A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 92 A Quiet Night

At this time, the atmosphere in the common room was quite lively. Many young wizards were gathered together chatting and playing, while others were rushing to finish their homework or practicing spells with their wands.

Draco and Blaise were sitting facing each other, playing wizard chess. Draco stared intently at the chess pieces on the board, his eyes bloodshot, as if he wanted to make them grow on their own. His pieces seemed to be cursing and swearing, as if they wanted to jump off the board and smash his face. Blaise, on the other hand, looked uninterested, giving the pieces a perfunctory command.

Pansy sat attentively to the side, occasionally coughing lightly to give Draco a quiet reminder, a wry smile on her face. Crabbe and Goyle stuffed handfuls of candy into their mouths, their cheeks bulging, while hastily copying Draco's homework.

"You lost again, Draco. I'm exhausted from winning so much." Blaise said listlessly. Playing chess with his opponent was neither suspenseful nor interesting. "In the world of Wizarding Chess, you're practically creating an undefeated legend."

"Impossible! I'm just having a bad run of form!" Draco's voice was shrill. "I've never lost a game of chess against my parents!"

"Don't you ever think that they're actually giving in to you?" Blaise leaned back in his armchair, holding the back of his head, showing no mercy to him.

"I also play chess with Pansy!"

"Everyone knows what she's up to..."

Pansy glared fiercely at Blaise, then turned her head away haughtily, her cheeks flushed red.

Draco blushed: "Crawb and Goyle!"

Blaise glanced at the two simpletons and shrugged: "So that's all you aspire to?"

Draco glanced at the two burly men grinning at him, then angrily snatched his homework away. Their puffed-out cheeks made them look like hamsters, and not cute ones at all.

"Alright, want to play Highstep Stones?" Draco seemed to have finally come to terms with reality. But everyone knew that after a while he would revert to his old ways, confidently challenge his friends to Wizard's Chess again, only to be utterly crushed once more... and so on.

"Good idea." Blaise became interested. "Owen, want to join in?" he said to Owen, who was sitting in front of the fireplace warming himself.

"Sorry, I hate pebbles." Owen glanced at them lazily. He didn't find those little pebbles that sprayed foul-smelling liquid in people's faces fun at all.

He looked down at the wand in his hand, the smooth, straight, jet-black wand twirling nimbly between his long, pale fingers. On the table in front of him, a slender quill pen was rapidly writing lines of words on parchment in neat, beautiful handwriting.

"You don't even like Quidditch!" Draco said slowly. "Let me think who else shares your taste... Well, Daphne, you two are quite a good match..."

"Draco—" Daphne smiled at him. She was practicing her Transfiguration spells by waving her wand.

Daphne glared at him and sat down next to Owen, glancing enviously at the quill pen that was smoothly writing his homework in front of him. "I really admire how well you can control it. I can only get my pen to write a few letters at most. Um, I'd like to ask you some questions about Transfiguration."

Owen smiled gently at her and nodded, patiently answering her questions.

Melete yawned widely, jumped from his lap onto the table, and curiously tilted his head to examine the automatic writing quill, even poking at it with his little paw. The little cat's long tail swung nimbly from side to side, accidentally knocking over the ink bottle. The tuft of long hair at the tip of its tail was covered in ink, like a large brush leaving large black marks on the parchment and the table.

"Meow!" The usually clean Melete suddenly bristled, her fur standing on end, and the cat seemed to swell up a whole size. Startled, she jumped up from the table, landing with a stomp on the ink, leaving a series of black paw prints on Owen's homework.

"Ah, Melete, if I remember correctly, you're a cat-raccoon, not a purebred dumb cat!" Owen chuckled as he watched the little cat-raccoon shaking its leg and wagging its tail, teasing it in a good mood.

Melete gave her cat owner a resentful look, her golden eyes twinkling mischievously. Then she strode confidently toward Owen, poised to jump onto him.

Owen swiftly grabbed a black top hat from the side and casually draped it over Melete, trapping the small cat-like creature inside. To Daphne's astonishment, Owen slammed his hand down on the top of the hat, instantly flattening it into a thin layer.

"Melte!" Daphne exclaimed. Owen's movements looked like he had flattened the little cat, no, it wouldn't have turned into such a thin layer.

Irving heard a low gasp behind him. He turned around but didn't see anyone nearby.

Raising an eyebrow, Owen smirked, picked up the flat top hat from the table—it was empty underneath. He flicked his arm, and the hat snapped back to its original shape with a "thud," releasing a cascade of playing cards that quickly covered the table.

Melett emerged from the cards with her head held high and a haughty gait, leaving faint paw prints on the cards. She lightly jumped onto Owen's lap, rolling around playfully, successfully soiling Owen's robes before contentedly licking her paws.

