The Return to Hogwarts

"Come look, Amosta! It's Harry's owl, I think its name is Hemingway!"

"It's Hedwig--"

Upon hearing this, Amosta, who was walking out of the cabin with the key in his hand, shook his head slightly.

"What did I say?"

Sirius seemed rather smug.

"Harry must be getting impatient at his Muggle house. He can't wait for me to come pick him up. Oh, and speaking of which, that owl is really something, managing to find his way here!"

For Sirius, the greatest happiness might be being needed by Harry.

He reassured Hedwig repeatedly, and after receiving the letter, he happily opened it in front of Amostella and eagerly began to read it. However, as one slightly childish handwriting after another came into view, Sirius's joyful expression gradually faded, and a serious look crept onto his brow.

“Perhaps you should read this letter, Amosta.”

Harry's owl had also sent him letters. Amostella was feeding Hedwig small fish from the sea when he heard Sirius say this, and his gaze naturally shifted to him. He immediately realized that something bad had probably happened.

"what happened?"

While asking the question, Amosta took the letter without hesitation and read it quickly.

What do you think, Amosta?

Sirius observed Amosta's expression and asked softly,

"Harry's scar isn't an ordinary scar, right? Harry said the last time it hurt was when Voldemort was near him. Voldemort shouldn't be near the Muggle family Harry was staying with, right? With Dumbledore's magic protecting him, he couldn't find Harry at all, could he?"

"Harry probably didn't tell us everything."

Staring at the careful words on the paper, Amosta narrowed his eyes. He suddenly recalled his conversation with Dumbledore before this trip and couldn't help but feel a bit of admiration.

Not long after Dumbledore warned him, something strange happened on Harry's side.

Setting down the letter, Amosta said calmly,

“Harry’s scar is indeed unusual. It represents a hidden connection between him and the wizard who gave him the scar, and it certainly needs to be treated with care. Well, I’ll go with you to Privet Drive and ask Harry in person if there’s anything he hasn’t clarified. Also, I suggest you write a letter to Dumbledore and tell him about this—”

Boo!

Just then, another gray owl swooped in from a distance, directly attacking the ship. Like Hedwig, this owl had ruffled feathers, suggesting it had been struggling in these waters for some time.

The letter was addressed to Amosta, and the sender was Kakus Foley.

"I'm sorry, Sirius—"

After glancing at the letter, Amosta's eyes immediately sharpened.

"You'll have to ask Harry about it yourself. Write to me immediately if there are any new developments. There's something I need to investigate personally—"

Chapter 441 Albania

2023-08-25

Albania, according to official Muggle statistics, has a third of its land covered by dense forests. For Muggles, this is a perfect vacation destination, but for the respectable wizards of the magical world, it's not a country worth lingering in.

This country doesn't have a very large population, which results in a limited number of wizards with magical talent. This leads to a very direct problem—

Albania lacks sufficient native wizards to support the establishment of a legitimate Ministry of Magic recognized by the International Federation of Wizards. In other words, wizards here are not subject to any legal oversight except for the Wizarding Secrets Act, which has led to many chaotic situations.

The magical creatures that inhabit this country are slaughtered indiscriminately; smugglers of various precious magical ingredients choose to trade here; black magic is prevalent, and traditional sorcerers conduct all sorts of cruel experiments here.

Later, this place became a lawless land, a paradise of evil.

Many individuals wanted by the Ministry of Magic in their home countries come here to hide. These individuals are not so law-abiding, and attacks on Muggles are not uncommon. As long as it doesn't cause widespread panic among Muggles, the International Wizarding Federation, which acts as the governing body, will turn a blind eye.

Or rather, even if Dumbledore wanted to help the Muggles here, he was powerless to do so.

Behind the chaos in Albania lie the interests of the magical communities of various countries, much like the underground world deep within Knockturn Alley, now protected by a network of black and white. Dumbledore can only change this country if he himself comes here wielding his wand and wreaks havoc.

Dusk is receding, and night is approaching.

The rosy glow on the horizon gradually faded, and the sunset changed from crimson to a pale red. At the horizon where the sea meets the sky, scattered fishing boats, like tiny black dots, could be seen struggling to reach the shore. This scene made the sea appear infinitely vast.

The Muggle tourists were clearly aware that the country's security was not good after nightfall.

Although they were still enjoying the beautiful natural scenery, they called out to their companions in unison, and with slightly hurried steps, got into their cars and left.

As the lonely moon's shadow faded into the horizon, there were still few Muggles left at the edge of the primeval forest and the hills covered with lush green grass. However, on the shimmering lake shore, a middle-aged woman, being pulled along by several policemen, knelt on the bank, weeping in despair.

"what happened?"

A young man carrying a travel suitcase appeared silently behind a policeman, startling a Muggle policeman who was standing with his hands on his hips, sighing and looking like he had Greek ancestry.

"Oh, damn it, where did you come from?!"

