy. Had he awakened some terrifying ability that allowed him to harm others through touch? Would he never be able to touch anyone again?

Thinking about it this way, Harry felt his future was bleak. Would he never have a girlfriend?

At that moment, a pale hand landed on his. To Harry's horror, no terrible blisters appeared on Owen's hand, nor did he let out a painful cry.

"See, I'm fine." Owen showed Harry his pale hands and said with a smile, "I think those people were hurt either because they had ill intentions towards you, or because they have something special that happens to counteract some power within you."

"That's good." Harry breathed a sigh of relief, then scratched his head. "But I don't feel like I have any power. I've met people who were hostile to me before, but they weren't like this."

He suddenly realized something, and his expression turned serious: "You mean... it's because I was bitten by a poisonous spider a few days ago, and some strange change happened to my body?"

"...Do you think you're Spider-Man?" Owen blinked, smiling without saying a word.

As the two were talking, hurried footsteps echoed again from the depths of the corridor.

"Professor... he's up ahead..." Draco's voice came from afar, causing the two of them to look over and meet a pair of empty, indifferent, and even slightly annoyed black eyes.

"Professor Snape..." Harry groaned inwardly, hanging his head dejectedly.

"I can't think of any reason why you'd be here at this hour, Potter and Shafik. You just escaped death and you dare to go out for a night stroll? Draco told me you were attacked and almost died, I'm not surprised at all." Snape looked down at them with a cold sneer on his face, clearly very angry.

He just wanted to pry open Harry Potter's skull to see if it was full of mush! Looking at the other's messy hair and infuriating face, he felt even more furious. Usually, he was quite diligent and humble, had decent talent, and would even stand up for bullied classmates… how come he was acting so much like his obnoxious father now?

"Lift your head up!" Snape said to the little wizard who was practically curled up in a ball.

Looking into those sincere green eyes filled with shame and remorse, his anger subsided somewhat, and he said in a smooth tone, "One month of confinement, starting tomorrow, all three of you."

Draco took a breath, letting out a barely audible groan.

"Tell me in detail what happened to you just now," Snape continued, his piercing gaze sweeping across each of their faces. Harry looked dejected, Draco utterly hopeless, and Owen's eyes were downcast.

Next, Harry and Draco recounted what they had seen in detail, while Owen occasionally added a comment with a smile. He could feel Snape's gaze falling on him from time to time, but he only returned the comment with a smile.

When Snape mentioned that the Aether Society had infiltrated Hogwarts to obtain Harry and the Philosopher's Stone beneath the trapdoor, his expression was inscrutable. Harry had been secretly observing Snape's expression but couldn't discern anything. He glanced at Snape's hands, thankfully finding no injuries.

Upon hearing Harry's method of driving the two away, Snape frowned, then recited a few spells to check it out, his expression growing even more suspicious. He wasn't sure if this was Dumbledore's protective measure and planned to ask him later.

After learning the whole story, Snape said thoughtfully, "What happened tonight is only for you to know. I don't want to hear a single word about it from anyone else." He gave Draco a stern warning look, then said, "Now, go back to your common room."

The three young wizards breathed a sigh of relief and hurried towards the common room. Professor Snape followed closely behind them, his invisible aura forcing them to quicken their pace.

Finally reaching the stone wall of the common room, Harry and Draco slipped inside as if granted a reprieve. Owen lagged behind, only to hear Professor Snape's voice drift in: "You don't look well. Are you ill?"

"Ah, I wasn't feeling well a few days ago, but I'm fine now." Owen first put on a thoughtful expression, then said with a bright smile.

"Thank you for your concern, Professor Snape. Good night." He waved and walked through the stone door.

Snape squinted at Owen's retreating figure. As a master of dark magic himself, having immersed himself in it for many years, he was particularly perceptive in this regard. He had a feeling that the young wizard possessed a faint, almost imperceptible, aura of darkness, yet it seemed to be merely an illusion.

Considering Owen's previous contact with Quirrell, he felt he needed to pay closer attention to this young wizard.

After Harry and Draco returned to the common room, they pulled Owen aside and whispered until late into the night, speculating on various possibilities. Owen listened patiently to their speculations, some amusing and some absurd, while gently stroking Melett's smooth, soft fur.

"The Philosopher's Stone... I think I've heard of it before." Draco crossed his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I'm sure I've seen it somewhere!"

"The Philosopher's Stone is the pinnacle of alchemy, possessing the power to turn lead into gold and to create potions that grant immortality. The only existing Philosopher's Stone belongs to the legendary alchemist Nicolas Flamel, who is also the only person in the world capable of creating it. It is said that Mr. Flamel is over 660 years old," Owen said calmly.

"Nico Flamel is also a friend of Dumbledore." He smiled at the two of them. "It's on the Chocolate Frog card."

"The Philosopher's Stone, the magic touch, the elixir of immortality..." Harry scratched his head. "So, Mr. Nicolas Flamel entrusted the Philosopher's Stone to Mr. Dumbledore for safekeeping, and then somehow the news leaked out, attracting the attention of some people. To protect the Philosopher's Stone, Dumbledore placed it under a trapdoor in the restricted corridor on the fourth floor and had Hagrid's dog guard it..."

So, Professor Snape might also be eyeing the Philosopher's Stone, and the Aether Society might not be the only one coveting it... Thinking of this, he became somewhat frustrated.

"The elixir of immortality, that's immortality!" Draco raised his eyebrows longingly. "Who could refuse a Philosopher's Stone?" He began to wonder if he could obtain it, but then realized that it seemed impossible, and became disappointed.

"What do you want to do next?" Owen asked Harry curiously.

Harry pondered for a moment, then extended his hand to Draco. Draco looked at him questioningly and shook his hand.

"Now that we know the Aether Society has somehow infiltrated Hogwarts, I can try to figure it out," Harry said excitedly. "They won't dare touch me, and that's our advantage!"

"Ah, keep it up." Owen smiled slightly, finding things getting interesting.

Harry set a small goal: to shake hands with everyone in Hogwarts!

After that night, everyone at Hogwarts noticed that the famous Harry Potter had become quite enthusiastic. He liked to shake hands with everyone, even the professor and Filch's cat, leading people to speculate whether he had revealed some quirk.

However, most people were still willing to shake hands with Harry as a sign of friendship. It is said that several young witches and wizards who admired him did not wash their hands for several days after shaking hands, which made Harry feel disgusted when he heard about it.

While enjoying the show, Irving received an invitation from either Quirrell or the Dark Lord, something he hadn't done in a long time.

(End of this chapter)