A certain broken Hogwarts

Every time Owen pondered this flight spell, he would marvel at Voldemort, the inventor of this magic, as a true genius.

Wizards typically fly using tools like flying brooms and flying carpets, rarely managing to fly on their own. This isn't because wizards can't create spells for flight, but rather because it's an inefficient and thankless task.

In fact, just like magical creatures, wizards' bodies also possess a considerable resistance to spells. The more powerful a wizard is, the stronger this resistance becomes. Therefore, most spells targeting wizards aim to unleash a powerful burst of energy in an instant, breaking through the wizard's body's resistance and allowing the spell to take effect.

This is why levitation and summoning spells are generally ineffective against wizards and magical creatures.

The principle behind the flight spell is to cast a spell on the wizard, allowing them to fly; it's analogous to a levitation spell that works on the wizard. This isn't difficult for a skilled wizard.

The problem is that flight isn't instantaneous; it's a continuous process. This means the wizard needs to maintain the "levitation spell" on their body without any relaxation. This is extremely energy-consuming. The caster must be fully focused and will quickly tire. A moment's inattention can easily lead to a mistake, causing them to fall from the sky.

Moreover, flight also requires flexibility, the ability to turn and avoid obstacles in time, and the ability to freely adjust altitude and speed... This involves more complex magical principles and is a test of the wizard's control ability.

All these factors combined mean that the flying spell is destined to be a profound and difficult-to-master magic, hard to control, lacking flexibility, and very energy-consuming, and cannot be sustained for very long.

Compared to the dangerous, tiring, and difficult-to-control flying spells, clever wizards chose to imbue various objects with flying charms, inventing flying brooms and other flying tools, making flight a simple and convenient affair. Thus, flying spells became obsolete, and few people ventured into this area.

Faced with this situation, Voldemort took a different approach. He used dark magic to transform himself into a form capable of flight, just as Animagus wizards, being avian, could fly with ease.

The black mist form was chosen because mist is light and agile, making it very easy to control. Its inherent levitation property means this form consumes very little energy, allows for extended flight, enables passage through narrow gaps, and even provides immunity to some physical attacks.

Because it's a transformation created by dark magic, this form is destined to look somewhat evil.

In fact, Irving was confident that he could create a corresponding white magic version based on this spell, and the transformed appearance would probably be much better looking, but that was unnecessary for him.

Owen understood that the black mist form wasn't necessary, but changing the form would involve every aspect of the spell and require a lot of extra time to improve, which was clearly not worth it.

Well, actually he really wanted to become light, but that's beyond his capabilities...

Owen shook his head, stopped overthinking, and carefully examined the details of the spell again. Then, he cautiously tried it again and again in the wall-facing space.

In any case, this curse is extremely profound and dangerous. The slightest mistake can lead to terrible consequences, causing damage that is difficult to heal for a lifetime.

After repeated practice, Irving, now fully confident, returned to reality, opened his somewhat vacant eyes, and looked at the soft light emanating from the lamp.

He was in his own secret base inside the House of Requirement, and the clock was pointing to 8:30 p.m.

Owen stretched his somewhat stiff limbs, stood up, and entered the adjacent spell practice room, firmly closing the particularly heavy black iron door behind him.

"Let's begin..." Owen pointed his wand at his brow, his eyes instantly becoming incredibly deep, like a dark, unfathomable pool.

He slightly opened his mouth and slowly uttered the distorted incantation, fueled by the malice surging within him.

A cool sensation flowed from the tip of the wand into the space between his eyebrows and slowly spread, like water mixed with ice shards being injected into his body, bringing a cold and sharp stinging sensation wherever it passed.

Owen continued chanting the incantation calmly, an ominous black mist filling his pupils. A chilling, stinging sensation spread through his body, quickly taking over his head and extending down his neck.

At the same time, an even more terrifying feeling swept over him. The head, invaded by the cold, felt like it was melting, as if it had turned into an ice sculpture under the scorching sun, making one involuntarily want to raise their hand to check if water was dripping from it.

His brain, overwhelmed by the terrifying melting sensation, was somewhat sluggish, and even the muscles in his cheeks seemed to stiffen. Owen, his expression unchanged, struggled to move his numb lips, chanting the incantation without the slightest pause.

He was intently focused on spreading that icy sensation to every part of his body. This step was crucial, requiring a detailed understanding of the body's structure; if he missed any part or organ, he would be able to see those fragmented parts with his own eyes after the transformation.

Time ticked by, and Owen finally managed to extend the spell to his fingertips. He lowered the wand from his brow, his face pale to the point of being almost transparent. He felt like a balloon filled with ice water, as if it would burst into a puddle at the slightest movement.

He pursed his lips, gathering his inner emotions, pointed his wand at his heart, and plunged it in hard. His chest suddenly dissipated into a dark, misty fog, swirling like the eye of a tornado.

