A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 126 School Opening

The simply furnished study was bathed in a dim, yellow light, and the ink bottle and book covers on the desk reflected a glittering light. Outside the window was a dark, narrow alley, where the pattering rain washed over the black pavement, and the only sound in the quiet was the rushing rain.

Owen sat in the armchair behind his desk, rubbing his temples with his fingers, looking at Natasha standing opposite him with a slight headache. Natasha twirled a strand of long red hair that fell in front of her chest with her right hand, looking at him with a smug and excited expression, much like a child who had gotten a perfect score on a test and was hoping for praise from their parents.

Beside her stood a man dressed in gray clothes. His tattered robe was relatively clean, with many patches and seams. The man looked relatively young, but his light brown hair was already turning gray, and his face looked sickly, as if he might collapse at any moment.

Meanwhile, the man was also discreetly observing Owen. After a brief moment of surprise upon discovering that the bookstore owner was a child, he maintained a composed and unassuming expression. His gentle and humble demeanor resembled that of a refined scholar, though his attire was extremely shabby.

Owen covered his eyes with his hand. Wasn't the purpose of opening this bookstore to serve as a secret base that he could freely control? Was bringing this person in because he thought Dumbledore didn't have enough ways to know him, or because he thought there wasn't enough going on about him?

"Mr. Remus Lupin, is that right?" He exhaled softly, crossed his arms, and smiled politely but distantly. "As a distinguished graduate of Hogwarts, with such talent, why would you stoop to be a clerk in my little bookstore?"

Sensing the rejection in Irving's words, Lupin, who had experienced countless similar situations, said with a melancholy yet calm expression, "Because of my identity, no one wants to work with a werewolf."

"Excuse my bluntness, Mr. Lupin, you knew you would be rejected if you revealed your identity, so why didn't you hide it?" Owen raised his eyebrows.

Lupin gave a wry smile, his voice hoarse. "I've tried," he said, "but such deception can't last, and it's dangerous for others. So, I've never stayed in one place for long, always taking odd jobs that don't last more than a month." He glanced at Natasha. "I never expected Miss Valente to hire me after she knew my true identity..."

"Call me Natasha, Lupin." Natasha scratched her hair in frustration. She hated the surname she inherited from her father.

"Yes, Miss Natasha," Lupin said apologetically, then regained his usual calm, waiting to be rejected and driven away as before. In fact, after seeing that the bookstore owner was a novice wizard, he knew he shouldn't be there.

Owen tapped the table lightly with his index finger, weighing the pros and cons, when he heard Natasha say gently to Lupin, "Lupin, could you go watch the shop first? I need to talk to the boss for a bit."

Lu Ping readily agreed and went out, gently closing the door behind him, and went down the wooden staircase to the first floor.

As the footsteps faded into the distance, Natasha's kind expression instantly turned cunning, making her look like a sly little fox. She raised her eyebrows smugly at Owen, as if to say: "Wasn't I clever?"

"What are you thinking, Natasha?" Owen asked, a thoughtful expression on his face, looking at Natasha as if she were a red-haired husky.

"Lupin was handpicked by me from among many applicants, after all, the salary you offered was very generous." Natasha's deep red eyes gleamed with shrewdness. "He's very strong, I can't beat him, and I even think he wasn't using his full strength. Plus, he's good at arithmetic, which is a rare skill around Knockturn Alley."

"Cheap, capable, and hardworking—one person can do the work of three," she said, counting on her fingers. "You won't find another shop assistant like that once you've missed out."

Her expression immediately turned serious: "Most importantly, he's relatively honest and hasn't had any wicked intentions. He's barely trustworthy, unlike those wicked and violent werewolves hiding in the gutter. If he had concealed his identity from me, I would have definitely kicked him out. I could smell the werewolf scent on him from a long way off."

"Aren't you afraid he'll bite you if he loses control?" Owen said with a smile.

"I've seen plenty of werewolves. They're not as terrifying as the legends make them out to be. They only turn into mindless beasts on the night of a full moon." Natasha's face regained a hint of smugness. "Because he's a werewolf, he can accept lower wages than ordinary people and is willing to sign more demanding contracts..."

