A certain broken Hogwarts

The first Quidditch match of the school year began: Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Even in the midst of a storm, the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder.

Thunder rumbled through the dark, heavy clouds, and howling winds whipped branches from the distant forbidden forest into the sky. Cold raindrops gathered into a thick curtain of rain, pounding heavily on people and raising a hazy, gray fog in the air.

But this did not dampen the enthusiasm of the entire school's teachers and students. They huddled together, shivering under their soaked cloaks and torn umbrellas, cheering and applauding the blurry figures darting across the Quidditch pitch. Even though they could barely see the game clearly and could only glean a glimpse of the situation from the commentator's fragmented words.

"So... what's the point of coming to this game?" Owen stood listlessly among the crowd in the stands, thinking to himself. If he hadn't promised to come and cheer for Harry and Draco, he would never have left the castle in this weather.

He held a black umbrella steadily in one hand, the enchanted umbrella keeping out the gale and torrential rain, leaving him a small patch of peace. With his other arm, he held the reluctant Melett, and in the spirit of sharing joys and sorrows, Owen lifted the cat from the warm bed.

Melete glared at Owen's smug face with her sharp golden eyes, scratching at his chest with her little paws and kicking the poor little fluffy bird with her hind legs. Well, she couldn't be the only one suffering; someone had to share the hardship. If she could beat Nyx, she would definitely bring that stinky bird over no matter what.

Owen looked up as red and green shadows flew back and forth under the dark clouds like struggling birds. Harry's figure hovered at the highest point, riding a fire crossbow, he seemed to have transformed into lightning in the clouds, appearing and disappearing swiftly and nimbly in the high sky.

"Won't they get struck by lightning?" This was the thought that lingered in Owen's mind amidst the cheers and boos of Slytherin scoring.

The sky grew increasingly dark without anyone noticing, as if night had fallen prematurely. When a zigzag bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, hundreds of Dementors tore through the rain and entered the stadium, raising their faces hidden beneath their hoods. The sudden chill that swept over them silenced the young wizards in the stands, as if they had been choked.

Everyone stood silently, their faces pale, creating an eerie silence amidst the howling storm.

Harry, who was speeding through the air, came to a stop, seemingly about to fall. But then, a silver-white stag leaped down from the sky, its forked antlers raised, and bravely charged at the Dementors on the ground.

The silvery-white light was warm and not dazzling, encouraging more people to muster their courage. A silvery-white peacock flapped its magnificent wings and flew down from the sky after them. Draco stopped there, smugly waving his wand at Harry, and then suddenly kicked one of the Weasley twins hard in the backside.

"Protect the Gods!"

In the stands, Daphne resolutely pointed her wand to the sky, her azure eyes gleaming. Her swan patron burst forth from her wand, flying alongside Blaise and Pansy's patrons towards the pitch. A similar light rose from the Gryffindor stands, and Hermione and Neville mirrored the action.

A series of lithe, radiant silver-white figures fearlessly rushed towards the horde of dark Dementors, like blazing bonfires in the cold night, dispelling the chill and bringing warmth and hope. At that moment, even the damp, torrential rain seemed to soften.

The Dementors scattered in a chaotic frenzy, fleeing in all directions as the Guardians pursued them, quickly disappearing into the misty rain.

After a brief silence, a tidal wave of applause and cheers erupted, this time for the members of the study group.

Owen stood quietly in the shadows under the umbrella, his figure blending harmoniously with the shadows, standing out from the crowd around him. He tilted his head slightly upward, watching the clear rays of light gradually dissipate into the air, his dark eyes seemingly reflecting the faint afterglow.

When the game resumed with Ms. Hodge's whistle, Owen lowered his eyes, gently pursed his pale lips, and murmured with a smile, "They really gave us a big show."

"Meow—" Melete raised a front paw and patted his cheek very lightly.

"...Harry Potter has caught the Golden Snitch! The match is over!" The commentator's voice came with the whistle, announcing the Slytherin team's victory.

The common room was filled with damp steam as a large group of people filed in, but no one cared. Everyone was celebrating the victory and excitedly discussing the guardians they had seen that day.

The deep green lake outside the window shielded the viewer from the thunder and storm noises. The table was laden with all sorts of snacks and drinks, and the celebration lasted for a long time.

The common room returned to calm as night fell. Owen lazily curled up in his armchair, his mind wandering to the Apparition Tracking Charm in the enclosed space.

In fact, there are many types of spells that can be called Apparition Tracking Charms.

The simplest method is to leave a mark on the target, which can then be used to track them with a corresponding tracking spell. However, this method is unreliable. For a sufficiently powerful or cautious wizard, leaving a mark on someone is very difficult, and even if a mark is successfully left, it can be easily erased.

Looking back now, when Natasha was being relentlessly hunted by some dark wizarding organization whose name she can no longer recall, she must have been marked by this kind of curse. It's just that Owen was a naive and inexperienced newcomer back then, and he too failed to realize the problem.

