I, Hogwarts Week Two

Chapter 532: End of Semester (Happy Children's Day)

"It's not that bad, kid." Dumbledore said gently, and he quickly extracted the most urgent points from the history that Owen said. "At least we now know that the Outer Gods can be defeated. As for the Supreme Will, it may not still be watching us."

Dumbledore's words caused Owen to fall into a brief silence.

Because what he said was right. The Supreme Will was not necessarily watching them.

Like the unspeakable things in most stories.

Tens of thousands of years have passed. If the [Supreme Will] had been watching them all along, Owen didn't believe that this world could have lasted that long.

But this feeling was very bad and made him very uncomfortable.

Before this, although he lived in a daze, at least at that time, the road ahead was clear. The silver moon shone on a dark path, but it was just leading to death, which was no big deal. He was not afraid of death. On the contrary, for a person who could live a second life, every breath he took was a victory. But if he was facing something indescribable, he would be transformed into a non-self. On the road to death, filled with strange monsters, taking the opportunity to eat his soul. This was absolutely unacceptable to Owen.

"Maybe, we can only pray." Owen said indifferently.

In the office, the flickering amber light of the candle suddenly trembled, as if something ominous had broken in.

The light shone on the boy's pale, delicate face. He had a high nose, long eyelashes, and contoured cheeks. They didn't look sharp, but they looked very three-dimensional. Cuibi's eyes were like gems, and through them you could see a kind of lingering smoke swirling. He had a good figure, not fat or thin, and his slim-fitting clothes made him look elegant. He had an elegant and lazy temperament. And this was the strange thing. Obviously, the boy should be panicked or terrified at this moment, but you couldn't see a trace of it from him. He stood there, as perfect as if he had been sculpted by the greatest artist. The fierce collision between temperament and reality gave people an indescribable sense of disharmony.

The air became heavy.

Dumbledore had noticed this long ago.

He and Grindelwald had talked about it.

If the power of the foreign gods in the Tower of Divine Granting is continuously gathered on one person, will it create something terrible?

At least after the [Battle of Poseidon] in Italy, the child hasn't shown anything unusual.

So he didn't pay any more attention to it at that time.

The wizarding world was undergoing tremendous changes, and he didn't have the energy to pay attention to these seemingly ridiculous things.

But after the Brazil incident, anyone with a discerning eye could see that a change had occurred in the boy, a subtle change that was only very subtle at first, but after last summer vacation, this change became unconcealable.

Miss Granger had discussed this issue with him a few months ago. He didn't think it was wrong at the time. Even ordinary magic would have an impact on wizards, not to mention the magic of the Outer Gods.

This is still manageable, just as Owen himself thought. Merlin's plan is not complicated, and he and Grindelwald can both think of the ultimate goal. To deal with a god, you have to use the power of God, and there is nothing wrong with this logic.

But now it's different.

A new enemy appears, coming from the other side of the stars. Although its eyes may not be on this place at the moment, what about in the final battle? The battle to defeat the Outer God will definitely be earth-shattering. If we attract its attention at that time...

"Finally, it's about Regulus and my parents." Owen spoke again.

"They should have been exposed to the truth of history, but what happened afterwards remains a mystery. But we can guess that they might want to use ancient magic to defeat Voldemort, who was at the height of his power at that time. At least this should be Regulus's purpose. As for my parents' purpose, perhaps my grandmother knows."

"This is a mystery solved." Dumbledore said after a moment of silence, "It is not difficult to make road stones. There was also an organization called the God's Favored Cult before. Some of them should have come into contact with the truth of the city a long time ago. Maybe there are notes of their research somewhere else."

"I'm afraid that those who are favored by God may not worship a foreign God." Owen sneered, "It's getting more and more complicated. Maybe we shouldn't know so much. There's nothing wrong with living in confusion."

"Someone has to face it." The old principal sighed.

"But for those who are sober, the truth is too cruel."

"Okay." The old principal waved his hand, and his blue eyes seemed to have thousands of thoughts flashing through them. He slowly sat down on the chair and said, "At the moment, our focus is still on Tom. There is news that proves that he may have returned."

"Maybe?" Owen scoffed. "Maybe."

What would happen if he came back? After seeing the sea, one would no longer be shocked or overwhelmed by a pool of water.

Besides, what on earth was that thing that came back?

Is it a human, a ghost, or an alien god?

He had seen it clearly before, but now - who knows.

Dumbledore glanced at Owen.

He knew exactly what Irving was worried about because it was also what he was worried about.

But after Voldemort's resurrection this time, the Death Eaters' power was reshuffled, and many secret agents could no longer be deployed.

Even Snape had not contacted Voldemort for several months and had no idea what the other party was doing.

Gathering intelligence takes time, and we have to wait for Voldemort to make any big move. The current situation can only be said to be calm on the surface. As for the undercurrents beneath the lake, how can people on the shore see clearly?

Afterwards, Dumbledore discussed with him the Death Eaters and Voldemort, as well as the dark wizards who betrayed Voldemort and joined Senior Tom.

Of course, there was also the former Minister of Magic, Barty Crouch. After several months of indirect attack, Dumbledore seemed to have grasped some of his secrets. The old headmaster did not use certain means because he wanted to win him over. However, such a pull was time-limited. Owen estimated that the summer vacation was probably the last deadline for Barty Crouch.

He then left the principal's office.

Outside, even the air in the corridor was filled with ominous signs, and in his heart, it seemed that something was peeping at him from the shadows of higher dimensions.

Owen was a little impatient. He walked out of the spiral staircase and came to the door of the principal's office on the third floor. He walked in a hurry and accidentally bumped into a girl.

