A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 38 Memory Segmentation

Soul-Stealing Curse!

Owen stared at the face hidden in the darkness, his pupils suddenly contracting. His body, tightly bound, was unable to make any decent attempt to dodge. Before the emptiness and confusion brought on by the Imperius Curse could engulf him, he could only instinctively sink his thoughts into the space of contemplation.

At this moment, he couldn't afford to think twice; this was the only possible way he could think of to deal with his current predicament. Even in the worst-case scenario, it would at least preserve some of his own will. Although he carried several alchemical items given to him by his parents for protection and counterattack, none of them could withstand the strange curse the opponent had cast earlier, let alone the profound and unforgivable Imperius Curse.

Although wizards can resist the Imperius Curse through their own will, Owen obviously cannot place his hopes on such an ethereal thing. If he were to be completely controlled, the consequences would be devastating.

Owen opened his eyes in the space within the wall. It was bright, quiet, and peaceful, with wisps of white mist swirling around him. The hallucinatory effects of the Soul-Stealing Curse vanished instantly, and his consciousness was perfectly clear. It seemed that he had at least achieved his most basic objective.

Owen glanced quickly at himself, now lost in the silence of reality, and his mind raced. The more critical the moment, the more calm, collected, and methodical he became.

"The best-case scenario is that I can fake being controlled by the Imperius Curse, but that requires a lot of luck... and my luck doesn't seem to be that great. Let's not think about that for now..."

"The path of resistance seems to be blocked, unless Hagrid or some professor suddenly appears and takes me away..."

"Wait, Voldemort chose to cast the Imperius Curse on me instead of the Killing Curse, which means he doesn't want to kill anyone right now. That makes sense, after all, the Philosopher's Stone is so close; the death of a student would raise Dumbledore's guard higher than ever before. He's afraid things will get out of control, so he's hesitant to act!"

"His choice to use the Imperishable Charm instead of the Oblivion Charm means he wants to use me. I have something about me that he can use!" There were only a few possibilities, and Owen had already guessed the general idea.

"Then we can negotiate, at least that will keep him calm!" Owen quickly calculated his bargaining chips. Just as he had told Harry, self-preservation wasn't shameful, but rather a pragmatic choice. In fact, if Voldemort hadn't gone mad, treated his subordinates like slaves, and hadn't met his demise in the story, Owen wouldn't have minded standing on his side until he matured, after all, the adult world is never black and white.

"Thinking about it this way, this faction is really useless. No wonder no one included him in the fanfiction I read in my previous life..." Owen slapped his forehead, suppressing his wild thoughts.

"Well then, I need to prepare quickly. I wonder if I'll fall under the control of the Soul-Stealing Curse the moment I leave the Face-to-Face Space." He muttered to himself, while rapidly creating a copy of himself in front of him.

"I didn't expect to need this method so soon," he thought with a hint of helplessness.

Faced with the vacant clone, Owen shoved his wand into the body and then roughly activated Occlumency, manipulating his memories to sever them.

Occlumency, though not particularly advanced, couldn't stop Voldemort's spying, but it could be used as a weapon to sever some memories—though in reality, no one would dare do something so crazy. However, Owen, in the Wallfacer's Space, naturally had no such scruples.

Enduring the excruciating pain of his mind being split in two, Owen separated his past life experiences, along with his memories of the plot, from his memories of this life, adding a portion of his memories of the Wallfacer Space. He stared intently into the clone's eyes, suppressing the severed memories, while his thoughts, as if caught in a swirling kaleidoscope, instantly found themselves on the clone.

Irving clutched his throbbing head and looked up at the "self" before him. After his thoughts left, this "self" fell into silence and stagnation. Perhaps due to limitations of thought or soul, the other party did not develop independent consciousness, which was truly the best news.

Blinking, Owen didn't know what memories he had lost, but he vaguely knew what he was doing and didn't want to delve into it.

After taking a deep look at "himself," Irving closed his eyes and instantly returned to reality.

Although his mind went through a mental storm, his series of analyses and actions took only a moment. When his vision returned, the figure in front of him was still holding a magic wand.

With the help of the flashing lightning, Owen could clearly see the mixture of surprise and doubt on the other person's face, as well as a deep desire to investigate, as if he wanted to dissect his skull and study it.

It's a good thing that he wasn't directly controlled by the Imperius Curse, but Professor Quirrell clearly realized that his Imperius Curse had failed, which is another crisis.

Owen sighed inwardly, clutching the little cat-like creature struggling inside his robes, and innocently suggested, "Professor, why don't you try reciting it again? Incantations can always fail..."

The person opposite him squinted, toying with the wand in his hand, clearly not believing that his spell would fail.

"How can you possibly resist my Imperius Curse?" he said softly, with a strange hissing quality. His voice wasn't loud, but it was incredibly penetrating in the downpour. Yes, he was very weak, but not so weak that he couldn't even control a young wizard, even though the young wizard before him possessed magic power no less than that of an adult wizard.

He waved his wand slightly, and a faint green light appeared in the surrounding environment, illuminating their faces with an eerie and profound glow. Then, he extended his left hand, and the wand in Owen's hand flew involuntarily into his.

"If I told you that my father recited an ancient spell passed down through generations of the Shafik family to me before I started school, would you believe me?" Owen asked, bracing himself for the challenge, as the other person seemed to be able to see right through him.

Why is this Professor Quirrell completely different from the one from before? No, even the one from before is completely different from the one who usually stammers! And why does he want to take unicorn blood? Is it really like the other students guessed, that he's a vampire who suddenly had a whim to taste unicorn blood?

"Could it be possession by a ghost, or multiple personality disorder?" Owen was troubled. Why would Hogwarts let such a dangerous madman be a professor!

After fragmenting his memories of the plot, Owen could only fill in the gaps in his mind based on limited information. Fortunately, his behavioral habits and way of thinking, formed from his past and present lives, would not change as a result.

Looking into Owen's eyes, Quirrell put on a half-smile, clearly not believing a word Owen said.

"Okay, my way of thinking is a little different from most people's; I can shut down my thoughts before I can be controlled." Realizing that trying to outsmart him wouldn't work, Irving chose to "tell the truth." In fact, this was what he now believed to be the truth.

"This is a talent I was born with. Just like there are naturally born Legilimency, I am someone who is born knowing how to shut down the mind, only I am more skilled at it. To be honest, I didn't expect it to work on the Imperius Curse." Owen glanced around and found that many of the restraints on his body had been loosened. He tentatively stood up slowly from the mud.

Quirrell didn't stop Owen's actions; his cold but sharp eyes slowly narrowed. Talent? Some wizards do indeed possess all sorts of amazing talents, some of which are very special and rare. The existence of such talents is understandable; it's a field that even the most learned wizards find difficult to delve into.

"Is this why you practice Occlumency?" He looked down at Irving.

“That’s right, I think learning Occlumency will allow me to better control this talent,” Irving nodded. “You know, innate talents are always difficult to control precisely.”

"Professor, look, the water-repelling spell on me has stopped working. Could you cast one for me?" Owen smiled and pointed to his muddy body, breathing heavily in the downpour.

"Also, the Imperishable Curse is one of the Unforgivable Curses. If used on a human, it will result in life imprisonment in Azkaban," he kindly reminded them.

Irving knew that he couldn't afford to lose complete control. To maintain some initiative, he needed to subtly guide the conversation.

(End of this chapter)