A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 199 The Party at Number 12 Grimmauld Place

On the evening of the last day of July, Irving yawned as he walked out of the lab, casually took out a bottle of bright green vitality potion, and gulped it down.

The spicy and stimulating medicine slid down his throat, followed by a minty coolness that sent a shiver through him, instantly making him feel incredibly energetic.

"With this potion, I'm no longer afraid of staying up all night," Owen exclaimed, unwrapping a mint and popping it into his mouth. "The feeling of going head-to-head with death is really exhilarating."

Melett, licking his paws at his feet, glared at him. "Is this your excuse for not sleeping for two days?"

"Owen, don't forget you have a birthday party to attend tonight." Mrs. Shafik's voice came from below the stairs, sounding soothing and ethereal in the long corridor.

"I know, Mom," Owen said somewhat indistinctly, sucking on the candy in his mouth.

"I've prepared a few dresses for you; they're in your bedroom," Mrs. Shafik replied.

Irving agreed as he slowly walked back to his room, taking out several formal suits hanging in the closet and examining them one by one.

"Hmm, this one's a bit too flashy, definitely Dad's doing," he said to Melett with interest. "This one's too formal... um, this one's too casual, it'll seem a bit impolite. By the way, where's Nyx again?"

"Meow~" Melete meowed lazily.

"Did it fall into the woods while learning to fly?" Owen's voice was slightly husky and lazy. "It must have been really worried, didn't it? Hopefully, it didn't get snatched away by any wild animals in the woods... I think this one's pretty good, what do you think?"

Melete leisurely swished his tail and nodded his chin with a dignified air.

Owen changed into the dark long dress embroidered with silver trim, carefully straightened the collar and cuffs, and then took out a beautifully wrapped gift box from the cabinet next to him. Inside was a complete set of wand care tools, as well as several exquisite chains that could connect wands to the robe to prevent them from being disarmed.

"I have to go now. Be good at home." Owen bent down, rubbed the cat's head, and left with the gift box.

"Meow." Melete meowed softly, jumped onto Owen's bed, and curled up into a fluffy ball on the soft pillow.

When Owen entered the living room, he found the Shafiqs there, huddled together, studying something. Hearing his footsteps, Mr. Shafiq turned and looked him up and down, smiling as he said, "You look quite the connoisseur. Would you like me to take you there?"

"No need, I can get there myself," Owen said, walking straight to the fireplace at the other end.

"You'd better bring a house-elf with you," Mr. Shafik suggested. "Go to London through the fireplace, and then have the house-elf Apparate you there."

Irving shook his head and smiled; he would never admit that he knew how to Apparate.

The reason for going directly to 12 Grimmauld Place without using Floo Powder is that it would be extremely reckless and rude. Moreover, fireplaces in private residences are generally designed to block intruders to prevent them from sneaking into the house via Floo Network. Only fireplaces in some public places are open to all visitors, such as the Leaky Cauldron, which Owen is about to visit.

Owen lit the fireplace, sprinkled some Floo Powder inside, and stepped in. In the blink of an eye, he was in faraway London. Strangely dressed wizards sat in the Leaky Cauldron, the cacophony of voices filling the air, while pedestrians and vehicles bustled past outside.

He cleaned the ashes off his body, stepped out of the bar, and Apparated directly to a secluded street corner.

With a loud bang, Owen was already standing in an empty alley outside King's Cross station. He had located Grimmauld Place on the map outside the station; it wasn't far from here.

"It's about two kilometers from here." Owen noted the route, walked to a deserted spot, raised his wand, and continued Apparating.

If he wanted to go to a place he had been before, he could simply Apparate there. However, this was his first time visiting Grimmauld Place, so it would be a little more complicated.

After several Apparitions, he strolled leisurely along the street, surrounded by Muggles. Walking among suited office workers and vibrant young people, Owen felt a sense of déjà vu, as if he had returned to a previous life.

Watching the birds returning to their nests in the twilight, he slowly exhaled, a smile gradually spreading across his face, and his mood inexplicably became light and carefree.

After walking along the street for two minutes, Owen turned into a small square next to it, where the number of pedestrians suddenly decreased. The grass in the center was messy and overgrown, and the houses on both sides looked gloomy, with peeling paint on the doors and broken windows in some houses.

