I, Hogwarts Second Week

Just when Owen was about to take down Furong, he suddenly saw two familiar figures walking towards the Rose Covered Bridge in the distance.

It should be Dumbledore and Madame Maxime who were attracted by the thunder.

Turning his head, he looked at the surrounding grassland that was 'strewn with corpses', as well as Fu Rong, who was breathing heavily with a look of fear and anger.

"Uh--I went too far!"

Owen suddenly felt a little flustered.

But that was just a slight pang of conscience that suddenly emerged when he returned to his hometown.

He glanced down at the wand in his hand, then at Fleur.

Then I immediately had some thoughts in my heart.

Then, with Fleur's shocked eyes, Owen suddenly threw the wand in his hand towards her.

Then he patted his chest.

Gray petrified light instantly enveloped him.

Then in Fleur's beautiful blue eyes, Owen's legs stared, screamed "Ah" and fell straight to the grass.

? ? ?

Fleur, who didn't know why, subconsciously caught Owen's wand. Then he looked at the 'corpse' lying on the ground with doubtful eyes.

? ? ?

What happened?

Why did he want the wand thrown to him?

In the wizarding world, handing over a wand is a very shameful and lowly gesture. Only those who have their wands taken away by them are rarely surrendered on their own initiative.

For wizards, the wand is their second life.

A wizard would value a wand more than a girlfriend.

At the European Wizarding Duel Conference. Taking the initiative to give up the wand means that the other party completely surrenders and admits defeat.

People generally call duelists who would rather die than surrender and hold on to the magic spell heroes.

And wizards who take the initiative to hand over magic spells and bow to pray for defeat are called cowards.

As for Fleur, she couldn't figure out why the French traitor in front of her, who could defeat more than a dozen of their wizards at once, surrendered to her.

This is not logical!

Of course, this question didn't bother her for long.

Because soon, the principal she was most familiar with, the one with a handsome olive face and wearing black satin clothes, appeared in front of her.

Madame Maxime stood side by side with Professor Dumbledore.

Her big, dark, watery eyes looked around quickly.

His eyes passed over the Quidditch players lying on the ground, then Owen who was petrified, and finally Fleur, whose hair was scattered and her eyebrows were full of doubts.

"Fleur!" Madame Maxime's voice had never been so stern.

The beautiful young lady was startled by this sound, and then when she came back to her senses, she almost immediately understood Owen's abnormal behavior just now.

"Professor, I'm not, I didn't, it was him -"

"That's enough!" Madam Maxime stared at Fleur, her face showing disappointment that Fleur had never seen before, "You disappoint me so much."

"How could you treat Beauxbatons' guest like this! And he is only a thirteen-year-old child! You actually attack a student younger than you?"

"No -" Fleur still wanted to defend, but the angry Madame Maxime lost her patience, "No matter what the purpose, it is really shameful to bully the small with the big!"

"Besides, I remember I told you the truth about the incident in England." Mrs. Maxim's voice was lonely and low.

After that incident happened, she almost immediately found the young wizard involved and asked them what happened.

At that time, the little Beauxbatons wizard who had been beaten up by Owen was still very conscious, and they told the principal exactly what happened.

Nothing was deceived.

Although Mrs. Maxim was very angry with the rude little Hogwarts wizard, the fact was that the four sixth-year wizards in their college had not beaten a Hogwarts wizard who might have just been in his third year.

How could she ease her relationship with Dumbledore?

"What? You want to do it again! Don't you think we are embarrassing enough?"

It can be seen that she has also been exhausted by the incident in England recently.

As the principal of Bubaston, she was under pressure that these simple-minded little wizards could not imagine.

After she heard that Nicoléme had invited Dumbledore to visit France, she almost immediately wrote a letter asking Nico to change the meeting place to Boubaston, hoping to improve relations with Hogwarts.

At least the impact of this incident can be minimized.

But now - her best student, together with those silly children with restless hormones, beat up the child once.

Regardless of whether they win or not, if the news spreads, their reputation as a Bubbaston will be wiped out.

How could this not make her angry.

Furong, who was half sitting on the ground, looked at her principal absentmindedly.

His mind was filled with that harsh rebuke.

Those big, bright, light blue eyes gradually became misty.

Big tears streaked down his cheeks and fell to the ground.

Angry, unwilling, humiliated, and proud, she had never received such a huge blow.

Suddenly, Fleur's eyes snapped towards Owen, who was lying on the ground pretending to be a corpse.

She clutched the boy's wand tightly and bit her lip, as if she might bleed!

