The Return to Hogwarts

"Don't do this, Harry!"

The rest of the students in the classroom—Pansy, Astoria, Ron, and Hermione—were all stunned by what was happening. Wasn't this supposed to be a duel? How had it suddenly turned into a life-or-death struggle?!

Hermione was the first to come to her senses. She screamed in despair and was about to rush forward to separate Harry and Malfoy from their entanglement. However, the instant she took a step—

Clang!

Suddenly, the classroom door burst open with a loud bang, and a figure stumbled and fell into the classroom.

Neville rubbed his arm and grumbled as he got up. He was still a little dizzy from the impact with the door, so much so that it took him a few seconds to realize that he wasn't the only one in the classroom.

The moment Neville saw what was happening, his face, which had become much thinner than when he was in the first or second year, froze in shock, so much so that his eyes popped out of their sockets!

Silence, stillness--

Apart from the crackling sound of torches being flickered by the cold wind, no one spoke, and Hermione, who was about to separate Harry and Malfoy, was also completely bewildered by Neville's unexpected entrance.

"I tried turning the doorknob for ages but couldn't open it. I thought the door was broken, so I just barged in."

Under everyone's gaze, Neville dropped his comical expression and said sheepishly,

"Am I disturbing you?"

Chapter 683 Lonely Soul

2024-01-10

Neville tried his best to hide his embarrassment and the pressure of being stared at by so many people, but his gaze kept drifting towards Harry and Malfoy. He saw the two of them entangled together, Harry pressing his wand against Malfoy's temple, while a menacing snake perched on Harry's shoulder. Neville was a veteran of gym class; it was no surprise who the snake belonged to.

"You wouldn't be—"

The broken windows continued to let in a steady stream of cold wind, and the torches on the classroom walls swayed wildly in the gale. The classroom was cold, but within half a minute, Neville was already drenched in sweat. He faced Hermione, his gaze fixed on the two people inside.

"Could it be that... it's actually—"

Hermione took a deep breath, turned and strode toward Harry and Malfoy with an expression that said, "I've had enough."

"Get your snake off Harry's shoulder, Malfoy, and that's the end of it!"

Hermione first grasped Harry's wand (Harry hesitated for a moment but said nothing), then looked at Malfoy, a dangerous glint in her brown eyes.

Under such intense gaze, Draco, who wanted to say something, avoided eye contact as if burned. He looked at Harry, twitched his nose, and seemed somewhat unwilling.

Snapped!

Draco slapped Harry's hand away with his free hand, then bent down to pick up his wand and waved it at the summoned black python, which immediately turned into smoke.

The first formal fight between the students of Amosta's physical education class turned into a friendly brawl. Fortunately, although the duel was dangerous, neither side suffered serious injury. In terms of victory or defeat, Draco could be said to have a slight advantage, but in terms of life and death, it was a draw.

"Watch your mouth, Longbottom!"

As Draco passed Neville, he gave him a cold, sidelong glance, casually tossed out a remark, and then left with Pansy and Astoria, leaving a flushed Neville standing there. Before leaving the classroom, Draco paused, turned to look at Harry, who was staring back at him without moving an inch.

Their eyes met in mid-air, and they both read disgust in each other's eyes, as well as other emotions they had never felt before.

"What exactly happened, Hermione—" Neville was already used to being insulted by Malfoy, so he quickly composed himself and asked in a slightly trembling voice.

"Let's talk about it later, Neville—"

Hermione dusted off the spot on Harry's shoulder where the snake had been, then glanced around the messy classroom and sighed softly.

"Let's clean this place up first. If other people come here to train later, I'm afraid this will cause problems."

Halfway through her sentence, Hermione suddenly seemed to remember something and stared at Neville again, her handsome face filled with seriousness.

“Neville, this time you can’t do what you did in the first year. If Professor Blaine finds out, he definitely won’t tolerate Harry and Malfoy’s behavior!”

After leaving Hogwarts, Amostella Apparated directly to London. Having left Hogwarts at the same time as Dumbledore, and with Vitia Criona still at the school, he didn't want to stay away for too long and originally planned to go directly to the Ministry of Magic.

But on second thought, if he acted too hastily, he might reveal some flaws.

Voldemort was not only a wizard with extremely high attainments in dark magic, but also a man of exceptional intelligence. Otherwise, there would be no reason why he could hide under Dumbledore's nose for so many years and even manage to bewitch so many loyal lackeys from noble families.

After some thought, Amosta sent a letter of inquiry to Barty Crouch's office, asking if he would have time to visit the day after tomorrow morning, as is customary.

Afterwards, Amosta found a Muggle hotel near the Ministry of Magic and stayed there.

The Ministry of Magic is located in the busiest part of London, a cosmopolitan city. Although Christmas is still more than ten days away and a light snowflake still occasionally falls from the sky, the festive atmosphere here is already quite strong. Every shop along the street has put up Christmas decorations, and behind the glass windows of tall buildings, there are colorful pictures of the white-bearded old man and dazzling lights.

The noise continued late into the night.

Standing behind the floor-to-ceiling glass window, Amosta silently watched the crowds below jostling and laughing, the sounds of which even the best soundproof windows couldn't completely block out. For a moment, he was lost in thought.

