The Return to Hogwarts

Dumbledore spoke calmly, staring at Amostella, who was showing an unusual interest in the inscribed runes. A strange light flashed in his eyes, but in the end, he did not try to inquire.

call--

After a long silence, Amosta let out a heavy sigh.

Ever since the Druid woman appeared and disappeared so quickly before him, the once 'normal' magical world has suddenly become sinister and bizarre. Many things are invisibly connected to an unknown conspiracy that involves Merlin and Morgan le Fay from over a dozen centuries ago, the rumored 'Grim Reaper' within Morgan, and the four founding leaders of Hogwarts.

Each and every one of them is historically renowned and far beyond what the current Amosta can rival, yet they somehow managed to drag him into it.

"Let's leave it at that for now--"

Amosta suppressed these thoughts and pulled himself together.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, what do you intend to do with the soul fragment inside this locket? Destroy it, or keep it for now?"

In my opinion, there is no need to keep it.

When the topic of Horcruxes came up, Dumbledore's tone became solemn again.

"All right--"

Amosta shrugged, and the wand landed in his palm.

"The soul fragments are hidden in the locket, so the locket must be burned along with it. But after that, I'll have to ask you to repair it. I have a feeling these things will play an important role someday. Please step back, Headmaster Dumbledore, if you don't want your beard to be ruined too."

"Not just the beard, Amosta—"

Dumbledore quickly waved his hand.

"If possible, I would also like to keep my office. Many items in this room belong to Hogwarts, not me personally. Don't worry, we can choose a slightly gentler approach—"

Horcruxes are the most evil form of black magic. The only way to destroy a Horcrux is through the most brutal methods. In Amosta's hands, any magic capable of destroying a Horcrux will cause the greatest damage to the environment. Some vicious magic can even completely pollute the magic in an area. On the other hand, Fiendfire is the most manipulable magic.

Dumbledore's suggestion of "a little milder" did indeed pique Amosta's curiosity.

Dumbledore went to the shelf where the wine had been stored, tapped the innermost partition with his wand, and immediately the dark wooden board distorted as if it were liquid, and quickly faded in color until it was as clear as water.

Dumbledore reached inside and rummaged around for a while, then, under Amosta's watchful eye, pulled out a box. He then carried the box back to his desk.

"This is--"

When Dumbledore opened the box and its contents were exposed to the air, a foul odor made Amostra squint.

"Hehe, you recognized it--"

Dumbledore's silver beard swayed, and the fangs in the control box floated up.

"It was the fangs of the basilisk you subdued."

“Fudge told me that the Ministry of Magic has entrusted Mr. Newt Scamander with the care of the basilisk—”

"Yes, Neutral is a good friend of mine, it's no secret—"

Dumbledore smiled honestly.

“I’m not as skilled in Fiendfire magic as you are, but I need to make sure I can destroy any Horcruxes I find at any time. So, I asked Neut to check if this old basilisk has any cavities while he’s cleaning up the bits of food stuck in its teeth.”

Amosta nodded.

"A great reputation is well-deserved. It seems that Mr. Scamander is indeed very good at dealing with magical creatures."

“Nuite is a pure wizard—”

Dumbledore nodded.

"A person with a pure heart is always more likely to gain the trust of those magical little creatures. To be honest, I'm quite grateful to Salazar Slytherin. If it weren't for him leaving this basilisk behind, it wouldn't have been easy to find a safe way to destroy Tom's Horcruxes—"

Chapter 323 Soul Weapon Reduced by One (Part 2)

2023-06-12

Amosta blinked, her mind racing for a moment.

Salazar Slytherin left behind the Basilisk, which unexpectedly provided considerable assistance in destroying the Horcruxes created by his bloodline a thousand years later. Is this a coincidence, or is there some other possibility?

Slytherin was the one among the four most concerned with the purity and inheritance of bloodlines. If he had truly foreseen certain truths a thousand years into the future, he would not have stood idly by. The door in Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets is proof of this.

At the same time, Slytherin would not stand idly by while someone tarnished the family's honor, and Tom Riddle's actions in the wizarding world would clearly not be appreciated by his great ancestors.

"Now, we face another problem—"

The items on Dumbledore's desk were cleared away, leaving only the undamaged pendant lying quietly. Amostella, who had already personally destroyed two Horcruxes, felt nothing particularly amiss about what was about to happen. He calmly said,

"If we use the basilisk's fangs, we might have to open the locket first, because the fangs can't break through the Horcrux's defensive spells—"

"That's true. Fortunately, I had some preparations in advance—"

Dumbledore said calmly,

“I taught Tom and know his style. When I first met him, he showed me his unusual talent from Salazar Slytherin—Parsleyan. I think he probably wouldn’t miss any opportunity to prove his unusual talent from his blood.”

Amosta didn't say anything, just quietly watched Dumbledore show off.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the office became tense. The portraits of past principals on the walls held their breath, staring intently at the locket on the desk. One of the principals, from centuries past, pulled an antique pair of glasses from his pocket, vigorously wiped them on his robe, and then placed them on his nose. If the circumstances allowed, these principals would have loved to leap out of their own portraits.

"So--"

Dumbledore nodded to Amostella, then extended his right hand.

A crisp snap of fingers rang out, followed by an old man's hissing voice in the office. Then, with a click, the locket popped open under everyone's watchful eyes!

call!