She swore that one day, one day, she, Fu Rong, would pay back all the humiliation she suffered today! By Delacour!

"Hey~"

Seeing the little French girl staring straight at Owen, Professor Dumbledore sighed with emotion, "It's so good to be young and can still love and hurt," but he also felt melancholy!

He already regretted it.

I regret bringing Owen out.

With his little tricks, he was able to deceive Madame Maxime, a cute new player who had never met such a thick-skinned player before. How could Dumbledore, who had already witnessed him cheating countless little wizards, not see it?

The old principal could tell at a glance that Owen, who was lying on the ground, was pretending.

Look at him, the smile on his lips hasn't even gone away.

It had been less than an hour since he arrived at Beaubaston, and this child had caused him so much trouble!

After this day.

If this kid causes trouble in the future, just don't tell the professors.

Dumbledore suddenly understood Professor McGonagall's distress.

At Hogwarts, he was the boss in front of him, and all the specific affairs of the campus were handled by Professor McGonagall. It didn't feel so profound before.

Now as soon as he stepped out of Hogwarts, he felt the same immediately.

However - there are two sides to words and two sides to things.

Although Owen caused a lot of trouble, it also made Dumbledore see many problems with Bubaston School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The dueling skills of these children are a bit weak!

You know, after a whole year of intimidation from their professors, most of the young wizards at Hogwarts have significantly improved their magic levels.

Like the petrified little wizards in front of him, Dumbledore felt that at least half of the little wizards in Hogwarts could dodge. Of course, it might just be a swoop to dodge, and not everyone might be able to release the armor. The curse comes.

But that's way ahead of Bubaston, isn't it?

When he thought of this, the old principal's complexion became inexplicably better, and a smile slowly filled the corners of his mouth.

The little wizards at Bubaston School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are still too immature. It is not uncommon for these dozen people to besiege one person at Hogwarts. In the second semester of this year, Ravenclaw will go to war with the three houses, and one eagle will fight against the other three. beast!

Professor Flitwick was miserable and happy. On the one hand, the enthusiasm of the young wizards in their academy to learn dueling skills will increase exponentially. On the other hand, the originally peaceful and indifferent Eagle Academy is transforming into a Gryffindor by leaps and bounds, which gives him a headache.

However, Professor Flitwick's pain did not last long.

Because it didn't take long for Professor Sprout to share his pain.

Bite kale is ripe.

At this time, the little wizard who let himself go completely fell into madness.

The little wizards from the four major academies can't open the glue.

Dozens of kilograms of vegetable leaves can be produced every day in the castle.

There had been several school-wide fights, and there were traces of Owen in them, which was why Minerva turned around and left when she saw the kid.

In the end, although it was the Slytherins who won the Academy Cup, it was because of Snape's crazy extra points. Their winning score this year was only a pitiful 327 points.

This score was at the bottom in previous years. Not even at the bottom, the lowest score in previous years was around 390 points.

One can imagine how fiercely the little wizards fought this year.

Ahem - thinking of this, the old principal's face fell again. The four major houses in Hogwarts were fighting each other. This didn't seem to be a glorious thing.

Although his student improvement plan this year was very successful, it also made the college more fragmented. I really don't know whether this is a good thing or a bad thing.

——————

When Owen woke up again, it was already the next day.

The cruel Dumbledore actually cast a few more petrification spells on him, leaving him alone and 'frozen' for a whole day.

"Stingy~" Owen curled his lips as he moved his stiff body, feeling a bit resentful toward Dumbledore in his heart. Haven't we already dealt with it?

He just stood aside and watched the show, so why did he bully others?

"Oh~ you're awake." It was a hoarse, low voice, the sound of playful wind blowing through dry wood.

Owen watched the figure coming from the stairs and trotting all the way. He was wearing a gray robe that was common among nobles in the last - or last century.

The dried body makes one think it is a living mummy.

"Huhu~" He walked only a few feet, but he was out of breath. When he got close to Owen, he held his shoulders very unceremoniously and gasped for breath.

"I-yes, I am Nicoléme, Dumbledore should have mentioned me." He stretched out his other hand, then greeted Owen with a smile.

"Hello, I'm Owen, Owen Sanchez." The Dark Lord cautiously stretched out his hand, but it only touched Nick's hand. He didn't dare to actually hold the brittle bone master's hand, in case it got banged. , others will still say that he does not respect the elderly and loves the young.

"You look really young. I guess you must be no more than three hundred and seventy-five years old."