A certain broken Hogwarts

Chapter 96 Natasha

Owen, who had emerged from the Nightmare Forest, was now all alone. Moved by Ms. Elizabeth's plight, Ms. Grey decided to stay and keep her company for a while.

The briefcase in her hand contained some specialties brought back from the forest, such as potion ingredients and magical plants that were rarely seen outside. These things were plentiful in the remote Nightmare Forest, but as a ghost, Lady Elizabeth had no use for them. Seeing that Owen was interested in them, she took him to collect some.

As evening approached, snowflakes began to fall from the sky. The snow on the ground reflected the dimming sunlight, like a pale golden veil covering the mountains.

It wasn't until the sun had completely set and a few scattered stars twinkled in the sky that Owen finally crossed the mountain and returned to the small wizarding market he had come from. He stamped his feet, which had become a little numb from walking, and the light suitcase in his hands seemed to have become heavy.

He somewhat regretted not learning Apparition and Teleportation. He had been in Hogwarts, where Apparition was forbidden, so he wasn't in a hurry to learn the spell, especially since his schedule was already packed.

"Hmm, I still need to train my body." Owen took a breath and entered the wizard market.

The market became much quieter as night fell; many stalls had already closed, with only the shops lining the streets still lit up and a few customers inside. In some inconspicuous corners, however, some new stalls had sprung up, the vendors mostly concealing themselves completely, looking rather furtive.

Owen knew that most of the goods on these stalls were of dubious origin, mostly stolen goods. These things weren't worth selling on the black market; they were usually sold at small stalls in the night market, where many wizards were happy to buy these obviously cheaper items.

After glancing at the various stalls with interest, Owen quickly lost interest in the items. He then retraced his steps to the bar he had come from, intending to use the fireplace on his way home.

However, he clearly underestimated the number of people at this wizarding market. As the only fireplace open to the public, the bar was already packed with wizards waiting in line to use it, and every now and then someone would step out of the fireplace and bump into people outside. The bar was noisy, and many people ordered butterbeer while waiting and talked loudly at the dirty tables.

Many wizards were coming and going, making even the narrow alleys outside crowded. Owen also spotted several figures wearing cloaks, their faces tightly covered by their hoods, exuding a gloomy and indifferent aura that kept many normally dressed wizards at a distance.

"Dark wizards..." Owen muttered to himself. Some of the dark wizards whose minds and bodies had been corrupted by dark magic were quite easy to identify, because the aura they unintentionally exuded was always gloomy and dark. Of course, not all dark wizards were like that.

He suddenly reached out and grabbed the wrist of someone reaching for his suitcase with a "snap," then turned his head to give a faint smile to a man as thin as a bamboo pole.

"What are you doing?" The wizard brandished his wand in his other hand and grinned menacingly at Owen.

"Do I look like someone you can mess with?" Owen's smile was gentle and perfect, but his eyes suddenly turned cold and dark, a chilling malice that sent a shiver down the man's spine. He said in a soft, pleasant voice, "If I were you, I would stay far away from you immediately."

The man abruptly pulled his wrist back. Although the young wizard before him was not old, the chilling malice emanating from him was no less than that of extremely dangerous dark wizards, giving the man goosebumps. His gaze shifted uncertainly for a moment, then he hurriedly lowered his head and walked away.

"What a nuisance." Owen drew his wand and glanced at his pitiful height. Although these thieves bullied the weak and feared the strong, they often didn't mind playing the role of robbers when facing the vulnerable.

The closer they got to the bar, the more crowded the alley became. Irving's small figure was swallowed up by the crowd, his view blocked by those around him.

The wizards in front suddenly became agitated, with several cursing and swearing, seemingly having their feet stepped on. Just as Owen looked up, a hooded figure forcefully pushed through the crowd, causing those around to frown.

Because of the height difference, Irving could see her face through the hood. Long, deep red curly hair was hidden under the hood, her young and beautiful face was slightly pale, her slightly thick lips were tightly pursed, and her equally deep red eyes were cold yet shone like flames. Her bold, thick eyebrows gave her a sharp and piercing look.

Although he'd never seen her face before, those distinctive eyes instantly reminded Owen of her—the woman he'd casually released when he and Voldemort robbed the black market that day. He hadn't expected her to be alive; he'd assumed Voldemort had also dealt with her that night.

The woman in front of him paused for a moment when she saw Owen, then her nostrils twitched slightly, and her expression grew increasingly surprised. She quickly glanced around, then placed her hand on Owen's shoulder and pulled him along, trying to squeeze out of the way.

"Why are you here again? Didn't I tell you I don't need help?" she said in a low voice, her voice husky and magnetic.

Owen raised his eyebrows, glanced at the slender hand resting on his shoulder, and barely managed to lower his wand to avoid casting a curse on the other person.

This woman seems to have mistaken him for someone else? But how did she recognize him? That night, he not only wore a hood but also distorted his face.

