The Return to Hogwarts

Then, Ron's face disappeared from Harry's sight.

It seemed there was nothing else to do but stare blankly—Harry realized this as he sat on the edge of the bed, surrounded by noise, his head buzzing.

"How's Granger, Minerva?--"

The affected students were brought back by Professors Moody, Flitwick, and Sprout. Once the environment inside the university hospital was somewhat organized, they all gathered around Professor McGonagall to ask about the situation.

"Albus said that Granger's injuries are under control—"

After a short while, Professor McGonagall was also panting heavily. With Professor Sprout's support, she said in a low voice.

Even so, everyone could tell that things were probably not that simple, especially Professor Moody, who had been in close contact with Hermione and knew what the child had gone through.

Many people were injured, but fortunately, they were not seriously hurt; most of them were only slightly affected by the blast wave.

When Snape arrived, the school hospital was much more organized. The young wizards who had been watching outside had been driven away by Professor McGonagall and the others so as not to disturb the patients' rest.

"How is it, Severus?"

Upon seeing Snape enter, the professors who were resting in their chairs immediately surrounded him. Professor McGonagall looked worried and asked in a low voice,

"Any new information from Albus's side?"

Harry, forced to lie down on the hospital bed, twitched his eyelids slightly and immediately perked up his ears.

“Granger has been sent to St. Mungo’s by Dumbledore, and the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic will protect her safety—”

Snape glanced at the hospital bed behind Pomona. He immediately realized Potter was eavesdropping on their conversation, but he merely twitched his hooked nose and didn't confront him.

"Amosta also left; he said he was going to investigate the matter—"

Amostella returned to Hogwarts late the night before last, stayed for only two days, and then left the school again. Professor McGonagall simply pursed her lips, but she didn't feel angry at all.

Who planned this attack, and what was their purpose?

Several professors in the university hospital walked aside and started discussing something, but Harry strained his ears and couldn't hear them clearly.

Harry slowly opened his eyes and looked at Ron's sickbed.

The curtains obscuring the hospital bed fluttered in the breeze, and Ron's pale face flashed briefly in Harry's eyes before being hidden behind the curtains again. The pale sunlight outside the window was somewhat dazzling, but lacked warmth. The breeze blowing into the ward was quiet, a quietness that was almost oppressive.

There was another commotion outside the hospital. Harry could hear Hagrid's heavy footsteps from afar, as well as the voices of Madam Maxim and Professor Karkaroff.

Professor McGonagall hurried past his bedside to quiet them down, while Harry quickly closed his eyes, turned his head to the other side as if to rest, and his fists were clenched tightly under the covers, his nails digging into his palms.

Chapter 750 Villains

2024-02-09

London, South Heisman Street.

Adjacent to the residential area is a filthy, winding river shrouded in a thin mist, its banks overgrown with weeds and littered with piles of garbage.

The tall chimney of an abandoned mill is the tallest building in the nearby residential area. Under the low-hanging night sky, the chimney stands tall, eerie and ominous.

There was no sound except for the dark, mournful murmur of the river in the dead of night. There was no sign of life, except for a lean fox that lingered on the riverbank, hopefully sniffing at a few pieces of fried fish and potato chip wrappers hidden among the tall weeds.

Just then, with a soft "plop," a slender, hooded figure appeared out of nowhere on the riverbank. The fox was stunned, its wary eyes fixed on the strange newcomer.

Standing still, the newly appeared figure's gaze fell on a wall beside her covered with bizarre graffiti. She searched for a mark among the patterns that had no artistic or logical basis, and after a moment, she found the information she wanted to confirm.

After nodding in satisfaction, the woman in the gray trench coat looked around to make sure no one was watching, then quickly walked into a cobblestone alley.

This is a maze of alleyways. The narrow lanes, the flickering streetlights, and the dilapidated houses on both sides that are almost identical can give people the illusion that no matter how long they walk, they feel as if they are standing still.

But the woman in the gray trench coat had a clear goal; she moved quickly through the alleyways, her footsteps jarring in the silence. She walked through alley after alley, seemingly unconcerned about the evil that might lurk in this mostly dark Muggle neighborhood.

And so, the woman in the trench coat arrived at the depths of the maze of dilapidated brick houses, stopping in front of a house with broken windows boarded up.

Looking around, there weren't many rooms with lights on in this area, and the house in front of me didn't have any electric lights. Only when you got closer could you see that the room was filled with flickering candlelight, which was greatly diminished by the oil-stained gauze and nailed wooden boards.

The woman in the trench coat stood in front of the door for a moment, calming her breathing disorder caused by her hurried walk, and then knocked on the wooden door, which was covered with a layer of paper pulp, at a specific frequency.

"Come in, Jasna, you know I'm the only one in here—"

A flippant voice then came from inside the house.

