A certain broken Hogwarts

The next morning, a light mist made the sunlight seem somewhat chilly and dim. Since the beginning of October, the weather had become increasingly cold, and the air was always filled with damp moisture.

The hall was filled with the buzzing of students' conversations. Young wizards enjoyed their breakfast, whispering and laughing with their companions, adding to the youthful energy of the place. Owls flapped their wings and flew in and out of the open windows, dropping letters and packages around people, their tiny feathers floating in the air beneath the ceiling.

Irving listlessly added a spoonful of sugar to his oatmeal, slowly sipped it while holding the bowl with both hands, and longed for his warm, cozy bed. He felt that the time converter easily fostered laziness in people; for example, he now had to exert a great deal of effort to suppress the urge to go back in time and take a nap.

A greyish-brown owl landed beside him, tossed him a thick green envelope, nudged his hand affectionately with its fluffy head, and hopped happily around his desk as if performing a comical courtship dance.

Irving looked at the strange owl's perplexing behavior with a mixture of confusion and amusement, then opened the envelope and glanced at the signature: Kurt Garnier.

Well, this guy's owl is just like his owner.

Owen casually unfolded the thick stack of parchment in the envelope, covered with not-so-beautiful but very neat and earnest handwriting.

Kurt expressed his heartfelt greetings and remembrance of Irving in a fervent and devout tone, and wrote down in great detail his main experiences and observations at the bookstore.

He wrote about what he usually did, the situation of Natasha and Lupin, the bookstore restocking, Lupin taking leave on the night of the full moon last month, Natasha sometimes secretly drinking a little wine... and finally he described in detail some strange customers in the bookstore.

Irving skimmed through the last few lines and finally found the part that wasn't nonsense. Kurt told him that he had run into an acquaintance yesterday, who must have been one of the survivors who had escaped the battle at the church that day.

"...Yesterday evening he went into the bookstore and pretended to browse through books. I caught a glimpse of half his face hidden under his hood. It was the same face I had seen when I was imprisoned in the church. I've always been very sensitive to facial contours and features, and that guy had a barely noticeable mole on the corner of his mouth."

"I pretended not to recognize him, and after he left, Natasha told me that the man had been loitering around the bookstore for the past few days."

"Miss Natasha has a very keen sense of smell. She said that person has been loitering around in different places these days, wearing different clothes, but none of that has escaped her nose. I think that person is probably spying on us..."

Kurt asked if there was anything he needed to do, indicating that he would follow Irving's instructions completely, but his slightly flamboyant handwriting still reflected his inner eagerness.

"Have the Exiles reappeared?" Owen tapped his fingers lightly on the table. "Are they monitoring the bookstore, or are they fishing?"

He pondered for a moment, then took out a piece of parchment and wrote in neat, beautiful handwriting: "Do not act rashly, Kurt. Do not alert the enemy before you have figured out their true intentions."

"Remember to remind Natasha and the others to be vigilant, and to abandon the bookstore if necessary. Kurt, you can try to determine their purpose first. If they are really just spying, I allow you to take appropriate action and try to find out the organization's location and movements. But always prioritize your own safety, stay hidden, and be prepared to abandon the operation if necessary..."

Irving thought for a moment, then added a few more sentences to respond to Kurt's greeting and subtly reminded him that he didn't need to write so much nonsense next time.

He folded the parchment, put it in the envelope, and handed it to the cheerful owl.

The owl cuddled with him for a while longer before flapping its wings and flying away.

Irving continued drinking his oatmeal, craving fried dough sticks and tofu pudding, when he was interrupted by another owl.

He read the letter from Natasha, the parchment bearing her familiar, ugly handwriting. He'd never really understood why, despite practicing her handwriting for so long, Natasha could still produce such a distinctively ugly style.

"Could Lupin have been slacking off while urging her to practice calligraphy?" Owen muttered to himself before glancing at the contents of the letter.

In her letter, Natasha first talked about the monitor, and then spent the rest of her time complaining about Kurt.

"...He's like a little old man all day, so lifeless. He's usually reliable, but all he ever thinks about is learning dark magic, saying he wants to follow in your footsteps and learn the spells you've mastered... Every time I talk to him about it, he's incredibly obedient, but the moment he turns his head, he ignores me completely. Where did you pick up this silly boy from?"

Irving coughed lightly, amused, but thinking about Kurt's actions, he still had a feeling that he had set a bad example for the children...

He pressed a hand to his lips, deep in thought, then picked up a pen and wrote a reply. He first explained the matter of the monitor, then suggested that Kurt temporarily study with Lupin, hoping it would prevent him from going astray. As for studying with Natasha, he forbade it, fearing Kurt would become stupid.

After handing the letter to the owl, Owen continued drinking his porridge. Just then, another owl flew towards him. Under Owen's wide-eyed gaze, the small owl timidly dropped a parchment envelope in front of Harry beside him, then hurriedly flew away.

Owen added another half spoonful of sugar to his cereal with satisfaction, while Harry stared suspiciously at the letter in front of him.

