The Return to Hogwarts

"With the elves taking care of you, I believe you will recover quickly. Barty Percy will be very happy about that. He's been under a lot of pressure these past few days to prevent the International Department of Magical Cooperation from becoming a mess after you leave—"

After clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction, Amosta tossed the tea bags into two cups and then presented them to Barty.

"Percy?"

Old Batty seemed a bit taken aback, pausing for a few seconds before he reacted.

“You mean Weatherby? Oh, this young man is very passionate—” Barty’s tone was tinged with dissatisfaction, “very passionate, but he lacks experience in handling many issues!”

Amosta smiled, straightened up, and looked around.

"Can I use your restroom, Barty?"

"Oh, go down the corridor, turn left, and the second door is there—"

Watching Amosta walk away and disappear around the corner, Barty's cheek twitched subtly, and a hint of barely perceptible madness flickered deep in his eyes.

Click——

After the bathroom door closed, Amosta's lighthearted smile vanished, replaced by a somber expression. His penetrating gaze swept across the room, and he 'saw' Barty sitting on the sofa, holding a teacup, quietly waiting for him.

Amosta withdrew his gaze from the living room, focusing it on his feet, his eyes narrowed as he stared intently. After a moment, his body suddenly became ethereal, transforming into a shadowy figure in a blink of an eye, silently disappearing into the ground.

The anti-intrusion magic and spyglasses in the underground chamber immediately reacted to the intruder, but before these magical actions could be performed, a sharp glint flashed in Amostella's eyes as he reappeared in his new form. He suddenly waved his wand, instantly freezing all the magical flow in the chamber and paralyzing all the anti-intrusion facilities.

This is Barty's treasure room, a room the size of a classroom, neatly arranged with more than a dozen bookshelf-style shelves. Each shelf is filled with priceless treasures. Amosta even saw a golden gem the size of an infant's head resting on a nanmu wood base.

The shelves are mostly filled with antiques from various magical civilizations, possessing a long history and extremely high research value. On one wall of the secret room, many cold weapons with a cold gleam and elegant and beautiful designs are hung, clearly crafted by fairies skilled in crafting.

Amostah paused for only two seconds in front of a gleaming silver shield, his lips twitching slightly. If he remembered correctly, this was the very thing that had flowed from his hands. Ignoring the room full of collectibles that would drive most people mad, he strode to a dusty wooden crate leaning against the wall. After a brief, narrowed stare, Amostah raised his hand and slowly touched the crate's latch.

Chapter 689 Accountability

2024-01-12

The sealing magic on the clasp was somewhat peculiar, not in the style of a wizard, but more like the magic of fairies and elves. However, this still couldn't stop Amosta's spying. After casually freezing the repulsion magic on the clasp and sealing off the flow of sound around him, Amosta slowly opened the box.

Looking down into the space inside the box, Amosta's expression subtly changed, and he fell silent for a while.

Just as Amosta sensed, the space inside the box was not normal; it had been magically expanded. It didn't contain any priceless treasures, but rather a room.

Wooden steps led down to the bottom of a box several meters deep. The room was surrounded by a depressing light gray color, and the interior of the less than twenty-square-meter room was very simply furnished—a desk with a simple oil lamp, a clothes rack with a few shirts and jeans, a bed, and a toilet. That was all the furniture in this room that looked like a solitary confinement cell.

but--

A long chain, stained with blood, was fastened to the bedpost of the cot below, presumably to ensure that the imprisoned person could reach any part of the room.

The clothes hanging on the rack all looked like they were for young people, and the sizes were too big for Barty to wear, especially the little wizard's school uniform that was ironed without a single wrinkle.

Amosta blinked, suddenly remembering the family photo that had been torn in half when she entered the room.

Five minutes later, Amosta returned to the living room and looked at Barty Crouch on the sofa again, his mood becoming very heavy.

"You've been gone long enough, Amosta. Got an upset stomach?"

Barty's face was still pale. He stared at Amosta, who had sat back down beside him, a hint of suspicion flashing in his cold eyes.

"what--"

Amosta leaned back on the soft sofa and pursed her lips.

"I'm not feeling too well. Muggle breakfasts aren't really to my liking anymore."

"Speaking of which, Amosta, what exactly was the reason you had Weatherby write to me and insisted on visiting me?"

Barty was clearly getting impatient; he glared at Amosta with a sullen face.

"I imagine you went to all this trouble not just to help a little elf who's been kicked out of the house return to its owner, right?"

"What are you saying, Barty? We're friends, aren't we?"

Amosta laughed amiably, seemingly completely oblivious to the coldness and wariness in Baty's tone.

"Knowing that my old friend has health problems, even to the point that he has to give up his job and stay home to rest, shouldn't I visit him? Oh, of course—"

Before Barty could get angry, Amosta's tone changed abruptly. At the same time, the smile on his face vanished, his casual gaze sharpened, and the heavy aura he deliberately exuded startled Barty. For a moment, he almost reached for his wand and jumped away from Amosta.

"The reason I came to see you is actually related to the confidentiality of the championship event, Barty—"

Amosta said in a deep voice.

