We still don't know if Ron is happy or miserable.

Maybe both.

"What the hell is that woman trying to do?"

At this time, George and Fred also walked over.

They danced with their respective dance partners for a long time, presumably to relax, and then they had to sneak out of the castle to find a grove.

"Then guess, could she be for the seven chicken legs in Ron's belly?" Owen glanced at the witch. This woman is so weird, what do you think you are doing if you are so tired of the Weasleys' treasures? Are you afraid that others will not know that you have another purpose?

"Weasley's treasure?" Fred whispered, "But how did she know?" I mean, who told her? ”

"Who told her, it doesn't matter, what matters is that she doesn't want to get involved, but someone asks her to get involved, and what I want to know is, who is the person behind this?"

"Is it Professor Eularia?" Fred was the first to suspect Ilvermorny's current headmaster, after all, if Koyatl had to listen to one man's orders, the young wizards could think of it, and that was the headmaster.

"Professor Eulari is Dumbledore through and through, from the time she was still at Ilvermorny." Owen shook his head, he took a sip of Butterbeer, and looked at Hermione, whose eyes lit up, who seemed to be in high spirits and had a great interest in the great conspiracy that might exist.

Seeing this, Owen's face and the corners of his mouth turned down slightly, revealing an unhappy expression. Tonight is a rare day, and the most important thing for them is not to go to the grove?

What a Weasley treasure – to hell with it!

Without those treasures, he would have been able to overturn the gods. Probably.

As he spoke, he squinted at Miss Granger to the side.

Under the dark blue dress was the warm and jade-like skin, which seemed to be exposed in some kind of snow-white bareness, and the tight elastic thighs had a rather wonderful curve, which was a symbol of youth, which Hermione always ran around and exercised.

Of course, there is more to the beauty of a girl than that.

It's like when you see a cluster of mountains and mountains, and it's really beautiful to look at the ups and downs in the distance, but the mountains are there, and the tempting mist halfway up the mountain is like a sarsa, which makes people can't help but want to get closer and peek at the real face.

Especially this year.

This year has not been a good year

Miss Granger unexpectedly became a Warrior, which kept her already short of time even busier.

You must know that in addition to Hermione's eleven (seven compulsory and four elective) classes to take, there is also a lot of alchemy experiments and manuscript sorting work.

During the first week of the holiday, during their date, she carried two notebooks with her, one of the ancient runi script she had copied from the underground vault, and the other of his "Secrets of Ancient Alchemy", which she would ask him whenever and wherever she remembered something she didn't understand.

When they weren't tired of being together before, she didn't often ask him questions because she was shy, but now it's okay, there is no psychological pressure at all. This gave Owen a strong sense of déjà vu at times, that he was tutoring Hermione.

On the other hand, Miss Granger was uncomfortable stared at by Owen's fiery eyes, as he often did, but before, whenever he looked at her like this, there was always a hint of intrigue in his eyes, as if he was thinking about how to trick her, but now—throw away those messy looks, and all that was left was something that would make the little witch feel hot.

"Leave them alone." Owen grabbed Hermione's smooth hand, then turned to look at Harry and said, "It's a prom today!" Don't you all have girlfriends? It's really idle and panicked. ”

As he spoke, he turned around to leave the Great Hall with Hermione.

He knew that there were several places where there would be no little wizards, and where their relationship would rise to a new level!

"Owen—" A woman's voice came from behind him.

Owen didn't look back.

When his mother came, he took it all right.

"Owen Sanchez !!"

The voice is more serious, and it sounds inexplicably familiar.

Owen turned his head suddenly, and then saw the familiar witch looking at him, "Grandma? (to distinguish it from grandma)

The person who came was none other than his own grandmother, Wenda Rozier.

"Ahem—wow, it's a pleasure to meet you!" A smile immediately welled up on his face. "By the way, is there anything wrong with you?"

"Someone wants to see you." Dressed in a women's close-fitting trench coat, with a black flat-bottomed round hat and a little black lace fishing on the edge, her noble temperament stood out from the crowd, and when she walked over, even the air had a faint scent of roses. "Now, immediately." She said in an unquestioning tone.

"But—me." Owen is still struggling.

But Wenda had already turned away.

The direction of her stride was the small door next to the original rostrum.

"Uh-is that domineering?" He shook his head and looked at Miss Granger with some pity.

