The Return to Hogwarts

It has already started.

Staring at the closed door, Neville's pale lips moved, but no sound came out. The only sounds in the room were Neville's heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart.

Will it succeed?

Neville's arms, hanging uncontrollably at his sides, began to tremble.

Even if he fails, there's nothing to be afraid of. His parents can still be with him. Even if he's not fully conscious, he can still see their boundless love for him in their cloudy eyes. He doesn't feel that his parents' condition is a burden to him. He still has a complete family, although it's not perfect.

But what if... what if the ending is even worse?

No one knew, including his grandmother, that he had been secretly studying papers on the Crucifixion's healing properties.

Every article on this subject was obscure and difficult to understand, filled with professional terms he had never heard of before. He couldn't comprehend them at all. However, the profundity of these articles, and the fact that so many excellent therapists had devoted themselves to this global problem of healing the Crucifixion for centuries, yet had never made a breakthrough, filled him with deep panic and regret for his decision.

It was only after consulting his opinion that Grandma made up her mind to let Professor Dumbledore and Professor Blaine try treatment. If something went wrong, he would never be able to forgive himself for his 'selfishness'!

In the warm room, Neville felt a chill from the inside out, colder than Hogwarts around Christmas, as if even his soul had been frozen.

Neville staggered backward, eventually collapsing onto his mother's hospital bed, his hands covering his face, his shoulders trembling slightly.

Suddenly, a fragrance wafted into Neville's nostrils as he was consumed by self-reproach, rescuing him from his boundless regret and panic.

On the small cabinet next to my mother's hospital bed was a plate with a porcelain dish containing sizzling sausages and fried bacon, golden-brown fried potato wedges sprinkled with fine salt, crispy Danish rolls, some other food, and a steaming cup of hot tomato-braised soybeans.

It was a very lavish meal, with some dishes that you'd never even see at Hogwarts.

Neville stared blankly at the plate before realizing that the breakfast, emitting an unusually enticing aroma, had been sitting there all along, but he had simply ignored it. Now that he was close enough, he finally noticed it.

A hint of doubt flashed through the mind of the person immersed in a depressed mood.

He guessed it might be his grandmother, but it was more likely that the thoughtful Hermione had brought it back for him when she went to St. Mungo's restaurant for breakfast. But that was the source of his doubts. He had been in St. Mungo's for more than just the last two or three days. Hospital food was always designed with the patient's nutrition and ease of eating and digestion in mind, and taste was not a consideration for them.

Neville looked away. He was touched by Hermione's thoughtful care, but to be honest, he had absolutely no appetite right now.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

It wasn't because of hunger, but for some inexplicable reason, Neville rubbed his reddened eyes, picked up the plate, and carefully placed it on his lap.

After hesitating for a moment, Neville picked up a potato chip and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly.

The crispy potato chunks burst with rich aroma as they were chewed, causing the sullen Neville to slightly open his eyes, revealing an expression of disbelief.

He has never eaten anything so delicious!

As if possessed by Crabbe and Goyle, whom Slytherin hated, Neville was completely out of control. His hands flew back and forth between the food on his plate and his lips, his cheeks, which had become thinner from exercise, were stuffed full of all sorts of delicious food.

Neville wolfed down his food, chewing it laboriously, but still refused to slow down the pace of stuffing it into his mouth.

Her reddened eyes gradually became wet, and large drops of hot tears fell from her eyes onto her plate.

The plate was quickly emptied, but Neville didn't stop. He even picked up food scraps with his fingers and put them in his mouth, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed softly.

The deliciousness of the food wasn't because the person who made it was skilled at cooking, but because the person who prepared it felt boundless guilt and love. Neville tasted it.

click

The door opened gently, casting a shadow over the entrance.

Neville didn't look up, he didn't dare to look up. He mechanically repeated the action of rubbing the crumbs between his fingers, but his body trembled slightly.

Hermione covered her mouth and cried at the door. The old lady, who had been strong all her life and never admitted defeat, also shed tears. Tonks blew her nose hard. Sirius's eyes were red, but his gray eyes revealed a trace of loss.

Dumbledore also took off his glasses and sadly wiped the corners of his eyes.

"Dad, Mom!"

When two warm arms wrapped around his shoulders, Neville finally couldn't hold back anymore. He dropped his plate, hugged the two people in front of him tightly, and burst into tears.

Chapter 827 A Perfect Ending

2024-03-26

Although the therapists at St. Mungo's had anticipated this, the fact that the Longbottoms, who had been bedridden for over a decade, finally awoke from their dazed state still caused a great stir at St. Mungo's. Whether they were long-term patients or staff members, everyone wanted to witness this miracle firsthand.

The Longbottoms, their mother, and their son, who was still studying at Hogwarts, spent the entire morning receiving congratulations.

Some busybodies even wanted to go to the Daily Prophet's office in Diagon Alley and find some reporters to expose the matter. This suggestion was supported by many people, but Dumbledore eventually stopped them.