"You've mistaken me for someone else. I'm not here to help you..." Owen broke free from the woman's grasp. This woman was clearly avoiding something, and he had no interest in getting involved in other people's business.

"There she is! Don't let her get away!" Just then, a dark wizard standing in the corner shouted, pointing in their direction. "She has a child with her!"

The red-haired woman's face instantly turned ugly. She glanced around, then dashed headlong into a dark alley, grabbing Owen's arm as she did so. Owen speechlessly let her pull him along; the group of pursuers clearly mistook him for one of the woman's accomplices.

The two ran wildly through the narrow but complex alleys. Fortunately, the crowds they had just encountered slowed down their pursuers, allowing them to escape temporarily.

"You're from Turant, aren't you? Go back now. I don't need your help, and I won't join you." The woman seemed to have her own destination. She walked through the alley with practiced ease, speaking seriously as she did so. "Of course, thank you for saving me last time. I owe you my life, but only to you. After I finish what I need to do, you can take my life if you want."

"I'm curious, how did you recognize me?" Owen asked, squinting.

"Smell. My nose has been magically modified, allowing me to distinguish very subtle scents." The woman's tone turned somber, clearly recalling something unpleasant.

"I see." Owen nodded and calmly explained to the woman that he had nothing to do with Turant and that he had only saved her by chance, not on purpose.

"You...you really aren't?" The woman was stunned for a while, her tone filled with deep apology. "I'm sorry for dragging you in here today. I'll take you to a safe place later."

She looked Owen over carefully again, her gaze lingering on his young and innocent face for a long time, before tentatively asking, "By the way, this isn't your real appearance, is it?"

"This is my true appearance, madam," Owen said calmly, touching his cheek. Being targeted by a group of dark wizards would be a considerable problem for him.

"Sorry." The woman pulled a black cloak from her bag and tossed it to Owen. "You'd better stay away from dark wizarding areas for the time being, like Knockturn Alley and the black market. I think this will pass quickly, if things go smoothly..."

Owen glanced at the cloak, which was clearly too big for him, pointed at it with his wand and said "Shrink quickly," then draped the cloak, which had shrunk to the appropriate size, over himself and pulled up the hood to cover his face.

Throughout the entire process, the woman watched intently, her expression shifting constantly. She had initially assumed Owen was a short, adult wizard, but he turned out to be a young wizard who seemed to be just starting school. However, she didn't think the young wizard before her was someone to be trifled with. On the day at the black market, she had personally witnessed this little guy using the Unforgivable Curse—a dangerous and terrifying dark magic—with remarkable skill, and his clearly dark magic-created shadowy figure had killed quite a few people.

"I am Natasha Valente," the woman said with a complicated expression. "You can call me Natasha."

"Okay, Natasha, would you mind if I knew what I've gotten myself into?" Owen asked politely, his expression calm and indifferent beneath his hood, his wand twirling deftly between his fingers.

"This way..." Natasha glanced at a figure approaching from the other alley, then abruptly turned into the other alley and said to Owen.

After evading another round of pursuit, Natasha briefly and urgently recounted the whole story.

Natasha was born into a dark wizarding family in Knockturn Alley. Her family consisted only of her father and her younger brother, who was a year younger than her. The siblings did not know who their mother was. Their father was a complete dark wizard, brutal, ruthless, and insane, and would occasionally treat the siblings as experimental subjects.

The siblings were undoubtedly unfortunate; they didn't even have the opportunity to attend magic school. Although they received Hogwarts acceptance letters, their father, as their guardian, refused to accept them. This situation was not uncommon in many dark wizarding families and some pure-blood families, and Hogwarts couldn't possibly force all eligible young wizards to attend school.

For dark wizards, sending their children to Hogwarts means dealing with the persistent traces of their children during holidays. They even see attending magic school as a complete waste of time, believing it will make children naive and weak. And the children of dark wizards are almost always dark wizards themselves; this is a difficult thing to change.

The siblings grew up relying on each other. Although their father was cold and mad, he would still teach them some magic when he was in a good mood so that they could help them. Until one day, their father stole a treasure that the Dark Spirit organization had worked so hard to acquire, and then abandoned the siblings and ran away.

The Dark Spirits are a sizable dark wizarding organization in the European magical world and one of the behind-the-scenes controllers of the British wizarding black market. Enraged, the Dark Spirits leader ordered his men to capture the thief, but also took his anger out on the innocent siblings, perhaps believing they knew their father's hiding place.

Natasha narrowly escaped an attack, but her brother was captured. After finally managing to find out about her brother, she refused to join the Turant organization, who were likely also after her father's stolen goods but intended to use appeasement.

She infiltrated the black market alone to rescue people, but fell into a trap and was captured and tortured by a group of dark wizards. She also learned that her younger brother had died.

After Owen broke into the black market and freed her, she chased a dark wizard to a corner of the room, where she was suddenly thrown out of a tent and escaped by Apparition in the chaos.

