A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 54 Tests and Summary

Standing in front of the stone wall outside the common room, Irving uttered the password for the week: "Pureblood."

As the stone gate slowly opened before him, he clicked his tongue and said, "This password... heh."

A warm aura wafted from the stone doorway into the lounge, slightly dispelling the perennial chill and dampness outside. Owen passed through the stone door, paying no attention to the young wizards doing their homework or chatting quietly, and went straight back to his dormitory.

The little cat Melete was curled up asleep on his four-poster bed. His small body was curled up into a light brown ball of fur in the soft, dark green bedding. The large and small dark spots on his fur were like the stripes of a leopard, rising and falling rhythmically with his breathing. He looked extremely beautiful.

Owen leaned over and picked up Meurette, stroking him gently. The warm, soft touch dispelled the slight chill that had welled up inside him. Having just lost one cat, he needed another to soothe his heart.

Thinking of the guardian spirit he hadn't had a chance to observe closely yet, and the pure joy and warmth that welled up when it finally appeared before him, Owen's fingers unconsciously poked at the spots on Melete's back.

Although the Patronus Charm is not a symbol of purity of heart, wizards with a Patronus are often perceived as possessing profound magical power and a righteous heart, making them more likely to be elected as members of the Wizengamot or high-ranking officials in the Ministry of Magic. Similarly, wizards with a Patronus are more easily trusted, at least as a sign that they are not evil dark wizards.

In a sense, the Patronus Charm is indeed, as Voldemort said, a convenient means for some people to gain fame and recognition.

But that wasn't what Owen cared about at all. Losing his Patronus wasn't a big deal; he could just pretend he'd never learned the magic... but the Patronus was a warm, cuddly cat, and that was unacceptable!

"I see. The Dark Lord was afraid that I would use the Patronus Charm to flaunt my abilities and go astray. What a thoughtful and touching professor." Owen chuckled.

"Voldemort, you old scoundrel! I'll never forgive you!" He gritted his teeth, thinking with considerable resentment.

Melett rolled over in his hands, then suddenly opened her golden eyes to look at his face. Her pupils shrank to thin vertical lines, and all the fur on her body stood on end.

With a sudden push, her four little paws stepped on Owen's hand, and the cat instantly took flight, leaping high as if on a spring. After rolling twice on the bed, she scrambled to her feet and assumed a wary, ready-to-attack stance.

"???" Owen blinked, his expression turning serious.

Melete is a cat-like creature, and she can sense things that humans cannot... Could it be that something has been done to her?

As Owen was seriously lost in thought, Melete tilted her head in confusion, then relaxed. She slowly moved closer to Owen, sniffed him with her pink little nose, then squatted down in front of him and yawned widely. Her sharp cat eyes narrowed, and she haughtily raised her head to look him over.

While sleeping, she felt her human exuded an evil aura, which was really scary for the cat. Luckily, after confirming it was still the same person, she generously let it go. Otherwise, what would have happened if they had divorced?

Sigh, this cat is such a worry.

"Meow—" Melete wagged her tail and let out a soft meow.

"You mean, you can sense an evil and dark aura within me, but it's rapidly diminishing or disappearing?" Owen glanced thoughtfully at his palm.

This must be because of the Dark Guardian. He had sensed it long ago; the Dark Guardian hadn't completely dissipated but was still following him in another way. It seemed this wasn't just a figment of his imagination... The reason Melete could detect something amiss now was probably because his body and magic hadn't fully adapted to it yet. After tonight, it shouldn't be so easy for him to notice anything.

"This black magic is quite complex." Owen narrowed his eyes; it seemed he needed to do more research on it.

"Mmm..." Melete called out again.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. I'm just a little upset because I lost a cat." Owen patted the cat's head.

"Meow?" Melete's eyes widened even more alertly, and one of her front paws pressed down on Owen's hand, its sharp nails sticking out.

"Not any other cat, a cat created by magic, you know what I mean." Owen hugged the kitten to his arms, speaking with a lazy smile, "Just a wave of the wand, and a kitten 'poof' jumps out..."

"Meow!" Melete withdrew her paw and rubbed her head against Owen's palm with great dissatisfaction.

"Okay, okay, you're enough for me."

Owen chatted with Melete with a smile, his mood gradually relaxing. As for being able to communicate fluently with Melete? For a true cat lover, isn't knowing a little cat language a normal thing?

