The Return to Hogwarts

Amosta's tone was icy.

"You don't care whether Hermione Granger lives or dies, but you know that after what happened to her, Dumbledore and I will be furious and will do everything in our power to find out the truth behind this and punish the mastermind behind it. You ordered your adopted daughter to participate in the betting with the goblins and to place a bet that was obviously illogical in order to leave clues."

You are well aware of Dumbledore's extensive network and my relationship with the goblins. If Dumbledore and I hadn't successfully drawn our attention to your organization, then this lead would have successfully directed our attention to you, ultimately…”

Amosta glanced at Grindelwald.

“We will approach Nurmengard.”

Adam Vogel's lips twitched, but he didn't say anything.

"You want Dumbledore and me to walk into this cage that no one has set foot in for half a century, and you want us to believe that Grindelwald was behind the attack on Hermione Granger."

The Grindelwald you imagine, the Grindelwald you've heard about, is arrogant and disdainful of explanation; here, another 'battle of the century' is about to erupt.

Or it doesn't matter if Grindelwald defends himself; he will eventually be 'inspired' by me or Dumbledore, and thus be roused to leave Nurmengard and lead you in a new 'holy war.'"

"Failed"

Adam Vogel's voice was hoarse, like that of a traveler trapped in the desert, with no water to drink under the scorching sun.

Amosta looked down at Vogel, and to be honest, he had a certain amount of respect for the man.

Vogel should have known very well that once the investigation into Hermione's attack began, sooner or later their organization, those wizards still obsessed with that arrogant, unattainable dream, would be exposed—the 'treasure' that these people had painstakingly preserved for half a century while hiding in the shadows.

In order to persuade the prisoners of Nurmengard to 'come out of the mountains,' he resolved to give up everything.

His intelligence is equally commendable.

Jasna Rozier and Angus Aeschylus were clearly chosen for the mission after careful consideration.

But he ultimately failed.

It wasn't Amosta and Dumbledore's sanity that led to his downfall; the ultimate reason for his failure was that he mistakenly believed one thing: that Gellert Grindelwald was still alive.

"You have betrayed yourself."

Adam Vogel ignored Amosta's analysis and looked at Gellert Grindelwald with despair in his eyes.

The time had come to settle this matter. Amostah showed no confusion and had no further interest in saying anything to Adam Vogel.

call out!

Amosta beckoned with his finger, and the square eye that had landed under the table flew into Amosta's palm. He stared intently at the eye, and after a long while, a flame ignited the eye. Amidst a faint, indistinct roar emanating from the void, the eye was quickly melted away, leaving not even a trace of ash.

I won't kill you--

Amosta said calmly.

"Go to Azkaban."

Then a flash of red light appeared, and Adam Vogel collapsed to the ground.

The sound of avalanches crashed against the cliff, and fine snowflakes rushed up the cliff from the bottom, enveloping Nurmengard in a surging snow fog.

Amosta stood at his desk, gazing at the mountains, quietly admiring the scenery he had never seen before.

The thunderstorm in the sky grew increasingly gloomy, and the startling flashes of lightning dispersed the snow clouds, diluting the chill in the air.

After watching for a while, Amosta lost interest in the view outside the window; it was too lonely.

In comparison, he still preferred the view from his Hogwarts office window, where he could see not only the imposing mountains and the profound Forbidden Forest, but also the young wizards frolicking on the lawns and Quidditch pitches of the school.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts--"

Amosta turned around, put his hands in his pockets, and glanced at Gellert Grindelwald, who seemed oblivious to everything happening in the room and was lost in his own world. His friendly tone was as if he were saying goodbye to an old friend.

"Is there anything you need me to tell Dumbledore?"

The wrinkled hands holding the newspaper remained steady, though the wind blowing into the room made Grindelwald's gray hair and the newspaper in his hands sway.

But in the end, he did not lift his eyes, which were covered by a layer of white film, nor did he make a sound.

"So,"

Amosta smiled, took something out of his pocket, and gently placed it on the desk, which was covered with newspapers and had very little space left.

"I wish you good health, Mr. Grindelwald."

After saying that, Amosta left without lingering and strode out of the cell with Adam Vogel.

The old man in the cell quietly turned the pages of the newspaper, one after another, until the thunderclouds darkened the sky above Nurmengard to the point of darkness.

Unable to read the words clearly anymore, he finally folded the newspaper. He slowly got up and went to his desk, staring blankly at the empty snowfield in front of Nurmengard, where no one was to be seen.

Silence, eternal silence.

The old man's cloudy gaze fell on the table, on a gold pocket watch—something left behind by Amosta Blaine.

Click!

The old man did not touch the antique yet exquisite gold pocket watch, but as if sensing the gaze, the mechanism of the pocket watch automatically popped open, and another photo of an old man and a girl appeared before his eyes.

Familiar with

The two people in the photo looked so familiar. Uncontrollably, he reached out and picked up the pocket watch, holding it in front of his eyes and staring at it. As time passed, his hand holding the pocket watch began to tremble.

Wow!

It rained in Nurmengard, which is frozen year-round.