She was a third-year girl from Ravenclaw. Owen had seen her before. Her name seemed to be Orla Quirk, and she entered Hogwarts in the year of the Goblet of Fire.

The girl who fell to the ground got up from the ground in panic.

She looked at Owen with an unnatural expression on her face, as if she was terrified, and then she wanted to leave in a panic.

"Hey--" Owen called her. "Where is her?"

"What?" The little witch stretched out her slender hands, lifted the strands of hair from her forehead, and looked at him with uncertain eyes, "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, where did you get Orla Quirk? I'm warning you, Draco, if you run around the castle disguised as a girl again, I'll throw you out."

Owen frowned and directly read out the girl's real name.

Although the other party was almost identical to the real Ola Quirk and did not behave in any way that was out of the ordinary, he was able to tell the other party's true identity at a glance.

If you ask why, Owen would say that the magical smell of the girl in front of him is not from Ola Quirk, but from his old acquaintance Draco.

"You..." Ola Quirk immediately looked panicked. She looked at Owen in disbelief. "How did you know that? This is impossible--"

<divclass="contentadv">"Nothing is impossible." Owen was a little annoyed. "Mortals' means cannot deceive gods. Okay - you put on fake skin again, what do you want to do?"

"I," Draco paused, then continued, "I will leave Hogwarts today and leave from Hogsmeade. I must be in disguise so as not to alert anyone."

"I see." Owen said calmly, "I'm afraid of retaliation. So you've been brewing Polyjuice Potion and pretending to be someone else. Is that also your intention? To sneak out of the castle?"

"Yes," Draco said.

"Well, what about the Ora Quirks?" he asked again.

"Room of Requirement. I gave her a dose of the Water of Life and Death. It should keep her in a coma until morning."

"Well..." Owen waved his hand. He saw Hermione walking towards him. "Let's go. Don't die outside. Don't provoke Voldemort. He is no longer a human being."

Hearing the voice, Draco, who was disguised as Ola Quirk, looked at him deeply for the last time, then turned and ran away.

The direction is just outside the castle.

It seems that before he left, he heard that he had woken up, so he secretly turned back.

"I heard Draco's name." Hermione rushed over.

"Ah."

As smart as Hermione was, she realized something immediately and said, "So, that Orla Quirk, she was Draco in disguise? Polyjuice Potion? He was the one we were looking for that day?"

"It's not important--" Owen grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her into his arms.

The little witch had no time to react.

Then, her lips were covered.

A hint of sweetness seeps into your mouth.

Then came the torrent of demands.

The boy's fingers entwined with her hair. Compared to the past, the girl's shyness had been reduced by a lot. She loved him more passionately. Instead of exploring the secrets in him, she wanted to give up her reason and let herself sink. She hugged him tightly as if she would never let go for the rest of her life, telling him in this way - I love you.

Owen felt his cheeks getting wet.

It is the girl's clear eyes and the tears that cannot be contained.

He reached out and wiped away her tears.

Then he took her away.

------

Many miles away, the mist that had once lingered over the Forbidden Forest not far from Hogwarts now drifted over a dirty river. The river meandered, its banks overgrown with weeds and piles of garbage. A huge chimney, the remains of an abandoned mill, stood tall, gloomy and ominous.

There was no sound but the murmur of the dark water, and no sign of life except for a lean fox that stole down the bank and sniffed hopefully at a few fish and chip wrappers in the deep weeds.

At this moment, with a soft puff, a slender figure wearing a hood appeared out of thin air by the river. The fox was stunned, and his vigilant eyes stared at the strange new figure. The figure seemed to be getting its bearings, and after a moment, it walked forward with brisk strides, and its long cloak rustled across the grass.

There was another puff, louder than the last, and another hooded figure materialized.

"and many more!"

The fox, now almost crouching in the low brush, was terrified by the hoarse cry. It leaped out of its hiding place and ran toward the shore. There was a flash of green light, a scream, and the fox fell to the ground, dead.

The second figure kicked the fox with its toe, flipping it over.

"It turned out to be just a fox," a woman's disdainful voice came from under the hood, "I thought it was an Auror - Sissy, wait a minute!"

But the man she was chasing had only stopped to look at the flash of light.

The fox climbed back up the river bank where he had fallen.

"Cissy—Narcissa—listen to me—"

The second woman caught up with the first and grabbed her arm, but she broke free.

"Go back, Bella!"

“You have to listen to me!”

"I've heard it. I've made up my mind, so leave me alone!"

The woman named Narcissa climbed onto the riverbank, where an old railing separated the river from a narrow cobblestone lane.

The other woman, Bella, followed immediately, and they stood side by side, looking across the alley at the rows of shabby brick houses, their windows dark and lifeless in the dusk.

"He lives here?" Bella said in a contemptuous tone, "This? Muggle garbage bag, Dumbledore didn't even arrange a good home for his loyal dog."

Narcissa automatically filtered out Bella's sarcasm. She had already crawled through a hole in the rusty railing and was hurriedly crossing the alley.

"Cissy, wait a minute."

Bella followed, her cloak flowing behind her, and she saw Narcissa dart down a lane between houses and turn down another street that was almost identical.

Several street lights were broken.

The two running women were sometimes illuminated by lights and sometimes shrouded in darkness.

Just as the woman in front turned another corner, the one behind caught up with her, and this time he finally grabbed her arm and pulled her around, so that they stood face to face.

"Cissy, you shouldn't have come here. That monster has returned to England. Do you know that you are in danger now?"

"You too!" Narcissa said mercilessly.