"Please don't do that, Thetalis--"

Dumbledore spoke gently to a short, old man in a healer's green robe.

“I have already emphasized that Amosta and I cannot widely promote the treatment methods used on Frank and Alice, but if this matter is publicized by the Daily Prophet, I am afraid Hogwarts will be crowded with the families of wizards who have suffered misfortune.”

"People will find out eventually, Albus!"

The highly respected therapist, Sitareth, said rather indignantly,

"This is an epoch-making feat. The entire magical world should know the miracle you have accomplished. Your and Blaine's Chocolate Frog picture sheets should bear this great achievement, and the Order of Merlin should present you and Blaine with a whole oak barrel of First Class Order medals!"

"Oh--"

Dumbledore's silver beard fluttered as he chuckled.

“It sounds good, but I’m pretty sure neither Amosta nor I need that kind of fame.”

Dumbledore used his 'supreme authority' to quell the matter, though of course, rumors would fly everywhere.

"Well"

When Amosta awoke from his deep sleep, the sunset had already painted the white wall opposite his bed with a lazy blush. After blinking a few times, the haze quickly dissipated from his eyes, and his purple pupils became clearer than ever before.

Amosta brushed his fingertips against the corner of his eye, quietly sensing the changes within himself.

All things in the world became clearer in his eyes, as if he had always been looking at the world through a gray lens, but now the dust on the lens had been removed, and everything was clearly visible.

"barrier--"

Amosta raised his hand and, as if playing with ripples in water, traced his fingers across the empty space in front of him. Incredibly, the light shining into the room, like tangible threads, actually twisted along with Amosta's fingertips.

Like a child receiving a new toy, Amosta watched the scene with great interest, constantly fiddling with the air. Under his gentle movements, the ethereal magic within the closed ward caused the air to move, and a breeze appeared out of nowhere.

Seemingly realizing something, Amosta's gaze fell on the toothbrush cup on the bedside table. He didn't take out his wand, but simply waved his fingertip around the cup a few times, and then—

The sky-blue cup suddenly began to tremble, and the trembling intensified. In a rapidly spinning illusion, the cup twisted into a small white snake about the thickness of a thumb.

hiss--

The lifelike little snake coiled its body, then suddenly sprang up and pounced on Amosta. In mid-air, its tail nimbly wrapped around Amosta's wrist, like a bracelet around his wrist. It blinked its lively vertical pupils and looked at Amosta affectionately.

"interesting--"

Amosta smiled and muttered to himself.

"The growth of soul power has directly led to a significant improvement in spiritual power. Hmm, perhaps one day, I will be able to completely discard the magic wand."

After playing with the little snake for a while, Amosta opened his hand and looked at the snake.

"Go ahead."

Upon receiving the command, the small white snake's eyes revealed a hint of reluctance. After circling Amosta's wrist a few times, it obediently released its body, quickly slithered along the bedding to the foot of the bed, descended along the bedpost, and disappeared into the shadows of the hospital bed.

After watching the little snake leave, Amosta glanced at the door, got up, quickly put on his clothes, and waved towards the door.

"Come in, everyone."

The Longbottom family entered one after another, and perhaps to give them a chance to express their gratitude individually, Hermione, Sirius, and Tonks remained waiting outside.

"I don't know how to thank you, Amosta!"

In just one day, Mrs. Longbottom seemed twenty years younger. Her back was straighter than ever, her voice was louder, and the wrinkles on her face had lessened, leaving only fine lines that radiated vitality. However, she remained as direct as ever; she went straight to Amostella by the bedside, took her hand, and shook it vigorously for a long time.

"You restored Frank and Alice to health, and allowed Neville to live with his mom and dad. I've always known that this kid dreamed of having this kind of life. In short, Amosta, whatever you want to do in the future, the Longbottom family will always support you!"

Amosta withdrew her slightly sore hand and smiled.

“I’m just doing what I can and what I believe is right, Augusta.”

"Yes, I knew you would say that."

Mrs. Longbottom's lips curled slightly, her eyes shining as she gazed at Amosta.

"Like Dumbledore, you are noble, but as I said, the Longbottom family will always support you, as long as you do not intend to become the Dark Lord!"

"grandmother!"

Neville said somewhat discontentedly,

"Professor Blaine will never become the Dark Lord!"

Amostella looked at Neville with slight surprise. Under the strict upbringing of Madam Longbottom, the boy had always been somewhat timid and was often the subject of ridicule at Hogwarts. But now, he seemed to have been reborn and actually had the courage to speak to his grandmother like that.

“Oh, I was just using an example, Neville.”

Mrs. Longbottom said to Neville with a smile.

Amos chuckled, his gaze falling on Frank and Alice, each with one hand on Neville's shoulder.

Unlike their emaciated appearance on the hospital bed, the couple, who had been in a daze for more than a decade, looked radiant, like Sirius Black after escaping Azkaban and resolving his inner conflicts, their eyes full of hope and vitality.

"So."

Amostella looked at the two heroes from the last wizarding war with a gentle expression.

"How does it feel to be fully awake, you two?"