The Return to Hogwarts

Amosta's loud voice rang out.

"Based on what I just said, the warriors will receive greater recognition, I mean, in addition to honor. Not only the warrior who ultimately wins the championship, but anyone selected as a warrior by the Goblet of Fire will receive an extra large sum of Galleons after the tournament."

"How many, Professor Blaine?"

George asked loudly.

“It’s uncertain right now—” Amosta smiled slightly, “maybe a few thousand?”

Clang!

At least several dozen students jumped onto the benches and cheered loudly.

"Finally, I want to tell you this!"

Amosta raised his voice to drown out the noise in the hall, and his calm expression gradually quieted the young wizards.

"Don't let honor and wealth cloud your judgment. Make your choice carefully. Once you are chosen as a warrior by the Goblet of Fire, you will be bound by a powerful contract with the Goblet of Fire. You will be subject to supervision, and you will have no choice but to fight to the very end!"

Chapter 557 Visiting

2023-10-26

Few of the young wizards listened to Professor Blaine's last point; they were more interested in discussing what he had said earlier.

The Triwizard Tournament and the previously mentioned 1,000 Galleons are rewards only for the champion. Professor Blaine clarified that as long as they are chosen as warriors, their fame will immediately be known throughout the entire European wizarding world. Moreover, the warriors will receive at least several thousand Galleons as a reward after the tournament.

This undoubtedly ignited the enthusiasm of many students. Some young wizards at Hogwarts who had previously been afraid of the dangers of the competition were now considering changing their minds, and a few proactive individuals were borrowing quills and parchment everywhere, preparing to sign up for the Goblet of Fire as soon as the banquet ended.

"Age Line —"

Fred Weasley's eyes lit up. "That's easy. They'll definitely be fooled by the aging serum, won't they? As long as your name is in that cup, you can laugh happily—it can't tell who's seventeen and who's under seventeen!"

"You're planning to participate?"

Ron asked in a daze, clearly a little dazed by the fame and prize money.

"But you've only received an investment of one thousand gallons."

"Who would complain about having too much gold, you silly boy—"

George Weasley said.

"I must remind you!"

Hermione took a deep breath, gave Ron a warning look, and then spoke to Fred and George.

"The competition is dangerous, and I don't think underage wizards can handle it safely. We haven't learned enough!"

“We’re Professor Blaine’s students in PE class, Hermione. You take that class yourself, so you know how capable we are!”

Fred said unhappily.

“But the key point is—” Hermione said urgently, “there are more than just you guys participating in PE class; some of them are adults. You can’t compete with them.”

“We’ll see,” George said confidently, then called to Fred, “Come on, brother, tonight’s going to be a sleepless night!”

Hermione underestimated the allure of becoming a champion for the boys. Ron stared absently at Fred and George's retreating figures, seemingly hesitant to follow. Even Harry wore a hesitant expression; though he wasn't interested in gold or fame, no one could resist the honor.

The crowd dispersed quickly, with many even jogging up the stairs, eager to return to their dormitories to prepare. Considering the special circumstances tonight, Filch and his Lady Lorris certainly wouldn't be wandering around the castle arresting little wizards who didn't go to bed on time.

"Let's go, let's go."

Professor Blaine hurried upstairs, and no student dared to block his way. Karkaroff also led his students out of the castle, seemingly with no intention of staying overnight. Bagman, on the other hand, was still talking with Dumbledore at the faculty dining table, and even as the Great Hall was almost empty, he showed no sign of ending the conversation.

Seeing this, Ron said, looking dejected.

They followed the tail end of the crowd upstairs. When they reached the third floor, they found Lavender and Parvati standing on the third-floor platform, frowning and muttering to themselves into the corridor. Neville was also there, looking surprised.

"what happened?"

Hermione stepped forward and greeted her two roommates.

“Oh, that girl from Beauxbatons!” Lavender said unhappily. “We saw her walking that way!”

"what?"

Hermione wasn't the only one surprised; Ron and Harry also gaped, blinking in astonishment.

"She must have gone to see Professor Blaine!"

Parvati glared at Harry and said angrily,

"Maybe she's trying to get in through Professor Blaine. I mean, she definitely wants to beat her classmates to become the champion, right? Oh, I bet Professor Blaine can see right through her!"

Student Safety Office.