As she spoke, she pulled a thick paper contract from her desk and pushed it in front of Owen: "So, we can sign him for only 35 Galleons, saving 15 Galleons... and we don't have to provide meals! Actually, I think we can lower the price even further, since there aren't many jobs at the bookstore."

"The contract stipulates that he must stay far away from the bookstore on the night of the full moon every month. If the bookstore suffers any losses due to his own circumstances or negligence, he will be required to compensate for the losses, which will be deducted directly from his salary..."

Natasha explained the strict contract to Owen with a smile, looking every bit the shrewd and capable housekeeper. Having lived a life of poverty, she was obsessed with saving money and would split every copper nut in half to make ends meet. She had an innate talent for exploiting her employees.

Owen listened casually, his mind wandering. He didn't believe Lupin was there on Dumbledore's orders; there was no need for that. In other words, Lupin's actions were entirely voluntary. To accept such a salary and contract, it seemed he had indeed suffered a lot these past few years.

He paused for a moment, realizing that 35 gallons seemed to be the average wage for bookstore clerks in Diagon Alley. The bookstore in Knockturn Alley didn't have many customers, and the work was easy. Although there was some danger, for Lupin, who had been constantly on the move, doing odd jobs to make ends meet, it was practically a windfall…

Am I really being taken advantage of? Irving wondered, his gaze drifting.

"Owen, what do you think?" Natasha finally stopped talking after her throat became dry. She licked her slightly thick lips with the tip of her tongue, waiting for Owen to make a decision. If he didn't agree to keep Lupin, she would have no choice but to firmly ask him to leave, at most feeling a little regretful, since such a cheap and useful employee was hard to find.

"That's settled then," Owen said. Since he'd already hired him, he had no intention of firing him; he'd just have to be more careful when using dark magic in the shop in the future. Wasn't it great to hire a professor-level employee for a pittance? Most importantly, he was morally upright and wouldn't have any bad intentions.

"Add a clause to the contract: keep the shop's secrets, especially those concerning me. Natasha, don't tell him too much about me either," Owen cautioned. "Also, he's not a dark wizard."

Natasha nodded as if she understood, and said, "I understand."

Owen looked at her, puzzled, not understanding what she knew. He didn't want to ask any more questions, but simply leaned back lazily in his chair, squinting and smiling, "Why don't you ask him for more advice on magic? He's practically a free personal trainer."

Natasha nodded earnestly and exclaimed sincerely, "Lupin is really useful."

She picked up the quill pen from the table, added a clause to the contract in her distinctively ugly handwriting, then took it downstairs, her gentle smile returning to her face. Such a helpful salesperson—she had to appease the customer.

"The boss thinks highly of you, Lupin. Here's the contract. If you have no objections, just sign it." Natasha waved the paper in her hand.

Lupin paused for a moment, took the contract, and struggled to decipher the scrawled handwriting. Then he looked up at the young wizard who was slowly descending the stairs and said in a hoarse voice, "Thank you."

Natasha turned to Owen and asked, "Are you going back?"

"Well, school's about to start, I need to go back and pack my things." Owen glanced at Lupin and smiled slightly. "Speaking of which, the school has two new professors with quite a bit of background this year."

"I know, that famous author, I think his name is Logit, is he your new professor of dark magic?" Natasha said after thinking for a moment.

"No, he's the security advisor. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor isn't him, but a hero who came back from the dead..." Owen's smile slowly widened. "I remember his name is... Peter Pettigrew."

Lupin abruptly raised his head, his pupils trembling violently. He gripped the contract tightly in his hand, crumpling the thick parchment.

"Lupin, what's wrong?" Natasha looked at him suspiciously.

"It's nothing." Lu Ping handed her the signed contract, but his brows furrowed tightly, and his pale and haggard face looked even worse.

"Peter Pettigrew...resurrected?" Natasha asked Lupin the question that had been on her mind.

Owen briefly recounted what happened eleven years ago before saying, "In short, he returned, sought refuge at the Ministry of Magic, and told everyone that he had simply lost his memory all these years..."

"Ha, the Ministry of Magic's capabilities never disappoint," Natasha remarked sarcastically, then stopped caring about such matters.

Lupin's brows furrowed even more, his eyes glazed over as he stared blankly into the narrow alleyway beyond the shop window, where the sky was obscured, as if he could see a distant place through the dark walls.

