The Return to Hogwarts

"--I'm in Cockworth, yes, that's the place, that's my name."

Amosta paused for a moment.

"Oh, I'll tell you when you see me--"

Beep--beep--beep--

Kingsley, who had some knowledge of Muggle technology, knew that the person on the other end of the phone had interrupted the conversation.

“Mr. Blaine—”

The scattered Aurors gathered around in a daze. Kingsley moved his dry, cracked lips and spoke in a hoarse, deep voice.

Amosta was pondering why the voice on the phone felt somewhat familiar. It was this familiarity that made him wary, neither revealing his own name nor asking the other person's.

Kingsley's call brought him back to his senses. Amostella looked at Kingsley and the group of sweating Aurors, and smiled at them.

"Was anyone hurt?"

"No--"

Kingsley whispered,

"It's all thanks to you. Otherwise, the Auror office would have been completely destroyed, and we probably wouldn't have had the chance to go to St. Mungo's for treatment."

"Don't say that, Kingsley—"

Amosta's expression was gentle.

"Since you followed my advice, I should have helped you avoid these risks. Ah, of course, as you can see, we did nothing of the sort—"

"What exactly is going on, Mr. Blaine?"

Kingsley still felt a chill run down his spine when he recalled the explosion, and he couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, that's obviously it—"

Amosta turned around and looked at the house, which had been swept away by the strong wind and was now nothing but a pile of debris and ruins.

"Our actions were anticipated. The killer knew we'd probably find the Muggle who delivered his packages and made preparations beforehand. What a clever little devil, trying to surprise us. Well then, let me see—"

Under everyone's watchful eyes, Amosta raised his wand once more, his movements as elegant and rhythmic as if he were conducting a symphony.

The sun finally dipped below the horizon, and the city lights and the pale, powerless moon took over its duties.

As the wand swirled, a strange breeze arose, as if a black hole had appeared on the site of the former house, endlessly drawing something from all around. As time passed, under the dim light of the streetlights, the glow on the site gradually formed a clear image.

The first thing that came into view was the scene of the exploding Infernal. Even after seeing it again, the battle-hardened Aurors were still shaken. They secretly glanced at the back of Blaine, who was casting a spell, their eyes filled with almost overflowing reverence.

Time is rapidly reversing, flowing backward at a speed hundreds of times faster than normal.

However, the images projected into the air contained very little valuable information. During the more than ten minutes of playback, no suspicious persons appeared near the house, and no one entered the house. Only a government employee in work clothes knocked on doors one by one, seemingly registering residents' check-in information. After knocking on the door and receiving no response, he left and went to the house next door.

Until the very end of the retrospective, the house remained quietly situated in an ordinary corner of the refugee camp, without any apparent problems. However, Amosta's brow furrowed.

"Normally, we shouldn't only be able to see these few days. The traces have been erased, interesting--"

Amosta showed no annoyance; instead, he smiled with considerable interest.

"I must say, this call came at just the right time. I suspect we'll get some valuable information from the Muggle girl who's coming here later—"

Chapter 760 It’s you

2024-02-15

The Aurors removed the magical barrier that had surrounded them, and before that, they restored the small house where the Infernal had been to its original state.

"But what about this Muggle named Frazier?"

Kingsley watched as the wooden-paned window of the house came together from its scattered state to become a single piece, then flew up and embedded itself in the wall. His worried gaze fell on Amosta Blaine, who was standing in the doorway looking into the house, and he said in a low voice.

Frazier's body was used as a human bomb by the dark wizard who controlled him. In the terrifying explosion, his flesh was completely destroyed by the high temperature and scorching fire, leaving not a single piece of cloth on his body. How were they going to explain this to the Muggles who were rushing over?

If you tell that Muggle directly that her acquaintance was wiped out in the explosion, she will definitely call the police, right?

This matter has become troublesome enough by now, and Kingsley would rather not involve Muggle law enforcement officers if possible.

"In urgent situations, expediency is key."

Amosta said. A naturally chipped brick flew up from the corner of the wall, enveloped in light, and in a complex transformation of the human body, the body of the young Muggle who had just self-destructed reappeared and lay back on the bed.

Amosta's actions were not unexpected, but they were clearly not in accordance with the rules.

"--I used a Permanent Transformation Charm on him; I have to give something back to this Muggle's family."

Amostah's voice was heavy, and Kingsley's eyes, which were lowered, flashed with anger.

Even if Amosta Blaine wasn't personally overseeing the case, Albus Dumbledore was keeping a close eye on it, and they had to bring the killer to justice.

They hadn't seen anyone so audacious in a long time, almost openly murdering Muggles, turning them into Inferi, and using them as bait to set a trap, nearly causing heavy losses to the Ministry of Magic's elite Aurors. For committing such a heinous crime, the mastermind behind it all might as well not even go to Azkaban.

"There's no need for so many people to stay here; it seems very strange."

