The Return to Hogwarts

The basilisk was pleased with the promise and bowed its head gratefully to Amosta.

Amostah placed the clan crest into his pouch, glanced around at the chaotic cellar, pursed his lips, and a thoughtful look crossed his eyes again. He didn't help restore the place to its original state; Newt wouldn't have a hard time cleaning it up. Instead, he was thinking about something else.

"I'm leaving--"

Amosta suddenly looked at the basilisk and said...

"Would you like to come with me, or stay with Mr. Scamander?"

Should they leave with Amosta Blaine?

The basilisk was startled and sat up abruptly, completely unprepared for such a request. After the initial shock subsided, the basilisk began to hesitate.

Although the wizard before me is not a descendant of Salazar, he is indeed an extremely powerful wizard. He has been lying dormant in the castle for a thousand years, and even in the era of the four founders, there were very few whose magical power could rival his.

But then, as if Wright had thought of something terrible, its massive body jolted violently, and it quickly shook its head. Fearing that the wizard would fly into a rage and beat it with the ring of fire again, the basilisk leaped behind Newt, its head bowed low.

Seeing how terrified it was, even Newt couldn't help but laugh.

"Alright, since you want to stay with Newt, I won't force you—"

Amosta smacked his lips, a little disappointed.

Although this basilisk was blind and lost its greatest weapon, the magic power accumulated within it endowed it with a body even stronger than that of a fire dragon. Furthermore, it possessed scales with extremely high magic resistance, making it impossible for ordinary magic to penetrate its defenses. It was an excellent assistant.

He also thought that since Voldemort had a snake named Nagini and Dumbledore had Fawkes, he should also get himself a magical creature to match his style.

But then I thought, if we really brought the Basilisk under our command, it's hard to say who it would take orders from when it encountered Voldemort on the battlefield!

I heard—

When Newt and Amosta returned to the ground one after the other, the night sky, which reflected the outside world, had already fallen. A silver ribbon composed of billions of stars emitting pure light stretched across the sky. This was the scene on the grassland, while the deep rainforest adjacent to the grassland was carrying out an artificial rainmaking process, with lightning and thunder resounding throughout the earth.

Standing in the backyard of the cabin, the two gazed at the extraordinary sight for a while. Newt looked at Amostella beside him, a young wizard whom he neither particularly liked nor disliked, but who, like Albus, undoubtedly possessed some strong personal traits.

"The joint review meeting regarding your project will be held the day after tomorrow. Grevis and several department heads from the Magic Congress will question you about your project."

“That’s true.” Amosta nodded slightly.

"You don't seem very worried?"

Newt blinked his clear eyes and said sharply,

Do you think you can get through this, or do you think you're destined to fail?

After thinking for a moment, Amosta said,

"Given the current situation, Remus and I will likely encounter some difficulties, but whether we can move this forward depends on the outcome of our discussions the day after tomorrow. Although we haven't communicated with them beforehand, the International Department of Magical Cooperation undoubtedly hopes that the cooperation can be achieved."

This is a win-win business; they can also gain political achievements and a lot of tax revenue from it. If the International Department of Magical Cooperation doesn't support this business, the only possibility I can think of is that they want even more.

These matters should have been agreed upon in private meetings before the review meeting, but Grevis doesn't seem to want me to be too active. My only uncertainty now is Grevis's opinion, and he doesn't seem keen to see me.

“That was indeed a wizard with a very strong sense of ‘sectarianism’.”

Newt also said, rather frustrated,

"Take my experience dealing with him as an example. He didn't want me involved in tracking down those missing magical creatures. Perhaps because of my reputation, he reluctantly agreed to let me join, but it was only reluctant. They didn't share any information with me and ignored my suggestions as well."

Sectarianism.

Amosta pondered Newt's words, seemingly gaining some insight.

When Amosta Apparated back to the hotel, Remus was hunched over his desk, struggling with a pile of materials he had brought with him. With the joint review meeting imminent, Remus was becoming increasingly nervous. That's why he declined Amosta's invitation to meet Newt together, choosing instead to stay at the hotel alone to familiarize himself with the materials in order to avoid any mistakes at the review meeting.

Amosta's apparition startled Remus, who was engrossed in the documents. He looked up at Amosta, only to find that the latter's gaze had already shifted from him to the sofa. Remus pursed his lips and lowered his head again.

"Oh, you've already been discharged from the hospital?"

Looking at Amelia, who was wearing a light green knit sweater over a white T-shirt, paired with trendy light sky-blue skinny jeans, and carrying a magic book, as she got up from the sofa, Amosta raised an eyebrow in surprise, then smiled kindly.

"Why didn't you rest in the hospital for a few more days? Why were you in such a hurry to come back and monitor me? Didn't I tell you I would behave myself?"

Amelia already knew Amosta to some extent; she knew he sometimes liked to make little jokes, so she simply smiled, pursing her lips.

“My therapist believes I have fully recovered, and I have consulted Mr. Grevis, who also agrees to my return to work.”

