A ruined Hogwarts

The ice-like potion penetrated the whole body, blocking out the scorching temperature of the flames. With just one step, the two passed through the black flames unscathed and entered a huge room. The room was very empty, with only a familiar mirror standing in the center of the room.

"Mirror of Erised?" Harry said in surprise.

"It seems like the mystery of this room is here, let's go and have a look." Owen said easily. He quickly approached the magic mirror, and Harry followed behind him with a wary look on his face, his eyes still scanning around the empty room.

Standing in front of the mirror, Owen calmly stared at the scene in the magic mirror. The Mirror of Erised faithfully presents him with his most urgent desire now - to obtain the Philosopher's Stone. But he can't get it.

Harry was stunned for a moment. He saw himself smiling mysteriously at him in the mirror and put a bright red stone into his pocket. At the same time, he also felt a slight weight in his pocket, as if something had really been put into it.

"What did you see?" Owen suddenly turned his head and tilted his head towards him.

Harry looked instinctively into his pocket.

"Judging from your expression, you must have gotten the Philosopher's Stone?" Owen suddenly approached him, with a meaningful smile on his lips, "Let me guess, it must be in your pocket!"

Harry watched blankly as Owen put his right hand into his pocket and took out the bright red stone.

"Ha, it's here as expected." Owen passed the bright red stone from his left hand to his right hand, then threw it up high, took it in his hand, looked at it, and then handed it to Harry.

"Can you read minds?" Harry joked nonchalantly, and then took the Philosopher's Stone from Owen's open hand. He turned it over and over curiously, then breathed a sigh of relief and said, "We have found it. Let's go back quickly."

"Of course, it seems I didn't play any role." Owen said with a leisurely smile.

"How come, thank you for accompanying me..."

The two came to the black flame together. Harry carefully tested it with the corner of his clothes. After finding that it was harmless, he passed through the flame with his eyes closed. Owen followed him, always with a faint smile on his face.

"Harry, Owen, you are back!"

"So fast! Did you succeed?"

In the room where the potions were placed, several people quickly gathered around, shouting at the two of them.

Harry shook the bright red stone in his hand and grinned: "I found the Sorcerer's Stone!"

"Can I take a look?" Draco looked at the stone with burning eyes. This is the legendary magic stone. Others also cast extremely curious glances.

"Of course." Harry handed the stone in his hand to Draco.

Draco couldn't put it down and played with the red stone in his hand, shaking it vigorously. He thought about writing a letter to his father when he got back, maybe his father could get the Philosopher's Stone. Dumbledore unscrupulously brought danger into the school and deserved to be taught a lesson.

"The big deal is, we'll share the benefits equally with Harry and Owen." He was already thinking about how to divide the spoils. As for Hermione and Neville? Go aside!

With Hermione staring at him as if to guard against a thief, Draco snorted with dissatisfaction, reluctantly returned the Sorcerer's Stone to Harry, and said slowly: "This is magic. Stone? It doesn’t look like a big deal."

"I don't know...it doesn't look like it has any magic power." Hermione also took the Sorcerer's Stone and studied it for a while, then handed it to Neville.

"That's how it looked when I got it," Harry said. "It can't be fake, right?"

"I don't know, these powerful alchemical creations are just ordinary." Draco returned to his old ways and said in a arrogant tone.

"Okay, let's go back quickly." Harry took the Philosopher's Stone handed back by Neville, carefully put it back into his pocket, and then picked up the large bottle of potion he needed to drink to return the way he came.

The group drank the potion and passed through the purple flames blocking their way without incident, passed by the room where the troll was unconscious, passed through the chessboard and key array without any hindrance, and arrived at the room where the devil's net was entrenched.

The devil's net waved its vine tentacles lively, lifting their bodies up and sending the group back to the trap door. Harry quickly played a flute and made the ferocious three-headed dog fall asleep again.

"Defend from the outside but not from the inside? What an interesting setting." Owen followed everyone out of the door, looked back and took a deep look, and then left the restricted corridor.

"You have figured it out." Daphne and Blaise came over and breathed a sigh of relief. Then they said solemnly: "There was a fire in the Forbidden Forest just now. The fire was very strong. I'm afraid the professors have all gone to put out the fire... "

Everyone was looking in the direction of the Forbidden Forest through the windows. At this moment, the depths of the black jungle were already burning with fire, and the raging flames seemed to dye the dark sky orange.

"The people from the Aether Society are about to take action." Harry said nervously and excitedly, "But we have succeeded in advance!"

"How dare they burn the Forbidden Forest?" Hermione pursed her lips tightly, then nodded to Harry, dragged Neville upstairs, and said: "We should go back to the lounge, tonight. Don’t come out again, bye.”

"Okay, let's meet again another day." Harry asked everyone to go down the stairs.

Owen did not follow. He stared at the flames in the distance quietly, with no expression on his face. The flickering firelight reflected in his dark eyes, giving his pupils a more violent and strange color.

"You guys go back first, I have to go to the library." He said softly.

"Owen, can't you go another day? It's dangerous tonight." Daphne sighed. Others were not surprised, because Owen often used the excuse of sneaking into the forbidden book area to sneak out in the middle of the night.

