The Return to Hogwarts

“Then we have to remind Professor Blaine!” Hermione bit her lip, her expression both tense and sad.

“Amosta can think of anything we can think of—” Remus gave a forced smile, “but the question is… what should we do?”

"Keeping everyone confined to the orphanage is the safest option; the power of the 'Loyalty Charm' is sufficient to protect them,"

Sirius was deep in thought.

"But the problem is, how do you convince so many Muggles to stay in this house? You understand, Hermione? There are over a hundred Muggles living here. You can't tell them that there's a magical, evil Dark Lord targeting them—that's a violation of the Wizarding Secrets Act. But besides that, how can you expect them not to go out? So many Muggles suddenly disappearing—I think that would cause concern and unrest in Muggle society—"

"It's unrealistic to expect complete secrecy, whether it's hiding it here or keeping it a secret from these Muggle kids—"

Remus and Sirius were seriously discussing this issue, completely forgetting about the three young wizards.

"Since you were able to find information about this Muggle orphanage, then others in the department must know about it as well. The only way to prevent them from leaving is to allocate manpower to guard the area. To avoid interfering with their lives, we'd need a large number of people to track and protect them, which even the department doesn't have the capacity for—"

The Wizarding Secrets Law --

Harry knew this, and he was well aware of the necessity of this law. Just look at the Dursleys' attitude towards magic; if Muggles suddenly learned that there were people in the world who could use magic, it would undoubtedly cause a huge uproar.

But he believed that if Voldemort didn't care about this, then Professor Blaine and Professor Dumbledore shouldn't care either.

If you're certain that these innocent children will be targeted by Voldemort, then just take them to Hogwarts, a place that's absolutely safe.

"What are you talking about?"

crunch--

The door creaked open, and a somewhat weary-looking Amosta slowly walked in.

That's what working at an orphanage is like. The children here range from babies who can't even roll over to teenagers who have already entered high school. Working here is nothing like a normal job where you can go home after dark. You have to take care of these children until everyone has finished washing up and gone to bed before you can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Perhaps it was the weariness in Amostella's eyes that moved Remus and Sirius, and they didn't want to add to his troubles, so the two of them tacitly refrained from telling the truth.

"We were just talking about the kids--"

Remus smiled and said,

“They look more energetic than the students at Hogwarts, Amosta, they are well taken care of.”

"That's true--"

Amosta shook his head, resting his buttocks on the edge of a desk.

"These little ones have an absolutely boundless amount of energy. Anyway—"

Amostella pinched the bridge of her nose, then her clear gaze swept across everyone's faces, finally settling on Sirius's face. Her tone was calm.

"Speaking of which, what exactly did you come here for? Don't tell me it was just a sudden idea, something to do for fun?"

A moment of silence fell as Sirius, Remus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances, hesitating about who should ask the question.

"That's right, Amosta—"

Finally, Remus let out a hoarse voice.

"Sirius arrived at Hogwarts yesterday and picked up Harry, Ron, and Hermione to spend the Christmas holidays at Grimmauld Place. We talked about the Dark Mark that appeared on the field during the Quidditch finals in the summer, and Hermione becoming a champion. Harry and the others have some clues, as well as some speculations—"

Then Remus recounted everything they had discussed, one by one. Hermione looked at Professor Blaine with some nervousness, because Professor Blaine had almost explicitly told them not to pay too much attention to Barty Crouch's affairs, but they had ignored his orders.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Amosta remained completely calm, even when he heard Hermione and the others guess that there might have been a Death Eater hiding in the empty seat next to Gilgamesh that night, and when they wondered if any Death Eaters had infiltrated Hogwarts. His expression never changed.

Finally, Remus revealed all the information they had. Everyone's eyes were fixed on Amostella. Harry, who was sleeping on the bunk above Ron, leaned half his body out over the railing, hoping to find some clues from Professor Blaine's expression.

"Amosta, who exactly is Barty Crouch—"

When Remus finished speaking, Amosta, who had been expressionless, revealed a faint smile. However, he first looked at the anxious Hermione, because he knew that most of the information Remus had just given was based on the clever girl's speculation.

"The only thing I can tell you is--"

When Amosta began to speak, everyone instinctively held their breath. His gentle voice seemed to possess a strange magic, soothing the fear and unease in their hearts about the increasingly shadowed future.

"Everything is going as expected, everything is going according to plan."

Chapter 729 Demon Cave

2024-02-01

Dozens of miles from Little Hangton, the vast wilderness begins to undulate slightly, with a few isolated hills nestled among a large expanse of farmland. These entirely rocky hills, which for most of the year exude the desolation of the countryside, have been draped in a somewhat respectable silver cloak by the recent snowfall.

The falling snowflakes were disrupted by the distortion of space, and under the dark gray sky, a figure wrapped in a hooded black cloak appeared in the deserted wasteland.

The newcomer appeared extremely vigilant. The moment she landed, her wary gaze under her hood quickly scanned the surroundings, and a wand held in a fair hand, no less white than snowflakes, was faintly visible under the cloak.

Shake, shake, shake—

The snow on the ground was knee-deep, blurring the boundaries between the ridges and farmland. The footsteps of visitors could only leave faint imprints on the soft snow, and judging from the speed at which the snow fell, these shallow imprints would disappear completely in just a few minutes.

The woman in black robes walked up the hillside, completely ignoring the winding, steep, and rocky paths. As if floating, she easily arrived at the halfway point of a rocky mountain on the west side.