"It's only good for bullying weaker guys like Ma Da Na," Irving commented. "It's not very practical."

Another type is similar to the principle of apparition. An invisible connection is established with the target using some kind of spell, so that when the target apparites, it will bring the pursuer with it to the destination.

However, this method also has significant drawbacks. On the one hand, it is not easy to hit the target. On the other hand, if the target notices this connection and is experienced in apparition, they may sever the connection or even use it to put the pursuer in danger of being split apart.

Considering that most of the people he needed to deal with using the Apparition Tracking Charm were not easy to mess with, Owen ruled out this type.

In addition, there is a more advanced Apparition Tracking Charm that allows the tracker to follow directly through the Apparition's path, much like a hunter tracking the footprints of his prey in the wilderness.

Owen was inclined toward this type, but the problem was that this kind of spell was very complex and rare. Perhaps some ancient wizarding families and wizarding organizations might have such a secret heritage, but unfortunately he couldn't find it.

He searched through the Hogwarts library and Ravenclaw's Chamber of Secrets, and combined this with the Shafiq family's collection of books and Grindelwald's answers, but only found some brief records.

After understanding the relevant principles, he determined that this kind of spell could not be created in a short time. But there were other ways.

After consulting with Mr. Grindelwald, Owen understood one thing: a sufficiently skilled wizard with profound expertise in Apparition can, after targeted study and training, discern the trajectory of Apparition or Portkeys on his own.

In other words, they can track their targets by following the traces left in space, making it extremely difficult to escape from under their noses. Of course, this is not without its limitations; they must witness the target shifting and changing shape before them to discern and capture that fleeting, correct trajectory.

Owen has been working towards this goal for some time now, spending every spare moment training Nyx, having her teleport in front of him repeatedly, trying to grasp that inexplicable connection. However, there hasn't been much progress so far, and Nyx has become quite afraid of him. Lately, she avoids Owen whenever she sees him, and she's even less enthusiastic about starting fires and causing trouble.

After pondering the Apparition Tracking Charm for a while in the wall-facing space, Owen frowned and temporarily set it aside, continuing to study the advancements of the Vengeful Shadow.

Faced with a variety of bizarre and unpredictable black magic curses, Owen was captivated by their wondrous and ever-changing nature, yet also deeply fearful. The only reliable way to ward off these insidious curses was to address the soul.

In improving soul spells, Owen's approach has always been to combine the principles of spells related to the "soul" with the power of emotions to enable a spell to interfere with the realm of the soul. Therefore, the soul spells he improved would inevitably be black magic.

However, since Vengeance is a dark curse, this approach won't work. Moreover, it combines defense and offense, capable of both blocking the invasion of curses and turning back on the one who cast them. It is a complex and profound spell, and further improvement would be quite difficult.

Fortunately, Owen quickly found inspiration. Vengeance of the Wraith is somewhat similar to the Dark Guardian, and the two spells can even establish a certain connection, so why not use the Dark Guardian to strengthen it?

The core of the Vengeful Shadow's Revenge is the "Vengeful Shadow" with defensive and counter-offensive capabilities. If the Dark Guardian replaces this "Vengeful Shadow," the strategy becomes much simpler. After all, the Dark Guardian has already penetrated deep into the realm of the soul.

Having found the right direction, progress went very smoothly. Owen had long been adept at refining spells, and in the past few days he had essentially perfected the spell; all that remained was to fill in the gaps through repeated experiments.

He went to the area where he practiced spells, and calmly and attentively recited the improved spells to himself over and over again, eliminating several minor flaws that were theoretically difficult to detect.

After the final experiment, Irving finally smiled, a relaxed and cheerful expression spreading across his face. The spell had been successfully improved.

With a thought, a sinister black mist condensed and took shape beside him. His tall top hat, long cloak, and the upturned corners of his mouth beneath the black mist seemed unchanged.

Owen reached out and patted the Black Mage's top hat, sensing it carefully. He felt that the guy had become stronger, with an added ability to protect and isolate, and his curses had also become much stronger.

"This defense seems to be soul-based?" Owen raised an eyebrow, a fleeting look of delight on his face, but his expression quickly fell. "No, it targets the curse and the soul itself; it's not enough to defend against the Unforgivable Curse..."

Being able to defend against fist and foot attacks does not mean you can defend against swords and guns.

"But that's one possibility..." After his initial excitement faded, Owen stroked his chin and continued to ponder the profound question. The Black Mage guards circled him silently, gently rolling up his trouser leg with the hem of their robes.

"Wait, this defensive capability doesn't seem to be limited to external attacks?" Owen suddenly realized something, a strange expression on his face. "What if it's for internal attacks..."

His eyes suddenly lit up, like two bright, shining obsidian stones. He enthusiastically began experimenting and finally obtained an answer that surprised him.