"Is that so--"

Amosta smiled noncommittally, walked to the wine rack, opened a bottle of sherry, poured himself a glass, and was about to hand it to Amelia when he remembered that she had just recovered from her injuries and been discharged from the hospital. So he drank it himself.

"So, what about your parents? Have they gone home yet? Hehe, I guess they're probably not willing to try using FiloNet again, are they?"

"Actually, they did get home in the afternoon via St. Josiah's nebula. They were in a hurry to get back and make preparations, um."

Amostella listened attentively to Amelia's words, but suddenly noticed her hesitant expression, which piqued his curiosity.

"What's wrong? What are they preparing for? Are they going on a trip?"

"Oh, no--"

Amelia's fair and delicate cheeks flushed slightly. She avoided Amosta's gaze and stammered, unable to speak.

To be honest, Amelia felt a mix of joy and embarrassment at her parents' request. She genuinely wanted to spend more time with and interact with the world's top archmages, but she was also afraid that Amosta might misunderstand, since it was indeed suspicious that her parents, who had only met Amosta once, would invite him to their home for dinner.

"what happened?"

Amosta put down his glass, looked at Amelia under the soft glow of the chandelier, and his voice held a hint of concern.

"Actually, it's like this—"

Amelia took a breath, trying to straighten her face and control her nervousness.

"Yes, my parents would like to invite you to their home for dinner, Mr. Blaine."

Chapter 914 The Art of Negotiation

2024-05-13

Woolworth Building, the Magical Congress of the United States.

As dusk and night fell, another ordinary but busy workday came to an end. A large group of listless congressional officials lined up in front of the fireplace in the hall, none of them paying attention to what the impassioned Chairman Kouhaug was swearing to the residents of the magical world over the loudspeaker above them.

For Trak Grevis, leaving get off work on time is just a concept.

Like his grandfather Percival Grevis, he served as the head of both the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of Magical Security in the Magical Congress, and his work and life were already intertwined and inseparable.

After dealing with questions from a reporter from the New York Ghost about why the Department of Security had been so slow to apprehend the three individuals involved in the recent transaction involving the venomous leopard within 72 hours of the disappearance of a high-risk magical creature, Grevis left the conference room. His subordinates, who had been waiting outside, entered the room at his prompting. What followed was nothing more than a tedious exchange of money and power.

The sun was completely blocked by the endless rows of skyscrapers built by the Muggles, and a crescent moon was faintly visible in the dim, yellow sky.

After hesitating for a moment, Grevis did not return to his office, but instead took an elevator that only department heads had the authority to use, and went to a restaurant in the middle of the building.

It's no surprise that there were very few people dining in the restaurant; given the choice, people would still prefer to go home and enjoy dinner with their loved ones.

He strolled over to the coffee machine, made himself a cup of black coffee, and took two sandwiches from the window. Grevis chose a seat by the window and sat down, savoring the tingling bitterness that bloomed on his taste buds. Grevis took a deep breath.

“I hope I haven’t disturbed your meal, Trak—”

A crisp voice rang out beside Gravis, interrupting his thoughts.

The newcomer was a witch wearing a light blue work suit dress, with slightly wavy, light blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. Judging from her appearance, she was about the same age as Grevis.

At this moment, the witch, who was clearly of extraordinary status, stood beside Grevis with a smile, holding a cup of black tea with milk.

"Marcel?"

Grevis turned to look at the newcomer, put down his coffee, cleared his throat, and gestured invitingly.

Please have a seat.

Marcel calmly sat down opposite Grevis, maintaining a polite smile.

The two were definitely acquaintances, so Grevis didn't engage in any formalities or pleasantries, but instead asked directly,

"What brings you here, Marsil?"

"Oh, just chatting--"

Marcel smiled and said, then seemed somewhat surprised by the weariness between Grevis's brows.

"What's wrong, Trak? You don't look too well. Is it because of the interview with you by the New York Ghost this afternoon? Did those reporters ask some embarrassing questions?"

“You know their style very well, Marcel. Those journalists’ greatest hobby is to exaggerate trivial matters and put them in the newspaper to grab the public’s attention.”

Grevis took a sip of his coffee and said it with perfect composure.

"Oh, hehe, you're right."

Marcel laughed.

"That's definitely their style. It's like the wizarding world is a sin if there's no trouble. They'd love for us to run into big trouble like our counterparts across the ocean. Have you heard? Albus Dumbledore publicly declared that the dark wizard whose name can't even be mentioned in that country is back?"

"I have indeed heard about it—"

Grevis remained expressionless and calmly said,

"If that were true, it would undoubtedly be a huge disaster for the British magical community. But this news is questionable, isn't it? The British Ministry of Magic has not issued an official statement to confirm this claim. I think there may be a misunderstanding."

"I agree with you."

Marcel also picked up his teacup, took a sip, and maintained an impeccable smile.

"If that evil dark wizard really returned to the people, Amosta Blaine certainly wouldn't have chosen this time to come here, would he?"

Grevis's eyes flickered for a moment, and he guessed the real purpose of the head of the International Department of Magical Cooperation coming to chat with him. He nodded slightly, but did not offer any further opinion.