A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 159 Become the Heir!

"Gidero Lockhart, that... damn peacock!"

After the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class since Peter Pettigrew's disappearance, amidst Lockhart's enthusiastic urging everyone to buy his complete works, Draco grumbled indignantly, "I thought no guy could be dumber than Quirrell, but today I've truly seen something amazing..."

Lockhart eventually became the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, albeit as a substitute. He took the position with great enthusiasm, as he was currently embroiled in a public controversy and desperately needed such an opportunity to clear his name.

In this class, he first asked the students to fill out a three-page questionnaire with questions like the following:

What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?

What is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday?

What would be Gilderoy Lockhart's ideal birthday present?

Not only was Draco disgusted, but Owen also became rather dejected. After Lockhart collected the exam papers, he launched into a passionate tale of his exploits, not only recounting stories from his own books but also calling Harry up to play a werewolf and demonstrate how he subdued it. Owen, sitting next to Harry, also suffered the consequences, being dragged onto the stage by Lockhart to play a poor girl being chased by a werewolf…

Owen maintained a cold expression throughout, barely able to contain his murderous intent. Only Harry was distracted, nearly knocking out Lockhart's gleaming front teeth with his elbow. He was still worried about Dumbledore's health.

"To be honest, I kind of miss Peter Pettigrew..." Draco said with a dark expression. "Of course, I'd catch him and throw him into Azkaban; that's where he belongs."

"Actually, if you treat it as a comedy, at least you can have some fun." Blaise grinned smugly and stuffed his camera deeper into his pocket.

"I can testify that Blaise took photos of you during class," Daphne said with a smile, playfully sticking out her tongue.

"Oh, I admit it, I even took a picture of you secretly picking your nose." Blaise looked at her with ill intent.

"Really? I'm quite curious," Daphne said casually, arms crossed. "Should we wash it and show it to everyone?"

Blaise's lips twitched. He'd never actually captured Daphne in an embarrassing situation; the young woman always seemed so poised. He rolled his eyes and said, "Alright, I've decided to brew some compound potions from now on. Then there won't be anyone's embarrassing past that I can't capture... Don't come begging me then, okay?"

"Beat him up!" Draco pointed at Blaise's smug face, and Crabbe and Gore pounced on him swiftly, expertly pinning Blaise against the wall and tickling him with their chubby hands.

As Irving watched this lively and amusing scene and listened to Blaise's howling pleas for mercy, he couldn't help but smile, and his terrible mood instantly improved.

Nyx poked his bald, ugly head out of his pocket, glanced at it disdainfully, then flapped his withered little wings and made a soft chirping sound, conveying his hunger to Owen.

Empathetic, Owen grumbled as he stuffed a handful of herbs into his pocket, finally calming Nyx down. Although Nyx was a mutated oddity, his fondness for herbs was no different from other phoenixes, and he also enjoyed fruit, making him easy to care for. However, the newly hatched chicks needed to be fed frequently and constantly seemed to be signaling their hunger, causing his appetite to increase considerably…

Based on his experience with Dumbledore, a newly hatched phoenix only needs about a year to reach adulthood. Owen just hoped Nyx could grow up faster and spend less time as an ugly ground chicken.

He glanced at the troublemaker happily munching in his pocket, twirling a coin deftly between his fingers. If Nyx weren't so disliked by everyone except him, and if he weren't always causing trouble without Nyx watching over him, he'd really like to hand the guy over to Hagrid to raise; Hagrid would surely be overjoyed…

"Chirp!" Nyx, sensing Owen's thoughts, chirped in annoyance and pecked Owen's waist through his robe, feeling as if she had pecked her skin.

Owen grabbed Nyx's beak and wouldn't let go no matter how much it struggled. You can't spoil a brat like that, or it'll keep acting this way. Only after Nyx tearfully promised it would never do it again did he release its grip, tossing some of its favorite herbs into his pocket.

"Owen, what the hell is that bird of yours?" Draco squinted and kept peering into his pocket. He'd only made a nasty remark about Nyx this morning, and the bird, holding a grudge, had pecked his toe, and his big toe still hurt.

"Who knows?" Owen chuckled. "Let's see how it goes after it heals."

"I think it looks like a crow, except its neck is a bit long," Draco said, stroking his chin. "And it's bigger too... a bald, long-necked crow?"