Tonight, in order to entertain the guests who had come from afar, Amosta drank quite a bit of wine but ate very little out of courtesy. So, the first thing Amosta did upon returning was to make himself some tea. Then, he went behind his desk, opened a drawer, and took out a box.

The box contained some mildly sweet cookies, which he had specially made for him by the kitchen sprites, as the usual desserts at school didn't suit his taste.

Du, du, du—

Just as Amosta was carrying a teacup with extra tea leaves—added to prepare for a sleepless night—back to his seat, there was a knock at the door.

"Please come in--"

Inside the office, Amosta's somewhat reluctant invitation rang out.

It is Hibiscus de la Cour.

Fleur tied her hair into a high ponytail, which made her look much more capable than before. As soon as she entered the office, she didn't rush to greet Amosta. Instead, she looked around Amosta's office with a curious gaze. When she discovered that the famous Amosta Blaine worked and rested in such a simple office, her eyes showed obvious surprise.

"Is this the style of Hogwarts, Mr. Blaine?"

Furong walked in and asked in a very familiar tone,

"Still your personal style, this office looks like a hermit's residence!"

"A well-mannered guest should not point fingers at someone's home without greeting them upon entering, Ms. Delacour--"

Amosta smiled casually, gestured to Fleur, who looked even taller than she had six months ago, indicating that she should sit down, and then walked to the window to open it and let in some fresh air.

"Don't--"

Instead of sitting down, Furong went to Amosta's desk with great interest. She glanced at the snack box Amosta had taken out, and then her gaze fell on a large bundle of unanswered letters on the side of the desk. For some reason, she pouted unhappily.

She noticed Amostella opening the window, shivered, and said with a hint of reproach,

"Hiss—it's so cold here!"

"Then you should be glad that the Triwizard Tournament wasn't held in Durmstrang."

Amos shrugged, moved away from the window, turned the fire in the fireplace a little brighter, and then returned to sit on the sofa.

"What's wrong, Miss Delacour? Did Hogwarts neglect you so much that you couldn't wait to come and complain to me after the dinner?"

"Oh, I don't have as much opinion about this school as I do about you—"

Looking at Amos Blaine, who sat across from him with his fingers interlaced, they had met at the Triwizard Tournament preparation meeting. This was their second meeting. Compared to six months ago, Amos Blaine's appearance had not changed much. However, the subtle calmness and majesty in his eyes always made people feel a chill when their gaze inadvertently fell upon him.

Fleur had almost never felt this emotion from other men. Generally speaking, when a man was in her presence, it was always the other man who felt nervous. Moreover, the light in Amosta Blaine's distinctive pale purple eyes was always very clear, without the fervent and nauseating possessiveness she usually felt.

Mysterious and powerful.

This is Fu Rong's assessment of Amosta Blaine.

“I’ve written you about three letters, Mr. Blaine, the most recent one being just two months ago—”

Hibiscus leaned slightly forward, the flickering flames in the fireplace casting a pale gold hue on her exposed collarbone. Her hoarse voice carried an unusual emotion.

"But I haven't received a single reply, Mr. Blaine. I suppose my letter is probably in that pile of letters on your desk labeled 'No reply needed'?"

"what--"

Amosta smiled.

"The house-elves at Hogwarts are in charge of sorting the mail for me. They may have made a mistake, but don't worry, I will reprimand them severely—"

snort--

This excuse was far too flimsy. Furong let out a dissatisfied hum through her nose. Her gaze swept around the room. She hesitated for a moment, then didn't ask what was behind the black curtain on one of the office walls.

The office was far too shabby. After glancing at it a few times, Fleur completely lost interest. She turned her gaze back to Amosta Blaine, who was maintaining a polite smile, her eyes sparkling.

"May I ask you a question, Mr. Blaine?"

"what?"

"The witch you defeated at the Quidditch World Cup—" Fleur suddenly became interested, staring intently into Amostella's eyes, and asked abruptly.

"What's your relationship with her?"

Chapter 558 Full Monitoring

2023-10-26

In the office with its doors and windows tightly shut, the pine wood thrown into the fireplace was burning fiercely, its surging heat scorching the air inside. In no time, the once chilly office was as warm as a hot spring.

Hibiscus tossed her silvery hair, used her long, slender, white hands as a fan to cool herself, and then asked with great interest, "Who is that witch? She seems very special. I mean, she's very beautiful. When did you two meet?"

"Beautiful?" Amosta chuckled. "Isn't it dangerous?"

"Oh, those are two different things, you know—"