Owen arrived at number 12 in Grimmauld Place and glanced at the old building. This building hadn't yet been chosen as the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix; although it couldn't be marked on a map, it was visible to wizards.

The house in front of me has an ancient and weathered feel, but it is not as dirty and dilapidated as described in the original book. It has obviously been carefully cleaned and repaired.

The cleaned walls were a dull gray-brown, with bright window glass. The dark windows looked gloomy, but warm orange light shone from a few of them.

Irving stepped onto the repaired stone steps and stood before the dark door. The black paint on the door was freshly applied, and it featured a large, coiled snake-shaped door knocker. Next to it was a conspicuous sign: Do not ring the doorbell!

A loud "crack" rang in his ears, and Draco appeared out of thin air a short distance away. He shook off the house-elf beside him and strode over. The house-elf bowed deeply, then Apparated and vanished.

"Good evening." Draco lazily raised his chin at Owen, glanced around, and then muttered disdainfully at the piles of garbage outside the houses, "I really don't understand why they live in places like this. Look how slovenly Muggles are, aren't they?"

"Probably." Owen was too lazy to discuss the topic and gave a casual, perfunctory answer. He glanced at the "Don't Ring the Doorbell" sign with amusement, then pulled on the silver door knocker and knocked.

After knocking twice, a metallic clanging and chain-sliding sound came from inside. The door creaked open, and the scent of sandalwood air freshener wafted out through the crack.

Harry poked his head out of the door and grinned when he saw the two of them.

"Owen, Draco, you've arrived!" He stood in the bright foyer, wearing a dark green robe, his smile as radiant as if he were hosting a wedding, his cheeks flushed with joy.

"Come in quickly, keep your voice down," he said in a low voice, opening the door to welcome the two inside, then closing the door again and guiding them upstairs.

With a loud "bang," Draco accidentally knocked over an umbrella frame made of a giant monster's leg and fell to the ground with a cry of "Ouch!"

"Oh no!" Harry muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, the two velvet curtains hanging beside the entrance hall were lifted, revealing a portrait of an old woman wearing a black hat. She opened her mouth and let out a deafening, chilling scream, as if she were being tortured.

"You beast! You spendthrift! You disgrace to the family, the bastard I gave birth to! How dare you bring your filthy bastard to defile my ancestral home!" the old woman cursed harshly.

Owen covered his ears, watching with interest as Harry struggled to pull the curtains shut. Draco flinched in fright, his right hand instinctively hitting the base of the umbrella stand, causing him to slump back to the ground.

A man with long black hair burst out from a nearby door, grabbed the curtain, and roared at the old woman in the portrait, "Shut up! You horrible old witch!"

The two women yelled at each other for a long time before finally managing to pull the curtains shut with great effort. The old woman's screams stopped, but everyone's ears were still ringing.

"Hello, it's a pity you've had to go through this." Sirius Black breathed heavily, brushing aside his long black hair to reveal a face that was still thin but whose original handsome features were now visible.

He scrutinized Owen and Draco with his bright black eyes, his expression welcoming yet carrying a hint of barely perceptible scrutiny, especially when he looked at Draco.

"Hello, Mr. Blake," Owen politely indicated that he didn't mind.

Harry reached out and pulled Draco to his feet, introducing them: "This is Sirius, my godfather. This is Owen and Draco..."

"Oh, I've heard my mother talk about you, the Black family freak..." Draco glanced at Sirius and said slowly in a low voice, only to be stopped by Harry pulling him away.

Owen blinked, amused, and saw Sirius Black's lips twitch. He knew Draco wasn't deliberately provoking him; he just couldn't speak human language.

"Well, according to you, aren't I also a freak of the Potter family?" Harry said self-deprecatingly, breaking the somewhat awkward atmosphere. Just then, there was another muffled knock on the door.

He opened the door, and Neville Longbottom stood outside, looking somewhat reserved.

"Welcome, Neville." Harry greeted him warmly and led them upstairs. "Now everyone's here. Let's go upstairs. Be careful, that staircase is loose..."

"You're from the Longbottom family?" Sirius's expression softened considerably when facing Neville. He adjusted the umbrella frame made of the giant's leg and spoke to him gently, "How's your grandmother?"

