The Return to Hogwarts

They even bluntly asked if he had gotten into some kind of trouble.

Amosta showed no outward change, but inwardly he became wary.

"What's wrong, Lawrence? Why did you suddenly bring up Potter?"

Amosta displayed just the right amount of surprise and confusion.

Seemingly struggling with his inner turmoil, Lawrence's breathing quickened, and a flush rose to his normally pale face. He hesitated, unsure whether he should be honest with Young Master Blaine.

Although what happened that day was completely incomprehensible, he could keenly sense that there was a conspiracy behind it. If he told the young master, would it drag him into a dangerous vortex? Those people possessed such abilities. But what if the conspiracy itself was aimed at young master Blaine?

The boy named Harry Potter was the young master's student. He sent things to the orphanage. He knew about the Hass Orphanage and was obviously trusted by the young master. However, the things he sent were used by two people with godlike powers to kill the postman.

Lawrence had been thinking about this repeatedly lately, and no matter how he looked at it, it was inextricably linked to the young master.

Suddenly, Lawrence was startled. He had been overwhelmed by the joy that the young master had actually come here because of that letter, and he remembered something.

How did the young master manage to get into his room last night without alerting anyone?!

Admittedly, the manor's security is not as strong as it used to be. However, it is still not easy for an untrained ordinary person to sneak in unnoticed. But if the young master is like those two assassins and can suddenly appear in a place, then entering the manor would be a piece of cake.

Once he started thinking about it, Lawrence felt increasingly uneasy.

He investigated the young master, but apart from the orphanage, he couldn't find any trace of the young master's activities in society. There was no educational background, no employment record, no credit card spending record, and no record of house purchases. It was as if the young master was a transparent person.

"Lawrence?"

Amosta narrowed his eyes; his powerful mental strength had already sensed some vague thoughts in Lawrence's scattered thoughts.

Lawrence, who was lost in speculation, was startled by the sound. Instinctively, he took two steps back, moving away from Amosta who was standing right next to him.

"what happened?"

Amosta's expression returned to its gentle and composed state.

"Judging from your expression and eyes, it's as if you suspect me of being a criminal who has done something wrong?"

Lawrence stared intently at the face beside the table that resembled the old man, his expression complex, his lips dry.

"Young Master--"

Lawrence called out hoarsely, and this time, Amosta didn't correct his form of address, but simply remained listening.

"Please take a look at this first."

As he spoke, Lawrence reached into the inside pocket of his tailcoat and pulled out a newspaper.

Amosta glanced at the newspaper. Judging from the worn condition of the paper, folded into a square and with faded, blurred text visible through the creases, Lawrence had probably read the Daily Mail many times.

Lawrence unfolded the newspaper, skillfully flipping through the front and second pages. When he got to the third page, he folded it a few times, presenting him with the news he wanted Amosta to see.

A photograph shows a middle-aged man in a Muggle post office uniform lying in the rain, with a bicycle and scattered packages beside him.

"Orphanage?"

With just one glance, Amosta confirmed, based on the background of the photo, that this was the street where the Hass orphanage was located.

Lawrence nodded.

"This happened the day I went to the Hass Orphanage for a donation ceremony."

Amosta scanned the text on the newspaper:

Deakent Boos, a postal clerk, was found dead on Flink Avenue while making his routine mail deliveries. Police cordoned off the scene and conducted a thorough investigation after receiving a report. According to a police officer interviewed by this newspaper, it was raining at the time, and the heavy rain washed away any evidence.

During the autopsy of Deakent Bosse, the forensic pathologists found no signs of foul play. However, they discovered a certain amount of unmelted chocolate in Mr. Bosse's throat, leading them to conclude that Deakent Bosse may have swallowed the entire piece of chocolate and choked on it, tragically losing his life.

But according to Dickinton Bosch's wife, it was a murder staged as an accident because her husband did not usually like chocolate.

The police are still investigating the specific details of the case, and our reporters will continue to follow up.

Chocolate stuck in my throat?

Amosta stared intently at the photograph in the newspaper, looking at the slightly frightened face, and remained silent for a long time.

"What did you see?"

After a long pause, Amosta asked calmly.

Lawrence's body trembled slightly. Based on this one question alone, he could conclude that the young master was indeed involved in this matter, just as he had suspected, and that he was very likely to possess similar extraordinary abilities to those two assassins.

Is there really such a group of people in this world?!

In order to preserve his shattered worldview, Lawrence had tried his best to avoid recalling or dwelling on the incident after witnessing it, but now he had no choice but to confront the issue head-on.

