The Return to Hogwarts

"Incredible—"

Amosta murmured, his eyes filled with admiration.

These spells did not exist a thousand years ago, but Slytherin's domain could discern the structure of magic the moment it came into contact with it and neutralize it. This undoubtedly proves Salazar Slytherin's profound magical attainments as one of the four great masters.

Amosta was like a child who had received a fun new toy, constantly teasing the domain with magic, watching how the domain dissolved the attacks, and gradually becoming obsessed with it.

When they entered Gringotts' underground vault, it was a bright and sunny morning. By the time they returned to the solemn and majestic marble hall, the sun had already passed its zenith.

Upon seeing the bright sunshine, the smoke-soaked Amelia and Borgrod both gasped for breath, their expressions showing relief at having survived a disaster.

"Well then, thank you very much-"

Amosta nodded to the old man with the dark complexion.

“I have inspected that underground cavity. Its structure has been re-solidified by the cooled magma. It is safe and you can continue to use it.”

Having suffered the most severe shock of his life, Bogrod didn't know how to answer. He could only bow slightly and say in a hoarse voice,

"It's an honor to serve you, Mr. Blaine."

"hehe."

After smiling, under the watchful eyes of many fairies and guests in the hall, she tossed a "keep it a secret" message to Borgrod before leading Amelia toward the door.

The sweltering heat felt so refreshing to Amelia's senses. She took a few deep breaths, and as the many shops of the ancient, wondrous, and fascinating Diagon Alley came into view again, Amelia realized with a start that she had just experienced another great adventure.

Will it be kept secret?

Looking back at Borgero, who had returned to his workstation in a daze, Amelia's beautiful face showed a hint of worry.

"Oh, I personally think it's unlikely—"

Amostella glanced nonchalantly at the narrow gap between Gringotts and the neighboring shops, smiling impassively.

"But I don't really care whether it can be kept secret or not. Besides, it's not something that can be kept secret just because it wants to—"

Amelia's brow twitched slightly; the intelligent girl immediately understood Amosta's meaning.

"Won't it be in mortal danger?"

"Oh, I don't think so—"

Amosta spoke, his gaze falling on Amelia, his expression slightly somber.

“You don’t yet have an objective understanding of the environment in the British wizarding world, Amelia, so you also need to be vigilant. For the next period of time, you need to stay close to Remus. You know he is a cautious wizard who has experienced war, and his experience can help avoid most of the risks.”

Amelia nodded solemnly.

"So--"

Amosta's tone became more relaxed.

"I'm returning to Hogwarts on the Hogwarts Express in half an hour. I hope Professor McGonagall hasn't removed me from the faculty."

A hint of reluctance to part filled Amelia's clear brown eyes. She struggled to control her emotions and nodded slightly.

"What will you do after you return to Hogwarts?"

"Oh, about the Triwizard Tournament—"

After thinking for a moment, Amosta said in a relaxed tone, "The Triwizard Tournament is less than a month away. Voldemort's accident has ruined all the original competition events, so I have to design new ones."

"May I go see it?"

Amelia immediately became interested and looked at Amosta expectantly.

"Of course, you can come with Sirius and Remus and take a look at Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, which you didn't have time to visit properly before—"

Amosta smiled gently.

Recalling her previous experience of smuggling herself into the country, Amelia pursed her lips. It was indeed a strange experience for her. After thinking for a moment, Amelia said...

"Give my regards to Mr. Dumbledore, and also to the three young wizards who helped me last time."

"I will take care of it."

Amosta nodded, gave Amelia a deep look, then turned and strode away towards the sun.

Chapter 977 The Beginning of Another Clash

2024-06-15

May has arrived, and June is just around the corner.

The sun hung in the sky for longer and longer periods. At seven o'clock in the evening, the bright moon, now missing a corner, began to appear in the southeastern sky, while the clouds on the southwestern horizon were still shrouded in a blood-red glow.

To avoid the still-hot weather at five or six o'clock, Harry and his friends now habitually go to the playground for morning exercises after dinner.

When the three of them arrived at the Quidditch pitch, Harry glanced at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, at the small house with its doors tightly shut, draped in a reddish-gold veil, and sighed in disappointment.

Hagrid left the school not long after Voldemort's resurrection, and like Professor Blaine, he has been missing for almost two months.

He knew Hagrid had gone to carry out the task assigned by Professor Dumbledore, but with him not returning for so long, Harry couldn't help but worry that something might have happened to Hagrid. After all, he didn't possess the reassuring strength of Professor Blaine or Professor Dumbledore.

Of course, Hagrid is most likely safe. If something had happened to him, Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to appear in the Great Hall at every mealtime for the past two months, chatting with Professor McGonagall and Snape, whose face was becoming increasingly gloomy.

