The Return to Hogwarts

"Well, that's how it is, Professor—"

Draco approached Amosta slowly, looking somewhat nervous, his fists clenched tightly, half-hidden in his sleeves. Behind him, Milison, Nott, and others were driving away the remaining students in the classroom with their strong and cold gazes.

After slamming the classroom door shut, Millison hurried over to Professor Blaine, who was lounging on the podium, raising an eyebrow and giving them a faint smile as he observed them clearing the room.

Draco wasn't the only one feeling nervous. Amostella sensed solemnity, tension, and perhaps even a sacred sense of mission in the expressions of every Slytherin student who remained.

"The Dark Lord has really returned, hasn't he, Professor Blaine?"

This is Draco's opening monologue.

“Professor Dumbledore has already told you this, hasn’t he? Barty Crouch, the headmaster of Durmstrang and the Minister of Magic, sent a warning signal to everyone with his life. I believe you also know very well, Draco, that Potter would not use such a thing to gain attention.”

Amosta said calmly.

"So--"

Draco swallowed hard, his heart pounding nervously. Professor Blaine didn't show any impatience or give him a hard time, but Draco still felt immense pressure, almost like a suppression from a higher level of existence.

Draco, however, struggled to lift his head and look into Professor Blaine's eyes. Under the gaze of those wondrous purple eyes, he stammered, speaking with utmost reverence,

"Then are you willing to accept our allegiance, Mr. Blaine?"

Chapter 872 Little Dreamer

2024-04-20

"Would you accept our allegiance, Mr. Blaine?"

After Draco's words, the gymnasium became so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Draco, along with every other Slytherin student who remained, nervously awaited Professor Blaine's next reaction. They awaited his thunderous rage, his calm refusal, or his gracious agreement. They all believed that with Professor Blaine's intelligence, he would surely understand what they were saying.

Amosta was speechless.

He looked at the faces in front of him that still had a touch of childishness. The youngest was Astoria, who was only a second-year student, while the others were still two or three years away from adulthood.

But these children stood before him, looking nervous, yet Amosta could see excitement and a strong sense of mission in their eyes, as if they were participating in some momentous historical event.

Amosta pursed his lips and remained silent.

He waved his wand, and the classroom curtains were all pulled up with a whoosh, blocking out the dazzling white sunlight from outside; the torches on the walls lit up in a relay—but instead of the usual warm orange flames, they emitted a pale green that had a sinister and eerie feel.

The desks stacked along the wall lined up and jumped over, transforming into soft sofas in a rapidly spinning blur, forming a circle. One desk twisted and stretched its surface, then jumped over the circle of sofas, suddenly shortening its legs to become a large coffee table.

Amosta waved his wand again, summoning snacks sent to him by his fans from his office, and also bringing some food from the kitchen—pies, sausages, pumpkin juice, and a whole tea set.

Draco suppressed his excitement, believing that Professor Blaine's current actions represented something.

"Come on, find a seat yourself—"

Amusta turned to look at the group of students and smiled.

"Consider it my treat to lunch."

The environment here is like the Slytherin common room, except that the decorative chains on the ceiling are missing, and the shimmering Black Lake is not visible outside the windows. However, the familiar surroundings still make these Slytherin students feel quite relaxed.

Amostella found a single sofa and sat down, while Draco and the others followed suit and found their own seats.

No one touched the food on the table; they were all waiting for Professor Blaine's reply. Draco stared intently at Professor Blaine's young yet dignified face, his mind involuntarily recalling the first time he met Professor Blaine:

Professor Blaine lived in the same dormitory as him, and their beds were in the exact same position. He hid something next to his bed and assigned a fearsome eight-eyed spider to guard it. To this day, Draco still occasionally wonders what Professor Blaine had placed there.

Amostella picked up his teacup, a smile playing on his lips as he observed these ambitious youngsters. He knew Slytherin; he himself was a Slytherin, surrounded by people like these when he studied at Hogwarts. He knew how these students of the house thought about problems and what they yearned for in their hearts.

Are you the only ones?

Amosta looked at Draco and asked softly.

"Much more, sir!"

Young Malfoy's pale skin flushed red instantly, and he lowered his voice.

“We’ve had meetings in private. You know, it’s a Slytherin tradition. We don’t care what that muddle-headed old man Dumbledore thinks about current events, and Professor Snape shouldn’t interfere with our own judgment. Many people, many upperclassmen, share the same view as us!”

Draco's voice was filled with excitement.

“We’ve discussed the Dark Lord and the amazing things he’s done. Of course, some people think his time will come again soon, and we should follow in our fathers’ footsteps and continue to serve the Dark Lord to accomplish great things. But many more people think that we shouldn’t go to such lengths!”

"You are the greatest wizard since the Dark Lord, sir!"

It was rare to see the usually calm Theodore so emotional; his two clenched fists rested on his knees.

“You have proven that your magic is in no way inferior to that of the Dark Lord. You are younger and wiser. Many people follow the Dark Lord, and if we join, we will not be valued. But you are our professor, and we all believe that if we follow you, we can accomplish great things.”

