A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 215 Time Converter

Irving slowly opened his eyes and took a deep breath of the damp, cold air in the private room.

Melete lay obediently on his lap, its fluffy tail wrapped around his wrist, purring softly and warmly.

A bright, fluorescent light shone from the tips of Daphne and Draco's wands, illuminating the dark compartment. Outside, all was dark, a light drizzle forming a thick curtain over the windows.

The screams and noises coming from each compartment disappeared, as if those who were desperately crying out had all been choked at the same time, leaving only the sound of the wind and rain outside pounding loudly against the car windows.

"What happened?" Daphne gripped Astoria's hand tightly, glancing around anxiously, her voice trembling slightly. "Is the fighting outside over?"

"My dad'll find out about this..." Draco groaned weakly, his heart pounding with anxiety. "He'll catch those guys who dared to attack the train soon, and then he'll sweep this unsafe and lousy junk into the trash! Maybe then we can use Floo Powder to go to school..."

With a whoosh, a dark burst of flames suddenly erupted in the box, startling the young wizards. Nyx flew out of the fire, perched arrogantly on Owen's shoulder, and looked down haughtily at the three frightened individuals.

"Nyx, how's it outside?" Daphne breathed a sigh of relief and quickly asked.

Owen raised his hand and touched the smooth feathers on Nyx's wings, which were completely dry. The warm feeling made him squint his eyes comfortably.

He pretended to communicate with Nyx for a moment, then watched as the phoenix, its excitement waning, vanished in a burst of flames and was teleported back to Hogwarts. Then he said, "The battle outside is almost over; the people who attacked the train have escaped..."

Before Irving could finish speaking, Draco pointed out the window and screamed, "There's something moving outside!"

Melete, who was lying on Owen's lap, also raised his head, his big ears standing up high, and his golden cat eyes looking at the ceiling with some unease.

Daphne abruptly turned her head to look out the car window, where a blurry black shadow seemed to glide past the glass. A chilling cold seeped into the car through the glass, making her shiver involuntarily.

"Daphne, I'm so cold," Astoria said weakly, clutching her cloak tightly. Her frail body trembled uncontrollably, and her lips turned deathly pale.

"Astria!" Daphne hugged her sister, pressing her head against her chest, her voice trembling with tears. "Are you feeling any better? Hang in there, soon... soon we'll be at school..."

Owen patted the cat-like creature's back to comfort it, then glanced at the trembling crowd. He slightly raised his wand, igniting a ball of orange flame above the table in front of them. The flame floated in mid-air, burning brightly and bringing a reassuring light and warmth.

"I haven't finished speaking. The mastermind among the attackers has escaped..." he continued unhurriedly, glancing outside the box, "because the Dementors have arrived."

The damaged box door was wide open, allowing them to see several blurry dark figures drifting past down the aisle. A cloaked figure suddenly stopped outside the door, its face completely hidden under the hood. A hand covered in slime and spots was vaguely visible beneath the cloak, its grayish-white skin gleaming eerily, like a rotting corpse underwater.

It inhaled slowly, a gurgling sound coming from its throat beneath the cloak, and a chill enveloped everyone.

The young wizard in the private room was ashen-faced.

Owen's eyes flickered. Unlike the others, whose faces were ashen, he felt no discomfort. A colder, more sinister feeling filled his body and mind, isolating him from the effects of the Dementors, and even carrying a hint of lurking malice.

"The Dark Guardians really did protect me from the Dementors; Voldemort didn't lie to me." He thought to himself, stroking Melett's smooth, soft fur with his fingers. "It seems I don't have to worry about being imprisoned in Azkaban anymore. How wonderful."

"Hoo... Hoo God—Guardian!" A trembling voice came.

Daphne raised her wand with trembling hands, trying to summon her Patronus, but the spell she had been able to cast successfully in her study group last semester failed her this time. She felt all her joy and hope being drained away, and the beautiful memories she desperately tried to recall were shrouded in a dark gloom.