Harry also felt helpless and gave some advice, but he also knew that his persuasion was of no use. In his opinion, Irving is like this. He accepts teachings with an open mind, but then refuses to change and goes his own way.

"Okay, be careful, don't come near this place again." Harry warned him over and over again like a mother, and then hurried to the common room with his companions.

Owen quietly listened to their footsteps going down the stairs until they could no longer be heard. He walked through the corridor for a moment, then returned to the restricted corridor on the fourth floor and watched Melete jump out of an empty room dragging a black suitcase that was much larger than her body.

"Thank you, Melete, my assistant." Owen knelt down and took the suitcase handle that Melete was biting, smiling softly and stroking the kitten's head. Melete rubbed his palm with squinted eyes, then stared at his cheek quietly with her wide golden eyes.

Owen stood up with his suitcase in hand. As he turned his hand, a bright red stone appeared in his hand.

Magic stone!

Once something passes through the hands of a magician, who can guarantee that it will still be the same thing?

As early as Owen took the Philosopher's Stone out of Harry's pocket, he had replaced it right under Harry's nose. Although magical items such as the Philosopher's Stone are difficult to copy with a copying spell, it doesn't mean that Owen can't prepare a replacement in advance.

Owen had made the fake more than a month ago. Although he had never seen the Philosopher's Stone, some reference books had a general introduction to the Philosopher's Stone, although it was not very detailed. Irving only needs to make several fake magic stones of different materials, weights, and shapes in advance, and then replace them with the most similar fake after comparing them with the real ones.

Harry didn't actually see or touch the real Philosopher's Stone with his own eyes. He only took a glimpse of it in the Mirror of Erised. How could he remember the details of the Philosopher's Stone clearly? He would only think that what Owen took out of his pocket and returned to him was the real Philosopher's Stone, after all, Owen's movements did not leave his sight the whole time.

Those young wizards who have heard about the Philosopher's Stone will become witnesses to prove that the Philosopher's Stone that Harry took out is like this, and they can also help reduce Owen's suspicion, although Owen's suspicion is not high in the first place.

"The Sorcerer's Stone..." Owen stroked the stone in his hand with a half-smile, a playful look in his eyes.

The magic stone looks like just an ordinary red stone, with a slightly transparent bright red color as a whole, and the inside seems to be filled with rich blood. The smooth surface does not appear cold, but has a slight warmth.

Owen looked at it carefully, then quickly put a magical paper "coat" on the magic stone, and then handed it to Melete. Melete bit the magic stone, raised her tail and swung it gracefully, then jumped into Owen's open suitcase.

"Then, the time for the children is over, and now it's the adults' games." Owen picked up the suitcase and walked towards the door of the restricted corridor with a smile.

…

The hands of the clock had already pointed to nine o'clock in the evening, and the flames in the Forbidden Forest had not yet been suppressed. The fire light lit up half of the sky, like a gorgeous and grand bonfire party. Thick streams of water visible to the naked eye flew into the fire from all directions, trying hard to prevent the spread of the fire. This was the efforts of the professors.

"Is Quirrell such a tough guy to set fire to the Forbidden Forest?" Well, he dared to break into Gringotts alone, and it didn't seem strange to occasionally burn the Forbidden Forest.

Owen stood by the window and watched the scene with a smile, and at the same time, he was counting the time silently, until some hurried footsteps came up the stairs, getting closer and closer.

He turned around to face the approaching figure, his dark eyes were bottomless, the corners of his mouth were slightly raised, and he said in a calm and soothing tone: "Good evening, Professor Quirrell, you are three minutes late."

The hurried figure was wearing a black robe, and the black wizard's hat on his head was held low, only half of his pale and thin face was exposed. He was breathing heavily and looked like he was about to collapse when a gust of wind blew. Similar.

"All the professors are busy putting out the fire, we have enough time." Quirrell glanced at Owen with a gloomy look. The little wizard in front of him just stood there quietly, still looking harmless, but the smile on his face was no longer the harmless and slightly naughty bright smile of the past, but a quiet and deep smile that seemed to With a hint of ridicule, the dim light and shadow around him cast a layer of dark aura that was so rich that it couldn't be removed.

Ever since his physical condition began to take a turn for the worse and he had to rely on the blood of unicorns, Quirrell's spirit was on the verge of collapse under the tremendous psychological pressure, and he seemed to be crazy about risking everything. But facing the little wizard in front of him, he still didn't dare to be too big, and he was even extremely vigilant.

No one knew better than him what terrible guidance the Dark Lord gave to the little wizard in front of him. He was burdened with the crime of murder at a young age. Coupled with the influence and erosion of black magic, he could not imagine what the other person's heart would be like. How twisted. But there is no doubt that this seemingly normal little wizard has definitely become a crazy guy, and even more so because of his young age.

Owen naturally didn't know what Quirrell was thinking about, so he just nodded slightly, slowly clasped his hands in front of him, and asked calmly: "Where is Professor Snape?"

"I'm afraid he's following 'me' around Knockturn Alley." Quirrell sneered, not hiding his pride and disdain.