After examining the area, the woman in black robes reached out her delicate hand and brushed away the snow clinging to the side of a sharp rock. On the rock, a ferocious, menacing venomous snake came into view.

She tapped the small snake on the rock with her wand, and then, a faint hissing sound suddenly rang out in the silent, desolate mountain. The venomous snake carved on the rock suddenly stretched its body, flicked its tiny tongue to sniff the air, and then, with a twist, quickly swam along the rock towards the mountainside, disappearing into the crevices of the rocks in the blink of an eye.

The feedback came quickly; just a few dozen seconds later, the little snake returned to the sharp rock, coiled its body, and peacefully closed its vertical pupils.

A heavy sound of rocks scraping against each other rang out, and sharp stones spun and rolled to the side, revealing a dark, foul-smelling cave entrance to the black-robed man's view.

Whoosh! A sudden gust of wind!

An undetectable dark shadow suddenly darted out of the cave entrance.

This was a huge venomous snake. It lunged at the visitor, its black scales scraping against the rocks with a metallic clang. In the chilly air, the snake bared its ferocious and bloody fangs, and the indifference reflected in its vertical pupils was colder than the snow covering the mountains.

The venomous snake charged at the newcomer with the ferocity of hunting prey. Its pale, sharp fangs were aimed straight at the newcomer's neck, until the gleaming tips of its fangs were only an inch away from the neck, at which point it suddenly stopped. Then, it flicked its tongue and gently licked the black-robed man's jaw a few times.

A strand of emerald green hair slipped out from under the hood, and the man in the black robe maintained a calm demeanor throughout.

hiss--

A fleeting, cruel glint flashed in the venomous snake's terrifying vertical pupils. It slowly retracted its body, giving the black-robed man a resentful glare before disappearing into the dark cave entrance.

Da, da, da—

The darkness at the cave entrance was like a curtain; once crossed, a faint, dim light squeezed into view, barely enough to illuminate the path ahead. The downward-flowing tunnel was very dry, and because it was located inside the mountain, it was much warmer than outside; the heat no longer left white trails in the air.

The cave has many deceptive forks, each seemingly ordinary fork concealing hidden dangers. If you take the wrong path, the price you pay will be your life.

The man in black robes followed the trail left by the venomous snake on the gravel ground, and after two minutes, his narrow field of vision opened up.

Before the black demon standing in the cave appeared a stone wall with a circular stone door on it. Nine lifelike stone-carved venomous snakes lay prostrate on the door, raising their heads and coldly staring at the newcomer.

The stone door was open, but the man in black robes stopped in his tracks.

Perhaps it was the faint chill emanating from behind the door, or perhaps it was the indistinct wails reaching their ears, but the black-robed figure, who had remained calm since appearing in the wilderness, showed a slight hesitation in the shadow cast on the sand by the firelight behind the door.

If fate exists, then there is no escaping it.

Blinking wearily, the man in black robes resumed his steps toward the stone gate, then stopped once more outside the threshold.

It was a square room with a hard stone floor, walls, and ceiling. The furnishings were very simple: a long table for dining and a few chairs neatly arranged around it. On the innermost wall, a simple fireplace had been carved out, its flickering flames and the wooden candlesticks on the table providing illumination.

The room was incredibly rudimentary; its only redeeming quality was that it was relatively clean. Not only the tabletop, but even the floor was spotless. However, the faint, lingering smell of blood in the air was impossible to shake off.

There is another door on the right wall of this room, and the pitiful screams heard earlier came from behind that door.

Staring at the door, the man in black robes seemed slightly lost in thought.

"Ah, the guests have arrived--"

A light, cold voice came from a chair with its back to the door and reached the ears of the man in black robes.

The house-elf kneeling beside the chair trembled violently upon hearing the sound, its expression hidden in the shadows, unseen by the man in the black robe.

The little elf stood up shakily and went behind the chair. As it slowly spun the chair, it kept its body deeply bowed. In that brief moment, the man in black robes saw the pain and fear brimming in the little elf's eyes.

Seated in a specially designed chair, resembling a children's high chair, was a monster whose skin was red and ulcerated as if from deep burns, and whose facial features were distorted and melted. It could barely be described as a three- or four-year-old child with no hair on its body.

The moment their eyes met, an overwhelming urge to vomit welled up in the black-robed woman's heart. This was not because of the monster's ugly appearance, but because the inky black magic emanating from the monster in the invisible world and the lingering wails filled her with deep disgust.

In the silence, Vitia lifted her hood, her cheeks still slightly pale in the firelight.

"Please come in, please come in, Miss Clona--"

Voldemort slowly put down the Daily Prophet, extended his withered hand towards Vitia, who stood outside the door, and gestured an invitation. He smiled, but his snake-like eyes held an unfathomable chill.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Miss Clona. Please come in and rest for a while—"

Vitia pursed her lips and walked into the room without saying a word.

"So, Sparkle?"

When he saw Vitia enter, Voldemort nodded in satisfaction. He turned his head slightly and called to the house-elf kneeling behind him.

"Great Dark Lord, it is my greatest honor to serve you—"

The little elf behind the chair tumbled and crawled to Voldemort's side, its forehead pressed against the ground, softly sobbing.

"Look, shouldn't we offer Miss Clona a cup of hot tea?"

Voldemort's polite tone was like that of a gentleman.

"I imagine Miss Creona must have come a very long way—"

"Glass will obey your command, Lord Dark Lord—"

Under Vitia's watchful eye, Flash quickly scrambled to the fireplace and shakily took the teapot and teacups from the mantel.