This is a house that is consistent inside and out. The paint on the walls inside the house has been exposed to a dark and damp environment for a long time and has turned to sand. Even the slightest vibration when the door is opened causes the peeling paint to turn into dust and fall down.

The space, which is only about 20 square meters, combines a living room, bedroom, kitchen, and toilet. There is a gas stove on the wall near the window, and the trash can next to the stove is full of moldy and rotten potatoes. Opposite the entrance door, next to the bed, is a toilet that is cracked from the bottom up.

Don't expect to find a sofa or TV in a room like this. A sloping but fully lacquered coffee table in the center of the room is the last vestige of decorum.

After entering the room, Jasna finally took off her hood, revealing her long, shoulder-length, glossy brown curly hair that cascaded over her shoulders, even in the dim candlelight.

She glanced around the room, ignoring the blond young man who had made the noise earlier, leaning against the headboard with his legs crossed and propped up on the edge of the bed, engrossed in a Muggle magazine featuring mostly sexy women in lingerie. Instead, her gaze fell on a middle-aged man standing in the corner like a clothes rack.

Calling him middle-aged isn't quite accurate. Judging from the smoothness of the skin on his wrists and neck, this man seems to be only in his twenties. However, his sloppy shirt and stubble make it easy to misjudge his age.

Jasna strolled up to the man who stood ramrod straight like a clothes rack, carefully examining his ashen skin and the bloodshot whites of his eyes, as if admiring a work of art.

"Not bad, Aeschylus--"

A moment later, Jasna's lips moved, revealing a contemptuous smile.

"Oh, thank you--"

The blond youth named Aeschylus said in a nonchalant tone, already engrossed in the magnificent ravines depicted in those magazines.

"I really don't understand--"

Jasna withdrew her gaze, clasped her hands behind her back, and gracefully twirled around the cramped room. The alluring curves of her full hips were captivating. Aeschylus, like a cat that had caught the scent of fish, sprang to his feet and greedily stared at Jasna's swaying hips encased in her dark blue skinny jeans.

Looking around the room again, her gaze swept over the cracked toilet and then recoiled as if burned, a deep disgust surfacing in her cold eyes.

How can these Muggles tolerate such a terrible environment?

"There's nothing strange about it—"

Gollum—

Aeschylus swallowed hard.

"Beasts certainly possess an extraordinary tolerance in this regard—"

Aeschylus said, still staring at Jasna with a lecherous look.

“If you dare look at me like that again, I’ll turn you into something just like this Muggle, Aeschylus—”

Jasna finally could no longer tolerate Aeschylus's offensive gaze; her face was frosty, and her wand was faintly visible beneath her sleeve.

Seemingly realizing that Gassna was not lying, Aeschylus reluctantly looked away, but then quickly held up the magazine in his hand again.

"What exactly are you doing here?"

While admiring the sizzling Muggle women in the magazine, Aeschylus asked lazily.

"Believe me, Aeschylus, I absolutely do not wish to see you unless absolutely necessary—"

Jasna straightened up, the contours of her chest pressing against her black turtleneck sweater.

“Mr. Raman sent me to ask you—”

Jasna's sharp gaze seemed to pierce through the magazine, staring directly at Aeschylus's bluish face.

"How did your mission go? Did you send that item out?"

"What do you say?"

Aeschylus turned a page in the magazine, and as if he had come across something exciting, his crossed legs began to twitch with excitement.

"If that's the case, why are you still here?"

Jasina's voice suddenly turned cold.

"You don't actually think it's safe to hide here, do you? Even if the British Ministry of Magic is just a bunch of idiots left, they can still track you down here. Or do you think Albus Dumbledore and Amostrade Blaine will just watch that Mudblood warrior go down without investigating who's behind it all?"

"Don't be nervous, Jasina—"

Realizing he couldn't continue living so leisurely, Aeschylus sighed resignedly. He rolled the magazine into a ball and stuffed it into his pocket. After rubbing his red eyes, he jumped out of bed and stretched.

“Hogwarts is on holiday right now, so Hermione Granger will have to wait at least another week to get our ‘gift’—”

"If she stayed on at school, maybe she would—"

"I used a little trick—"

Aeschylus picked up his jacket from the foot of the bed and said with a hint of smugness,

"That item will be officially given out after the start of the school year."

Jasina paused for a moment before continuing.

"Now that you've completed the task Mr. Raman assigned you, you should leave quickly. It would be strange if the British Ministry of Magic didn't close the border. According to our information, Amosta Blaine and Cacus Foley have a close relationship, which may mean that the smuggling route we used before is no longer safe—"

"Oh--"

Aeschylus raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, thank you, Jasna, that's a good reminder—"

Under Jasna's questioning gaze, Aeschylus narrowed his blue eyes and revealed a mocking smile.

"Perhaps I can give them another surprise."