"Protect the Gods!" she repeated through gritted teeth, her voice becoming much firmer.

Wisps of silvery-white mist emerged from the tip of her wand, but her beautiful white swan guardian spirit had not yet materialized. The thin mist, carrying a fragile and beautiful warmth, stood between the Dementor and the others, causing the Dementor's inhalation to abruptly stop, its gurgling sound caught in its throat.

At this moment, Draco also realized what was happening. He raised his wand and skillfully chanted the Patronus Charm, a thin mist billowing from the tip. Although he hadn't yet mastered summoning a complete Patronus, releasing a little mist was still within his capabilities.

The silvery mist emitted a faint glow in the darkness, isolating the chilling cold and creating a warm haven for everyone in the private room, like a fireplace in the dead of winter, giving them warmth and hope.

The Dementor paced anxiously outside the white mist, even stretching out a rotting, scabbed hand, trying to push aside the silvery-white mist blocking its way like a curtain.

As the fog in front of him thinned, Draco cried out urgently, "Owen, hurry and help!"

Owen blinked slowly, his expression a mixture of helplessness and innocence. He was really bad at handling this situation; he couldn't very well release the Dark Lord Guardians in a place like this.

He could use a soul version of the Stunning Spell to knock this guy out, but with so many Dementors surrounding him, doing so would only attract more Dementors, escalate the conflict and misunderstandings, and cause the situation to spiral out of control.

Dementors are, after all, guards of Azkaban, and are essentially civil servants of the Ministry of Magic. Driving them away is one thing, but knocking them unconscious changes the nature of the situation.

Owen squinted at the persistent Dementors outside the door, a formulaic smile on his face, and said in a polite but distant tone, "There is no fugitive here. Please leave." He knew that Dementors could understand human speech.

The Dementor stood motionless at the doorway, continuing to poke at the white mist in front of it. The mist grew thinner and thinner.

Owen's smile instantly turned icy, and he released a slight aura of his Dark Guardian powers, his eyes brimming with a hazy black mist. He said coldly, "Get lost!"

A chilling feeling flashed by. The Dementor outside the door suddenly stopped, then, as if sensing some terrible danger, instantly retreated far away, silently gliding away at high speed.

The others all breathed a long sigh of relief, their faces pale as they looked at each other, then looked at Owen with suspicion.

"Why are you all looking at me like that? How did that Dementor fly away? Do they not like being spoken to nicely, but prefer people to be tough on them?" Owen tilted his head in confusion, slowly clenched his left hand, and then his five fingers spread out gracefully like flower petals, revealing several beautifully packaged chocolates in his palm.

He distributed the chocolates to everyone and said slowly, "Have some chocolate; it will make you feel better."

Daphne didn't have time to think about what had just happened. She unwrapped a piece of chocolate and stuffed it into the hand of Astoria, who was curled up in a ball and shivering.

Draco took a bite of the chocolate, feeling a warm current flow through his entire body, and his expression suddenly froze. Then he jumped up from his seat, rummaged through his suitcase, pulled out a large bag of candy, and poured a pile of chocolates onto the table.

"I'm usually so tired of these things, it's rare that they're actually useful," he said, drawing out his words as he quickly tore open the wrapper of a chocolate frog.

"I never expected the Dementors would attack us." Daphne breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that Astoria's face wasn't so ashen after eating the chocolate, and took a bite of the chocolate in her hand.

"Dad said they were completely unreliable, and he was right." Draco pouted, his cheeks bulging with chocolate.

"They must have just come in to hunt down fugitives," Owen said lazily. "They probably got hungry after seeing such a huge pile of delicious food..."

Just then, a silvery-white four-legged creature galloped across the aisle, driving away the lingering Dementors and sweeping away the chilling atmosphere around the train.

Irving blinked and could vaguely make out that it was a large dog.