After feeding Meletus a bowl of milk, he watched as the little tabby cat stretched and fell asleep on his pillow. Its large ears twitched occasionally, looking relaxed and lively.

Irving smiled slightly, sat down on the edge of the bed, and after a moment of contemplation, he lost interest in doing his homework and began to immerse himself in the space of facing the wall.

After retrieving the fragmented memories of the plot, Owen curled his lips into a mocking smile, then drew his wand, closed his eyes, and prepared his emotions.

Although he really didn't want to use dark magic much, now that he had learned it, he had to find out the specifics of the Dark Magic Guardians as soon as possible.

Perhaps because he was reluctant to recall what happened back then, Irving spent a long time trying to unleash the curse, but he still couldn't.

It must be said that it is difficult for ordinary people to generate enough malice to unleash those profound dark magic spells, because they require a heartfelt desire to harm others; legitimate anger and hatred often cannot exert their true power.

Therefore, even though the Ministry of Magic permitted Aurors to use the Unforgivable Charm during the Wizarding Wars, the vast majority of Aurors were still unable to use it effectively. It's very difficult for a normal person to generate sufficient malice towards another; it even requires time to cultivate the emotion. In that time, they might as well use other spells.

Perhaps Voldemort was right about one thing: using dark magic on intelligent beings elicits a response. In the process of harming and tormenting others, the malice within a person grows stronger, and perhaps dark magic itself exacerbates this change. The stronger the malice, the more powerful the dark magic becomes, and the wizard's mind and body are continuously corrupted by it, gradually losing their humanity.

The most direct manifestation is that corrupted dark wizards are unable to use the Patronus Charm. It's important to understand that casting the Patronus Charm only requires genuinely happy memories, regardless of the user's good or evil nature; for example, the wicked woman Umbridge could summon a Patronus. The only exceptions are the dark wizards—this is the effect of dark magic.

But Owen is suspicious if he believes Voldemort's claim that as long as one doesn't use dark magic outside the home, one won't be affected. Not everyone can remain rational or even turn back from the wrong path in darkness. Dumbledore and Snape were able to turn back because they both had love in their hearts, and only after experiencing lifelong regret did they finally realize their mistakes.

Kyrie Irving doesn't want to do that!

After a long while, Irving slowly opened his eyes, his pupils filled with deep darkness.

"Dark Guardian!" he shouted, waving his wand.

A figure shrouded in black mist emerged in the pure white space, making everything around it seem to take on a deep, somber hue. It floated there silently, incredibly eerie and abrupt, yet it also seemed to be mocking all living beings with a sarcastic laugh.

"Summoning the Dark Guardian this time was much easier than last time," Owen summarized the differences between the two attempts. The magic power required was significantly reduced, and the required malice was also less. "Sure enough, ever since I summoned it, it has stayed by my side and hasn't completely dissipated."

However, while the Dark Guardian is perfectly capable of fulfilling the role of a Patronus, and even has more uses, it is clearly a malevolent form of dark magic. If Owen doesn't want to be expelled from Hogwarts and imprisoned in Azkaban, he'd better not use it in public.

Without summoning the Dark Guardian, its usual function is not much different from the Patronus Charm, only preventing Owen from being affected by Dementors... at most, it can stop him from being afraid of entering Azkaban? In addition, without the warm and joyful feeling of a Patronus Charm... the more Owen thought about it, the more he felt he was losing out.

Okay, if he ever gets a sudden urge to experience a different life, he can go to Azkaban and experience a decadent life with room and board provided.

"But it's really cool... You could even think of it as a corrupted version of the Guardian." Owen adjusted his mindset and began to look at the guard in front of him with appreciation. With a gentle wave of his hand, the Dark Guardian floated over gracefully, circling him obediently, its cloak fluttering beautifully.

Muse, the rabbit who had been squatting beside Owen munching on lettuce, suddenly stopped, her long ears standing up high, and the lettuce in her mouth falling to the ground. Then she burst forth with unprecedented speed, leaping and bounding to a distant corner, where she stared with pitiful red eyes, trembling.

Owen glanced at the rabbit in the corner with a smile, then looked away. When he summoned the Dark Guardian, his emotions became colder and more malicious, but of course, he was never without reason.

He waved his wand, and the quill automatically jumped up and began writing rapidly on the open notebook, faithfully recording his feelings at that moment.

