The Return to Hogwarts

The sun was still shining brightly outside, and the howling north wind whipped up the loose snow that had fallen on the ground and rooftops. The swirling snowflakes, like mist, turned the earth into a vast expanse of white.

After hearing his explanation, Blaine fell silent, neither refusing nor nodding in agreement, simply staring at the application form on the table, his purple eyes flashing intermittently. As time passed, Moody's unease grew. He wasn't sure if Blaine had noticed anything; after all, Blaine might very well have already...

"Okay, no problem."

An extraordinary pressure silently surrounded Blaine, and Moody, enveloped by this pressure, involuntarily held his breath. Just before he nearly suffocated, Blaine finally let go.

Amosta quickly wrote his name on the paper and then returned the application form to Professor Moody.

"I thank you on behalf of my old buddies, Blaine!"

Professor Moody breathed a sigh of relief, took the application form as he stood up, and prepared to leave decisively.

“Wait, Professor Moody—”

But before Moody could take two steps, the sudden call from Blaine behind him made his heart tighten. He involuntarily clenched the application form, turned around to look, and then, a look of astonishment froze on his face.

Amosta pulled out an empty purse, then took out his own and opened it. Bathed in the white sunlight, the glittering Galleons emitted a dazzling golden light and a melodious, tinkling sound.

Galleons flowed into the brand-new purse like a waterfall, and Moody noticed that Amosta's expression gradually contorted into what appeared to be a pained look.

Finally, after about three or four thousand gold coins had fallen, Amosta Blaine grabbed his money bag and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Although he was somewhat prepared, Moody's frozen astonishment didn't thaw when Amosta Blaine handed him the new money pouch on the table. His eyes, whether real or fake, seemed malfunctioning, frozen in place. He didn't look at the gold; instead, he stared intently at Blaine's face.

“Take it, Professor Moody. It doesn’t mean anything by it; it’s just a small token of my appreciation for your old friends.”

Amosta smiled.

"We can't let our heroes bleed and weep, can we, Professor Moody?"

Chapter 673 You are a good person

2024-01-02

Professor Moody opened his mouth, looking at Blaine's calm yet unyielding face, before finally looking down at the bulging money bag.

"No, I can't, Blaine—"

Moody took two steps back, his lips pressed together, his eyes filled with struggle and mostly filled with resistance.

“This has nothing to do with you, Blaine, you don’t need to be like this—”

"Gold should be in the hands of those who need it. For me, it's just a pretty collectible. I can't even remember the last time I touched my purse—"

Amosta handed over the money bag.

“Take it, consider it a donation to those honorable retired veterans. To be honest, I’ve donated money to St. Mungo before, but it seems that the gold wasn’t used effectively. In that case, I might as well give the money directly to those who need help.”

Amosta seemed to see, deep within those eyes disguised as blue, another pair of eyes, gleaming with a touch of emotion.

Alastor Moody's expression also subtly changed, but unfortunately, his scarred and rugged face couldn't produce any refined expressions. Forcing it would only make his face look particularly ferocious and ugly. Amostah couldn't stand it anymore and threw the money bag directly into Professor Moody's arms.

"I imagine you must have a lot to do, Professor Moody, so please don't waste your time here. Remember to close the door behind you when you leave, thank you—"

Amosta stopped looking at the person in front of him and pulled out a design blueprint from his drawer, filled with densely packed magical corridors and nodes. This was the design blueprint for the core functional module of the learning machine. Amosta was close to mastering it. Once completed, Remus would soon be able to mass-produce the learning machine and begin large-scale promotion.

The money pouch in her hand was bulging, and the weight-reducing spell that was always attached to it was still working perfectly, but Vitia felt that the pouch was incredibly heavy, almost too heavy for her to bear. She looked down at the pouch, and the torment and pain in her heart reached its peak at this moment. The urge to drop the pouch, escape from here, and escape from this man forever was tormenting her nerves.

"You're a good man, Blaine. I think I know why Albus admires you so much—"

Moody spoke to Amosta in a hoarse, extremely low voice.

Amosta, who was focused on the design drawings, shuddered slightly upon hearing this. Without looking up, he replied in the same low voice,

"The last guy who said that to me ended up spending half a year at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries. Professor Moody, do you want to follow in his footsteps?"

Moody's lips twitched, but he said nothing more. He put the money pouch in his pocket, then turned to leave. But after only a few steps, Moody stopped and turned back again.

“I have a question, Blaine—”

"Don't mention it, Professor Moody, please speak freely—"

Amosta still didn't look up.

“I’ve been curious about this for a while, Blaine—”

Professor Moody spoke in an excessively slow tone, as if he were deliberately emphasizing something.

"Can your surveillance scope be used underwater?"