Owen closed his eyes, using all his mental and physical strength to push the eye of the black mist to expand. At this point, there was no turning back; if he failed, his body would undergo a terrible mutation, and he might even die.

The vortex emanating from his chest grew larger and larger, gradually engulfing his entire torso, limbs, and head. Finally, he completely vanished, leaving only the vortex of black mist in his place, like a black hole.

Then, the vortex of black mist gradually slowed down, eventually returning to complete calm. The billowing black mist darted around the empty room, flying from one end to the other, like thick ink dripping into clear water.

Irving was experiencing the world with a strange sense of perception he had never had before. His body was as light as the wind, and he could fly effortlessly, as agile and free as a bird in the sky or a fish in the water; his eyes were no longer limited by perspective, and he could see the scenery in all directions; his sense of touch around him was hazy and illusory, indescribably wonderful.

Not long after, he recalled the feeling of being doused with cold water and imagined what he looked like. The black mist slowly gathered, gradually solidifying into a physical form.

Soon, Owen was standing firmly on the ground again, and the cold sensation had subsided. He carefully checked his surroundings to make sure nothing unusual had happened before letting out a soft sigh of relief.

This step does carry risks; there's a possibility it can never be reversed. Fortunately, Irving is already very skilled at it.

In the following time, he enthusiastically transformed again. With just a thought, his body suddenly dispersed, swiftly and naturally.

He manipulated his body to slip through the narrow crack in the door and into the next room, touching and feeling everything with great interest, his heart filled with a mixture of two completely different emotions: coldness and joy.

After playing for a while, he returned to his original room and tried to cast spells, but it was difficult to release magic in this state. He then tried to release the Dark Guardian, and an even colder and more ominous black mist separated from his body, condensing into a sinister shadow that swirled lightly around him.

Owen playfully chased and frolicked with the Dark Guardians in mid-air for a while, then tried to unleash the black flames he had inherited from the magic fusion experiment last semester. To his surprise, the surging black flames instantly engulfed his black mist body, making him appear as a cluster of flames.

"Hmm? It can be like this?" Owen was quite pleased with his current form. The black flame form looked much better than the black mist. Although it still didn't look like a good person, it was much more pleasing to the eye.

He returned to his physical form, his eyes half-closed in contentment, like a well-fed cat. He hadn't expected the black flames to bring him such a pleasant surprise.

He leaned lazily against the wall, his eyes downcast as he watched a tiny flame burning on his fingertips. Dark Guardians fluttered lightly around him, occasionally brushing the tip of their cloaks against his hair, making him feel a little ticklish.

For the next while, Owen returned to the meditation space and recorded all the details he had just witnessed. Then, he sat there listlessly for a while, before pulling out a notebook from beside the table and beginning to read.

The parchment piled on the table was slightly disheveled from his rummaging, revealing beautiful handwriting on it. On the top sheet, written in bold, neat characters, were the words: "An Improvement of the Thunder Explosion Spell."

The handwriting below is somewhat casual: The Explosive Charm can blast anything it touches, and can even trigger a chain of explosions, making it quite destructive. This improvement addresses its inability to penetrate the Armored Charm's defenses, aiming to make it also effective against the defenses themselves, causing the defensive barrier to explode as well…

The rest of the text was covered by Tom's old diary.

The second sheet of paper only revealed a title: Research on the Soul-Shattering Curse.

The third sheet had a slightly hastily written title: Apparition. Following that were several bolded headings: Research on the Apparition of the Sprite and the Phoenix's Teleportation; Anti-Apparition and Anti-Apparition Charm; Apparition Tracking Charm…

The last sheet of paper contained Owen's research on the Ironclad Charm. The main focus was on the "passive defensive version of Armor Protection," surrounded by dense scribbles and corrections. The words "Soul version of Armor Protection" were circled in red, crossed out, and accompanied by the small note: No progress yet.

On the other side of this stack of parchment, there was a separate piece of paper, with the words "The Possibility of Capturing Souls with the Dark Guardian" prominently displayed at the top.

This was an idea that Owen had last semester. Back then, he used the Dark Guardian to imprison Tom Riddle from the diary inside his body, thus deceiving Voldemort in the crown and putting on a good show for him.

However, the Dark Guardians can only capture weaker souls like Little Tom, and have no way to deal with Voldemort, who is currently floating in the Albanian Black Forest.

Owen wondered if he could enhance the Dark Guard's imprisoning abilities so that if Voldemort tried to possess him again, he could seize the opportunity to capture Voldemort. Ideally, he would also prepare a container to stuff the demon inside...

Yes, that would bring peace to the world.

Well, Grindelwald is still causing trouble; things won't be peaceful here...

Owen yawned, feeling a bit sleepy. He snapped his notebook shut; it was a record of notes Harry had made last semester after glimpsing a fragment of Voldemort's memories. Although most of the knowledge within was incomplete, there were quite a few ideas that could inspire him.