After the Aurors, having restored the surroundings to their original state, landed back in front of the house, Amosta looked at the alleyway, which was now completely blocked, and said to them,

"Kingsley, leave four or five people behind, including yourself, and the rest—"

Looking at the group of Aurors dressed in black coats and wide-brimmed hats, Amosta thought for a moment.

"And those of you who stay, you also need to change your attire—"

It must be said that the Aurors are indeed the elite of the Ministry of Magic. Amostella thought that the few Aurors left behind would dress up in a flashy manner, but to her surprise, they actually looked quite convincing.

"Disguise and concealment are essential courses for Aurors, Mr. Blaine. Those who cannot pass these two courses cannot do this job as an Auror—"

Noticing the surprise in Amosta Blaine's slightly furrowed brows, Kingsley's lips twitched, and he spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Hehe, yeah, I've discovered it--"

Amosta smiled.

"The quality of the Ministry of Magic's employees isn't as bad as the Daily Prophet and the public claim. Perhaps you simply lack a wise and capable leader—"

Kingsley didn't reply, and the Aurors who were on guard around could only twitch their lips and turn their heads away to hide their expressions. Amost Blaine certainly didn't need to fear the Ministry, but if the Minister of Magic found out that they were talking badly about him in private, their fate would certainly not be good.

A pale moon peeked out from behind strangely shaped clouds. As night deepened, a layer of mist gradually rose from the winding river beside the residential area. Disturbed by the biting wind, the mist opened its menacing maw and slowly devoured the dilapidated settlement.

Every now and then, a few crows would fly over Amosta's head, leaving only their mournful cries. From time to time, the calls of wandering foxes could be heard from the wastelands on both sides of the river. Their cries were like those of a human infant who had lost its protection, sharp and helpless, adding a touch of eeriness to this forgotten place.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, the alley is too narrow here. I can only take you this far—"

Inside the Muggle taxi, the driver, who had been craning his neck and measuring the width of the alley with his eyes for a while, leaned back in his seat and turned to look at the young girl in the back seat.

"It's alright, I can manage the rest of the way myself. I think it shouldn't be too far—"

Louise brushed aside a few strands of golden hair that had fallen in front of her eyes, revealing a forced smile, her eyes flickering as she tried her best to hide the unease and panic in her heart.

"Okay, good luck, ma'am--"

It was late at night, and it was obviously unsafe for a girl to be alone in this chaotic area. The driver tried to persuade Louise to find a friend to pick her up, or if it wasn't urgent, to come back at another time. After being refused, the driver took the banknotes the girl handed him and shrugged helplessly.

Although she had just told the taxi driver that she wasn't afraid, as the roar of the taxi engine gradually faded into the distance and the headlights became faint in her vision, an uncontrollable panic rose from the bottom of Louise's heart, causing her body to tremble slightly.

The dim streetlamp not far from her went out with a hissing sound of electricity, and the surrounding environment suddenly became real. A sound coming from the opposite bank of the river, which was made by some kind of animal but sounded very much like the wailing of a female ghost, made Louise take a quick step back, her thin back pressed against the cold brick wall.

The cold wind passing by made Louise wrap her coat tighter around herself, and regret and fear showed in her beautiful eyes.

She had to admit that she had acted impulsively.

Just because of information provided by a stranger on the other end of the phone, she came to this desolate wilderness without considering the consequences. The man on the phone could very well be a criminal who tricked her into coming here to kidnap her or do something else!

"Oh, don't be afraid, Louise—"

The girl hugged herself tightly, her fists clenched inside her sleeves.

"You're so worldly-wise, aren't you? This won't scare you—"

The extinguished streetlights made the dim yellow light behind the dirty glass window of a house not far from her right suddenly more noticeable. Her gaze drifted involuntarily toward it, and once her eyes settled on it, a chilling coldness rose from her tailbone, climbed up her spine to the top of her head, and made Louise's scalp tingle!

Behind the window was a man's face pressed against his skin. The man had disheveled hair and a tangled beard, and his eyes were filled with longing as he stared at him. When he realized he was being watched, instead of showing any fear, he grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth and a foolish smile.

"what!"

A terrified, high-pitched cry pierced the night, startling a flock of crows into flight.

Louise, no longer able to process her fear—or perhaps already blinded by it—frantically tried to rush into the dark alleyway, and then—

Just as she rushed into the darkness, a pair of young, pale, but very strong hands suddenly reached out from the deep alley.

These hands gripped Louise's arms, stopping her from moving any further.

"let me go!"

Louise's tears immediately streamed down her face. Terrified, she struggled frantically, trying to break free from the grip of those hands.

"Please calm down. Hmm--"

The owner of those hands finally spoke, and it wasn't hard to hear a hint of surprise in his voice, as he hadn't expected this Muggle girl to be involved in this matter.

If I remember correctly--

Amosta stepped forward, his slightly bewildered face finally revealed in the dim light. He stared at the Muggle girl before him, whose expression was distorted, and finally understood why the voice on the phone felt vaguely familiar.

"You are... um, Miss Louise Andelle, a reporter for the London Daily?"

Louise's heart skipped a beat, and she immediately stopped struggling.