"Your magic?" Daphne asked with a smile. It would be difficult to achieve this effect with magic, because cat-like creatures are magical animals, and influencing them with magic is very challenging, especially since Owen hadn't chanted any spells.

"Yes, occasionally thinking about magic helps me relax a lot; it's a way to cultivate my mind." Owen smiled, squinting, while using a cleansing spell to remove the ink from Melete's body.

"Well, I feel like you've changed a lot lately. I really don't know what's happened to you." Daphne looked at him seriously, her beautiful blue eyes appearing a captivating turquoise under the greenish light.

She gazed into Owen's dark eyes, eyes that had always been gentle and clear, like the shimmering surface of a lake in spring, tranquil and captivating. But recently they seemed to have darkened considerably, still calm and serene, but more like the stagnant, oppressive surface of a sea before a storm, concealing the raging torrents about to erupt.

"Is something bothering you?" Daphne asked with concern.

Irving glanced at the girl with the serious expression on her face and couldn't help but smile. This girl always possessed a keen insight; rather than intuition, it was more like meticulous attention to detail and exceptional intelligence, enabling her to make clear and correct judgments.

"There are a few minor troubles, but nothing to worry about." Owen stretched, looking at the wand in his hand. "You don't need to worry about me. For me, nothing is worth getting upset about, because I know that worrying and fretting won't solve anything. I'll just find a way to solve it and then put it into practice. For me, there are always more solutions than problems."

"I really admire your attitude towards life," Daphne said, gazing quietly at the flames in the fireplace. "But what if you encounter insurmountable problems?"

"I'll ask for help then, after all, I'm not stubborn." Owen winked at her. "Of course, if there's really no way to solve it, then I'll just have to give up, or at worst, adapt to it, or join it..."

Daphne looked at him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, when a suppressed cough sounded from the side.

Owen turned his head and looked over, raising his wand with a half-smile.

"No, it's me!" Harry's voice came from the air in front of him, and then a head appeared out of thin air, with a smug and proud look on its face.

"Ah—!" Draco screamed. The sudden appearance of the head startled him.

The people around him cast curious and disapproving glances his way, and Harry quickly hid his head.

"The Invisibility Cloak?" Owen said, looking thoughtful as he pointed to the spot where Harry had disappeared.

"Dumbledore gave it to me. He said it was something my father left me," Harry said in a low voice, sitting down in the armchair next to him. Taking advantage of the moment when no one around was paying attention, he ripped off his Invisibility Cloak.

Harry went to Dumbledore's office tonight because Dumbledore said he wanted to give him a private lesson, and he had just returned.

Owen carefully examined the shimmering, liquid-like fabric in Harry's hand, his gaze deep and unfathomable. He was now eighty percent certain that Dumbledore was making arrangements for the future, but even now, before everything was settled, had Dumbledore already abandoned his research on the Deathly Hallows?

You should know that he should have collected all three Deathly Hallows by now.

"Or have they already studied it, but come up with nothing?" Owen didn't bother to think about it and turned his gaze away from the Invisibility Cloak. With his current level of knowledge, studying the Deathly Hallows was a pipe dream.

Daphne withdrew her curious and inquisitive gaze. Draco, whose cheeks were slightly flushed from the earlier scream, coughed to cover his embarrassment and said, "I've seen plenty of these invisibility cloaks. My dad can find me a dozen or so right away with just a word..."

"By the way, what did Dumbledore teach you tonight?" Owen asked curiously.

Harry withdrew his irritated glare from Draco and said with a puzzled expression, "Mr. Dumbledore said that the future of the wizarding world is not peaceful, and we must prepare to face the invasion of darkness..."

Then, a mixture of excitement and frustration crossed his face: "Mr. Dumbledore said he would teach me how to deal with them, whether in terms of magic, mindset, or choices... but before that, he wanted me to understand all the common sense first."

As he spoke, Harry pulled a note from his pocket and threw it on the table, his expression turning utterly dejected.

Owen glanced at it and saw that it was a long list of books with titles written in slanted font, such as: "Modern Magic Concepts and Classifications", "The Roots of Magic: The Distinction Between Black and White Magic", "Mysteries of History: The Secrets Behind Major Events", and so on.

These are all books that cover basic common sense. After reading them, you will have a general understanding of the fundamentals of life magic, dueling magic, curses and anti-curses, the essential differences and characteristics of black and white magic, and the evolution of magical history.

"Looks like Dumbledore really wants to groom Harry as his successor?" Owen clicked his tongue. "It seems he's figured out Harry's true nature."

Dumbledore's time was running out, but he understood that Voldemort was destined to return, and Harry was the one prophesied to play a crucial role in the fight against Voldemort. He needed to equip Harry with a degree of self-defense before he could no longer protect him. After discovering qualities in Harry that he admired and valued, he decided to give Harry an epic boost, perhaps even guiding his thinking to prevent him from going astray…

"Tsk, what's Dumbledore doing all this fuss about?" Owen yawned leisurely. If he were about to die, he would definitely make the most of his time to have some fun, since he didn't care what happened after he was gone.