As for the notebook that Dumbledore gave to Harry, although the knowledge in it was more comprehensive and systematic, it was tailor-made for Harry after all, and most of the spells involved were not useful to Owen. Therefore, it was not as helpful to him as the notebook he had.

Irving put his notebook back in its place, tidied up the desk, and then returned to reality, picking up his backpack and leaving the Room of Requirement.

The corridor outside was dark and quiet, instilling a sense of loneliness in the night. Owen missed Melete's soft, warm fur and couldn't wait to go back and cuddle the cat by the fire.

Just as he was about to leave the corridor, he heard footsteps behind him. Owen turned around and saw Harry walking out of the wall where the Room of Requirement was located, raising his wand alertly at him.

"Owen?" Harry looked closely in the dim light, then breathed a sigh of relief and put down his wand. The fleeting glimpse of Owen had reminded him of horror movies he'd seen on TV before—vampires in dark castles that drank human blood—making his heart pound.

But looking at Owen's pale yet delicate face, half-lit and half-shadowed in the candlelight, Harry inexplicably felt that the scene was quite eerie, yet also had a touch of allure.

As Harry was lost in thought, Owen tilted his head, a slight smile playing on his lips, adding a touch of danger and allure to his handsome face. He said in a voice so light it was almost a whisper, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to practice spells," Harry said, hurrying over. "I wanted to come with you, but I haven't seen you since your afternoon spells class..."

The two turned the corner of the corridor together, and Owen caught a glimpse of an orange-furred cat slowly walking into the darkness.

"I've noticed there are a lot more cats and raccoons in the castle lately," Harry said seriously, following Owen's gaze.

Owen didn't want to talk to him. Running around the castle in the middle of the night was just adding to the cats' workload.

"Speaking of which, how exactly do you practice the Patronus Charm?" Harry muttered to himself. "I've discovered that summoning the Patronus in normal times is completely different from summoning it in front of Dementors. But I can't exactly go to the school gates and practice the Patronus Charm on the Dementors guarding there, can I?"

"You can give it a try," Owen joked, a sly smile playing on his lips. "As long as you're not afraid of being seen as a provocation... ah, if they're in the mood, they might even give you a kiss."

Harry, imagining what Dementors looked like, vomited and said, "Stop talking!"

"If all else fails, you can find a Boggart," Owen said casually, turning his head slightly to hear Peeves's shrill laughter coming from afar.

"Where am I supposed to find Boggart...?" Harry frowned and thought for a moment, deciding to ask Sirius tomorrow if he had any ideas.

They took a shortcut to the first floor and were about to enter the underground city when a series of hurried footsteps came from the lobby, followed by Sirius Black walking quickly over from there.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" Sirius Black's clothes and hair were disheveled, his shoes and trousers were covered in mud and grass, he was carrying a wand, and his brow was furrowed. When he saw Harry, he raised his eyebrows, and his eyes gleamed in the darkness.

"Uh, I'm going to practice spells... with Owen." Harry sounded a little guilty, his voice trailing off. He remembered Sirius and the professors telling him not to leave the common room at night, but he always wanted to make the most of his time and improve as much as possible.

Irving glanced at him sideways, but graciously refrained from exposing his lie.

Sirius nodded his chin in a friendly gesture towards Owen, his expression relaxing slightly, but only slightly. He knew Owen was a reliable young wizard, but after all, he was still a minor student.

"You absolutely mustn't wander off during this time. I just spotted Peter Pettigrew," he said with a grim face.

"You went to catch him?" Harry raised an eyebrow. Seeing Sirius's disheveled appearance, how could he not understand what had happened?

Sirius nodded haphazardly, gritting his teeth as he said, "He got away. Turning into a mouse and burrowing into holes is his specialty."

"He escaped from Hogwarts?" Owen asked with interest.

"No. He went into the Forbidden Forest, beyond the area marked on the map." Sirius lazily raised his left hand, a piece of parchment clutched between his fingers—a new Marauder's Map he'd made during the summer. "The Forbidden Forest is too vast..."

Irving nodded; his Marauder's Map only covered a small part of the Forbidden Forest.

"How did Peter Pettigrew get in? Was he alone?" Harry pressed.

Sirius's lips twitched slightly: "He was the only one who entered Hogwarts through a secret passage. I knew all the secret passages he knew, but I didn't block them beforehand. Instead, I cast a spell on each one so that I would know if someone passed through it... but he still managed to escape."

"Then all we need to do is block those secret passages, and he won't be able to escape!" Harry said excitedly.

"That's what I'm going to do, but don't get your hopes up too high. Although Hogwarts forbids Apparition, as long as he dares to make an illegal Portkey and isn't afraid of losing his life for it, getting in and out of Hogwarts won't be too difficult..." Sirius looked at the night outside somewhat absentmindedly.

Shadows, darker than the night itself, darted through the gloomy jungle as the Dementors searched the Forbidden Forest.

"Alright, go back now," he said sternly.

Owen and Harry exchanged a glance, then descended the stairs into the cold, damp dungeon. (End of Chapter)