"Hmm, whose Patronus was that just now?" Draco said slowly. "It didn't seem like Harry's."

"Maybe it's Sirius's," Owen said casually, biting off the head of a chocolate frog and handing Melett a beef-flavored chew stick.

"Looks like this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor isn't such a complete idiot," Draco muttered.

"That was awful. I felt like I'd never be happy again," Astoria finally said in a soft voice, having recovered. She hugged the pink fluffy creature tightly, a serene and gentle smile appearing on her pale face.

"Yes, no wonder so many of the prisoners in Azkaban went insane. If it were me, I'd rather die than go there," Draco clicked his tongue.

Owen, meanwhile, leisurely tilted his head and silently observed Astoria, somewhat curious about the curse circulating in the Greengrass family bloodline. As far as he knew, this blood curse would cause a person to gradually weaken and die, much like the "Blood of Decay" curse he had studied, only seemingly a little milder.

Not all members of the Greengrass family inherit this blood curse; Daphne, for example, does not. However, the curse can be randomly activated in their bloodline, which is why witches of the Greengrass family have always had difficulty marrying—at least no pure-blood family wants to introduce the curse into their bloodline…

Just as Owen was lost in thought, Draco suddenly glanced at him sideways and grinned mischievously, "Hey Owen, you didn't summon your Patronus in that situation just now..."

Irving slightly raised his eyelids and looked at him with a smile.

"Your Patronus isn't actually a dung beetle, is he?" Draco asked with a gossipy look, his eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of a good show.

Owen shook his head without changing his expression, and said in a light tone, "My Patronus is very powerful and also very irritable. It can't help but tear the Dementors outside to pieces and then fight a bigger battle with even more Dementors. Then I'll be held accountable by the Ministry of Magic and might be thrown into Azkaban."

"Ugh—keep making this up." Draco gave a disgusted look.

They were eating chocolate in their compartment when a commotion gradually arose outside. The male prefect, who had spoken earlier, shouted, "We're safe! The professors are on their way! Everyone, please stay in your compartments for a while. The train is badly damaged and needs repairs. The university will send a vehicle to pick us up soon!"

"Those professors arrived really 'quickly,'" Draco remarked sarcastically. "They only showed up after everything was over. Are they Aurors?"

"Speaking of which, where did Harry go? Could he really have died out there?" He spoke ruthlessly, but his expression and actions betrayed his anxiety.

They waited for about fifteen minutes until the prefects from each house organized everyone to get off the bus, and then they finally saw Harry.

In the endless rain, more than a hundred carriages were parked on the muddy grass. The Thestrals stood motionless in front of the carriages, silent as statues, their pupil-less white eyes silently watching them.

Harry leaned out of one of the carriages and waved to them.

Owen and Draco boarded the carriage and saw Hermione and Neville, who had chased after Harry earlier, were also there. Daphne and Astoria boarded a carriage nearby.

Hermione's large ginger cat darted into the carriage with lightning speed, carrying a bag of candy in its mouth containing Neville's toad.

"Crooked Hill!" Hermione exclaimed, quickly picking up her cat. "You found Neville's toad! That's wonderful!"

She raised an eyebrow at Owen, glanced at the tabby cat in his arms, and said enthusiastically, "Crooked Mountain is very smart, isn't it? Just like Melete! I fell in love with it at first sight at the pet store last time..."

Irving smiled, clearly happy to share his cat-raising experience with others.

Harry sat opposite Owen, his face pale and looking unwell. Hermione and Neville would occasionally steal glances at him, their expressions worried.

"Are you hurt?" Draco snorted arrogantly at Hermione, sitting far away from her, then looked Harry up and down.

"No..." Harry's lips twitched, his face flushed, and he lowered his head, as if he wished he could shrink into a crack in the carriage.

Owen glanced at him with interest, then looked at Hermione and Neville: "What happened to you two?"