Amosta finally put down his quill. He slowly raised his head and looked at Professor Moody standing in the center of his desk, his light expression and casual tone as if he were discussing with someone when the snow outside the window would finally stop.

"What's wrong, Professor Moody?"

"I was thinking, oh, I mean, wouldn't it be even better if it could be used underwater?"

Professor Moody calmly returned Blaine's gaze, his husky voice seemingly vanished, replaced by an ethereal quality.

"Your monitoring scope was a huge success in the first game, greatly enhancing the viewing experience. It would be wonderful if it could be useful in the next two games too. You know what I mean, Blaine, the second game is underwater. If your monitoring scope is useless, then the spectators will just be stuck standing on the lakeside—"

"hehe--"

Amosta, who was watching Moody, suddenly smiled.

"I thought I had done a good job of keeping it a secret, Professor Moody. I didn't expect you to know so much about the upcoming match?"

"you know--"

In response to Amosta's pointed remark, Professor Moody remained calm and said...

“I’ve worked for the Ministry of Magic for most of my life, Blaine. Although I’m retired now, I probably have more friends in the Ministry than you do. I don’t need to ask; they’ll bring me all the interesting news anyway—”

"Old Barty will be furious if he knew his department employees were scrambling to send out crucial information—"

Amosta smiled again, put the quill dipped in ink back into the ink bottle, and looked back at Moody.

Their gazes met in mid-air, silence mingling with joy.

"Not needed—"

After a long silence, Amosta said softly, "Apart from air, the presence of any medium will greatly interfere with the transmission of magical magnetic fields. Underwater, the monitoring mirror I invented is useless—"

"what--"

Their gazes remained locked, Professor Moody said.

"It's truly regrettable; people will be greatly disappointed."

“Who says otherwise—” Amosta said.

After another moment of silence, Moody nodded to Amosta.

"Thanks--"

Click——

As the office doors opened and closed, a cold wind sneaked in. Amosta, her hair ruffled, slowly sat down, her gaze fixed on the design drawings before her, her eyes sharp and intimidating.

After a while, Amosta turned his head to look out the window, placed one hand on his brow, and gently rubbed his furrowed brow, a hint of melancholy in his expression. The office, now empty of people, remained silent for a long time. Although the heat radiating from the fireplace made the air in the room feel as warm as if one were sitting on a spoon, for some reason, there was an inexplicable chill in the air.

In the far distance, a black dot suddenly appeared against the pale sky. Its trajectory was erratic in the howling winds high above, yet it stubbornly battled the cold, striving to approach the castle. An owl soared over the gradually freezing black lake, emitting several high-pitched hoots as it flew overhead.

The owl was clearly familiar with the castle; it crossed the area without looking around and plunged headlong into a room on the third floor.

Bang, bang, bang—

Although he was staring at the world outside the window, Amosta, lost in thought, didn't realize until he heard a knocking sound that an owl was trying to break into his office.

Amosta raised an eyebrow, quickly got up, walked to the window, opened it, and let the owl in.

The gray owl was probably freezing. Without waiting for Amosta's call, it hopped into the office, limped around, looked around, and then hopped over to the fireplace, spreading its wings to warm them in the flames.

Amosta was amused by the owl, which was just as lively as its owner. He chuckled and opened his water tank, taking out some snacks in exchange for the envelope that the owl was holding tightly in its beak.

"How is Sirius?"

cuckoo-

The owl, focused on warming itself by the fire and pecking at its food, let out a few lazy hoots.

The languid-looking owl cheered Amosta up a little. He rubbed the owl's head, then opened Sirius's letter and ignored it.

The letter was short, containing only a few lines, yet it made Amosta's expression turn serious. After pondering for a long time by the fireplace, he nodded to the owl at his feet.

"I need to go out for a bit. You can rest here for a while. I'll leave the window open for you. If you want to leave, just go ahead."

After giving his instructions, Amosta waved his hand, causing the design drawings on the table to jump into the drawer by themselves. He then hurriedly left his office and arrived at Dumbledore's office door twenty minutes later.

Chapter 674 A New Soul Weapon?

2024-01-03

"Amosta?"

Before Amosta could give the order, the two ugly stone monsters in front of Dumbledore's office door cleverly moved aside, making way for him.

When Amosta entered, Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk reading a letter. Judging from the seriousness of his expression, he seemed to have encountered some unusual situation. After recognizing who it was, he put down the letter, removed his half-moon glasses, rubbed his temples, and then put them back on.

Amos Tower's somber expression immediately made Dumbledore realize that he, too, had encountered some matters that required attention.

Fox, who was perched on the golden branch, looked listless before Amosta came in, but upon seeing him, he immediately raised his head excitedly, his ruby-like eyes sparkling as if he were expecting something.

As he passed by Fawkes, Amosta smiled at him, knowing that Fawkes had probably been in Dumbledore's office for too long and was eager to go out for a 'walk'.