"Okay, so are you sure Dumbledore won't come back halfway?" Owen slowly took out his recorder, tilted his head and looked at it for a moment, then pointed his wand at it and chanted the transformation spell, turning it into a human being. A deep black violin.

Owen loved music in his previous life, and his favorite and best instrument was the violin. He thought it would be better to use the violin next time.

"Dumbledore went to the United States. Even if he learned the news here, he would not be able to come back in time." Quirrell squinted at Owen's actions.

"How did you influence the decision-making of the International Federation of Wizards?" Owen asked curiously, and the two entered the restricted corridor together.

"I just recited the Imperius Curse to a representative of a country I met by chance during the holidays. It is not difficult as long as it is unexpected. I learned a lot of information from him, including his plan to impeach Dumbledore... I just asked him to mention it in advance." Quirrell said calmly.

"Then other people who had already thought about it responded and pushed naturally, and things naturally became like this." Owen nodded clearly and gently plucked the strings with his fingertips.

"Tsk, the tone is not accurate, it's a bit uncomfortable." He murmured. The tone of the transformed violin is a little inaccurate, but it seems that there is no time to tune it now, because the door with the three-headed dog is close at hand.

Quirrell raised the wand in his hand and pointed it at the door in front of him. Owen looked away from his violin and said softly: "Have you really thought about it, Professor Quirrell? It's not too late to turn around and leave now."

Quirrell's hand froze, and then he said in a gloomy tone: "It's too late, I have no choice, and neither do you."

Owen looked at him with deep eyes, and suddenly smiled, looking peaceful and beautiful. He said in a clear and deep voice: "Maybe." Then you have no chance.

The door slowly opened, facing the angry roar of the three-headed dog. Owen put the violin on his shoulder and elegantly played Mozart's "Requiem", and the quiet and solemn melody slowly floated.

As the first line of the Requiem libretto expresses: Lord, please grant them eternal rest.

The three-headed dog slowly fell down amid the melodious music, closed its eyes again and fell into a deep sleep. The two men jumped into the hole in the trap door and fell downward in the cold air.

Owen's figure was suddenly enveloped in ominous black mist in mid-air, and his light black cloak floated behind him, like black bat wings spreading out. His rapidly falling body slowly froze in mid-air, and then glided down silently and gracefully after chasing another falling figure. He watched as the other party exerted a shock-absorbing and speed-stopping spell on himself, and finally fell into complete darkness.

Owen was quietly suspended in mid-air, staring at the figure hidden in the darkness from above. Under the tall black top hat, the raised white corners of his mouth seemed to be teasing all living beings.

With a slight "plop" sound, Owen knew that the opponent had landed. It was dark all around, and there was no light in the room except for a small spot of light at the entrance above.

"Professor Quirrell, how are you?" Owen asked after lighting his wand. His voice seemed cold and hollow, turning into layers of echoes in the room.

"Devil's Net, it's just a little trick." The other party's voice came, and then blazing flames rose into the sky, dispelling the surrounding darkness.

Under the swaying orange firelight, the devil's net spread on the ground quickly twisted and retracted, avoiding the light and heat of the flames. At the same time, the entire room was displayed in front of their eyes.

In addition to the black devil's nets growing on the slippery ground, there are also some fiery-red pitcher plant-like plants scattered here and there. Under the light of the fire, these "nepenthes" begin to rapidly redden and swell. , some even started to emit sparks and smoke. There were exquisite murals carved on the surrounding slippery walls. As the devil's net clinging to it quickly shrunk, the vines also uprooted several plants with green leaves and human-shaped roots. They hung in the air like dolls on a sunny day. Swaying.

"Nightfire and mandrake, damn it!" Quirrell hurriedly extinguished his own flame, but it was too late.

Nightweed is a plant that lives in the dark like a devil's net, exploding violently when exposed to light, and the mandrake's cry is deadly.

Owen extinguished his lighting spell in an instant, and while flying high into the sky, he put on the enchanted earplugs in advance. As soon as he completed his action, a crackling explosion began. The darkened ground was flooded by violent firelight, and the red smoke rising around him carried a pungent smell.

At the same time, the uprooted mandrake cried loudly, and the shrill and sharp cries echoed and overlapped in the closed room, making Owen, who was wearing earplugs, feel dizzy.

"This is your first greeting from me. I wonder if you are satisfied, Professor?" Owen whispered softly to himself amidst the piercing cry, with the corners of his mouth raised happily, "The breakthrough just now was too childish, this is like an adult. It’s a game.”

That's right, this is not Dumbledore's level, but Owen's level.

They only need to put the suitcase with the infinite extension spell into the hole of the trap door in advance and get it stuck somewhere in the passage. During the fall, they will only reach the inside of the box.

And here is the stage that Irving spent more than half a year carefully building.

Owen couldn't sneak into the trap door and make his own arrangements under Dumbledore's nose, and it was too late to do it tonight, so he directly changed the battlefield and set the game on his home court.

The charm of magic is that a magician will spend months, a year or even ten years preparing to perform a charming trick on the audience.

"So, welcome to Owen's happy magic house." Owen announced calmly.