"We didn't experience anything!" Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. "We were stuck in the middle of the carriage, there were just too many people pushing forward, we couldn't get through. Then the Dementors arrived..." She glanced at Harry worriedly.

"And then, Harry, you summoned a handsome Patronus right in front of the crowd?" Draco said slowly, raising his pointed chin.

Harry remained silent, burying his face even lower, his ears and neck turning a vibrant pink.

"Harry...he's passed out," Neville said cautiously, cradling his toad, which had failed to escape again, in his hands.

"You fainted?" Draco said, emphasizing each word, then couldn't help but burst out laughing. "I didn't realize you were such a coward! I thought you were fearless! You fainted from a Dementor... Hahaha, I could laugh about this for a whole year!"

Harry lowered his head deeply, awkwardly and shamefully picking at the soles of his shoes with his toes.

Seeing Harry blush so bright red his hair was practically steaming, Owen chuckled and tugged at Draco's robe. Draco wiped away the tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes, trying hard to suppress his laughter, his lips pressed tightly together.

Owen shook his head and said softly, "Dementors awaken people's most desperate memories. Most people don't react much to Dementors because they haven't experienced the worst things. It has nothing to do with cowardice or weakness."

After hearing his words, everyone in the carriage fell silent, and Draco stopped laughing.

Harry slowly raised his head and gazed at Owen with a complex mix of gratitude and admiration in his emerald green eyes.

He couldn't understand why he had fainted. He was the first in the study group to summon his Guardian, but when faced with the Dementors, a series of terrifying screams, pleas, and maniacal laughter came his way, and he realized how weak and powerless he was.

At that moment, Irving was like a shining little angel in his eyes, rescuing him from embarrassment and self-doubt.

"Indeed, Owen is a really good person," Harry thought, making a firm decision in his heart. He must work harder from now on and overcome the influence of the Dementors as soon as possible, otherwise how could he continue to accept Dumbledore's teachings?

Owen felt a chill run down his spine from the boy's smug gaze, wondering what Harry was imagining. He lowered his head and ruffled Meurette's hair, deciding not to take out the chocolates he had prepared.

The carriage slowly began to move, and after a brief period of bumping and swaying, the Thestral spread its bat-like wings and pulled the carriage into the air.

More than a hundred horse-drawn carriages lined up and flew through the clouds—it must have been a spectacular sight. Unfortunately, the pitch-black sky and dense rain obscured everything, preventing those on the ground from witnessing this scene.

After a period of silence, the people in the carriage became lively again and started discussing the attack.

"Later we met Sirius, and he released his Patronus to drive away the Dementors. He told me that Bellatrix and Peter Pettigrew were the ones who attacked the train," Harry said dejectedly. Although he was mentally prepared to face an attack, this incident made him realize the seriousness of the situation for the first time.

They don't care if innocent people get hurt, or how many people they drag into it. They're capable of anything to kill themselves...

The thought that everyone's danger was caused by him alone made Harry feel like his heart was filled with lava and burning with anxiety and anger.

He even considered leaving the school to avoid burdening others. But the thought of leaving Hogwarts left him feeling empty inside, as if he were soaking in ice water.

"This can't go on, I have to find a solution..." He racked his brains, but couldn't come up with a good one. For the first time, he wanted to crack open his skull to see why it was so empty.

"It's them? They're insane..." Draco muttered to himself, his eyes darting around. "Crazy guys who escaped from Azkaban... Harry, you'd better hide yourself well, I don't want to get splattered with blood." He glanced at Harry and quickly looked away.

"In that case, Harry, your situation is really dangerous," Hermione said sternly. "You absolutely cannot leave Hogwarts this school year. Don't go to Hogsmeade Village either. Don't risk your life."

Neville nodded slightly, glancing quickly at Harry with a worried and somber expression before lowering his head again, his fists clenched tightly, appearing particularly silent and repressed. Owen leaned lazily against the carriage wall, barely participating in the conversation; he wanted to eat dinner.