"Just a few days ago, while chatting with a colleague, I unexpectedly learned that he already knew the details of the second event of the Magical Championship. He told me that an employee of the Ministry of Magic had brought it up with him—"

Amosta's face clearly showed his displeasure.

"We agreed to keep it strictly confidential, didn't we, Batty? We can't let some of the bad habits from the previous Triwizard Tournament appear in this one."

We've poured so much effort into the tournament, but look, there are still almost three months until the second event, and leaks are already flying everywhere. I have reason to suspect that some Ministry of Magic employees are even using their access to inside information to rake in huge sums of money in the goblin-run betting market!

Amosta's questioning surprised Batistuta. He hadn't expected that Amosta's visit would be about the leak of information regarding the championship.

"This is not a problem with the International Department of Magical Cooperation, Amosta!"

Old Barty instinctively retorted,

"I gave orders to all the officials involved in planning the competition, forbidding them from leaking the competition details. The problem doesn't lie with me!"

"Oh?" Amosta pressed on, taking it a step further. "Can I take that, Batistuta, you think the problem lies with Ludo?"

“We all know Ludo’s style, Amosta!”

"Bati said firmly."

“I am neither an Auror of the Ministry of Magic nor a enforcer of the law, Barty. Investigating the truth is not my responsibility—”

Amosta stood up, waving his arms impatiently as he paced back and forth in front of Batistuta.

"The reality is that the Ministry of Magic is leaking crucial information like a sieve! I don't know if Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have managed to get their hands on the details of the second match and come up with a solution through brainstorming, while Dumbledore and I are still foolishly hoping that the Hogwarts warriors can meet the challenge with their own ingenuity."

"If it were up to me, you should have all the employees involved in planning signed confidentiality agreements. Of course, it might be too late now. So, how about we change the details of the second competition to ensure its fairness?"

Batistuta had been patiently listening to Amosta's rambling, but when he heard Amosta Blaine express a desire to change the match proceedings, his brow twitched, and he instinctively stood up as well.

"The match details must remain unchanged, Amosta!"

“Why, Barty?” Amosta narrowed his eyes.

"We've already broken too many rules in this competition!"

In just a few seconds, Batty had already come up with an explanation.

“We’ve limited the age of the warriors to participate in the competition, we’ve given Hogwarts two warriors, and we’ve broadcast the competition to the entire European wizarding world. Every change here has caused a huge controversy, Amostall. What will people say if we change the established competition format? And I think you haven’t forgotten that we’ve already given the hints for the second competition to four warriors.”

Baty's words seemed to have really convinced Amosta, who lowered his head, seemingly hesitant and lingering.

“Okay, regarding the issue of the leaked information about the match, Amosta—”

Barty pressed his advantage,

"I will write a letter to young Weatherby, instructing him to have all the employees in the company involved in planning the competition sign a magical contract to ensure that the details of the competition will not be leaked further. I will also ask Ludo to do the same!"

"But what's the use, Barty?"

Amosta sighed heavily.

"The news has already leaked out, and I believe many people have already found out."

"At least that ensures the safety of the third event, doesn't it, Amosta?"

After hesitating for a moment, Barty lowered his voice.

"If you feel the leak is unfair to the Hogwarts champions, Amostella, then you should personally mentor the two Hogwarts champions, especially that little girl. I think she has a good chance of winning the championship."

Chapter 690 Each Person's Dance Partner (Part 1)

2024-01-13

The week before Christmas, school had stopped. Although the teachers assigned a lot of homework to the fourth-year students for the holidays, Harry had no interest in doing his homework after the term ended. Instead, he played around like everyone else. Well, that's not entirely accurate. At least, like the other students in PE class, Harry didn't forget to do his daily morning exercises.

The silver coat that the last heavy snowfall had draped over the earth had not yet completely faded when, last night, when all was quiet, the sky began to fall again, and in just one day, the snow on the Quidditch pitch and the lawn had already piled up to the little wizard's knees.

Hermione's suggestion to do morning exercises was rejected by Harry and Ron, who were afraid of the cold. So, the three of them had to wade through the snow with uneven steps before dinner, which was more like a difficult walk than a run.

Fortunately, the three of them weren't the only ones in such a sorry state. After Harry had been wading in the snow for more than twenty minutes, Malfoy came over from the castle with Pansy and Astoria. Behind them were Crabbe and Goyle, who both looked reluctant.

"Hey, why are these two just standing there like idiots?"

The three of them brushed past Malfoy's group. Harry and Malfoy exchanged a glance, then simultaneously looked away. Ron glanced sideways at Crabbe and Goyle, who were standing on the bottom step of the stands, looking miserable and shivering from the cold, and asked breathlessly.

"Phew, that's obvious--"

The snow was making things a little difficult for Harry, who was used to running laps. He tried to catch his breath and said to Ron,

"Malfoy must have been provoked by Hermione. I mean, he definitely didn't take Hermione's sarcastic remarks to heart during that time in the gym class to heart."

"Humph--"

Hermione gave a haughty snort.

"I'm afraid Malfoy used a lot of persuasion to get them to leave the warm castle, but he couldn't convince Crabbe, Goyle, and you to work as hard as you do, could he?"

"Oh, you're making me feel a little embarrassed, Hermione—"

Ron said with a grin.