A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 35 Training

The Truth Machine doesn't know the truth, but it can transmit the answers in someone else's heart to another person.

It never lies, but the person who knows the answer may not immediately think of the accurate answer, or the answer that person knows may be wrong, so it can lie passively.

For example, regarding Harry's special power, Dumbledore would obviously answer that it was "love," a curse from his mother's sacrifice. But Owen's first thought was the protagonist's halo. Having watched the story from a god's-eye view, he certainly knew how many foolish things Harry had done; if he weren't the protagonist, he would have died long ago!

It's important to understand that the Sacrifice Charm only protects Harry from being killed by Voldemort himself, and at most, it also prevents him from being found by enemies when he's near a blood relative. If it could protect Harry from harm by anyone, Dumbledore wouldn't have needed to go through all that trouble; he could have just led the Savior straight into the Death Eaters' stronghold and unleashed a rampage.

But here's the question: why does the Truth Machine transmit Owen's thoughts instead of Dumbledore's? Logically, Dumbledore's answer should be closest to the truth!

This is also what Irving is wondering about right now.

"Was it because Dumbledore was too powerful, causing the fax machine to back down? Or perhaps..." Owen closed his eyes in thought, then suddenly opened them, a glint of light flashing in his dark eyes, "Occlumency!"

"If it truly represents the thoughts in someone else's mind, then brain shut-off surgery might be effective against it!" Owen couldn't help but clutch his blanket tighter.

He studied Occlumency for a week and discovered he had a good aptitude for it; his practice was progressing fairly smoothly. To reach a level where he could fool Dumbledore and Voldemort... he'd probably need several more years of practice.

"I don't know what level of deception would be needed to fool a fax machine, and there's no way to verify that." Owen narrowed his eyes, then suddenly realized the key point, "Wait, could the walled space block this kind of spying?"

Whenever Irving enters the walled space, his external body is in a state of unconsciousness. In this state, it is as if he has locked his mind in a closed space, which is similar to the Occupy Central technique.

Irving would never forget that before he called this white space the "Wallfacer Space," its real name was the "Thinking Space"!

"The problem now is whether the barrier of the walled space can block the fax machine's detection... but this is also impossible to prove, so we can only try it as a last resort."

"That way, I can stay in the wall-facing space for two hours each night while waiting for news from the ghost. Actually, I used to pass the time like this often, except I would also come out to sleep for a while."

"I just hope that the fax machine can find and transmit the answers in other people's minds in real time, rather than collecting and storing all the information in other people's minds earlier... The probability of that is probably not high, otherwise this function would be too overpowered."

Thinking this, Owen's serious expression turned lazy again. Now that he had come up with a method that might work, he might as well just do it. Even if it ultimately didn't work, at least he had done his best and left the rest to fate.

Anyway, he always has a good attitude. There are always more solutions than problems. At worst, everything will collapse and be rebuilt. It's not a big problem, and he doesn't even need to think about it.

"Hey, actually I don't need to worry too much. After all, the fax machine only gives one answer per person per year. So, even if Voldemort or Dumbledore finds it, they'll only get the answers to one or two questions at most... And I know a lot more than that, and there's a lot more I don't know, not to mention that some questions simply don't have answers."

Owen relaxed and lay down on the bed with his hands behind his head, letting out a big yawn. Only then did he hear Harry calling him, though he had been distracted and hadn't heard him.

"Owen? Do you know what that means?" Harry asked expectantly.

Irving said lazily, "I don't know, but I think... the protagonist, perhaps, is the protagonist of a fairy tale, novel, or opera?"

"Harry, you might be the protagonist of some story, according to the fax machine. A destined child who will save the world, like King Arthur who pulled the sword from the stone, and you'll be guided and assisted by a legendary figure like Merlin, eventually reaching the pinnacle of life..." Owen's tone was teasing.

"What on earth have you been thinking about all day…?" Harry said exasperatedly. "I'm sure I was tricked by that damn fax machine, and Draco and I are going to be in solitary confinement because of it! If I were the main character, the story definitely wouldn't have turned out this way, right?"

"You never know, maybe he's the protagonist of a sadomasochistic story?" Owen shook his head with a wicked grin, speaking in a pitying tone, "This kind of protagonist is destined for a tragic life, constantly losing everything, and most likely ending up being sacrificed to the heavens..."

"Come on, if I were that kind of character, you'd probably be the first one sacrificed," Harry said irritably. "The 'protagonist' thing is just a lie."

"Not necessarily. Everyone is the protagonist of their own life. Everyone's life is a unique poem, whether it is wonderful or long and monotonous," Owen said softly, his voice echoing the quiet undulations of the lake outside the window, like a light song coming from the depths of the Black Lake.