Harry was touched that his friends didn't blame him for putting them in danger, but this also made him feel even more guilty. He glanced at Neville, who seemed a little strange, opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately said nothing. He just took a deep breath, rallied his spirits, and discussed possible solutions with Hermione.

Soon the carriage began to descend and finally stopped in front of the gates of Hogwarts Castle.

Owen skillfully cast waterproof spells on everyone before stepping down from the carriage and following the crowd up the castle steps, through the majestic oak gates, and into the spacious and deep foyer. The doors to the right chapel were open, revealing candles floating on the enchanted ceiling.

"...Let's go inside the Great Hall first! Considering some students are injured, the Sorting Ceremony will begin later." Professor McGonagall's voice came from the front, urging the students to enter the Great Hall. Then she shouted over everyone's heads, "Shafik! Granger! I need to see you both! And Potter, you come here too!"

The three of them exchanged glances and squeezed towards Professor McGonagall.

"There's no need to be nervous." Professor McGonagall noticed that Harry and Hermione were a little nervous, and she said meticulously, "Shafik, Granger, I need to talk to you in my office."

She then looked at Harry: "Potter, Black just told me you weren't feeling well on the train. I think you need treatment; Madam Pomfrey is waiting for you inside..."

As they passed a room, Professor McGonagall pointed inside. Mrs. Pomfrey was bustling about inside; the young wizards injured on the train were being temporarily housed there.

Upon seeing Harry, Madam Pomfrey quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.

"I'm fine." Harry's face flushed again. "I don't need anything..."

Ms. Pomfrey examined him carefully, touching his forehead, muttering to herself, "Attack the train, how dare they! And those Dementors... who can guarantee they'll obey?"

Professor McGonagall nodded slightly and led Owen and Hermione up the marble staircase, down the corridor, and into her office.

The office was small, but the fire in the fireplace made it warm and cozy. Two raccoon cats sat obediently in front of the fireplace, tilting their heads and looking at them.

Owen's eyes lit up, he winked at them, and put Melete down from his arms. The three little cuties huddled together and started playing with the poor little fluffy.

Professor McGonagall gestured for the two to sit down, and then sat behind her desk herself. "I called you here to explain the time-twister to you."

Hermione glanced at Owen in surprise, only then realizing that Owen had also applied for the Time-Turner.

Professor McGonagall had barely finished speaking when there was a soft knock on the door. She called out, "Come in."

A strange wizard in a gray robe walked in, nodded to Professor McGonagall, then swept his wise and rational gray eyes across Owen and Hermione, giving them a gentle smile.

He looked to be in his fifties or sixties, with neatly styled gray curly hair. His skin was pale, and his thin face had few wrinkles. He stood ramrod straight, giving him an air of trustworthiness.

"You've come at the right time, Mr. White," Professor McGonagall said to him, then introduced him: "This is Mr. Adrian White, the current Director of the Department of Mysteries. He brought the Time-Turner here and wants to meet you."

Hermione gasped softly, straightened her back, and nervously and awkwardly raised her hand to comb her somewhat messy hair.

Owen glanced at the man, raising an eyebrow slightly. The Director of the Department of Mysteries, the head of the Ministry of Magic's most secret department, someone even other Ministry officials rarely saw... So he's really that bored?

Mr. White smiled and nodded, his deep eyes quietly observing Owen. He said slowly, "I just wanted to meet Hogwarts' model student. This is unprecedented, the first time two Time-Turners have been approved in the same year." His tone was soft and gentle, with a strange pause, as if he were reciting a wonderful poem.

He shifted his gaze from Owen's face, his eyes fixed blankly on the wall behind Professor McGonagall: "If you wish to join the Department of Mysteries after graduation, I would be more than happy to oblige. Ah, for centuries, we have collected countless mystical objects from all over the world, dedicated to exploring the secrets of magic..."

