A ruined Hogwarts

On Sunday morning, not many people came to the auditorium for breakfast early in the morning. The owls still diligently pass through the open windows and deliver letters to everyone's hands.

Owen opened the package sent back from home, first took out the letter stuffed in the package and read it.

The letter from Mr. Albert Shafiq reads:

"Owen, the salted grass seeds you want and the salty agent they produce are all in the package. If they are not enough, contact your Uncle Mike directly and he will send them to you. Also, you don't have to worry about such small things in the future. Find me and write directly to Mike. As long as they are not very rare herbs, he can send them to you."

"I hope you can learn more about Potions from Severus. As long as you take the initiative, you can always find a lot of private goods from him. You can practice Potions freely. In the shop There are a lot of herbs. I asked Mike not to provide you with finished potions. Of course, if you can convince him, I have no objection..."

Seeing this, Owen curled his lips. Mike is an old subordinate of the Shafiq family. He is responsible for running the family's largest potion store - the Miracle Potion Store. He is famous for being stubborn and unable to get in or out. Of course, he is also very loyal.

He continued to read the letter: "...As for Occlumency, it is quite reasonable for it to be listed as a forbidden technique. I am afraid that you will practice blindly and become an idiot. I don't think you need to learn Occlumency at your current age, even if Your theoretical knowledge is quite solid... I sent you a book of spells. Some of the little spells on it are very interesting. I believe you will like it..."

Owen quickly browsed the contents at the back, took out an old spell book with a black cover from the package, and flipped through the catalog. It contains some daily functional spells, jinxes and poisonous spells, and finally there are a few small black magic spells. Of course, they are the simplest and relatively harmless ones, with the same effect as the previous ones. Some poison spells are about the same.

This book is good in every way, except that it's not the one Irving needs.

Owen stuffed the spell book into his bag and couldn't help but rub his eyebrows. His dad is always in a superposition of reliability and unreliability, which is really nerve-wracking...

"Since we can't have the idea of ​​collecting books at home, we can only find time to sneak into the restricted book area." He finished the last mouthful of porridge and made a pointed distinction from the noisy discussion at the Gryffindor table. News came out about the Mantra Fax Machine.

The fax machine that Owen had been looking for for a long time did not appear in the main castle last night. Instead, it was found in a boys' bathroom in Gryffindor Tower. A boy who had confirmed the authenticity of the fax machine was talking vividly about last night's events. experience.

"I asked Professor Snape why he didn't wash his hair," the boy said with a smile, "Guess what?"

"What's the matter?" A low and cold voice sounded in his ears, and Snape stood behind him silently like a ghost, with greasy black hair hanging on both sides of his sallow cheeks. The boy was so frightened that he couldn't breathe, and his head fell into the bowl of porridge in front of him.

Under that invisible but condensed and oppressive aura, the Gryffindor students were trembling with fear. Even Owen, who was watching from a distance, felt that overwhelming black energy was coming out from behind Professor Snape.

"Twenty points will be deducted from Gryffindor for disrespecting the professor." Snape stared at the other person condescendingly, and then glanced around with his empty and cold eyes. The still lively atmosphere in the auditorium suddenly dropped to freezing point, and even the sound of people's breathing disappeared.

Until the end, Owen and the other little wizards could not get the answer to this question. The boy was carried away by Professor Snape's necktie. He looked pitifully trembling like a chicken waiting to be slaughtered.

"He will be silenced, he will definitely..." Blaise looked at the man as if he saw a real warrior.

Harry watched this scene absently, but what he was thinking about was who was most likely to have tampered with the Sorting Hat... If that person was in Hogwarts, the biggest suspect seemed to be Professor Snape?

But it doesn't make sense. Although the dean looks lukewarm towards everyone, he has high hopes for him... But the look of disgust when the dean looks at him seems real...

After hearing the news he needed, Owen walked out of the auditorium carrying the seeds in the package, which was what he promised to give to Mr. Filch. Although he knew that Filch would be difficult to use after learning that the fax machine appeared during the curfew, Owen had no intention of breaking his promise.

Mr. Filch has been very proud these days, and even Mrs. Norris's posture is much more arrogant when patrolling the corridors. Probably because they had been waiting to catch many Hufflepuff students these days and sent them to solitary confinement one by one. This was a very comfortable thing for Mr. Castle Administrator.

After Owen handed the things to the other party, he "accidentally" mentioned that many students in Gryffindor College had recently imitated Hufflepuff and went out for night walks. Then he found an empty classroom and sat down, carefully considering his words. He wrote three letters in a row and recited a unique magic spell on them.

"Well, if you want to send a letter to a ghost, just use this magic spell." Owen read the letters again, then folded them carefully, sealed them in a black hard envelope, and went to the Owlery to mail the letters. Got out.

For the next time, Owen was immersed in the wall-facing space, practicing spells and transformations, quietly waiting for the night to come.

…

Before nine o'clock in the evening, Owen put on a warm black cloak with silver buttons and came to the classroom on the far right side of the basement floor of the castle.

It's colder here than deeper underground. The air seems to be filled with cold lake water, and even the candlelights on both sides of the corridor glow an eerie blue.

As Owen gradually approached his destination, his breath had condensed into white water vapor in the air, as if it had entered a refrigerator.

Silver-white ghosts flew past him one after another. Some would look at him curiously, while others were not interested. When Owen came to the door of the underground classroom, he saw Ms. Gray in a gorgeous robe floating there waiting for him.

"Good evening, Ms. Grey, I hope I'm not late," Owen said politely.

"Just right." Ms. Gray nodded reservedly and motioned to him towards the closed classroom door.

"Locked." Owen watched the ghosts pass directly through the wall. He pulled out his wand and said "Open the Alaho Hole." The door lock clicked open, Owen pushed the door open, and dozens of silver-white heads in the classroom looked over.

"This is a meeting place for ghosts, lost little ones," said the fat monk of Hufflepuff in a lively tone.

"Good evening, Fat Friar. I think maybe we can add one more living person to the party tonight?" Owen made a "please" gesture to Ms. Gray next to him, and then followed him through the door.