"I'm leaving now, bye-bye." Owen recited a water-repelling spell to himself, then opened the black umbrella in his hand.

"Do you need me to take you out of this alley?" Lupin asked gently, snapping out of his daze.

"I can get back by myself." Owen turned his head and smiled slightly, then cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, disappearing into thin air along with his umbrella before stepping into the gray rain.

……

Just as dawn was breaking, Irving was woken up by his alarm clock. He sat on the bed, drowsy for a while, before finally getting up as if sleepwalking to wash and get dressed.

As soon as he came down the stairs, he saw Mr. Albert stuffing a large bag of coins into his suitcase, which probably weighed over a thousand gallons.

"Your allowance," Albert winked at him, "don't worry about saving it for me, especially since you're at the age where you should be dating."

"I'm only twelve, Dad," Owen said calmly. Him, a twelve-year-old girl? He wasn't an animal. As for dating an older girl… was she an animal? To actually lay a hand on a twelve-year-old boy like him!

"It's getting late, Owen," Albert sighed. "Every minute of a boy's life is precious and should not be wasted."

"So I'm going to dedicate my limited time to endless learning," Owen replied with a smile.

"Remember what you said today, you'll regret it, Owen." Albert raised his hand to pinch Owen's cheek, but unsurprisingly, Owen dodged. He persisted, reaching out again: "Can't I even pinch you once? Back when you were little, you loved having me hold you..."

Don't think I don't remember that time... Irving skillfully dodged his father's hand, recalling the unbearable past. Back then, as a baby, he was helplessly pricked by his father's beard, kneaded like dough, and tossed around like a basketball, making him wonder if he was being used as a stress reliever.

Ms. Adeline leaned against the door, stroking her chin with one hand, watching the father and son playfully bickering with a smile. Then she helped Owen straighten his robe, which had become askew from their playful fight.

When it was almost time, they arrived at King's Cross Station together, passed through the partition between Platforms 9 and 10, and came to Platform 9¾.

The crimson Hogwarts Express was parked beside the platform, its steam locomotive billowing smoke into the air. The platform was crowded with chattering people, cats of all colors darted around at their feet, and owls hooted shrilly.

"Cough cough... When will they finally get rid of this bulky metal lump?" Mr. Albert coughed, choking on the smoke. "Using Floo Powder is just a matter of a moment."

"Then they'll have to spend even more time looking for those little ones who unintentionally or intentionally gave the wrong destination," Ms. Adeline said with a smile in her gentle tone.

"Okay, that makes sense." Albert pursed his lips.

"Remember, Owen, if anything happens at school again this year, be sure to write to us. Don't take any more risks," Adeline said seriously, placing her right hand on Owen's shoulder.

"I will, Mom," Owen nodded obediently.

The family chatted for a while until the train sounded its piercing whistle. Only then did Owen board the train with his suitcase, wave goodbye to his parents, and then search for an empty carriage along the aisle. With departure time approaching, there weren't many empty carriages left.

He saw Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle sitting in a carriage that was already full. Blaise shrugged at him and pointed to the next carriage.

Owen went to the outside of the next carriage and peeked inside through the window in the door. Daphne and Pansy were sitting inside, along with Millison Burst, a classmate, and two other girls he didn't recognize.

He continued walking and saw Neville sitting in a carriage with a little girl he didn't recognize. He knocked on the door before asking, "May I sit here?"

Neville, holding his toad Rafer, nodded quickly upon seeing Owen, then looked at the girl sitting opposite him. The girl, who had been facing away from the aisle, finally turned around, and Owen could see that she had been breathing on the car window and drawing on the glass.

"Of course," she said in a dreamlike tone, her slightly bulging light-colored eyes fixed on Owen's face, looking somewhat surprised.

Owen sat next to Neville, smiling and nodding at the girl across from him. His gaze swept over the butterbeer cork necklace around her neck and the orange carrot earrings on her ears, finally settling on her long, golden hair, which was even more disheveled than Hermione's.

Hmm, I'm itching to cast a spell to tidy her up.

The little girl seemed to sense something and raised her hand to tidy her hair, only to make it even messier.