Nix stopped eating and poked its head out of the pocket, its bright red eyes staring intently at him—it would remember this little blond guy!

In Nyx's mind, the first person it would teach a lesson when it grew up was Fox, who bullied it because it was an adult. But when it grew up, it would be Nyx bullying Fox. However, until then, it wouldn't be so bad to have a little blond kid to bully.

Sensing Nyx's thoughts, Owen chuckled and pressed its head back down, then joined the others back to the common room.

While Draco and the others were playing with the Goblin Stone, Harry sat down next to Owen, preoccupied with his own thoughts. After a moment's hesitation, he recounted everything Dumbledore had told him the night before and the events that had happened.

"Such an important matter... and you just blurted it out like that?" Owen raised his eyebrows in surprise. He already knew about this information and was mentally prepared for Dumbledore's situation. What bothered him was that Harry had just told him so casually?

"I only intended to tell you. Dumbledore said that I have to decide for myself whether to tell others and who to tell them..." Harry glanced at Draco and the others who were having a great time, and gave Owen a trusting smile. "I believe you won't tell anyone... As for Draco and the others, they are too young."

Owen stared at him blankly, remained silent for a moment, then pursed his lips and smiled, "You and I aren't that old." It felt pretty good to be trusted wholeheartedly by a fool.

"Yeah, but I always feel we're much more mature, aren't we?" Harry sighed knowingly. "Maybe that's what the books say, that with more experience, the soul becomes more weathered."

"I don't think I look weathered at all," Owen said with a strange twitch of his lips. Nyx swaggered across the table in front of him with an arrogant, unrecognizable gait, looking rather jarring.

"Alright, let's not talk about this anymore." Harry smiled at Nyx. Regardless, he still trusted Owen, even though he'd felt something was off about him lately. But now he was certain Owen wasn't under Voldemort's control; after all, if Owen really wanted to harm him, he'd be dead by now.

He had long since come to terms with it. Whatever secrets Irving might have, he had never harmed him. On the contrary, it was Irving who had always answered his questions, always helped and supported him, and saved his life several times. If he couldn't trust someone like that, then who could he trust?

He believed that if he gave his heart, one day Irving would open up to him completely and reveal more secrets. He looked forward to that day.

Harry rubbed his hands together, and said somewhat slyly, "Look, I've told you everything I know. Can you tell me about the information you've gathered?"

"So that's what you were planning..." Owen looked at him thoughtfully.

Harry coughed lightly, adjusted his glasses, and then grinned at him. He knew Owen was always intelligent and observant, always able to notice clues others missed and make correct deductions. It was Owen who had reminded him about Peter Pettigrew's situation... He knew Owen's personality; this guy definitely had a lot of information he wasn't revealing.

"I just hope... that if you ever discover anything related to me in the future, you can tell me about it and take me with you to investigate." He said somewhat awkwardly, his fingers unconsciously fidgeting with the armrest of the chair. "For example, about Voldemort... you see, the prophecy says that he and I are mortal enemies, right? I'll try my best not to hold you back, and I should be able to help out a little."

Nyx wobbled over, his shiny black beak opening and closing, and he gave Harry a disdainful "chirp" of mockery.

Harry slapped it onto the table, picked up a glass bottle, put it inside, and then placed a heavy book on top of it.

Nyx angrily slammed the glass bottle shut, its red eyes gleaming with malice. It had decided that from now on, this scraggly-haired fellow would be its second most hated character!

"How is it?" Harry looked at Owen again, his eyes filled with anticipation and nervousness.

Owen watched with amusement as Nyx leaped and thrashed about inside the bottle, unmoved by its pitiful pleas for help. Then he turned his gaze to Harry, his eyes darkening. Resting his chin on his hand, he said softly, "That means I might have to reveal a part of my secret to you, and then… you might not be able to handle it."

"What is there that I can't accept?" Harry shook his head firmly, then couldn't help but shudder. Owen's cool gaze sent a chill down his spine, and he instantly recalled the fear of being dominated by Owen's wicked sense of humor.

"Some...secrets that could very well lead us astray from now on," Owen said with a half-smile. His expression was enigmatic in the greenish light of the lounge.