"The mailman really did choke to death on chocolate—"

Lawrence said with difficulty,

"I saw it, a chocolate frog. It looked alive, in a delivery box."

Chocolate Frog?

Amosta's eyes were deep and thoughtful.

"Was it sent by Harry Potter?"

"The sender on the box was one of two other packages sent from the same address, by Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley."

How foolish!

At this moment, even Amosta lamented in his heart.

This isn't the kind of misconduct these three guys usually commit in school; sending magical snacks from the wizarding world to Muggles is something the Ministry of Magic would undoubtedly have the right to sue if they found out, and have Hogwarts expel them.

But worse, the items they sent mistakenly killed a Muggle, a crime that would certainly land them in Azkaban.

wrong!

But then, the thought abruptly stopped. A flash of lightning streaked across Amostella's eyes, and the momentary pressure he exuded almost made Lawrence, who was recovering from a serious illness, gasp for breath.

Chocolate frogs are a well-known candy in the magical world, loved by young wizards and children from magical families who are not yet of school age. Because the target audience is children, this candy has certain safety features to ensure safety. Chocolate frogs will not voluntarily crawl into people's throats. Even if a courier opens a package out of curiosity and sees a frog that can run and jump that he has never seen before, logically speaking, he will not voluntarily put it in his throat.

Amosta had never heard of a wizard dying from a chocolate frog, unless—

Tell me, Lawrence—

Amosta slowly rose to his feet, solemnly gazing at Lawrence, who was drenched in cold sweat.

"Did someone let that chocolate frog fly into this poor Muggle's throat?"

Chapter 819 A Struggle Without Boundaries

2024-03-22

"I was across the street, picking up my hat from the gap between two buildings. It was a gift from my grandfather."

Lawrence's face turned pale. He swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest, as if he were back on that rainy day.

"Just as I got my hat and was about to go out, I suddenly heard two noises and two men appeared on the street. They suddenly appeared in front of the postman."

Amosta nodded slightly, glancing at the emotionally distraught Lawrence.

“Sit down and talk, Lawrence. Don’t be afraid, they haven’t noticed you, have they?”

“I’m sorry, Amosta, I’ve never seen anything so absurd,”

Lawrence sat back down as instructed, took off his reading glasses, wiped them with a napkin, and then looked at the young master, whose expression was calm and indifferent, feeling a sense of awe.

There is a group of people, probably not small in number, who possess extraordinary abilities. They have their own circle and organization. The government may or may not know of their existence, but if it does know, it is certainly helping them conceal it from the public. And the young master is a person of status and position in this circle.

This is all that Lawrence could deduce.

"One of them pointed a small stick at the postman, who should have realized something was wrong, and then he couldn't move, as if he were..."

“Petrified,” Amosta said for him.

"That's right, it's petrification."

Lawrence stared into those unfathomable eyes, his fist clenching under the tablecloth.

"I didn't hear what they were talking about, but after the two men petrified the postman, they inspected the packages he was delivering. They opened a box, swung the stick around, and the contents flew everywhere. There were a few black chocolate frogs that they picked out, and they controlled one of them, which flew into the postman's throat. That's what happened."

Judging from the young master's expression, Lawrence knew that everything he had outlined was very important to him. He looked at the young master nervously, sincerely hoping that what he had seen could help him.

But he didn't ask anything out of curiosity. Having served the Blaine family his whole life and witnessed many business secrets, Lawrence knew very well that the less he knew about some things, the better.

Du, du, du—

Amosta tapped his fingers on the table a few times and asked,

"After those two people left, you checked the mailman's package, didn't you, Lawrence?"

"You're right—"

Lawrence was momentarily dazed. The solemn-looking young master seemed more like the patriarch. During many crucial moments in the Blaine family's development, Lawrence had often been by the patriarch's side when he made important decisions, and he was all too familiar with that solemn yet slightly aloof expression.

"After they left, I hid in the gap for a few minutes. It was raining heavily, and not many people passed by. Before the police arrived, I checked the packages and found that the sender of the opened package was Harry Potter. It came from a village called Hogsmeade. There were two other packages from the same address, one for Hermione Granger and the other for Ron Weasley."

Lawrence remembered this incident very clearly. His illness during this period was only partly due to being caught in the cold rain; the majority of it was due to the shock and fright he had experienced.

It was the day Hermione was attacked.

Amosta immediately realized why the three little guys looked so guilty when he saw them at the Three Broomsticks bar; they had secretly donated things to the orphanage.

Another sigh escaped my lips.