The Return to Hogwarts

“This isn’t the kind of small group duel you practice in gym class, Harry. The Man of Void can’t just attack the wizarding world with a few Death Eaters; he needs an army.”

Hagrid said.

“But who would side with him?” Ron asked, puzzled.

“The mysterious man is more capable than you think, Ron. He always finds a large group of wicked people who do evil deeds and tells them that they can gain power and wealth by following him. Humph, there is never a shortage of bewitched wizards.”

Hagrid said heavily,

"This is also what Professor Dumbledore is mainly concerned about now—preventing him from gaining more support."

"Dumbledore also assigned you a similar task, didn't he?"

Harry's brow twitched slightly, and he blurted out,

"That day at the school hospital, I overheard him asking Professor McGonagall to pass on a message to you. He said he needed you to do something. What was it, Hagrid?"

“I can’t tell you that, Harry. Dumbledore doesn’t want me to tell you too much.”

Hagrid shook his head and said this. Upon hearing this, Harry was first taken aback for a moment, and then his face visibly darkened.

Chapter 875 VIP

2024-04-22

"Dumbledore doesn't want you to tell me too much?"

Harry stared at Hagrid, speaking slowly.

"Why? I told him everything, didn't I? Did he consider that I might not be happy to see my best friends suffer the Killing Curse in front of me, even if they didn't die in the end? Did he consider that I don't like seeing someone being burst apart by dozens of Cruciatus Curses? Did he consider that the killing of Barty Crouch and his son wasn't a very exciting show for me?"

Harry didn't realize he had stood up from his seat and was yelling angrily at Hagrid.

“This is not what Dumbledore would want to see either, Harry.”

Hagrid didn't blame Harry for his rudeness at all. In fact, he knew the three little ones were all preoccupied the moment he saw them.

He didn't expect that.

Hagrid tried to explain for Dumbledore.

"I never expected all of this to happen."

"I can't guarantee that."

Harry's cold words shocked Ron and Hermione. He didn't tell them that Barty Crouch Jr. was dead, killed by Professor Blaine, and that many interesting things could be inferred from Professor Blaine's presence at the resurrection ceremony.

Hagrid's face darkened, inwardly blaming himself for blurting it out again. Since he had anticipated that Harry and the others were deeply affected, he should have realized that they, especially Harry, should be particularly sensitive right now.

“He doesn’t want to tell you too much, not because he thinks you don’t deserve to know, Harry—”

Hagrid said with great concern,

“We all know how cruel and incredibly cruel things you’ve been through. If I were Dumbledore, I wouldn’t want any of these things to bother you anymore. I would want you to go back to your normal studies and relax.”

"is it?"

Harry retorted,

"If I learn to be a coward, Voldemort will let me go?"

"So what do you want Dumbledore to do?"

Hagrid said calmly,

"Telling you all his plans has kept you from eating and sleeping? And then you'd be even more satisfied if he sent you to the battlefield, making a little wizard underage fight against the Death Eaters of the Mystic?"

Harry had something to say in rebuttal, but Hermione kept giving him meaningful glances. Considering how difficult it was for him to regain Hermione and Ron, Harry chose to give in.

"I just--"

But Harry's anger hadn't subsided. He turned to look out the window. In the bright sunlight, a group of first-year wizards were making the most of the time, running around and playing on the lawn. Their cheerful laughter pierced Harry's ears, sounding grating. He recalled the averted glances he'd received on his way from gym class to the Great Hall.

"It's just that I can't accept that so many people are still pretending to be at peace."

"Not everyone has the courage to face reality, Harry—"

Hagrid also looked out the window.

"Unless the day comes that the magic wand is pointed at our noses. But we all know those days are numbered."

The harshness of winter had completely faded away, and for a whole week, the sky had been a bright, azure blue. Amostella stood at the entrance to Hogsmeade, gazing into the distance, where the pure white blanket covering the mountain peaks was fading day by day, almost disappearing from sight.

The warm weather filled the air with a lazy atmosphere, that was his feeling, but for the villagers of Hogsmeade, this was perhaps one of the busiest times of the year, as many fruits and vegetables needed to be planted at this time. Outside the village, the fields, divided into plots, were filled with figures bending over and busy at work.

Men and women were busy in the fields, and children were playing and laughing on the crisscrossing paths of the village. When the children saw the gentle-looking Amosta Blaine pass by, they would immediately stop playing and bow to greet him.

Amostella would respond with a gentle smile, listening to the children's admiring and envious gazes as they expressed their longing for Hogwarts, before slowly walking away.

They are so close to Hogwarts, yet they may never be able to step into this dream temple as students.

Although it was the weekend, on days when Hogwarts was closed, the Three Broomsticks pub was not crowded. Madam Romester, the proprietress, was lounging on the bar counter, yawning as she stared at the irregular light and shadow on a flowing patch of flooring on the wall.