During the two years he wandered around after graduation, Amosta often kept track of what was happening in the Muggle world. But ever since he was brought back to Hogwarts two years ago by Dumbledore's commission, the affairs of the wizarding world have completely taken over his attention, and he seems to pay little attention to the Muggle world anymore.

Even the children and kind staff at the orphanage where he grew up rarely thought of them anymore.

With these thoughts lingering, Amosta's still young face revealed a sense of vicissitude and weariness, and he sighed softly.

Given his personality, he would rather live the life of a 'wandering knight' than become a 'famous Amosta Blaine' as he is now.

Unbeknownst to him, one event after another forged an even stronger bond between him and the British magical community, a bond that could never be severed. Whether out of his own volition or out of necessity, he was compelled to dedicate himself to the fate of the nearly one hundred thousand inhabitants of this country's magical civilization.

As his thoughts shifted, Amosta suddenly recalled the secret he had glimpsed in the kitchen's secret room at the centaur sanctuary and the entrance left by Hufflepuff.

If one day he really has the chance to return to Earth from his previous life, but the price might be that he can never return to this wonderful magical world again, then what should he do?

In his past life, the images and voices of his blood-related parents remained vivid in his mind. In that world, he had friends and lovers with whom he had a regretful breakup. What impact did his departure have on their lives? Would they want to see him again, to see him as an ordinary person again?

And in this world, if I were to truly leave, how many people would genuinely feel reluctant and saddened, or how many would celebrate with joy?

Time traveler.

Gazing at his illusory reflection in the glass mirror, Amosta grinned self-deprecatingly. Transmigrators can observe two or more worlds, their experiences seemingly wondrous and enviable, but in a way, they are like wandering ghosts, their hearts without a place to rest.

As I get older, I tend to become more sentimental as the old year turns into the new.

After a soft sigh, Amosta beckoned with her finger, and the huge cashmere curtains automatically closed, shutting out the bustling view outside the window.

Because of his restless mind the night before, Amosta, feeling listless, abandoned his plan to experience the Muggle world the next day. He neither studied magic nor pondered any complex questions, but simply lay in his room sleeping. It wasn't until the lights came on the second day that a sudden owl woke the somewhat disheveled Amosta.

The person who replied was not Barty Crouch, but Percy.

Looking at the official language on the letter, Amosta raised an eyebrow, then shook his head slightly and turned the letter into a wisp of smoke in his palm.

Chapter 684 Percy

2024-01-10

As the sun rises anew, its cool rays dispel the lingering joy of the night, and London is once again bursting with vitality.

Temperatures rose slightly today, but it was still very cold, which forced the soft snow to turn into ice. Pedestrians who were rushing to get to their destinations frequently slipped and fell on the streets.

Oh no!

At the subway entrance, a young woman wearing a light yellow coat and black high-heeled leather shoes finally managed to "fight" her way out of the crowded area, but accidentally stepped on the tiny ice crystals on the tactile paving for the visually impaired. She immediately lost her balance and fell backward, the paper cup of steaming black coffee she was holding flying backward as well.

Just when the woman thought she was doomed to a miserable state, a strong hand suddenly supported her back, helping her to steady herself.

"Thanks--"

The woman, who had regained her footing, patted her chest and took a few quick breaths. When she turned around, her beautiful face froze.

The person who had just helped her avoid embarrassment, and who might have even needed to go to the hospital, was a young man. This refined gentleman had soft, glossy gray hair that shone in the early morning sun, and his handsome features and upright posture would have made him a movie star. But what was most captivating about this man was his eyes.

The depths of those mysterious pale purple eyes seemed to conceal a starry sky, a flowing starry sky that seemed to possess a terrifying gravity; gazing deeply into it felt as if one's soul would be stripped away.

"You are welcome--"

Amosta smiled and handed the slightly hot paper cup to the Muggle girl.

"Oh, thank you--"

The Muggle girl, her cheeks flushed, hurriedly repeated her thanks. She was slightly taken aback when she noticed that not a drop of coffee had spilled from the paper cup she had just thrown out. She asked in surprise,

"how did you do it?"

"Oh, it's just a quick reaction, nothing serious--"

Amosta smiled.

"Well then, have a pleasant day, beautiful lady—"

Amosta nodded to the Muggle girl, then walked past her and disappeared into the distance.

On the bustling street, the girl watched the gray-haired man walk away quickly, biting her lower lip with a dazed look in her eyes. But when she noticed the man turn and walk into a small alley she had never seen before, she suddenly woke up.

Without thinking about how awful her supervisor's face would be if she was late, the young woman threw her coffee into the trash can and ran after him.

"Hey, wait a minute!"

Reaching the alley entrance, Louise brushed aside a few strands of pale blonde hair that had fallen in front of her eyes and called out to the gray-haired man's retreating figure.

"I am Louise—"

Louise's heart pounded as she faced the calm gaze of the gray-haired man who had stopped. She forced herself to suppress her panic.

"Louise Andale, that's my name. I'm a reporter for the London Daily News—"

"Hello, Ms. Andelle, I am Amosta Blaine--"

Amosta pursed her lips.

Is there anything else I can do to help you?