A sudden gust of wind swept through the room with its windows and doors tightly shut, and the bright candlesticks hanging from the ceiling, holding dozens of candles, dimmed instantly.

Like a river from hell, it corrupts the world!

The moment the lid popped open, thick, bottomless darkness surged out of the box like a flood bursting through a dam. The tangible, menacing dark magic occupied the office ceiling, displaying its depravity and evil in mid-air!

In the void, a tearing, seductive growl echoed, and from within the boiling fog, a ferocious face gradually took shape, overlooking the world like a dark king.

Dumbledore and Amosta stood side by side, their movements remarkably synchronized—hands clasped under their bellies, heads tilted back, faces solemn as they stared at the arrogant fragment of the soul in mid-air, their heterochromatic pupils gleaming with an eerie light.

I saw your heart.

The cruel voice was like the wailing of thousands of souls suffering torment and torture, and its gaze met Dumbledore's unfathomable eyes in mid-air. Then, the face that had revealed a cruel smile froze.

"Really, Tom?"

Dumbledore smiled and said,

"I always thought no one could understand me--"

The moment Dumbledore finished speaking, his azure eyes suddenly turned sharp. In a daze, his suddenly taller body seemed like a golden moon rising slowly from the horizon where the sea meets the sky. The aura emanating from him was so fierce that it forced the Horcruxes, which had little sense of reason, to subconsciously turn their gaze away.

"I know all your desires."

Unseen by any force, it seemed that something was interfering with the stability of Voldemort's soul fragment. The hideous face formed by black mist trembled violently, desperately absorbing the darkness of humanity to strengthen itself. So, it cast its evil gaze upon Amostrath Blaine and whispered.

"The cowardly who are dominated by the fear of death--"

Amosta sneered.

"How dare I speak presumptuously of what I desire?"

The next instant, Amosta's eyes shone brightly, and a powerful magical force comparable to Dumbledore's erupted from his thin body. The world shifted, and Dumbledore, Amosta, and the escaped soul fragments from the locket simultaneously left the inner office and appeared in a phantom space!

This space was boundless, like the high-dimensional space where wizards briefly lingered during Apparition. It was filled with chaotic and indescribable spatial turbulence. Amosta and Dumbledore, one with a cold and stern face and the other with a solemn expression, stood on opposite sides.

Boom!

Just as Voldemort's Horcruxes were filled with anxiety, Dumbledore and Amosta simultaneously surged with power. Golden and purple magic, manifesting like flames, erupted from their bodies, pulling and intertwining in the void to form a net that covered the sky, firmly holding the roaring fragments of the soul captive in a closed space, preventing them from escaping.

The surrounding spatial turbulence, rising and falling like the tides of the sea, seemed to have encountered three massive celestial bodies, constantly impacting the magic grid that sealed the soul artifact with even more chaotic trajectories than before!

The soul fragments struggled and thrashed within the spherical magic net, each roaring and desperate impact twisting the net, yet they could never break through.

Under the magical pressure of Dumbledore and Amosta, two wizards who can be considered the foremost wizards in the world, Voldemort's soul fragments, thanks to the special properties of Horcruxes, have never dissipated.

"Amosta--"

Dumbledore's aged voice reached Amosta's ears precisely through the chaotic space. Amosta nodded slightly, raised his right hand, and waved it towards the empty space except for the turbulent flow. A miniature hurricane suddenly appeared, enveloping the basilisk's fangs.

Seemingly sensing that something capable of destroying it had finally appeared, the imprisoned soul fragments went completely mad. The large face suddenly disintegrated, transforming into hundreds or thousands of black, meteor-like streaks that frantically attacked the purple-gold magic net from all directions.

Amosta squinted, the chaotic trails of the black clouds trailing their tails leaving clear reflections in his eyes. After a brief moment of discernment, he locked onto one of them.

With a flick of its index finger, the basilisk's fangs vibrated and emitted a deep hum. Then, with the force of a comet hitting the earth, it crashed into the black cloud!

Ding!

In an instant, a clear and melodious sound resounded throughout this illusory space. Then, a light as bright as if the heavens and earth were splitting apart swept in, melting everything in sight and extinguishing the roar of resentment and fear!

Amos Tower had already left. Before leaving, he asked to take with him the Ravenclaw tiara and the Slytherin locket he had found. After a brief moment of thought, Dumbledore granted Amos Tower's request, with only one condition—that the two items not be sold for money.

"Albus--"

The Headmaster's office, shrouded in an inexplicable atmosphere, remained silent for a long time. Finally, the newly appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts, Armando Dippet, spoke. He gazed intently at Dumbledore, who sat in his seat, removed his glasses, and gently rubbed his temples, and asked solemnly,

"You've made up your mind to change your original plans, haven't you? I mean, to let Amosta Blaine..."

“I’ve been looking for a safe way to deal with Tom’s problem all along.”

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the dome, and said expressionlessly,

“We all know that I might be able to outdo Tom in a duel, but that doesn’t solve the problem. Horcruxes are just one issue. As long as I’m alive, Tom will not let his guard down. He will continue to lurk in the shadows and use his cunning schemes to plunge the wizarding world into prolonged chaos. Plus, there’s the connection between Harry and Tom’s souls. In short, I’m getting weaker and weaker, and time is on Tom’s side.”