The absurd feeling from before resurfaced in Amosta's heart. She still smiled, but sighed inwardly.

It's understandable that teenagers are eager to accomplish something that will impress their parents and grandparents, but he openly opposes the Dark Lord, and these guys are praising the Dark Lord right in front of him. I don't know whether to call them stupid or completely trusting of themselves.

Amosta pursed his lips, his gaze sweeping over the young faces.

“You want to follow me. But you should know that I will not, like Voldemort, promise my Death Eaters that I will lead them to reclaim the glory that belongs to pure-blood wizards. In fact, the entire wizarding world probably knows that I am a Muggle.”

“We have already thought about it, sir!”

Generally, Pansy wouldn't voice her opinion when Draco was around, but this time she was expressing it, and she was also casting the same adoring gaze she usually gave Draco.

“You have proven to the magical world that power is more honorable than bloodline. We believe that by following in your footsteps, we can obtain honor in a simpler way.”

Pansy's words elicited a chorus of approval, with everyone nodding in agreement and then looking eagerly at Professor Blaine.

“Power. Glory,” Amosta chuckled softly. “I understand.”

This was probably the most difficult situation he had encountered in his relatively short teaching career. Forcing these children to restrain their behavior by force would not work; on the contrary, it would only make them more extreme. They were a group of fanatics who were even more willing to risk their lives to protect their naive ideals than the fearless and noble.

"You follow me hoping to gain power from me, is that it?"

Amosta took a deep breath, crossed his arms, suppressed his smile, and became calm.

Draco hesitated for a moment before asking this question.

"We do indeed hope to learn more powerful magic, sir, but what we value even more is your will; your will is the direction in which we strive!"

Amostella glanced at Draco, who was unaware of the risks his father had taken to save him from harm.

"Can I assume that you are willing to sacrifice your lives to fulfill my will, just as the Death Eaters were loyal to the Dark Lord?"

Amos asked, and what he received in return was a chorus of passionate assurances.

"Now there's a problem."

In a flash, Amosta decided to continue the conversation in the Slytherin manner.

"If I wanted to become the headmaster of Hogwarts, that wouldn't be difficult at all; it's practically a done deal. Then, becoming Minister for Magic—that's not impossible either. After that, we could make the entire British wizarding world submit to our will. All the wizards are working for our benefit; in short, we need to make people obey. If we want to achieve all this, we'll have to face a formidable opponent."

Many people pronounced Dumbledore's name, but Draco frowned; he seemed to see an obstacle. Just as Professor Blaine had said, a powerful obstacle.

"You figured it out, didn't you?"

Amostella looked at Draco gently.

"In the current magical world, we are not the only ones who hope to achieve this goal. It is also the Dark Lord's long-standing goal. Can someone come up with a good idea to persuade the Dark Lord to abandon his goal and let us accomplish this great undertaking?"

Chapter 873 It’s not that simple

2024-04-20

Amosta calmly sipped his tea, waiting for the young wizards to express their opinion, but the silence lasted for a long time.

The Dark Lord's terror was something these pure-blooded descendants from prestigious families understood far more deeply than children from ordinary wizarding families; they couldn't casually utter the words "I want to oppose the Dark Lord."

"how?"

Amosta, somewhat disappointed at not receiving an answer, said...

"Can't anyone come up with an idea? Should we wait until the Dark Lord dies of old age before focusing on our goal? Or should we abandon this unrealistic goal and pursue an easier-to-achieve ideal?"

The scene of fervent fervor vanished silently, like a dream, and Amosta could see the embarrassment on the faces of the children who had sworn allegiance to him and followed him.

"We are not afraid to fight against the Dark Lord, sir—"

Blaise, pale and panting, said...

We are willing to follow behind you, no matter who stands in our way.

“Your courage is gratifying, Blaise,”

Amosta said in an appreciative tone,

"I also don't think the Dark Lord is anything to fear. I don't believe I'll lose to him. Besides, we can use Dumbledore, right? He's always been steadfastly resisting the Dark Lord. If Dumbledore and I join forces, I believe the Dark Lord won't be able to do anything. And you—"

Amosta looked at the children with great anticipation in his eyes.

"Will you help me deal with the Dark Lord's loyal Death Eaters?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably, and at that moment, he wasn't the only one avoiding Amosta's gaze.

The eerie pale green flames radiated a chilling aura in all directions. The chains hanging from the ceiling clattered, sounding somewhat like ghouls grinding their teeth and hiding in old furniture. The shadows of the chains were cast on the students. Draco saw a dark rope hanging from Nott's neck, swaying precariously, as if about to hang him. Nott's face was indeed very pale.

I'll just tell you the truth—

Professor Blaine's icy voice sent a chill down Draco's spine as it reached his ears.

"I intend to fight Voldemort, which is easy to understand, isn't it? I can't let him steal all the limelight, but I'm facing a dilemma now."