He won't look back when his mother comes—it's a pity that the mother who came

This is still to be respected.

"You're in luck, Miss Granger." Owen said. "I'll eat you again the next time I get a chance!"

With that, Owen hurriedly followed.

Sora left the little witch with a crimson face in place.

I didn't take a few steps through the side door. Owen noticed that in the corridor in front of him, there were several strange adult wizards.

At the ball, he had seen the wizards, who stood with Wenda and said something to each other.

"Is that him?" As Owen approached, one of the three spoke first.

It was a wrinkled, dying old woman, dressed in gorgeous clothes, with jewels around her neck and wrists, but the outfit didn't suit her very well, it was loose, as if she were wearing someone else's clothes.

Maybe it's the clothes she wore when she was younger—Owen guessed.

"Hmm." Wenda spoke flatly, and Owen noticed that she had distanced herself from the three men.

With that, the four nodded, then turned and walked towards the spiral staircase.

The old woman said in a dry voice, "Keep up." ”

The four of them walked in the direction of the spiral staircase, one after the other, maintaining a certain distance.

"Stomp!" High heels trampled on the marble floor, and the crisp sound was heard far and wide in the empty hallway.

Although they did not identify them, Owen dared to conclude from their proper dress and overflowing elegance that they were all members of the Rozier family.

Soon, they were on the second floor.

Next to Professor McGonagall's office, there was another room.

Last year, it was his grandmother's office.

It seems that when she returned, Professor McGonagall cleaned up the clutter.

Pushing open the oak door, the floor is covered with a thick brown carpet, and the walls are covered with blue-black wallpaper, with blue as the base color and black roses dotted on it.

The only stove in the room was blazing.

The crystal lamps overhead ignited the moment they pushed the door open, and there were several armchairs in the living room.

Wenda stripped off her black robe, revealing a silky dark green dress, her hands resting on her lower abdomen, her fingers slightly hooked, and the teapot on the stove floated lightly, and then the glass cabinet in the corner slowly opened, and a delicate porcelain teacup also floated, falling on her hand, along with the coffee that had fallen from the teapot.

Owen didn't feel comfortable either, he snapped his fingers, the same teapot, the same teacup, the same coffee.

He, along with his grandmother, even landed in the armchair.

The right leg rests on the left leg, the soles of the feet are held high, and the right hand rests on the armrest, and then the whole body is leaning on.

One big and one small, the two of them acted like copy and paste, took a sip of coffee, and then both let go of the teacup and let it float on the table next to the armchair.

"Are you looking for me?" His hands were folded together, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, and his gray eyes stared at the strange three, once again in tune with his grandmother.

Just by appearance, you will intuitively see that Owen and his grandmother are almost the same, with the same gray eyes, the same black hair, and the same self-confidence, eye-catching, and lazy temperament. If it weren't for the slow unfolding of his mother's legacy, such as Owen's hair mixed with a little silver strands, and his gray eyes embellished with turquoise, they might have looked more alike.

Good—the old witch didn't have any emotional turmoil because of Owen's rudeness, and she was even a little happy.

At the very least, she could assert that the child was indeed of Rozier's blood.

"Owen Rozier." The witch also found an armchair to sit in, different from the lazy posture of the mother and grandson in front of her, her legs were together, her waist was straight, and her demeanor was dignified, although her skin was loose due to old age, but her elegant temperament was still eye-catching, which could not help but make people think that maybe decades ago, she was also a beauty who eclipsed the roses. "I just arrived in the UK." She said flatly.

Owen noticed that her grandmother didn't seem to want to pour them coffee too.

"Everything here shocked me, the Rozier family, who were active in England, could be so stupid that they would be near extinct."

"It's Sanchez—" Owen pointed as he looked at her.

"Don't say that stupid last name." The witch looked at him sternly, and although her gray eyes were still cloudy, there was still a majestic divine light shining out.