"Oh, sorry, I digress." He patted his forehead and pulled two long, thin gold chains from his pocket, from which hung two delicate, shimmering hourglasses. He placed them on the table in front of Owen and Hermione and said softly, "These are the Time-Turner."

Professor McGonagall looked at the two of them seriously: "Before handing them over to you, Mr. Shafik, Miss Granger, I need to emphasize the precautions to you again."

"First of all, absolutely do not use it for anything other than your studies. I will be watching how you use the time-tamper," she said. "If I find that you are misusing the time-tamper, then unfortunately, I will take it back."

Owen nodded somewhat absentmindedly, noticing that Mr. White was always glancing at him, whether intentionally or unintentionally.

Hermione responded excitedly, her fingers trembling slightly.

Professor McGonagall continued, "Using it is very simple; just spin the hourglass. Each spin will turn back time by one hour..."

"However, it is crucial to remember that you must never rewind time by more than five hours!" Professor McGonagall looked at them sternly. "Countless experiments have shown that anyone who has attempted to rewind time by more than five hours has ultimately suffered severe damage, most of which is irreversible."

"Don't think you can go back in time, change history, or erase the facts that make you uncomfortable. Remember, nothing will change; anything time travelers do only creates what they were already aware of before their journey."

Professor McGonagall paused, then continued, "Finally, be careful not to appear in front of your past self when using it. Because there are many examples of people in the past who have killed their future or past selves."

"Moreover, meeting your past self is something that can easily go against the laws of time," Mr. White added. "It's a very dangerous thing, not only endangering your life but also potentially causing catastrophic consequences."

Hermione suddenly raised her hand high, her voice hurried and nervous as she asked, "What if my past self accidentally sees this? I mean, accidentally..."

Mr. White nodded patiently and said, "Indeed, it is possible to encounter such a situation during time travel, especially for some careless travelers."

"We have studied many cases and come to a conclusion that is currently convincing: when you encounter your past self, immediately leave the other person's perception range and do not try to contact or talk to them. This will ensure your safety."

Hermione nodded quickly to indicate that she understood.

Professor McGonagall gestured for them to pick up their respective time-twisters, and then added, "Please keep this a secret from everyone else, okay?"

"Of course, Professor," Owen and Hermione said in unison.

"There's one more thing to note," Mr. White added, his tone seemingly meaningful. "Please remember to choose a safe place when using the Time-Turner. Don't assume you can use it to avoid danger. In fact, time magic is very unstable and easily interfered with by surrounding spells, leading to terrifying changes."

"For example?" Owen asked curiously.

"The time-twister might malfunction, or the time it rewinds might be shortened or lengthened—these are the best-case scenarios," Mr. White blinked slightly. "It could also malfunction completely, tearing you apart in the torrent of time, or sending you to an even more distant past..."

"It is precisely because of the many limitations in their use that time converters are mostly used for trivial matters, such as helping people better manage their time." He paused before continuing, "Oh, of course, Aurors occasionally apply to use them to solve certain important cases."

Owen nodded thoughtfully and politely thanked her. He put the Time-Turner in his pocket and left the office with Hermione.

Mr. White followed them out, giving them a kind smile: "It's a pleasure to see such outstanding young people as you."

He gave Irving another deep look, and said meaningfully, "This is the greatest support I can offer right now." After saying that, he nodded slightly to them again, and then walked away without looking back.

Irving watched silently as the other man's figure disappeared at the edge of the descending stairs, his eyes slowly narrowing. Mr. White's last words seemed to express support for the two outstanding students, but Irving inexplicably felt that they were spoken only to him.

It's like it's hinting at something...

Lost in his own thoughts, he found himself back in the Great Hall, sitting at the Slytherin table, just as Harry returned.

After waiting patiently for seven or eight minutes, Professor McGonagall, holding the greyish-white Sorting Hat, led a group of freshmen into the Great Hall.

(End of this chapter)