Chapter 804 An Explanation to the Magic World

2024-03-15

"--With the strong support of the Ministries of Magic of England and Germany, Vice President Wip Dregern of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Mr. Barna Gerson of Gringotts headquarters, this evil organization that had parasitized the European wizarding world for many years and committed numerous crimes was finally destroyed. As for those innocent Muggles who died, I sincerely suggest that we observe three minutes of silence to mourn their misfortune!"

Silence fell, and a somber atmosphere enveloped the reception hall of the British Ministry of Magic.

At the forefront of the crowd were the Ministers of Magic from England and Germany, whom Amosta had just mentioned, as well as Whip and the old goblin Barna. They were all silent at the moment, and it was hard to say how much of their complex and unnatural expressions were for the Muggles who had been brutally murdered.

Kingsley stood behind Amelia. Even with his head bowed, he was still a head taller than the wizards around him. He glanced around and felt a moment of disorientation. In his memory, the last time the reception hall was packed with so many reporters was when Amosta held a press conference after killing the werewolf Greyback.

Suddenly, Kingsley's gaze sharpened, fixing on Dolores Umbridge, dressed in a pink business suit, to his right front. The coldness hidden in the eyes of this Senior Undersecretary of Magic sent a chill down Kingsley's spine.

Three minutes later, the once quiet reception hall erupted as if it had been hit by a bomb, with a deafening roar and flashing lights instantly filling Amosta's entire field of vision.

When they realized they couldn't break through the batters guarding the high platform, the reporters started yelling at the top of their lungs, desperately trying to make their questions stand out.

"Mr. Blaine!"

A male reporter, with his strong physique, surged to the front of the crowd, shouting...

"Do you support sentencing those dark wizards to death?"

Regarding this issue--

Amusta raised his hand to calm the overly agitated male reporter.

"I have already given a general explanation in the previous narrative, and now I can emphasize it again."

The decision on how to convict these dark wizards is not something any one person can make. In the coming period, the national ministries of magic, where the organization has established strongholds, will work with the International Wizarding Federation to form a temporary tribunal. Members of this tribunal will carefully examine the severity of the crimes committed by the arrested dark wizards and render appropriate sentences.

"What kind of punishment will it be!" another reporter exclaimed.

"Regarding this issue, the parties have not yet reached a complete consensus. The preliminary agreement is that wizards who have committed serious crimes will be imprisoned in Ursktar and Azkaban respectively. The corresponding sentences are still under discussion. It is possible that some wizards who have committed extremely serious crimes will be sentenced to death. Those who have committed less serious crimes will be subject to huge fines, and they will be confined to a fixed area and required to report to the Ministry of Magic regularly."

Amosta said solemnly.

“Oh, Merlin’s beard, stand firm, Bozo, do you think the wizarding community should bear any responsibility for this?”

Rita Skeeter's exquisite makeup was a complete mess amidst the crowd. Her short stature put her at a disadvantage compared to her peers, and she had to have her assistant lift her up to attract Blaine's attention. However, her questions remained as sharp as ever, successfully making the leaders of the wizarding community present break out in a cold sweat.

“Excellent question, Ms. Skeeter—”

Amosta nodded in approval, remaining serious.

"We need to look at this issue rationally."

First, in my personal opinion, we need to work with the Muggle government to provide a reasonable explanation and make appropriate compensation for the families of those Muggles who died. After all, their lives were lost at the hands of wizards, and they deserve an explanation.

As for whether national ministries of magic and even the International Wizarding Federation should bear responsibility for oversight, I don't think we should be overly critical. As I explained, this organization has a long history and certain historical factors, and in order to conceal itself, they have a very sophisticated system of methods.

Listening to Amostella's defense of the various national ministries of magic, even Whip Dregorn secretly breathed a sigh of relief. In this matter, the only one qualified to defend himself was Amostella Blaine.

One sharp question after another was thrown at him, but Amosta remained calm and composed, responding methodically and providing flawless answers.

"The temporary court will be chaired by Vice President Whip Dregern. Each of the national ministries of magic, the Merlin Medal Jury, and the Anti-Dark Magic League will appoint one member to serve as a councilor. Some well-known figures in the magical world will also be invited. The goal is to complete all the review work before Easter."

Amosta delivered the final summary.

But the reporters in the audience were still not satisfied and tried to dig deeper into the secrets hidden behind the incident.

For example, Amosta Blaine said that the existence of this organization has some historical factors. What kind of historical factors are they?

For example, in that battle that caused such a commotion on the outskirts of Berlin, Amosta stated that he killed some fiercely resisting dark wizards. How many were there exactly, and why did the German Ministry of Magic and the Federation jointly seal off the concentration camp that Muggles called Sachsenhausen?

For example, Amosta claims that these dark wizards used Muggles for experiments. What kind of experiments were they, and what methods were used?

Amosta did not address many of the questions, but the Ministry of Magic employees, who had been advised by Amosta beforehand, swarmed around and, half-pushed and half-invited, led the reporters to a spacious banquet hall, where they were served fine wine and food, along with a few small gifts of modest value.

I still believe—

Watching the reporters being escorted away, Vip, with a complicated expression, walked up to Amosta and looked at the slightly tired Amosta, saying...

"You are more suitable to serve as the presiding judge of the provisional court, after all..."