Harry sat up straight, looking serious, and said earnestly, "How could we part ways if you haven't betrayed or hurt me? Have you?"

Irving thought about it carefully and said, "No."

"So, do you want to do it?"

"I don't want to." Owen shook his head.

"That's settled then." Harry patted his shoulder, looking reassuringly at his little brother. "Why worry about so many unnecessary things?"

Owen's smile deepened as he turned to look at the flames burning in the fireplace. He did indeed aspire to make a name for himself on the world stage, but fundamentally, he wanted to bring about positive change. After all, he had once loved this world through books and had people he cared about here; he didn't want it to become a mess.

"Hmm, I think we need a slogan, after all, you're the legendary savior." He pondered for a moment, then said with a smile, "For a brighter future?"

"You agreed to take me with you?" Harry said excitedly, putting aside the embarrassment caused by the title of "savior".

"But I have one condition," Irving said slowly, "you must learn Occlumency."

"That spell to counter Legilimency?" Harry thought for a while before vaguely recalling a description from a book Dumbledore had shown him. "Okay, I'll start learning right away!"

"No rush." ​​Owen smiled, narrowing his eyes, and pulled Nyx, who was screaming more and more pitifully, out of the cup, kneading her in his hands like a stress ball. "Because there's something more important..."

He paused for a moment to build suspense before saying, "I may have found Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets."

"What?" Harry jumped up.

"If you keep making such a fuss, I'm not taking you with me anymore," Owen said with disdain.

Harry immediately sat down obediently, staring at him with his beautiful emerald green eyes, a hint of resentment in his expression. Such an important thing, and he's only bringing it up now…

"I only got a lead a couple of days ago, so I'm not sure yet," Owen said matter-of-factly. "Want to come with me to investigate?"

"Okay," Harry said, then hesitated, "Should we tell the professors?"

"I haven't confirmed whether it is or not, and that place... is in a rather awkward location." Owen looked embarrassed, a faint blush appearing on his pale cheeks.

Harry blinked and said decisively, "Then I'll go with you! How about we go now?" He looked somewhat excited.

"Okay." Owen stuffed Nyx into his pocket, then placed Melett, who was lying on his lap, on the armchair beside him. He then returned to his dorm room and picked up his black briefcase. After summer vacation, he switched to a larger briefcase, which contained several giant eight-eyed spiders he had caught in the Forbidden Forest a few days ago for research purposes... well, making use of them as food for the basilisks.

They left the common room together; Owen cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself, and Harry donned his Invisibility Cloak. The two stealthily emerged from the damp, chilly dungeon and descended the stairs to the second floor.

"Around here?" Harry felt the place was becoming more and more familiar.

"The day Peter Pettigrew attacked you, he brought you here," Owen said calmly, his steps light. "I suspect that since he was working for Voldemort, he might have wanted to take you to the Chamber of Secrets that night. So I've been searching the area for the past two days and finally found a clue."

"Why didn't I think of that!" Harry sighed in frustration. Being around Owen always made him feel incredibly stupid. But he was delighted that Owen was finally calling Voldemort by his first name; this discovery made his steps lighter.

"Over here..." Owen said softly, pulling Harry into the bathroom. He could hear Moaning Myrtle sobbing irritably in the toilet stall at the far end.

"The girls' restroom?" Harry muttered, feeling uneasy. He finally understood why Owen didn't want to tell the professor about it so easily.

Owen led Harry to the brass faucet engraved with a small snake: "Want to try Parsley?"

"Can't you say it?" Harry stared at the small snake next to the bronze dragon head and said in Parsleyan, "Open it."

The pool had sunk, revealing a large water pipe opening. Harry, both excited and nervous, circled the entrance, then asked, barely containing his excitement, "Shall we go down and take a look?"

"Let's check if there are any traps inside." Owen opened his briefcase and used a puppet spell to control a large spider to jump out and stagger into the pipe.

"You're keeping spiders in that box?" Harry's expression froze. If he remembered correctly, that box had always been in their dorm room, right? Ever since he was almost bitten to death by a poisonous spider last semester, he'd developed a bit of a phobia of spiders.

"Ah, experimental materials." Owen closed his eyes, focusing on manipulating the spider to slide down the pipe. After reaching the end of the passage, he opened his eyes. "No problem down there, let's go in and take a look."

