A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 55 The Problem of Pure-Blood Theory

"How can you fall asleep sitting up, Owen?" Harry asked, as if pondering a very serious scientific question.

"I was just brainstorming," Irving replied with a smile, offering the standard answer.

"Isn't this just a dream?" Harry asked suspiciously, looking at Owen with astonishment.

"You're not here to figure this out, are you?" Owen yawned and casually picked up his suitcase to examine it.

"Hmm..." Harry put on a serious expression again, hesitated for a long time before saying, "Owen, do you think pureblood is really that important?"

He was struggling with the password for the lounge: "Pureblood." This problem had been bothering him ever since the incident during his last flight lesson.

"You shouldn't be asking me that question," Owen chuckled nonchalantly. "I come from one of the twenty-eight pure-blood families, after all."

"But you can accept Hermione, and you get along well with those so-called half-blood wizards," Harry said earnestly. "I've asked quite a few people, but I'd like to hear your opinion... I think you've always been very knowledgeable."

"Should I feel honored?" Owen raised his eyebrows, snapped the pocket watch off his hand, and saw that the hands pointed to 10:30.

"But I should go out now." He closed his suitcase, carefully carried Melett back to bed, and stood up with the suitcase in his hand.

"I'll go with you," Harry said without hesitation. "You're looking for that fax machine, right? I can help you find it... although I don't understand what you're so worried about. I think that fax machine is a scam!"

"That's great." Owen glanced at him. Perhaps the savior's luck could neutralize his own bad luck? No, it could also be that the savior's troublemaking nature combined with his own unlucky nature produced unpleasant consequences.

Irving smiled nonchalantly, then strode out of the dorm, circled around to the exit of the common room, and went out through the open stone door.

"I haven't been out at night since I got caught last time." Harry rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining, his restless heart starting to stir. "Back then, we were put in solitary confinement, and Filch forced us to clean all the toilets on the second floor..." He said, his face showing a look of unbearable recollection.

"Including the girls' restrooms?" Owen asked with a sidelong glance, waving his wand and casting a Disillusionment Charm on the two of them.

"Yeah, and nobody's around late at night." Harry's figure was no longer visible due to the Illusion Charm; all that could be heard was his deep sigh.

Owen nodded in sudden realization. Speaking of Voldemort, he could have found the secret entrance to the girls' restroom when he was in school, perhaps as punishment for doing something wrong and being forced to clean the toilets... Otherwise, it would be so perverted for him to sneak into the girls' restroom and search everywhere.

Thinking about it this way, it seems like I've discovered the truth!

"Owen?" Harry's voice snapped Owen out of his reverie. He stubbornly asked, "Let's get back to our previous topic. What's your opinion on pure-blood theory?"

Owen thought for a moment and said lazily, "In fact, pure-bloods don't discriminate against half-blood wizards; they just exclude wizards of Muggle origin. If you really want to talk about it, there are no truly pure-bloods in the wizarding world anymore. In the past, every family has a history of intermarrying with Muggles, and those families that obsessively pursued pure bloodlines have long since disappeared."

"Then why are there still so many people pursuing pure-blood theory?" Harry asked, sounding extremely surprised.

"One reason is discontent. Wizards possess amazing magical powers, yet they are tightly confined to the small magical world by the Wizarding Secrets Act. Resentment towards Muggles became fertile ground for the pure-blood theory to take root, thus giving rise to two generations of Dark Lords," Owen said in a calm and unhurried tone, as if he were telling a long-ago story.

"Secondly, they cannot let go of their past glory. The current situation is that one after another, pure-blooded families with long-standing traditions are declining, and fewer and fewer families are still maintaining their superior status and wealth. More and more families are becoming increasingly miserable."

"Under these circumstances, some began to think about change, put aside their prejudices and look for a way out. Others, however, were unable to extricate themselves from their past dreams, using the concept of pure blood to maintain their sense of superiority, just like those Muggle nobles who had lost the power of life and death. They could only use 'born noble' to numb themselves, which is undeniably a tragedy."

Irving spoke softly, his clear and gentle voice echoing softly in the dimly lit corridor, like the whisper of a breeze.

Harry grinned broadly, his tone much more cheerful: "So, you don't support pure-blood theory."

"This is my judgment based on my own reason and insight." Owen wiped his lips, then smiled knowingly. "But in many situations, I don't mind being a proponent of pure-blood theory. As long as it's in my own interest, my bottom line is very flexible."

Noticing Harry's silence, he chuckled and said, "Profit is eternal. When you're high enough, people will gladly agree even if you point at my cat and say she's a dog."

Harry gave a vague "Ah," sounding like a complete idiot; Owen's point was beyond his comprehension. He only noticed Owen's statement about "profit being eternal," and shook his head vigorously, retorting, "There are things more important than profit in this world!"

"Tsk tsk." Owen curled his lip in regret, casually twirling his wand. It seems the savior is hard to corrupt. Truly a pure Gryffindor, even if he can read, he's still a brute.

"Good luck then," he said casually, while in his mind he was planning to get Harry to discover the Philosopher's Stone as soon as possible, and then send Voldemort back to his old home quickly.

Voldemort is a prehistoric pitfall for Owen right now. He's already lost his Patronus in such a short time; who knows what will happen in the long run? Owen has no intention of playing along with his antics.

The corridor was very quiet late at night. The two could not see each other and could only hear the slightly hurried footsteps.

After finally reaching the first floor, Owen headed straight for the Great Hall. As he passed a room, he heard Harry's footsteps stop.

"What's wrong?" he asked, turning to look at the door that was slightly ajar.

"I don't know, there seems to be something in the room," Harry said nervously in a low voice. He had felt something flash before his eyes as he passed by, but when he looked closely, he couldn't see anything.

He cautiously approached the room. The carved wooden door was slightly ajar, and the interior was pitch black, as if something terrifying and sinister was hidden inside. He couldn't help but tighten his grip on his wand.

"Huh?" Owen strode over, making no attempt to hide his voice, which startled Harry so much that he almost jumped up.

"Shh—" Harry slipped his wand under the door and slowly pushed it open. He couldn't help but swallow, involuntarily thinking of the terrifying Hogwarts tales Draco had told him.

The door slowly opened, making the room appear brighter. Cold, silvery moonlight spilled into the small room, illuminating a massive object draped in white curtains. A breeze blew in from the open window, causing the curtains and drapery to sway gently.

"What is that?" Owen leaned closer to examine the object covered by the curtain. Its height, reaching the ceiling, and its neat rectangular shape made him want to roll his eyes.

Why does this thing look so much like a mirror?

His eyes swept over the miscellaneous objects in the room, suspecting that Dumbledore was crouching in some corner and would jump out of some cabinet at any moment.

You're fishing for attention, fine, but is it really okay to be so obvious about it?

(End of this chapter)