It looked like a Muggle cop, like a squad leader, had almost twisted his ankle. His fingers were even touching the handle of his gun. But after his gaze swept over the gray-haired young man's entire body, the wariness in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a hint of embarrassment and anger after being frightened.

"what's going on?"

The gray-haired young man ignored the Muggle policeman's petty emotions. He raised his chin, looked at the middle-aged woman on the lakeshore who was struggling with several policemen and crying loudly, trying to rush into the lake, and continued to ask.

"Hey--"

The Muggle policeman seemed like a very easygoing person; he didn't dwell on how the gray-haired young man had managed to sneak up behind him on the open lawn without making a sound. He sighed, his eyes filled with pity as he looked at the middle-aged woman.

"This is a tourist from Italy. In the morning, this lady and her daughter were boating on the lake. Everything was normal until a gust of wind blew by. She just squinted her eyes, and her daughter disappeared."

"Oh--"

The young man, with unusually colored eyes but striking good looks and an air of captivating charisma, nodded thoughtfully.

"Where's the search team? Didn't you try looking in the lake?"

"You're from out of town, sir. You don't know the area here—"

The Muggle policeman lowered his voice, afraid of upsetting the already mentally unstable Italian woman. He turned his head and whispered in the gray-haired young man's ear,

"This kind of thing happens frequently here. Tourists are playing in the lake, forest, or near the scenic spot, but in the blink of an eye, their family members disappear and they can't be found no matter how hard they try. After a while, some lucky ones will inexplicably reappear in another place. These people have lost their memory of the time they were missing. They don't know why they appeared in another place, or what they experienced--"

"And the unfortunate ones?"

"Oh—" The Muggle policeman's face turned horrified.

"Unfortunately, by the time people found them, they had already lost their lives. But the cause of death could not be found on their bodies. The worst case was that they had completely disappeared and nothing could be found."

"Well--"

Looking at the grief-stricken Muggle woman, a deep light flashed in Amosta's eyes.

"Have you actually investigated the cause?"

"Of course we want to, but the higher-ups won't allow it!"

The Muggle policeman shouted indignantly.

"The government is afraid that if this gets out, no tourists will come to the country. They are threatening and bribing tourists who have lost family members to persuade them not to spread the word. If you ask me, this despicable politician is simply, oh, damn it!"

The Muggle policeman abruptly stopped his incessant complaining, jumped away from the gray-haired young man, and stared at him with horrified eyes.

"I shouldn't have told you all this, oh damn. Okay, forget about what I just said, and hurry back to the hotel to rest, sir. There are large wild animals around here at night. I guess you don't want to suddenly disappear and then be found in a ditch a while later!"

"Thank you for reminding me, but of course I don't want to end up like that—"

The gray-haired young man nodded to the Muggle policeman and smiled politely.

"Then leave immediately!"

The Muggle policeman waved his arms aggressively at Amosta, trying to disperse him. After seeing Amosta turn away, he looked at the middle-aged woman who was crying her heart out, and sighed repeatedly.

As soon as the Muggle policeman looked away, the gray-haired young man suddenly stopped in his tracks. He turned his head and stared intently at the middle-aged Italian woman, a flash of thunderous rage in his eyes.

The gray-haired young man is, of course, Amosta Blaine.

Just four or five days ago, Amosta and Sirius were floating on the sea.

Azkaban's trip was very fruitful. According to his original plan, he intended to return to 12 Grimoire Square for a while to properly digest what he had learned.

But just as this adventure was coming to an end, a letter from Cacus Foley interrupted Amosta's plans, forcing him to travel a long and arduous journey to this country he was not very familiar with, despite his considerable exhaustion.

This primeval forest appears even wilder and more dangerous than the Forbidden Forest adjacent to Hogwarts.

In the dense forest, towering trees, dozens of feet tall and too large for several adults to encircle, are everywhere. While the sky outside still glows with the faint light of the setting sun, the forest is already shrouded in darkness.

The golden viper, clad in black robes, ignored the greedy eyes lurking in the deep darkness, waiting for their chance to strike, and trudged along the barely noticeable path. The surrounding vines were so dense that Amosta wasn't even sure if he was on the right path, or if he had already gone astray.

Golden Viper pulled out the letter from Kakus, which included a simple magic map.

The map showed that he was very close to his destination. After scanning the area and determining the direction, he started walking forward again.

Ten minutes later, the golden viper stopped under a sturdy spruce tree.

A goat's head hangs from the bottom of the spruce tree.

The goat's head was very strange. The flesh and blood at the severed neck were still very fresh, with a few drops of blood about to fall. However, the whole thing had been weathered, and the place where the eyes were had become dark caves.

"I want to enter the camp."

Facing the goat's head, the golden viper spoke in an aged voice.

Gaa gaa--

A sudden, oppressive breeze stirred, and the goat's head, pinned to the spruce, let out a ghostly laugh. Two points of green fluorescence shone from its dark eye sockets.

“State your name and who introduced you.”