"Ahem, hello. I'm Owen Shafik, a sophomore like Neville," Owen said with a light cough.

"Hello, I'm Luna Lovegood, a first-year student." The little girl's silver eyes remained fixed on him, and she said in a daze.

Irving let her look him over, then turned to glance at the drawing she had made on the car window earlier. Hmm, stream of consciousness, abstract art; he couldn't understand it.

As the train began to move slowly forward, he noticed Luna was still looking at him, her gaze filled with confusion and surprise, yet also as if she were about to fall asleep. He then spoke softly, breaking the somewhat awkward silence in the carriage: "Excuse me, is there something on my face?"

"Black," Luna said casually, then looked away and turned to look out the car window.

Irving wiped his face and looked at Neville.

"There's nothing there." Neville honestly searched Owen's face several times before raising his hand to assure him.

"Okay." Owen could only say that she was indeed a crazy girl, and her thought process was truly extraordinary.

Just then, the door to the private room was pushed open again, and a red-haired head poked in, panting, and asked, "Hi, may I sit here?"

None of the three objected, and Luna even kindly went over to help carry the girl's luggage inside.

"Thank you." The girl brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, sat down opposite Owen, and introduced herself: "Ginny Weasley."

The car began to pick up speed, and the scenery outside the window was quickly left behind. The four people in the carriage chatted, and the atmosphere gradually became more harmonious. Although Ginny gave him a strange look when Owen mentioned his college, he could always make himself very popular if he wanted to.

"Ginny, why aren't you with your brothers?" Owen asked casually when the atmosphere was right.

"They're all busy with their own things," Ginny said nonchalantly.

"What are Fred and George up to? Last year they convinced me to invest in their business, and I ended up losing everything," Owen said with a grin, as if he were on very good terms with them.

Ginny gave him a sympathetic look. "I hope he's busy playing pranks." She rested her chin on her hand, gazing out the car window with a troubled expression, like a worried mother. "They seem to be having some trouble lately, which is quite unusual, isn't it?"

"They...will have a falling out?" Owen raised his eyebrows.

"This is the first time I've seen this either. They've always been inseparable since they were little, but recently their relationship has become a bit strange." Ginny sighed deeply, pretending to be a mature little adult. "I guess, like Dad said, they're finally starting to grow up."

Luna, standing nearby, burst into laughter as if she'd heard a hilarious joke, laughing so hard tears streamed down her face. The other three stared at her. After a long while, she finally stopped laughing, wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, and pulled out a copy of "Singing the Quibbles" to cover her face.

"How's Ron doing lately?" Owen continued, seemingly genuinely concerned for his friend.

"His mouse is missing, and he's been really upset lately... I guess so." Ginny seemed a little angry and became more talkative. "He's been locking himself in his room all the time, acting all mysterious. And Percy, he's writing letters every day, and he's so sarcastic when he sees people... The atmosphere at home has become really weird lately because of this."

Owen blinked, his expression turning serious. The Weasley twins were having a falling out, Ron was acting mysteriously, and Percy was being sarcastic. While it didn't sound too outlandish, combined with the missing tiara... the Weasley family was really going to take things to the extreme.

"Who's the problem? Or rather, they're all the problem?" He tapped the table lightly, a playing card tumbling smoothly in his hand, its suit changing constantly with the ebb and flow of his thoughts, sometimes spades, sometimes hearts, and then diamonds and clubs.

Luna's eyes were glued to the top of the magazine, fixed on Owen's hand movements. Suddenly, she spoke up: "This isn't magic."

Owen looked up at her in surprise. After a moment, he suddenly gripped the cards in his hand, clenched his fist, and then released it, revealing a white rose in his palm. He handed the flower to Luna and, under the stunned gazes of Ginny and Neville, said, "I like you." She was the first person in the world to immediately see that Owen's magic wasn't real magic; children like that were definitely more endearing.

"Thank you." Luna naturally took the flower and tucked it behind her left ear.

Irving nodded politely and continued the conversation. Luna raised the magazine in her hand again, reading calmly and attentively.

Ginny and Neville exchanged a glance, and they suddenly realized that both of them had equally strange thought processes.

Thank you so much to reader 20180127183357667 for the 1000 Qidian coins! Thank you so much, sir/madam!

(End of this chapter)