A ruined Hogwarts

"It was a dark and stormy night when the Heir of Slytherin was about to carry out his evil plan," Hufflepuff's Ernie Macmillan vividly told his friends in the Great Hall. Two little wizards, a boy and a girl, left..."

"Why did he want to arrest them?" Hannah Abbott asked with excitement and gossip.

"Because Shafiq and Weasley are both friends of Harry Potter." Ernie said without hesitation, "I admit that we wrongly blamed Harry before. He is not the heir of Slytherin, but has been tracing The heir hero..."

At this point, he lowered his voice and almost mouthed: "It is said that the real heir is a mysterious man!"

The little wizards around him looked at him in horror and were silent for a while.

Seeing the reactions of his friends, Ernie raised his chin with satisfaction and continued: "Of course, it's not the real mysterious man. I heard that he left behind a very evil and terrifying black magic item. That item can Control others and let them cause trouble in the school, which is how Ron Weasley was killed before."

The little wizards who listened carefully were relieved, but also felt extremely scared.

"Then, Harry Potter found the heir and had a duel with him and the monsters in the Chamber of Secrets in the Forbidden Forest. The duel was so fierce that the aftermath of the battle almost turned the Forbidden Forest upside down... ..." Ernie kept telling the story as if he was there at the time, "In the end, Harry defeated the heir and rescued his friends, but he was seriously injured..."

"Harry Potter is really that powerful?" Justin Finch-Fletchley leaned over and muttered.

"Didn't you see his performance in the duel? He is guaranteed to win the second grade championship!"

A group of young wizards made exclamations and stretched their necks to look at the Slytherin table.

Harry lowered the pointed wizard hat on his head, swallowed his dinner hastily with a stinky face, and then walked dejectedly out of the Great Hall with eyes that seemed to burn through his back.

Ever since Dumbledore announced to everyone in the Great Hall that the crisis of succession had been resolved by Harry Potter, the alert that had lasted for several months in the school was finally lifted. The little wizards, who had been holding back for a long time, began to enjoy night walks and mischief, which suddenly doubled the workload of the castle administrator Mr. Filch. He could be heard cursing and shouting every day.

The most talked about thing among students is Harry Potter's legendary deeds of defeating the heir. During the two days that Harry was in coma, his deeds became known to everyone, causing a lot of discussion among young wizards. The students gave full play to their imagination and added to the original monotonous story, enriching it with countless thrilling details. It was so thrilling that it could be written into a fantasy adventure novel.

The young wizards admired the Boy Who Lived even more, and those students who suspected that he was the heir also apologized to him and expressed their disapproval of him. Harry has once again become the absolute focus of everyone's attention, and his ardent fan Colin Creevey has sneaked into the school hospital in various ways in the past two days, eager to put his idol into his camera.

Harry felt that he had been smeared, or it was Dumbledore and Owen who jointly smeared him. But he couldn't explain in detail because neither Owen nor Dumbledore wanted him to reveal the truth. Besides, no one believed him even if he explained it. Others thought he was too modest!

So, after walking out of the campus hospital, he had to face a large group of young wizards greeting and talking about him one after another. All kinds of harassment continued for the whole day and continued into the evening. The professors also greeted him enthusiastically, but Harry only felt more uncomfortable. He felt that he had taken the credit from Owen, and that all this should not belong to him alone.

Only Professor Snape's usual cynicism could make him feel a little warmer. Even if he mocked him for half the class for his stupid behavior that almost cost him his life in Potions class, Harry felt that this was at least better than those compliments and Worship is better.

Harry quickly finished his dinner without any taste, and dragged Owen away who was slowly eating pastries with a tigerish face.

"Hey, I haven't finished my dessert yet." Owen looked at his honey cake reluctantly and licked his lips with the tip of his tongue.

Are you still in the mood for dessert? You picked yourself up cleanly and left all the trouble to me! Harry looked at him angrily.

Seeing his resentful eyes, Owen coughed lightly and looked away as if nothing had happened.

Back in the common room, Owen could finally curl up in his armchair and warm himself by the fire. Meleta lay comfortably on his knees, narrowing her golden eyes and wagging her long tail intermittently.

Nicks was running back and forth on the table in high spirits, flapping his feathered wings like a arrogant goose. Now it is still growing up rapidly, and has begun to outgrow its embarrassing appearance. Smooth black feathers gradually cover its body, reflecting bright light under the light.

In view of the fact that Knicks's appearance is getting better and better, Irving's attitude towards it is getting better and better.

Perhaps because of the magical fusion with Nyx's blood, the unruly Dark Phoenix has become closer to Owen these days. The change shown is that he is more obedient and does not always cause trouble to Owen, such as knocking over bottles and jars, scratching Owen's robe, burning Owen's sheets, etc.

Of course, it still likes to chase and play with Melete at all times, often beating cats and birds until fluff flies everywhere. And I like to burn something from time to time, such as Draco and Harry's homework books. Well, those are small things.

Owen squinted his eyes lazily, addicted to playing with the cat. After a hearty performance, he entered a period of satisfied fatigue and was so lazy that he didn't even want to move.

Harry stood in front of his cauldron with a serious face, flipping through a potions book and adding herbs to the cauldron. The pointed hat on his head was pushed very low, and the potion in the pot was emitting strange green bubbles, which reflected his face under the brim of the hat in a green color, making him look like an evil wizard brewing poison.

Owen wrinkled his nose because of the unpleasant smell coming from the crucible, opened his sleepy eyes and looked over, and asked in a hoarse voice: "What are you doing?"