"Internal defense is a solid cage, which means that the Black Magic Guard's ability to imprison souls has been greatly enhanced!" Owen returned to his desk, pulled out a sheet from a thick stack of parchment, on which was written a striking title in beautiful cursive script: The Possibility of Capturing Souls with the Black Magic Guard.

"I didn't expect to solve this problem by accident." Owen smiled with satisfaction, his expression showing a cunning and playful eagerness. "If Voldemort dares to possess me again, he'll know what it means to walk right into a trap."

"If this defensive ability could be fixed onto alchemical objects, wouldn't it be possible to create an artifact that could imprison a soul?" He jotted down his thoughts in a few strokes, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

He turned his head to look at the Black Demon Guards who were gracefully dancing in mid-air, his eyes slightly misty as he smiled. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed one side of the cloak, treating it as a special and charming dance partner, and began to dance a beautiful and cheerful ballroom dance for his own amusement.

The snow-white rabbit twitched its ears slightly, and the little white nightmare floated unconsciously. The space filled with white mist was eternally tranquil and peaceful.

……

After leaving the confinement space, Owen returned to his empty dorm room, recited a modified version of the Vengeful Shadow Spell to himself, and then lay on the bed, hugging Melete, and dozed off for a while.

After completing a major project, he always wanted to take a break, but his regular biological clock relentlessly reminded him that it was not time to sleep.

Owen, increasingly awake as he slept, reluctantly got out of bed, glanced around the dormitory where he was all alone, and skillfully pulled out the time converter from his collar and began to turn it.

Time rewinds rapidly, and he effortlessly slips away from the common room, intending to go to the Room of Requirement to "have a heart-to-heart" with Peter Pettigrew, or perhaps take a nap.

But he soon regretted making that decision.

"What a coincidence, Owen, you're here too!" Harry's energetic voice came from the side in front of the Room of Requirement.

"Why are you here?" Owen asked helplessly as Harry ripped off his Invisibility Cloak and waved cheerfully at him.

"Lessons ended early tonight, and I just came out of the headmaster's office. I was planning to come here to practice spells." Harry grinned so wide his eyes almost disappeared, like a goofy Shiba Inu. "I didn't expect to run into you like this. Let's practice together, okay?"

Not good at all, troublesome. Owen, his eyelids drooping, looked at the happy and innocent little wizard in front of him, his expression unusually troubled.

Since Halloween, Harry has often "bumped into" him when he goes to the Room of Requirement, and Harry has been trying to study and train with him, making Owen fully understand what it means to be persistent.

Owen was puzzled. He had been avoiding Harry, and even changed the time and route he took to the Room of Requirement every day. Why was it that Harry always managed to bump into him in various places with perfect accuracy?

He had already checked his Marauder's Map; Harry hadn't been staking out the Requirement House for an extended period, nor had he been following him. He also always carried an anti-tracking badge; Harry couldn't possibly have found him using Sirius's Marauder's Map…

"Why do you always manage to find me?" Owen finally couldn't help but ask.

"Huh?" Harry looked at him blankly. "Don't you just find it as you walk around? Sometimes it really is just a coincidence."

Looking into the other man's clear, yet naive eyes, Irving had to admit that the guy wasn't lying. So, this whole thing was pretty fantastical.

"Owen, what will it take for you to say yes?" Harry suddenly said, looking dejected.

"Why do you insist on coming with me?" Owen crossed his arms and tilted his head.

"We can spar with each other... and I also want to learn more about Dark Magic from you, and how to deal with it..." Harry's eyes darted around. He didn't want to admit that he was worried about Owen and wanted to spend more time with him.

Seeing Harry affected by the mind-reading spell, Owen twirled his wand rapidly, trying to keep a straight face as he asked, "So what can you offer in exchange?"

"Huh?" Harry stared at him, speechless. After a moment of confusion, he suddenly closed his eyes tightly, adopting a desperate look, and said, "I can help you take care of the herbs in Herbology class, fill out the charts for you in Astronomy class, and process the herbs for you in Potions class..."

He slightly opened his eyes and glanced at Owen, who looked speechless and on the verge of tears: "If all else fails, I can do your homework for you..."

"No need." Irving slapped his forehead and sighed with a headache. "You should know that I'm not a suitable sparring partner."

"I know you're great." Harry's emerald green eyes dimmed. "I'll hold you back..."

"More than that, you should be worried about me accidentally killing you," Owen said with a slight smirk.

In the dim light, his pale and exquisite face was half-lit and half-shadowed, like a beautiful yet eerie sculpture.

"Don't underestimate me," Harry said without hesitation, then added sheepishly, "We don't have to use those dangerous spells, do we?"

Irving stared at him intently for a moment, then paced back and forth in front of the Room of Requirement three times before pushing open the door that had appeared out of nowhere. He turned to the boy, whose face had once again turned dejected, and whispered, "Come in."

Harry was stunned for a moment, then his face lit up with excitement.

"Here I am!" he exclaimed cheerfully. (End of Chapter)