He reached out and stroked the hem of the black cloak, the cool, smooth touch traveling from his fingertips to his heart, a sense of closeness and familiarity welling up within him, as if it were a part of him. Owen exerted a little force, and the hem suddenly slipped from his fingers, as if passing through the body of a ghost.

Owen directed it to float swiftly through the air; it was fast and turned with great agility, like a freely dancing black veil. Owen gradually learned to control it, sometimes making it appear as if it were passing through bookshelves and desks, and sometimes making it lift up a wooden figure used for practicing spells and float it in the air.

Watching the wooden figure being carried away by the Black Demon Guard, Owen narrowed his eyes, and the black mist within his cloak suddenly churned violently. The wooden figure gradually turned black, eventually corroding until it crumbled at the slightest touch.

Next, he looked at his clone and let the hem of his cloak lightly brush against the clone's arm. The arm quickly turned bluish-black and developed hideous corrosive wounds that made one's scalp tingle.

"Hmm, it can be both real and feint, making it difficult to defend against, and it also has considerable dark magic attack power." Owen recalled the feeling that Voldemort's guard had given him. Perhaps the dark guard also had the power to instill fear and despair like the Dementors, but as its master, he was not affected.

"Finally..." Owen stood up from his chair, his expression becoming much more solemn. He beckoned, and the Black Mage Guardian floated over in the blink of an eye, draping over him like a real garment.

A cool, watery black mist enveloped Owen's body, his matte black cloak billowing lightly behind him. The thick mist obscured his face and most of his body, leaving only his hands and calves clearly visible. Owen raised a hand to adjust his top hat, and only the curved, white corners of his mouth were visible on his mist-shrouded face, like a mocking mask.

"Feels good," Owen murmured with a bright smile. A dark desire welled up within him, like a malevolent flower tempting his soul to ruin; strange inspirations surged through his mind, making him feel as if he had returned to that day in his past life…

With a light leap, he actually floated into the air. His speed was no faster than those old-fashioned flying brooms at school, but he truly flew on his own!

"Haha..." Owen laughed like a child who had received a new toy, flying freely through the wall space. He waved his wand and cast spells at the practice dummies, initially having difficulty hitting them, but his accuracy improved over time.

Only when he began to feel mentally exhausted did he dispel the Black Magic Guardian from his body, feeling it transform into a cold power and merge into his own. Owen's smile never faded.

"Interesting, very interesting." He picked up his rabbit, lifted it high, and spun it around, his expression immediately turning into a deep mockery. "Can it provoke my malice? Explicit changes are easy to spot, but subtle influences are much harder to detect..."

"To transform white magic into black magic... I've never encountered anything like this before. It seems I'll have to spend more time browsing the forbidden book section. I could also write home and ask; I remember we have quite a collection of advanced black magic books."

"I'm in a bit of a dangerous state right now. This magic has a huge impact on me, much more so than ordinary dark magic. Is it because it's derived from a Patronus Charm, making it closer to my inner emotions?" Owen licked his lips. He felt that even the three Unforgivable Curses wouldn't have such a significant effect on a person. "It seems that the Dark Guardian should only be used when absolutely necessary."

"I remember seeing a certain joy on Voldemort's face when I successfully cast the spell... What was it about me that he was after?"

Owen gently held the trembling rabbit in his arms, soothing her tenderly. His eyes darted around, and his expression became quite amused.

"Looks like Voldemort and Quirrell have been eating quite well lately..."

"As students, how could we forget to entertain our dear professor?"

Having finally calmed his somewhat excited emotions, Owen exited the meditation space and returned to his warm, softly lit dormitory. He rubbed his temples, feeling that the faint chill that had lingered in his heart hadn't dissipated; the meditation space hadn't eliminated its influence.

"It seems that using the Wallfacer's Dimension to avoid the side effects of learning dark magic won't work." Owen frowned, then relaxed. "That's right, malice originates from one's own emotions and thoughts. This proves that the Wallfacer's Dimension can't change my mind, which is a good thing... I guess so."

"Dark magic is such a huge pitfall... How do we deal with these side effects?"

Owen stretched his numb legs. Melete had somehow climbed on top of him and was curled up in a ball, making purring noises.

He turned his head and suddenly saw a pair of eerie green eyes staring silently at him, which was a little scary at first glance.

Owen looked closely and said irritably, "Why are you staring at me, Harry?" The guy had a serious, thoughtful expression that inexplicably reminded Owen of Snape's gaze.

(End of this chapter)