"Hair restorer!" Harry said with a straight face, without taking his eyes off the potion in the cauldron. "I think I made it successfully."

"Really?" Owen curiously looked over and sighed, "Wow, you are really versatile. I thought you had to ask Professor Snape for it."

"This isn't some complicated potion..." Harry said angrily, "There's no need to go to Professor Snape." He couldn't imagine that situation. Was he going to knock on the door of the Dean's office? With that serious and gloomy face, he said: I'm sorry, professor, can you give me some hair restorer?

He hurriedly put the embarrassing scene of digging his toes out of his mind, neatly packed the potion in the crucible, looked around furtively, and then took the potion and ran away.

Nyx secretly followed him out of curiosity. After a while, he ran back swaying and chirping, his black beak wide open, and it looked like he was about to laugh.

"What's wrong?" Owen picked up Nyx, who was laughing so hard that his paws were twitching, and raised the corners of his mouth under the influence of the strong smile that came into his mind.

Then a picture came to his mind: Harry stood in front of the mirror and carefully applied the potion on his head, and then the shiny black hair exploded into the sky, engulfing his whole body. The length can be compared with Rapunzel.

"Well, at least his hair tonic is really useful, isn't it?" Owen finally couldn't help but chuckle.

A large group of people poured into the lounge, and the noise broke the peace here. People gathered around Owen, asking all kinds of questions like a hundred ducks, making him raise his eyebrows in annoyance.

Owen rolled his eyes and raised his hand to point in the direction of Harry: "I don't know anything very well. Just ask Harry, he's over there."

People swarmed over, and silence finally returned here. Owen yawned and wished Harry good luck in his heart.

Daphne did not join in the fun, but sat gracefully on the chair next to her, looking over with curious and meaningful eyes: "Harry really saved you?"

"Of course." Owen said with a smile, "He is really brave."

After chatting with Daphne for a few words, he changed to a more comfortable position, lazily closed his eyes, and entered the space facing the wall.

After staying idle for a while in the misty space, he finally chose to continue lazily, sitting at the table and feeding vegetables to the rabbit.

Just as he was about to leave the wall-facing space, Owen accidentally caught a glimpse of the shabby diary he had casually placed beside the table. He blinked, flipping through the diary, staring at the yellowed blank pages.

After a long time, he picked up the quill pen inserted in the ink bottle, gently scratched his lips with the feather, and then raised the pen to randomly draw a heart-shaped pattern on the diary.

Under his gaze, the pattern drawn in ink slowly disappeared, and a line of scrawled handwriting emerged: "What did you do to me?"

Owen was stunned for a moment, and his eyes suddenly lit up, like a few lights lighting up in the endless night sky.

He just had a sudden idea to try drawing something in his diary, but he didn't expect an unexpected surprise.

Without receiving a reply from Owen, writing continued to appear on the diary: "Why did my connection with the main soul disappear? How could you isolate the higher-level soul connection between us?"

"No, I remember my diary was destroyed."

"Where is this?"

"You repaired me? Impossible! Can you come back from the dead?"

"..."

The handwriting on the diary is getting more and more scrawled, showing the diary owner's chaotic and collapsed thoughts. As the ink is consumed, the handwriting becomes lighter and fainter, becoming increasingly unclear.

"Is this okay?" Owen was also shocked.

He looked at the rabbit jumping around on the table. The diary was in the same situation as it, but Owen still felt a little dreamy: "Resurrection from the dead? Is it a copy or resurrection?"

"Wall-facing space...thinking space...what exactly are you?"

Owen muttered to himself with divergent eyes. Maybe once he understands the secret of the wall-facing space, he can really come back from the dead.

After a long time, until the diary finally quieted down, Owen wrote in it: "Welcome to my world, Tom."

The diary was silent for a while, and then the writing appeared: "Tell me, how did you do it? What else are you going to do to me?"

"Your diary has indeed been destroyed, Tom." Owen wrote slowly and gracefully.

“…I don’t think I cease to exist.”

"But you are no longer the original you." Owen raised his lips playfully, "You are just a copy now."

"..." Tom didn't reply.

"Do you hate me, Tom?" Owen continued.

"..." No writing appeared on the diary, but the answer was obviously yes.

"But you shouldn't hate me, because I created you. You are a brand new existence and have nothing to do with the original Voldemort. No, it should be said that you will definitely be enemies, because no one wants to see the world Do you think there is a replica that has the same thoughts as me?"

"..." Tom said nothing, but the answer was still yes. If there is such a despicable copycat version of himself, he will try his best to kill him as soon as possible, at any cost! But when he thought that the counterfeit product was him, he couldn't calm down.

"You see, you and Voldemort are enemies, and Voldemort and I are also enemies. The enemy of our enemies is our friend, right?" Owen wrote with a smile, "Actually, I have always been very sorry. We could have been friends. We have similar interests. We are congenial and understand each other, right? I think we can continue to get along harmoniously from now on."

"..." Tom didn't want to speak, he just felt sick and confused.

"Look at it, my friend. In a sense, you should be happy about this." Irving wrote calmly, "Your story is not over yet, and our chapter will continue."

"Most importantly, you are free."

"You can be a different version of yourself, Tom."

Without waiting for Tom's answer, Owen closed the diary with a "snap" sound, with a strange expression on his face and a hint of joking. He put the diary away carefully, holding his chin with one hand and lost in thought.

The mist floats hazily in the white mist space and remains unchanged forever. The motionless boy seemed to turn into an eternal statue. (End of chapter)