"Who would deliver a letter to me at this hour?" Harry squinted, his gaze deep as he looked at the address written on the envelope in a handwriting he didn't recognize: "Hogwarts, Harry Potter."

He hesitated for a moment, then his paranoia kicked in. He carefully poked the bulging envelope with the spoon in his hand, and said to Owen with a serious face, "I think... there's a conspiracy."

"I think you're overthinking it. It's just a letter," Draco said with a hint of disdain. He glanced at the letter, wiggled his fingers, but ultimately didn't dare to pick it up.

Owen scrutinized Harry for a moment, his dark eyes filled with undisguised surprise. This Harry really wasn't reckless anymore.

He shifted his gaze to the envelope, nodded in agreement, and said in a teachable tone, "Don't touch things of unknown origin. That's common sense, because it might be a key that will send you to danger, or it might contain a deadly curse..."

He casually remarked, "I've encountered something like that before, and more than once."

"So you're still alive?" Harry looked at him in astonishment, as if he were witnessing some kind of miracle of life.

"Once we take out all the enemies, this dangerous place won't be dangerous anymore," Owen said with a half-smile, the corners of his mouth curving up with a casual, mocking tone.

"Oh, you're great." Harry's lips twitched slightly as he gave a perfunctory reply. He knew Owen was spouting nonsense again.

He refocused his attention on the letter; with a madwoman determined to kill him, he couldn't afford to be careless. He picked up a spoon again and awkwardly used the handle to pry open the wax seal on the envelope.

Owen chewed on his fried egg and said slightly indistinctly, "But this letter was delivered by an owl, and it's difficult for a messenger to accurately estimate when it will reach you, so it's probably not a door key..."

He watched as Harry finally broke the red wax seal, his gaze suddenly sharpening as he sensed an aura of dark magic emanating from it. Having immersed himself in the realm of dark magic for so long, he was adept at concealing his own dark magical aura, and equally sensitive to it.

"Stop!" Owen said sternly. His wand appeared in his hand instantly.

Harry paused, then saw the envelope in front of him begin to expand rapidly, like a balloon being blown up with great force.

"Disappear." Owen waved his wand and used the Vanishing Charm without hesitation. The trembling, swollen letter vanished as if erased from thin air.

Upon witnessing this, Draco abruptly stood up from his seat, moved to a more distant spot, and glanced over with a startled look, his gray eyes darting around. Crabbe and Goyle were so surprised that they dropped their pies.

Daphne and her sister stared at Harry with wide, bright blue eyes, looking like two ruffled ragdoll cats. Only Blaise was busy fixing his gadgets and didn't notice what was happening.

Harry blinked, stunned, and the spoon in his hand clattered onto the table. He covered his face and groaned, "Is there really a problem?"

That's it, he felt his paranoia was incurable.

"Hmm, it probably contains some kind of dark magic curse." Owen had a faint smile on his face, looking bright yet dangerous. He said lazily to Harry, "Your caution saved you from disaster, Harry. Good, keep it up."

Harry's eyes were twitching. He felt like he couldn't go on living like this anymore.

"What's going on, Harry?" Sirius's voice came from afar. He was squeezing his way over, with Professor Snape following reluctantly at a distance, staring at Sirius's back with a look of utter disgust, as if he wanted to pull out his wand and cast the Unforgivable Curse on him at any moment.

Harry lowered his hand from his face and said expressionlessly, "I just received a cursed letter..." He listlessly recounted what had just happened.

"Bellatrix! Peter Pettigrew! They deserve to die!" Sirius slammed his fist on the table and growled hoarsely.

"You know you can't just touch things delivered from outside the school. Looks like you're a little smarter than a troll." Snape's smooth voice drifted over from afar. He stood seven or eight feet away from Sirius with a look of disgust, as if Sirius were surrounded by invisible germs.

Harry forced a smile; he knew this was already a great compliment from Professor Snape. According to the Headmaster's usual assessment, all the students oscillated between being brainless and having troll-like brains.

Sirius didn't even glance at Snape, completely ignoring him. Snape turned and walked away with a grim face, his billowing black robes making him look like a giant black bat.

Sirius Black frowned and cautioned, "Don't get separated from me lately, Harry. The Dementors searched the Forbidden Forest all night but couldn't find Peter Pettigrew..."

"I think he won't dare show his face near the castle again, right?" Harry lowered his voice. "Don't you have that map?"

“I can’t keep an eye on that map all the time, Harry.” Sirius’s brow furrowed even more, a deep furrow appearing between his eyebrows. “Besides, when I went to hunt down Peter Pettigrew last night, he already noticed the existence of the Marauder’s Map, so he’ll definitely be on guard from now on.”

"When the target is on guard, the Marauder's Map isn't actually that hard to crack. You just need to cast a simple anti-tracking spell on yourself..." He shook his head, looking troubled.

Irving, who was listening in, nodded. The Marauder's Map can be very useful in certain situations because normally no one is on guard against it, and no one is going to waste time casting anti-tracking spells on themselves. Once the enemy is prepared, the Marauder's Map becomes largely useless.