Then, she said, "You should go back to France, not stay here, and it won't do you any good to be so close to the center of the storm." ”

"But I don't think there's a storm." Owen said lightly, he cast another spell on the teacup, let it levitate, took a sip, and continued: "The ants will think that the waves of the stream are deadly storms, but for the petrel who fights the sea, it is just a little ripple, and it can't even be detected without careful observation. ”

"Heh—" said the old witch with a slight smile and a mocking expression, "you are really in the same vein as my sister, and you are conceited. But most of the time, conceit is like a chronic poison, and you have already reached the point of death without knowing it. ”

"Alright." She leaned back slightly, her head slightly raised, "I'm not here for you, for the family, we won't recognize your status until you show enough talent." ”

"It's better not to admit it." Owen tilted his head lazily, "I still think it's troublesome." ”

The witch snorted, perhaps disgusted by Owen's ignorance, and then she turned on something else, "I heard Wenda say, you got a Muggle girlfriend?" ”

“？”

Smell - Owen looked at his grandmother in surprise, and Wenda was holding her coffee, tasting it carefully, and she was sitting farthest away from them, with an indifferent expression on her face, and she had no intention of participating in them.

She was supposed to have arrived at Hogwarts tonight, as she had snowflakes on her trench coat when she first met her.

And yesterday he had seen Grindelwald and Dumbledore discussing something in the hallway, and today his grandfather was gone. So grandma should have come to replace him.

If she hadn't heard any gossip tonight, she should have seen the relationship between him and Miss Granger a year ago.

It's really sharp!

"She was indeed Muggle-born." Owen said calmly.

"Humph!" The old woman snorted heavily, and then her tone suddenly changed, and she became hysterical, "The upper beam is not right and the lower beam is crooked!" ”

She said, "One never married, the other married a Muggle, and now it's your turn?" ”

"Combining with a mudblood! How many more times will Rozier's noble bloodline defile you! ”

She glared, her hands gripping the handle of the armchair tightly, as if she was going to grab him back and put him in the family dungeon in the next second.

"Stains—" Owen chuckled.

Then he slowly pulled his wand out of his coat pocket.

"I haven't heard that word in years."

The corners of his mouth turned up, tilting his head to look at his grandmother, "Can you give me a reason not to kill her?" ”

Owen's wrist was raised slightly, and his wand was aimed at the witch.

"Bold!" Before the adult could speak, the little ghost was eager to express himself.

Behind the old witch, the man on the left took a step forward, quickly drew his wand, and stared at Owen with a vicious look in his eyes.

"What a young and fearless man!" Owen said indifferently, the smile on his face gradually disappearing.

Hmph - he's changed!

Influenced by Miss Granger.

"Arvada - Seeking Lives" In the next second, his wand lit up with a blinding green light, like a shadow cast by the Grim Reaper, accompanied by countless terrible screams, and the spell passed through the wizard's cheek at lightning speed.

"Shh He raised his left hand and held out his middle finger against his mouth. He said coldly, "Adults speak, children don't interject!" ”

"Otherwise—" In the next second, the wand in his hand slid quickly and slightly, silently cutting the spell, and casting the spell instantly.

"Ahh

Only one sentence came out of the terrible scream.

The witch's hand, the finger on which he held the wand, had several severed off, but when the pain forced him to scream, his mouth slowly healed like a wound, and finally merged.

"Woo-"

"Bang!"

He fell to the ground, clenching his hand in pain, howling, but unable to make a sound. There was only horror left in his eyes.

"Whew!" It's just that Owen took his coffee and drank it down, "Okay." ”

He got up from his chair, "What I want, no one can stop it yet, when choosing to be my enemy, it is recommended to weigh yourself first, think about how many pounds and taels you have." ”

Owen smiled slightly: "People always have to pay for their ignorance. ”

"I hope that the next time we meet, what you need to pay is not your life!"

"Wait—"

Owen lifted his foot and was about to leave.

But before he could take a step, the old witch on the side shouted.

She didn't have the slightest anger at Owen's brutality, and she could even see excitement on her face.

It's as if you've found some rare treasure.

"Sit down—" Wenda said appropriately, and the teapot floated to the table beside Owen's armchair, the spout pouring and the brown coffee flowing into his teacup like a stream.

"She's my cousin." Grandma said, "The most important thing she ever did for you was to invite your mother back to the family, and she persuaded most of the family wizards at the time—"

"Hmph."

"When a madman chased and killed his daughter, he provided a safe house for his niece." The old witch opened her mouth coldly. Looking at Wenda, a trace of hatred flashed in her eyes.

"If it weren't for my sister's stupidity, perhaps my gifted niece would have led Rozier to greater glory!"