"Great. Now all I know is that I'd be a fool to go looking for that fax machine again!" Harry scribbled his wand on the table.

"A wise choice," Irving said sleepily, his eyes closed.

……

Time flowed slowly but steadily, and before we knew it, the next week had arrived.

In the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Professor Quirrell was still stammering as he read from the textbook, and the smell of garlic in the classroom was even stronger. Owen sat in the back row with his eyes closed, pondering several problems he had encountered while learning Occlumency.

Quirrell's Defense Against the Dark Arts course didn't cover any spells at all. The students spent most of their time daydreaming, listening to each other recite methods for banishing dark creatures from the textbook. A small portion of the time was spent teasing Quirrell, and then everyone would perk up to enjoy watching him get speechless and stiffen up when asked questions—this was one of the few amusing moments in the class.

"Hey Owen, aren't you really good at finding the professors' strengths and getting their approval?" Blaise nudged Owen's arm with his elbow. "Why doesn't it work on Professor Quirrell? Even you can't find anything good about him, can you?"

"Well, at least he seems easygoing, allowing us to daydream and make noise in his classes." Irving didn't even open his eyes.

"Come on, he just can't control us." Blaise shrugged. "Look, even you hate him, so how pathetic is he?"

"It's not like I like everyone..." Owen glanced at him.

"Could you possibly find someone you dislike at Hogwarts?" Daphne interjected with a chuckle, her expression mocking. "You even have connections with Filch, and you can even get close to his cat..."

"I just like to think about things from a different perspective," Irving said with a slight smile and a lively tone. "I've always been good at distinguishing between friend and foe, and even better at turning enemies into friends."

After exchanging a few words with the two, he entered the meditation space and began savagely training his brain-occlusion technique inside.

If he had followed the proper training methods, it would have taken Kyrie Irving several years to barely qualify, so he chose the most brutal method: tormenting his brain in the wall-facing space.

After thorough testing, Owen confirmed that any damage he sustained within the walled space would not carry over to the outside world, neither physically nor mentally. As for the soul, he was not yet at that level; there were few spells that could affect the soul, and those that existed were extremely profound.

Even if he blows his head up in the wall-facing space and turns himself into an idiot, he will only return to his body instantly. In essence, he will not suffer any harm, only more mental fatigue.

In fact, even the fatigue he experienced from practicing spells in the Wallfacer wouldn't carry over to the outside world. Irving felt tired after returning because he had spent too much time in the Wallfacer.

Staying in the walled space consumes mental energy, a point Owen has finally confirmed over the past few days. In exchange, all his states within the walled space, whether positive or negative, are unrelated to his physical body.

At this moment, Owen was roughly using Occlumency to stir up his memories, trying to forcibly mold them into various shapes according to his own will. This was a very effective way to accumulate experience, but the price was a stinging pain in his brain as if it were being stirred into a paste, a deep sense of disorientation, and a terrifying feeling of loss… If he weren't in the Concentration Space, he would definitely become an idiot if this continued!

Logically, learning Occlumency should be a gradual, gentle, and stable process. By suppressing their emotions, closing off their minds, and controlling their thoughts, the sorcerer presents a false self to the outside world, gradually building a defensive barrier around the brain against external threats.

With advanced practice, this barrier can be manipulated at will, constructed into intricate labyrinths to protect one's thoughts and memories, excluding all external intrusions. True masters can even construct false emotions, memories, and thoughts to display to outsiders, much like an autonomous split personality, but completely under their own control.

Therefore, Occlumency is not only used to counter Legilimency; it can also render memory-related magic such as the Forgetfulness Curse ineffective, preventing it from penetrating the brain's defenses, or simply erasing false memories.

Irving wandered around in his own mind for a long time before opening his somewhat dazed and lifeless eyes. He instantly returned to his physical body and then instantly returned to his physical body, refreshing his state.

He shook his head to shake off his mental fatigue, and then jotted down his new insights in his notebook.

After writing down his takeaways, Irving tapped his quill pen on the notebook again and again, then wrote:

"Although this brutal training method has greatly improved my Occlumency skills, it's still not enough to deal with the current predicament. Perhaps, based on the ability of the walled space to replicate myself, I could transfer key memories to the clone when needed, allowing it to reside in the walled space..."

"If the space where I face the wall is my mental space, then it should be equivalent to a safe house for my memories. But the safety of this behavior is unknown, so it needs to be used with caution."

"The current approach is sufficient; there is no need to act rashly."

As he wrote this, Irving stopped writing, just as the school bell rang outside.

(End of this chapter)