"So... he could very well have sneaked into my room while I was asleep!" Harry said, his voice strained. The feeling of not knowing when danger might strike filled him with both anger and helplessness.

"Yes, yes..." Sirius said, "but there's no need to worry too much. We're discussing solutions. Actually, if Dementors weren't so insensitive to animals like rats, we'd be considering having them guard the castle gates."

"Oh, by the way, Peter Pettigrew is really good at drilling holes..." He shrugged, waved, and walked away.

Harry sighed heavily and said to Owen in a low voice, seemingly lost in thought, "I think maybe I should just wear the Invisibility Cloak and sleep in the Room of Requirement from now on."

Owen raised his eyebrows, gave a thumbs-up, and said, "You're a real little devil, Harry."

The sun outside grew brighter and brighter, and Harry was surrounded by a group of people asking him all sorts of questions. Owen slowly picked up a napkin and wiped his lips, while pondering Peter Pettigrew's behavior.

Infiltrating Hogwarts alone to assassinate Harry is not something Peter Pettigrew would do; it doesn't fit his usual cowardly and suicidal nature. Although he's capable of anything when he's angry, it's still very unusual for him to go solo into enemy territory at this moment. He doesn't seem to have any strong desire to avenge the Dark Lord.

"Was he threatened by Bellatrix? But won't he run away?" Owen suddenly smirked. "Could he be being controlled? Those two definitely aren't on the same page..."

It's hard to imagine how Bellatrix and Peter Pettigrew would get along. Rather than imagining them forming a harmonious team and working together seamlessly, it's more like fantasizing that Voldemort would decide to debut as an idol.

"It was absolutely the wise thing to cast the Forgetfulness Charm on Peter Pettigrew last semester," Owen couldn't help but remark. Before handing Peter Pettigrew over to Grindelwald, Owen had made him forget everything he had done to him.

Wormtail now only remembers entering Hogwarts last year on the Dark Lord's orders to find the Philosopher's Stone and to deal with Harry Potter. Later, he disguised himself as Lockhart to continue assisting the Dark Lord until Harry ruined the Dark Lord's plans, and he was exposed and arrested.

In the other person's memory, Owen was just a smart and studious little wizard, at most Harry's friend, and didn't leave much of an impression.

With that thought in mind, Owen picked up his bag, got up, and went to class.

For Kyrie Irving, a day now feels exceptionally long. He treats each day like two, and his biological clock has become very different from others.

After the last class on protecting magical creatures in the afternoon, he yawned and wandered towards the castle as if sleepwalking, eager to go back in time to the Room of Requirement to sleep.

Harry lingered behind, then said to Hagrid, who was carefully settling the group of prickly people, "Hagrid, I need to see Nagini."

"It's in the Forbidden Forest!" Hagrid shouted. "No! You have to get back to the castle right now!"

"It'll be quick, I need to tell it something," Harry said hastily. "I'll call it at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, it'll be here soon..."

"Go back! Go back..." Hagrid waved his large, fan-like hand, shooing him away like flies, making Harry worry that his small body would be flattened by a slap.

"Hagrid, I need to tell it about Peter Pettigrew!" Harry finally blurted out. "It doesn't know Peter Pettigrew turned into a mouse. If I can tell Nagini this, maybe it can help me find him!"

"I'll go tell them!" Hagrid's black beetle-like eyes widened.

"Do you speak Parsley?" Harry crossed his arms.

Hagrid froze, his mouth agape beneath his messy black beard, as if he had been turned into a stone sculpture in an instant.

"Okay, okay..." he mumbled indistinctly at the end, "but you have to stay with me the whole time, understand?"

"Of course, I won't be reckless," Harry grinned.

He helped Hagrid get the group of spiky creatures into their den, a little uneasy in his mind. Wasn't he supposed to teach them about furry magical creatures? Spiky creatures, while cute, weren't exactly furry, were they? Or was this what Hagrid's understanding of furry creatures was?

After settling the thorny boy down, the two headed towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. As they passed the hut, Hagrid whistled, and a cheerful barking followed. His large hunting dog, Tooth, came running over, circled Hagrid once, and then pounced on Harry, licking his face.

"Okay, Tooth..." Harry laughed because it tickled him, and it took him a while to push it off him.

Two figures, one tall and one short, continued walking towards the Forbidden Forest, with Ya Ya running around at their feet.

In the increasingly dim afternoon light, the boundless Forbidden Forest appeared even darker, like a colossal, dark, and ancient beast opening its gaping maw at them, making Hagrid's enormous size seem incredibly small in comparison.

The two stood at the edge of the woods, Hagrid looking around anxiously, clutching his tattered pink umbrella tightly. Toothpick sat imposingly beside Hagrid, but Harry knew the fellow was a coward.

Harry felt the pact he had made with Nagini and called to it with a hissing sound.

Sensing that Nagini was a bit far away, he stroked Tooth's big head and started chatting casually with Hagrid.

The sun hung low on the horizon, and from afar, Hogwarts Castle resembled a towering tree. (End of Chapter)