Read my new story :
American Fast & Furious NSFW
America's #1 Scumbag NSFW
Owen was standing on the broomstick. Not with two feet, but with one.
Only when he was balancing on one leg like a flamingo could his magical flow control the broom with the utmost smoothness.
But then came the problem. Standing that straight meant he couldn't hit the broom's top speed. Why? Aerodynamics. There was too much wind resistance. Once he hit a certain velocity, the airflow would simply blow him right off.
"So—Madam Hooch, can I fly like this—"
Watching the little wizard being dragged through the air behind his broom like a kite, Madam Hooch wanted to laugh but couldn't bring herself to. Seeing Owen dangling in mid-air, she hurriedly waved for him to land.
"My dear, I think... until there is a more advanced broomstick capable of containing your magical output, you aren't quite suited for this class."
"Alright then..."
Owen carried the broom back. He promptly turned around and gifted his newly purchased Firebolt to Professor McGonagall.
"Madam Hooch said this broom isn't suitable for me either. I might as well give it to you. She told me you were the most talented Quidditch player she's ever seen."
Professor McGonagall beamed. She didn't stand on ceremony with Owen; she accepted the newest, fastest broom on the market. In return, she handed the copy of Transfiguration Today that had just been delivered right into Owen's hands.
Watching the boy walk away happily, the witch's face was full of tenderness.
---
It was Wednesday. Three days left until the Hogsmeade weekend trip.
During these three days, Owen followed a normal schedule. Yet, even this routine astonished the new students. What surprised them most, however, were Mr. Corlett's "followers."
Especially the students from Slytherin House. They seemed... different from the rumors?
Under Owen's intentional guidance, the first batch of little snakes he had influenced were now seventh years. The ones who had started with him were now third-year seniors. After three years of long-term training, the results were striking.
First, physique and posture. The little snakes who persisted with the morning runs were generally the tallest and had the best posture. Not a single one hunched; everyone walked with a confident strut, as if carrying the wind with them.
Then there was magical proficiency. Slytherin was the strongest house overall. They might rarely earn points for answering questions in new classes, but they racked up the most points for homework and practical application.
And of course, slurs like "Mudblood" no longer slipped from their mouths. They maintained a proud aloofness toward students from other houses, but if communication was necessary, they were exceptionally polite. The etiquette of the nobility was displayed to perfection.
Regardless, the current Hogwarts was far, far better than in previous years. The competition between the four houses hadn't stopped, but it had shifted from petty squabbles to a contest of grades, strength, classroom performance, and learning attitude.
Professor Snape was as cold and aloof as ever, but he no longer went out of his way to target Harry Potter.
Over three years, he had finally realized that Harry Potter was different from his father—or rather, far inferior to his father. Aside from the same stubbornness and impulsiveness, Harry didn't have his father's nasty habit of arrogance.
Plus, with Owen growing at such a rapid pace, Snape poured most of his energy into teaching him. Every time he taught Owen a new potion formula, he would watch Owen brew it alone the next day. Then, they would spend three to five days discussing how to improve the recipe.
With such high-intensity teaching, Snape naturally lacked the mental energy for other things. For example, teaching first and second-year Potions classes, or grading homework for years one through four.
All of this was handed over to Owen.
And no one had any objections.
After all, that's what a Teaching Assistant is for—to take over the professor's duties when they're too busy.
---
"Expecto Patronum!"
Lupin had already started giving Harry private lessons. However, this time, Harry wasn't learning with much enthusiasm. Since the Dementors had been removed from the school perimeter, he didn't feel that sense of impending doom.
But after lunch on Friday, Owen found him. After their conversation, Harry's sense of urgency returned.
"Harry, you already know about Sirius Black. What we can confirm is that he will definitely come to Hogwarts to find you. Don't be surprised. Listen to me—Sirius Black is your godfather and was a close friend of your parents. As for the crimes listed in the newspaper, there are problems with those accusations. So, if you encounter him, you don't need to be afraid, and don't reject him. Instead, have him contact me. Can you do that?"
Harry agreed after lunch.
Then, after dinner, he changed his mind.
He had thought it through: Since he is my godfather, there is no need to drag other people into this...
So, he completely failed to consider that Sirius Black was currently a wanted fugitive.
And Owen, due to Harry's recent good behavior, had forgotten that Mr. Potter was actually quite a self-absorbed person. Owen focused his main energy on finding the Horcruxes, assuming he was just waiting for a meeting with Sirius to simplify a complicated situation.
---
"When I opened the legendary Chamber of Secrets of Slytherin, and even controlled the Basilisk with Parseltongue to create my first Horcrux, I knew I had succeeded. It won't be long before I become the God of the wizarding world. However... a mere notebook is too unsafe, and far too beneath my status. Therefore, I must use legendary items to create my Horcruxes. Only such objects are worthy of housing my great soul!"
Looking at the notes in the journal, Owen felt a bit of second-hand embarrassment. But there was no helping it; method acting required full commitment.
"I am already the Heir of Slytherin, an existence equal to the Four Founders. Therefore, the items most suitable to house my great soul can only be the legendary artifacts..."
The Sword of Gryffindor could be ruled out. It was inside the Sorting Hat. Someone like Voldemort could never pull it out, let alone turn it into a Horcrux. Dumbledore wouldn't give him that chance.
But the other items were likely targets.
Ravenclaw's Diadem. Hufflepuff's Cup. Slytherin's Locket.
Among these items, at least one—or perhaps all of them—had been made into Horcruxes. The easiest one to find was the first one: Ravenclaw's Diadem. Yet, there was no record of this item ever appearing in the outside world.
Now, he needed a specific duo. A pair of twins who were most familiar with the castle. From the moment they enrolled, they had never given up on exploring every nook and cranny. Owen trusted they would give him a surprise.
The Weasley twins were easy to find. They might sneak out at night, but they never missed a meal. So, before lunch, Owen intercepted them in the Great Hall.
"My dear Mr. Corlett, you asked the right people! If we're talking about the best place in the castle to hide things, there is only one place!"
The brothers were unusually excited and whispered the location of a mysterious room on the eighth floor to Owen.
The eighth floor actually had such a mysterious place?
Owen's eyes lit up. After thanking the twins, he began to eat rapidly. Once full, he flew straight toward the eighth floor.