Harry slumped listlessly in his armchair, like a salted fish that had lost its dreams, mourning his impending weekend. He did love magic, but that didn't mean he wanted to spend all his time studying! He wanted to play; he needed a holiday!

"Dumbledore said... the future will not be peaceful?" Daphne noticed this statement.

"Oh dear, my dad said Dumbledore's gone senile and he's always spouting crazy, alarmist nonsense. You'll lose if you believe him," Draco said nonchalantly. He glanced at Harry, a hint of envy in his eyes—that was a private lesson from Dumbledore! Regardless, Dumbledore was the most powerful and knowledgeable wizard of his time, a fact his father acknowledged.

He couldn't help but glance at Harry's book list. When he saw the long, dizzying list of titles, the envy in his eyes instantly faded, and his expression even showed a hint of pity.

"Dumbledore wouldn't joke about something like this..." Daphne pondered, resting her chin on her hand and frowning. Combined with her youthful face, she exuded a contradictory sense of naivety and maturity. However, as a member of an ancient pure-blood family, while she valued it, she wasn't overly worried.

Owen nodded with a smile, tidying up the mess that Melete had made on his desk. A few loose pages slipped out from between the pages and floated to the floor.

Daphne picked up the paper for him, glancing at the straight yet dazzlingly complex lines and some incomprehensible geometric patterns on it, and asked curiously, "What is this?"

Harry glanced at it, clapped his hands, and said, "I know, this is a design drawing, right? You can do this too?"

"Well, it's just a house design." Owen chuckled and tucked the paper back into his textbook, saying matter-of-factly, "A qualified magician should know a little bit about everything."

"Alright, I'm going back to my dorm now." He waved to everyone.

The dormitory room was dimly lit, and the gentle lapping of the lake outside the window brought a sense of peace.

Irving lay down on the bed, closed his eyes, and entered the space of facing the wall. The white mist was peaceful and serene, an eternal and unchanging silence and tranquility.

A long table had appeared in the space now facing the wall, neatly arranged with complex design drawings. Owen placed the design drawings he had brought in on the table, carefully checked them, made some revisions, and then sat down at his desk, pulling out a notebook from the table.

This old notebook with its dark brown cover looks quite old. Owen found it in Ravenclaw's secret chamber and it contains Ravenclaw's method for making black and white magic coexist.

This is a complex and profound magic technique, essentially a separation and isolation of one's own thoughts, allowing the negative emotions needed for black magic and the positive emotions needed for white magic to remain independent. However, the isolated part of the mind still resides within the body and can still think and analyze, much like transforming one's thinking from a single core to a dual core, thus not affecting the person's overall mental state.

Although this magic has extremely strong side effects, causing people to fall into a state of absolute rationality from which they cannot escape, it also gave Owen hope of overcoming the side effects of dark magic.

Beware of dark magic—this is something Owen has always warned himself. Although he has now accepted his dark side and reason can restrain malice, he always understands that as the influence of dark magic on him deepens, his bottom line will only lower and lower, and he will irreversibly become darker and more fanatical... He doesn't want to one day become like Voldemort, able to split his own soul without batting an eye.

"If this spell could be improved..." Owen pondered, waving his wand to summon his Dark Guardian. He carefully examined the malevolent and ominous shadow before him, his eyes growing brighter as an idea began to form in his mind.

"Could I fill this empty shell with my own thoughts? Foreign things are always unreliable." He pursed his lips, his eyes dark and deep, like a swirling, dark fog. "That way, even Voldemort's desire for my body can be solved at the same time..."

"Then we need to start brushing up on the theoretical knowledge required for this spell." Owen rubbed his temples. Improving this kind of spell is not easy. Even if he tries and fails repeatedly in the walled space, it is still a huge project.

He then pulled out the parchment Voldemort had given him from his pocket and began to study the flight spell recorded on it word by word. Although it was one of Voldemort's signature dark magic spells, and its effects seemed somewhat evil, it was still a flight spell! To be able to fly nimbly and quickly through the air was the dream of countless people.

After studying it for a while, Owen frowned, shook his head, and put the parchment away. This wasn't black magic he could study right now; it involved a lot of profound theoretical knowledge and was a silent spell. He couldn't waste his time on it now.

He went to the bookshelf, picked out a profound book on spell theory, and began to read it intently. Beside him, the Dark Guardian floated silently around, occasionally brushing Owen's arm with the corner of his cloak and nuzzling his back, like a well-behaved pet, showing no trace of the ferocity he had displayed during that day's unbridled slaughter.

It wasn't until nearly midnight that Owen left the confinement space, cuddling the little cat, the raccoon, beside him as he fell into a deep sleep.

(End of this chapter)