"I want revenge," Natasha said resolutely. "Not just the Dark Souls, but also my...father. I will find him and kill him!"

"There's a well-informed informant here. I wanted to get information about my father from him, but I didn't expect the Black Spirits to still track me down," she said bitterly.

"I understand." Irving nodded calmly, without the slightest emotional fluctuation.

After wandering through the alleys for a long time, the two finally arrived at the door of a very dilapidated little inn. Natasha raised her hand and knocked five times on the tightly closed door. A gaunt old man carrying an oil lamp opened the door.

"Ah, I know you, the wanted criminal from the Black Spirit Organization." After inviting the two inside, the old man cautiously peeked out before carefully closing the door, and said in a hoarse, bellows-like voice, "What brings you here?"

"News about my father," Natasha said succinctly.

"Hehe, I just received some information the day before yesterday. What's your reward?" the old man said with a smile, his wrinkles all bunched up, only his pair of bright eyes staring greedily at the other person.

"This money is enough." Natasha tossed a bag of coins onto the table.

The old man picked up the money bag and weighed it in his hand. Then he opened the bag and carefully stroked each of the gleaming coins. Satisfied, he said, "That's quite sincere. You can take this."

As he spoke, he tossed Natasha a parchment covered in densely written secrets, saying, "You know the rules here from 'Curses and Anti-Curses,' published two years ago." He was referring to the method of interpreting the secrets.

Natasha glanced quickly at the secret message on the parchment, stuffed it into her pocket, and threatened fiercely, "If you dare to lie to me, you'll regret it!"

"I never lie," the old man said slowly and deliberately. "Remember to close the door behind you."

Natasha opened the door first, and after observing the situation outside, she went out, with Owen following closely behind. The two walked together into a side alley for a while, when suddenly several men in black cloaks rushed into the other alleyway, shouting, "Found it!"

"Can you Apparate?" Natasha asked urgently.

"No," Irving said truthfully.

Natasha placed her hand on his arm and suddenly swung her wand. With a loud "crack," amidst the roars of several dark wizards and the whooshing sounds of spells, the two figures vanished in an instant.

Irving felt as if he were being squeezed through a thick rubber tube, every part of his body being compressed, accompanied by an increasingly intense feeling of suffocation. Soon, his body relaxed, and he opened his eyes to find himself standing in an unfamiliar mountain forest.

Before Owen could catch his breath, Natasha continued Apparating. After several Apparitions, Owen felt like he was going to vomit, so she stopped, her deep red eyes warily scanning her surroundings, her hand still firmly gripping Owen's arm.

"Some of the Dark Spirits know how to track Apparitions, and I've been caught by them a few times that way," she explained to Owen, without loosening her grip on his hand.

"Okay, I should go back now," Owen said calmly, treating tonight's events as just another show.

"Where do you live? If it's not far, I can take you to your neighborhood," Natasha said. "Or I can take you to the nearest wizard's house; you can try to use their fireplace."

"Let's borrow the fireplace." Owen glanced around at the surroundings; there was a Muggle village in front of them.

Natasha simply nodded, and the two walked forward in silence. After a long while, she said in a low voice, "At your age, it's best not to misuse dark magic like the Unforgivable Curse. You're not yet an adult, your mind and magic are unstable, and you're most easily influenced by those extremely evil dark magic spells..."

"Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't use them," Owen said with a smile.

"Oh." Natasha was also a woman of few words, and continued walking forward in silence.

"It's just ahead..." After a moment, she pointed to a wooden house on the hillside. But before she could finish speaking, she exclaimed in surprise.

Owen only had time to turn his face towards her before he was pulled into a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors and carried forward at high speed by Natasha.

"The door key!" Owen exclaimed in surprise. To be wary of anyone catching up, Natasha hadn't removed her hand from Owen's arm, so she could apparite away at any time. Little did she expect that she would be dragged along with him now.

As soon as he felt solid ground beneath his feet, Owen didn't even have time to open his eyes and survey his surroundings before quickly casting the Ironclad Charm on himself. His choice was correct; a spell whistled towards him, but the Ironclad Charm firmly blocked it.

His vision finally returned, and he found himself and Natasha standing in a room that resembled a conference room, surrounded by black stone walls and stone chairs. A group of wizards in black cloaks surrounded them, emitting cruel and mocking laughter.

"Look who's here? Our cunning little Natasha is back." A black-robed sorcerer standing on a high platform said in a hoarse voice, his English dry and awkward, sounding very unproficient. His cloak was noticeably more ornate, with a turquoise pattern printed on his chest, presumably the emblem of this organization.

"Triff!" Natasha angrily raised her wand at him and threw the parchment she had bought from the information broker to the ground. "Pah, it's a Portkey!"

Owen silently observed the dark wizards around him, his brows slowly furrowing.

(End of this chapter)