Ring ring--

The ringing of the doorbell roused the proprietress, who greeted Amosta with light steps.

"Would you like something, Amosta?"

"Let's start with a glass of sherry--"

Amusta glanced at the wall clock and said,

"Also, I need a private room."

Ms. Romesta chose a box with a wide view for Amosta. When the window was opened, one could see the towers standing on the cliff, the lush forbidden forest, and the rolling mountains.

The gentle breeze ruffled Amosta's gray hair as he strolled across the open fields. He gazed at the primeval forests, feeling rather pleasant.

This is mainly related to Severus's safe return.

The first meeting with Voldemort was the most dangerous. Severus had to explain why he had served under Dumbledore for so many years, why he hadn't returned immediately after being summoned, why he had done nothing even though Harry Potter was right under his nose, and he had to prove to Voldemort that he still had value.

As he expected, Voldemort asked Severus why he appeared in his resurrection ceremony as a little girl. He should now know that he did not kill anyone that night. Severus also explained why Ron and Hermione were still alive.

Although these explanations were not without flaws, they were sufficient for Voldemort, who was eager to prove that it was all an accident, and he happily accepted Severus's account.

Severus did not bring back any information about Voldemort's next specific plans. For the time being, he only had Severus monitor him and Dumbledore. As for the other Death Eaters' missions, he did not tell Severus, which was quite normal, indicating that Voldemort was not completely confused.

Severus knew Voldemort's current hiding place, but he couldn't tell Dumbledore or him because the Dark Mark was preventing him from revealing this crucial information.

However, none of this is hard to guess.

In addition, something surprised Amosta slightly. He had thought that Dumbledore would tentatively invite him to join the Order of the Phoenix, but in the past few days, Dumbledore had not mentioned it at all. It seemed that he had seen through his thoughts, but he still told him about the current list of members gathered by the Order of the Phoenix and its short-term action plan.

This is absolutely necessary. Although the two people are heading towards the same goal, they are taking different routes. If they don't communicate with each other, they are very likely to interfere with each other.

Amosta is taking no action for the time being, waiting for the Ministry of Magic to make the first mistake so that he can strike decisively.

The creaking of footsteps on the wooden floor came from outside the door. Amosta snapped out of his reverie, adjusted his expression, and smiled at the door. But when the person outside forcefully pushed the door open and appeared in his line of sight, Amosta's eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh my god, what's going on?"

The visitor was none other than Whip Dregern, a wizard who, like Amosta, held the position of vice president of the International Wizarding Federation. However, Whip was in charge of practical matters and had real power, while Amosta was more like an honorary vice president.

The two hadn't met for very long, less than a month ago, outside the castle of Nurmengard. At that time, Whip had gathered a group of men, intending to stop Amosta from entering Nurmengard, but only a month had passed—

Vip looked more than ten years older than before. The wrinkles on his aged face, which used to show his toughness, now revealed his fatigue. His hair had turned much whiter, and most importantly, there was a small piece of white gauze on his forehead, as if he had been injured.

"what happened?!"

When faced with Amosta's question, Whip adopted a cold expression, exactly as he had when he had entered his estate without invitation. His sharp gaze fell on Amosta's surprised face, carrying a hint of gritted teeth.

"This is all thanks to you, Blaine!"

Chapter 876 Whimsical

2024-04-22

Having lived through the war years, and as a high-ranking member of the International Wizarding Federation, Whip, who has dedicated most of his life to the common good of wizards worldwide, has been criticized for his tough style, but he is clearly not lacking in grace.

But where is the old man who has appeared before Amosta now?

He was listless, his face showed signs of fatigue, his gray hair was not very tidy, and the wound on his forehead still showed a faint dark red.

"Thanks to me?"

Amosta's surprise was no lie.

"Where does this begin?"

Similarly, Whip could tell that Amosta was not faking it; he had genuinely forgotten. But this did not quell his anger; instead, it fueled his rage even more, to the point that his eyes turned sinister as he pondered whether to pull out his wand and give Amosta a good whack, letting him taste the bitterness of the trade.

In the end, however, Whip sighed with a slightly dejected air. He glanced at the black castle on the cliffside from his table by the window, gave a cold snort that was hard to decipher, and then picked up the sherry on the table and drank it all in one gulp.

"Have you forgotten?" Whee asked curtly, "You 'assigned' me a job?"

"Oh!" Amosta raised an eyebrow, finally remembering. "You mean, the trial of those dark wizards?"

Indeed, he really put the matter out of his mind.

“Only two weeks have passed!” Veins popped out on Whee’s forehead.

Amosta's lips twitched, and finally, he gave Vip an apologetic smile.