A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 48 Daily Life

In the following days, the news of what happened in flight class spread throughout the entire school at an alarming rate.

This was originally just a small matter, but anything that is related to a boy who survived a great ordeal will attract a lot of attention.

Harry Potter's words and actions became widely known, which earned him the approval and recognition of a large group of ambitious young wizards, and gave him a good reputation in various houses.

Indeed, even Slytherin House is similar, since bullying is something that everyone except for a very small number of bullies abhors. As for the other party's behavior of protecting their "Mudblood" friend, it has also given rise to a lot of thought. Slytherin House has a large number of half-blood students, as well as some pure-bloods who are not too extreme, so they are relatively accepting of this kind of thing.

As for the few who couldn't stand it... well, they just had to endure it. Their voices were drowned out by the crowd, causing little ripple.

Well, regarding the flying lesson, Owen rode on Harry Potter's coattails to gain some attention, while Draco, who had a conflict with Harry, became famous—although he was already so high-profile that almost everyone knew him. Hermione, who was defended by Harry, also received more attention, becoming a minor embellishment in this matter.

Owen laughed it off, but also inexplicably felt that this might be an opportunity to ease the long-standing blood rift, provided Dumbledore could make good use of it. In this light, Harry being sorted into Slytherin might not be such a bad thing after all.

However, Irving has no time to get involved in such matters right now. Until he has enough power to protect himself, he should focus on himself.

In the days that followed, Harry and Draco almost completely fell out. Draco tried every possible way to provoke Harry, but Harry always ignored him, treating him like air.

Another change occurred in Potions class.

Everything that happened during flying class must have reached Professor Snape's ears. Owen found it hard to describe the complex look Professor Snape gave Harry during Potions class that day.

With an unfathomable expression on his perpetually gloomy face, Owen found it difficult to see through Snape's inner thoughts, given his usual skill in disguising himself and keeping his true feelings hidden.

But unusually, he didn't try to find fault with Harry again. Instead, he let the matter drop and Owen even felt that his tone wasn't so cold anymore—of course, he was still sharp-tongued, and still made the Gryffindor students almost vomit blood.

Tsk tsk, that's interesting.

Perhaps it was Owen's overly conspicuous behavior of enjoying the chaos, or perhaps Professor Snape disapproved of the roaring bonfire Owen lit in every class, but Owen became one of Professor Snape's targets for criticism, and his concocted weed-killing potion was dismissed as worthless...

Fortunately, while criticizing and finding fault, he would also offer some practical information on potions to support his conclusions, so Owen was both in pain and happy. Although he was so angry at the other party's taunts and ridicule that he wanted to throw a handful of playing cards at his face, he gained much more than usual.

Owen finally realized just how tough Harry's Potions class was.

However, Harry, who was let off the hook, felt uneasy after class. He wondered if the headmaster had relaxed his expectations of him because he had completely disappointed him.

To this, Irving could only say, "Young man, you should get your head checked out, or you might develop Stockholm Syndrome from all this torture."

That said, Professor Snape did not give Harry any special treatment, and the story of Harry joining the Quidditch team ahead of schedule was ruined, although the unsuspecting Harry was only looking forward to joining the team next year.

In the corridor, Pipi was carrying a large bucket of paint and scribbling all over the walls. The red paint spread to the oil paintings hanging on the walls, making a mess of the rooms, clothes, and even faces of the figures in the paintings. In an instant, the people in the paintings covered their faces, screamed, and ran away, scrambling in panic to the distant frames of the paintings.

"Peeves!" Mr. Filch, his face contorted with rage, chased after Peeves, but to no avail. Mrs. Lorris, now a little plumper, repeatedly leaped over the wall, but each time she passed right through Peeves' body. Finally, with a grin, Peeves flipped his paint bucket over and smashed it onto the Maine Coon's head.

Peeves, laughing loudly, darted over and, upon seeing Owen and the others, gave a strange, mocking greeting: "Oh, little Potter, little angel of justice... oh, and little Owen, the know-it-all. Need Peeves to help send a few people to heaven for you to save?"

When Pippi looked at Owen, his smile carried an exaggerated fawning tone, but the words he uttered were anything but restrained.

Irving was unfazed by Pipi Ghost's malicious teasing and replied with a lazy smile, "Sure, but saving students is no fun. If you could send a few professors to heaven, I would be very grateful to you."

"Heh, don't underestimate Peeves!" Peeves darted around like a deflated balloon, sticking his tongue out at him with his big mouth. "Peeves is all-powerful!" Then, he disappeared into the wall.

Owen chuckled with amusement, tilting his head. He cast a cleansing spell on Mrs. Lorris, whose entire body was painted red, until her tangled red fur became smooth. Only then did he withdraw his hand with satisfaction.

He had wanted to cast the spell on Mrs. Lorris for a long time. Every time he saw her tangled fur, it made him feel uneasy, making him wonder if there were a bunch of fleas hiding inside... But Filch was always wary of anyone casting spells on his cat.

"No spellcasting in the hallway during breaks!" Filch yelled gruffly when he saw Owen's behavior.

"Do you need my help cleaning the walls, Mr. Filch?" Owen asked with a gentle smile, smoothly twirling his wand between his fingers, as if he were the one who owned the place and that he wasn't the one who had just cast the spell.

"...No need!" Filch picked up his cat, examined it carefully, and then waved it away like a fly, saying, "Get lost! Don't let it happen again!"

"Tsk." Owen chuckled and stuffed his wand back into his pocket. Melett, who had been sleeping the whole time, poked his head out of his shirt pocket, shook his big ears, gave Owen a wry look, and then glared fiercely at Lady Loris.

Melete hooked her long tail around Owen's wrist, her golden eyes sharp: This is mine!

The moment Lady Lorris's eyes met Melett's, her fur stood on end, turning her into a fluffy, sparsely-haired ball of fluff, trembling as she buried her head in her hands.

Melett nodded in satisfaction, glanced at Owen sideways, opened his mouth slightly to reveal an amusing expression that looked like a smile, and then slowly put it back into his pocket.

"Oh my, little Merlete is so cute." The contented little cat was lifted out by the scruff of its neck by Owen, who stroked its fur in his hand until it was all puffed up. Its four little paws were spread out like plum blossoms, scratching wildly in the air, but it could never reach Owen's hand.

By the time Owen was satisfied, Melete was a salty cat who had lost all dreams. Well, the smile hadn't disappeared; it had simply moved to someone else's face.

It wasn't until after dinner that Owen rubbed his temples, feeling a bit of a headache. He had gathered all the potion ingredients and had to go to Quirrell's office.

(End of this chapter)