As the group climbed to the second floor, a hunched-over house-elf slowly approached them. This house-elf was very old, wearing only a dirty rag, and was muttering softly in a hoarse, bullfrog-like voice.

"Oh, my poor mistress, look what they've done to her house! They even tried to destroy her most prized tapestry. If she could know this from beyond the grave, what would she say to old Kreacher? Oh, what can poor old Kreacher do..."

"I think I left you in the kitchen, Kreacher," Sirius said curtly.

"Kreacher is cleaning." Kreacher bowed, his bloodshot eyes sweeping across the group of people, widening even more when he saw Draco. "Oh, look who Kreacher has found, Miss Sissy's son! It's so good to see you!"

He wiped his nose with tears in his eyes, then bowed deeply again, his enormous nose almost flattened on the ground.

Draco twitched his lips, took two steps back with a hint of disgust, crossed his arms, and turned his face away.

"I don't mind if you go with him," Sirius said sternly.

"After returning from Azkaban, he started bossing Kreacher around. He even wanted to kick Kreacher out of the house so he could vandalize the mistress's property." Kreacher bowed to him again, lowering his voice to continue muttering, "Kreacher will absolutely not let him succeed..."

He walked slowly away, his back hunched, his hoarse voice still carrying in the distance: "The young master is an ungrateful scoundrel who broke his mother's heart... Kreacher should keep Miss Sissy's son away from people like him. If he goes astray with him, how heartbroken Miss Sissy will be... How dare Miss Sissy's child associate with Mudbloods..."

"He's Kreacher, the house-elf here..." Sensing the atmosphere becoming awkward again, Harry quickly said, "Don't worry about him, he's not quite right in the head."

Draco turned and glared at him, giving a soft "humph" and a cryptic grin. Sirius remained silent with a sullen face, Neville looked around anxiously, and Owen was secretly laughing.

They turned a corner, and another house-elf stood before a doorway, carrying a tall pile of things. He called out in a shrill voice, "Happy Birthday, Harry Potter!" But upon seeing Draco, he seemed to flinch, nearly dropping what he was carrying.

"Thank you. You've worked hard, Dobby," Harry said with a smile.

"Dobby's here too?" Owen asked casually as he watched Dobby stagger away with his things in his arms.

"Yes, Sirius hired Dobby," Harry replied. "Dobby couldn't find a job. Few people would take on a house-elf who needs payment, not even Dumbledore would let him work at Hogwarts..." He sounded somewhat helpless as he said this.

Owen nodded knowingly. Grindelwald was a staunch wizard supremacist; of course, he couldn't allow a house-elf who craved freedom to enter Hogwarts. What if he corrupted the other house-elves?

In fact, the fact that Dobby was able to walk out of his prison unscathed already shows that Grindelwald's temperament has improved considerably after decades of imprisonment.

"...Thanks to Dobby, we were able to clean out this old house." Harry praised Dobby, his expression turning a little embarrassed. Because compared to Dobby's diligence and competence, a weekly salary of one Galleon was really too little, but Dobby was only willing to accept that much.

"Why did you choose this location for the birthday party?" Owen raised his eyebrows.

Harry turned to look at Sirius, who was talking to Neville, and whispered, "Sirius doesn't want too many people to know his current address because I sometimes go and stay with him for a few days—you know, although Dumbledore made me stay at the Dursleys' house, he didn't forbid me from visiting—Sirius thinks the wizarding world isn't safe, especially after he found out I was being watched by the Aether Society."

Owen nodded in agreement, acknowledging Sirius's caution; the wizarding world had never been truly safe.

"Sirius originally planned to book the entire auditorium of a theater, hire a few bands and stuff, and even wanted to invite the whole year..." Harry looked like he was still shaken. "It took me a lot of effort to convince him to give up that idea."

"Why doesn't he live here?" Draco interjected.

"He doesn't like this house, as you can see, and this house isn't very welcoming to him either..." Harry shrugged, looked at a man walking from the other side, and introduced him to them: "This is Remus Lupin, Sirius's friend."

"Happy birthday, Harry." Lupin smiled gently on his pale face and nodded slightly to Owen. "Have a pleasant evening."