He pulled out some Basilisk-proof glasses from his pocket, their effectiveness uncertain, put them on, cast an Unbreakable Charm on Harry's glasses, and then elegantly waved his wand, conjuring a soft yet sturdy leather raft. He lay on it and slid down the slippery, winding pipe, finally bursting out at the end and landing on the wet ground.

Owen climbed off the raft, his robes spotless. Just as he straightened his hair, Harry burst out of the pipe with a whoosh, landing sprawled on the ground.

They followed the passage through the stone door at the end and arrived at a room with a huge Slytherin statue. On either side of the room, giant serpents coiled around stone pillars, their emerald eyes glowing eerily, as if they were alive, watching the two young wizards. The statue had a gaunt, aged face, with sparse, long beards hanging down to the hem of its wizard's robes, giving it a solemn and somber appearance.

"Is there no way forward?" Harry raised his wand, the bright light dispelling the darkness around him. "The basilisk doesn't seem to be here... but this must be its lair. Think of that snakeskin and those bones!" His dry voice echoed in the empty room, sending chills down his spine.

"But why isn't the basilisk here?" Owen's clear, calm voice rang out, sounding pleasant yet hollow, inexplicably sending a chill down one's spine. "I think there must be other rooms here."

"Look! There are words here!" Harry exclaimed, standing in front of the Slytherin statue, which was as tall as the room's ceiling, pointing to the base of the statue. The enormous face of the Slytherin statue seemed to be silently gazing at the two of them.

Irving glanced at the base of the statue, which was carved with crooked, snake-like patterns that looked like decorative designs.

"Is this Parseltongue?" he asked with interest. Parseltongue includes not only Parseltongue language but also Parseltongue script, though Tom certainly hadn't taught him to recognize it.

"Huh?" Harry responded blankly, only then realizing that the handwriting in front of him was not the familiar alphabet, but a very strange and unfamiliar script that he could recognize.

"What does it say?" Owen asked with a mischievous smirk.

"Speak to me, Slytherin—the greatest of the four great leaders of Hogwarts," Harry said.

Amidst the rumbling sound, the enormous face of the stone sculpture came to life, its mouth opening into a huge black hole, from which rustling crawling sounds emanated.

"Run...run! The Basilisk is coming!" Harry's hair stood on end, and the fear of being chased by the Basilisk returned. He quickly closed his eyes, grabbed Owen's wrist, and pulled him to run. In his panic, he crashed into the dark wall of the Chamber of Secrets and fell to the ground, feeling dizzy and disoriented.

Irving stopped in his tracks and lowered his eyes.

"They've arrived...the two heirs..." the basilisk's hoarse whisper echoed through the long room, "willing to serve you...what are your orders?"

"Hey, looks like we don't need to run anymore, Harry," Owen chuckled.

"What heir?" Harry stammered, instinctively retorting, "I'm not the heir!"

"You are!" said the basilisk. It stared at Harry with its large, yellow eyes, utterly bewildered, then looked eagerly at Owen, who was facing away from it, and said expectantly, "Hungry... for food!"

Owen raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised that the basilisk had recognized him. Last time, he had completely concealed his face, voice, and even scent; it seemed the basilisk possessed a unique ability to recognize people.

He opened his briefcase and chased out several sickly giant eight-eyed spiders. As soon as they crawled out of the briefcase, the spiders let out piercing screams and collapsed to the ground, unable to move in extreme panic.

"Spiders...delicious spiders..." The basilisk's voice was filled with greed and pleasure. It swallowed the large spiders whole, one after another, and then licked its nose with its forked tongue, its impression of Owen even better.

Still hungry...

"Sweetie, I'll bring you food again next time," Owen comforted.

"There...there's going to be another time?" Harry finally managed to get up, his back pressed against the wall, and stammered.

"Don't be afraid, you're the heir," Owen said with a wicked grin. "With control of this secret chamber, we might be able to catch that guy... You see, the basilisk is actually quite obedient, isn't it?"

"Yes," the basilisk replied.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Harry felt that things were going a bit too far.

"Become the heir to Slytherin, Harry!" Owen announced cheerfully.

Harry was completely bewildered. How could he, an innocent student, have become the heir?

Kyrie Irving screwed me over!

(End of this chapter)