"Uh." Owen pursed his lips and sat back down.

"Very well, for good reason."

Then he tilted his head and looked at his grandmother, and his grandmother's cousin.

Your family's love and hatred are really fucking complicated.

Although Owen no longer intends to hold the previous generation accountable for all the crimes, he is still shocked by the intricate entanglements between these people after hearing these hidden news.

The old woman who dared to stint Miss Granger in front of him was probably the dearest aunt in the eyes of his mother.

It can only be said that this world is neither black nor white, but a delicate gray.

"What's her name!" The old witch spoke suddenly, staring at Owen and saying, "I'm curious about the Muggle witch who is worthy of Rozier. ”

"Although I would never allow Rozier to marry a Muggle!"

"Hermione Granger!"

"Hermione Granger?" The old witch frowned slightly, and her tone slowed down, for she felt funny that she had heard the name somewhere.

"Wait—" Before the old woman could speak, behind her, on the right, another wizard, a man who looked to be the size of Sirius, suddenly looked shocked, and his mouth opened wide as if he could stuff a fiery snake egg.

"Miss Granger?"

"Is that Miss Granger? The heir of Gryffindor, one of the warriors of this tournament, the seething Miss Granger that was recently reported in the newspapers? ”

The babbling voice behind him read out all of Hermione's titles in one breath.

Then, the old woman's eyes suddenly flashed.

She remembered.

It's that girl!

"Tsuyoshi Mura Tsuyoshi "Daily Prophet?" Owen scoffed.

"This—" The aunt fell silent suddenly.

Her face swelled back and forth, one moment excited, one moment entangled, and another look of pity, in short, it was wonderful.

It took more than a minute for her to digest the astonishing news.

"Ahem." She coughed lightly, her expression was like a twisted dough, and it took a while before she reluctantly squeezed out a smile, "It's that young lady." ”

Then, with a hint of urgency, he asked, "Is she really Godric's descendant?" ”

"If you think it is, if it doesn't, it doesn't."

"That's it!" Her unequivocal voice startled Owen, well—he had thought the old witch would be a Sirius mother, but now—you're too quick to know what's going on!

It's no wonder that the Rozier family has spread across three continents, and this flexible bottom line is definitely an important reason.

All of a sudden, his aunt was no longer sore, her legs were not sore, her face was not full of sorrow, and she was as happy as a sunflower.

"Is that young lady still in the auditorium?"

"Yes."

"Can you invite her over? Oh! My old lady, who was dying, wanted to meet her. ”

"Uh-huh!"

The aunt's change was so fast that Owen was caught off guard.

Seriously, he still likes the unruly look he had just now.

Because then he doesn't have any psychological pressure if he starts to do it.

But now, as the so-called reaching out and not hitting the smiling person, this makes him so embarrassed.

Tied up.

Then he stood up and walked briskly to the oak door.

After pushing it away, it quickly disappeared into the hallway.

"It's really full of the spirit of the Dark Lord." In the room, the old witch seemed to mock, as if melancholy.

It can't be helped—three generations of Rozier's children have been closely connected to that gentleman, and most importantly, they have all been tainted with the Dark Lord's lawless personality, which has led to the birth of top wizards in the family for three consecutive generations, but it has not brought the slightest benefit.

Even Rozier declined.

I have to say, sometimes the world is really black humor.

"It should be said that this is what he is." Wenda said lightly, and with the movement of her fingers, she untied the mouth of the wretched creature struggling on the ground.

Then some kind of dark purple potion floated from the glass display case.

White smoke rose as the potion pressed against his severed finger, which was suspended and fitted back, and then a lot of white foam erupted from his wound, and when the foam faded away, the severed finger had healed again.

She wasn't going to change her mind about the little monster - though she promised Gellert that he would no longer be his enemy, but. Something. It's not something that can be changed with a single sentence.

Gradually, there was a kind of silence in the room.

Silence - nothing can be heard except the wind outside the window.

Wenda must have blessed the walls with some kind of magic, otherwise the loud music in the auditorium and the singing trumpet flowers in the corridor would definitely be heard.

"Click!"

It was the sound of a fire cracking, and this sudden sound finally gave a little vitality to the silent office.

It didn't take long for there to be a knock on the office door.

Owen, who then returned, pushed the door open with Miss Granger.

(End of chapter)