The group entered the living room, a long room with high ceilings that had been carefully decorated.

Beautiful ribbons and floral vines adorned the olive-green walls, while an exquisitely patterned carpet shifted in vibrant colors. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and shimmering flower fairies flitted about. At the other end of the room, an antique tapestry was entwined with flower-laden vines, almost completely obscuring the intricate family tree depicted on it.

The room was already quite full. Blaise Zabini was adjusting a buzzing instrument, while Pansy Parkinson watched. Ginny Weasley had also called over her brothers, the twins who were playfully teasing their little brother Ron, squirming a popping toy mouse.

Daphne Greengrass sat on the sofa with a little girl who looked just like her, quietly enjoying the goblin band's performance. Crabbe and Goyle stared longingly at the candies and cakes spread out on the table, their mouths watering. Hermione stood by the wall, studying the portraits and tapestries, then turned and waved happily at them.

In addition, several members of the Slytherin Quidditch team, a few classmates from the same year with whom he had a good relationship, and even Colin Crevey, a big fan of Harry, was invited.

"Alright, tonight's yours," Sirius Black said with a grin. Lupin stood by the door, a calm and gentle smile on his face.

Owen placed the gift box he had brought among a pile of birthday presents and said with a smile, "Happy birthday, Harry."

He sat down on the sofa and greeted the people he knew. Daphne ruffled the hair of the little girl next to her and introduced her with a smile, "This is my sister, Astoria. She's starting school this year."

"Sister, stop fooling around." Astoria helplessly combed her messy hair. She had the same golden hair and deep blue eyes as Daphne, but her temperament was more gentle and reserved, and her skin was too pale.

"Hello, I'm Owen." Owen smiled slightly, watching the people around him swaying their bodies to the music.

Harry was busy unwrapping his birthday presents when he couldn't help but gasp when he opened the gift Sirius Black had given him.

"Wow, a Firebolt!" A large crowd gathered around, their faces filled with envy as they gazed at the sleek, graceful flying broom. Someone rattled off a story with great enthusiasm: "This is the latest model, the fastest flying broom in the world! It can accelerate to 150 miles per hour in ten seconds!"

"This is too extravagant..." Harry said, looking at Sirius Black, while lovingly stroking the smooth ash wood handle of the Firebolt, his eyes shining brightly.

A group of young wizards cautiously reached out to stroke the beautiful flying broom, chattering loudly and completely drowning out Harry, the protagonist of the day.

Dobby pushed a huge birthday cake, over two meters tall, into the living room, finally rescuing Harry from the awkward situation. The group sang "Happy Birthday" together, then shared the cake, and the table was laden with main courses, desserts, candies, and juice.

The young wizards took their favorite foods, and after eating and drinking their fill, the joyful atmosphere reached its peak.

The room was filled with all sorts of novel and interesting things, bringing a lot of laughter. Various kinds of fireworks whizzed across the ceiling, edible flowers and candies shaped like golden thieves floated in the air, and colorful eggs flapped their wings and flew around.

Several people chased after the Easter eggs, tapping them and excitedly collecting the little trinkets that popped out. Blaise and Draco grabbed two rings and went up into the air, strolling in space below the ceiling. Daphne and her group of girls huddled together drawing on enchanted paper, and the drawings seemed to come alive, jumping off the paper and happily circling around them.

The Weasley twins were tinkering with a machine that could randomly change people's outfits. Fred was dressed in a brightly colored Hawaiian grass skirt, while George was dressed in a colorful clown costume. They tirelessly pushed everyone around them into the machine, and when Ron was dressed in an Indian dancer's dress, the two almost burst out laughing.

Owen, intrigued, rummaged through the dressing machine, donned an extravagant Egyptian pharaoh outfit, and then enthusiastically joined the fairy band, playing a dance tune on his violin and even dancing a lively waltz with Daphne.

After playing around for a while, he stood in front of the tapestry covered by vines, parted the vines, and looked at the Black family genealogy.

"Hey Owen, wanna play a game of Wizards Chess?" Harry called out to him.

Irving thought about it for a moment, but ultimately decided not to bring up the RAB. He figured he wouldn't spoil the mood and would bring it up after the party.

"Okay," he said.

(End of this chapter)