The last conversation with Hagrid wasn't very pleasant, because he refused to tell them what important task Dumbledore had given him, and Hagrid said it was Dumbledore who instructed him to do so.

This inevitably angered teenagers who are at an emotionally sensitive age.

However, that anger had long since dissipated over the past two months. Now, his heart was filled with worry for Hagrid, so much so that he did not join Hermione and Ron in their discussion, which they had discussed many times in recent days, about what kind of challenge Professor Blaine would give the warriors in the third Triwizard Tournament.

"If this continues, Harry—"

As they left the Quidditch pitch, dusk finally fell. They walked against the students who were out for a stroll after dinner, heading towards the brightly lit castle. Rolling their eyes enviously, they muttered to themselves, "Ron, the champion, doesn't have to take final exams!" Hermione fanned her flushed cheeks with her hand and calmly said to Harry, "..."

"You'll soon be just like Beauxbatons' hero, Harry—"

Hermione said something strange, but Harry understood it; they had discussed it before.

Since Professor Blaine left Hogwarts, Fleur has become listless, as if nothing in the school can interest her anymore. She doesn't even talk much to Beauxbatons' classmates and spends most of her time alone.

Hermione is right, Harry—

Ron walked around Hermione to Harry's side, hooked his arm around his neck, and said...

“You need to be on your guard. Don’t forget, Professor McGonagall has warned you that if you daydream in her class again, she will put you in solitary confinement until the end of the semester and forbid you from going to Hogsmeade.”

Harry muttered something, a response to Hermione and Ron's well-intentioned reminder.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance and sighed in unison when they saw his absent-minded look.

Inside the Great Hall, at the Gryffindor dining table, Fred and George seemed to have told a joke, which made Neville laugh heartily. The cheerful laughter attracted the attention of many young wizards and staff in the Great Hall, and even Professor Dumbledore, whose expression was much calmer than usual that night, couldn't help but smile.

But Harry wasn't interested in any of this; he merely glanced at the commotion before turning away and heading upstairs.

"Ahem-"

Ron, who had landed at the bottom of the stairs, coughed awkwardly twice, looking as if he wanted to say something but couldn't.

“If you’re going on a date with Lavender, then go, Ron. No need to rack your brains for excuses—”

Harry turned his head listlessly and said that in that fleeting glance he had just caught Lavender at the table giving Ron an eager look.

"What? I didn't—"

Ron clearly hadn't expected Harry's sarcastic remark to be so sharp, and coupled with Hermione's ambiguous smile, his cheeks were redder than the setting sun.

“I’m not going to make excuses,”

Ron mumbled indistinctly,

“I just said, um, maybe I might need your invisibility cloak, Harry.”

"Oh, sorry, I forgot."

Harry shrugged, pulled the Invisibility Cloak from his bag and tossed it to Ron over the stairs, then turned and went straight upstairs.

"I need to go to the library, Harry—"

As they reached the second-floor platform, Hermione called out to Harry.

Harry just shrugged, said nothing, and continued walking upstairs.

Watching Harry's slightly dejected figure, Hermione blinked her beautiful brown eyes, hesitating whether to tell Harry that the New York Ghost had reported that Professor Blaine had left New York and had now returned to England, but in the end, she said nothing.

Harry's biggest problem was that he prioritized everything related to Voldemort above all else. But Professor Dumbledore and Professor Blaine, especially Professor Blaine, kept trying to tell them that what they should be doing now was arming themselves with knowledge and focusing on their current lives.

Every summer, the sound of the evening breeze blowing through the forbidden forest is like the pleasant sound of the tide rising and falling under the moonlight.

Breathing in the familiar air and gazing at the castle he hadn't seen for nearly two months, Amostella's lips unconsciously curled into a smile. He had to admit that he was becoming more and more accustomed to life at Hogwarts.

A suppressed cry of pain suddenly rang out in the gentle evening breeze, drawing Amosta's gaze, which was sweeping around, toward the marble steps outside the foyer.

Watching the two little ones, who had tripped and fallen in their panic, help each other and quietly slip into the foyer under the Invisibility Cloak, Amosta chuckled. Instead of rushing back to his office, he pointed to the hut with lights on at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. After a moment's thought, he strode toward it.

Hagrid opened the window, letting the cool evening breeze carry away the oppressive feeling in the room. He turned around and saw Axe eyeing the dragon meat he was using to treat his wounds.

"Oh, here you go--"

Hagrid impatiently tossed the dragon meat next to the stove, while Fangtooth darted over like a black lightning bolt.

Dom carefully approached the table with the kettle, and under Dumbledore's smiling gaze, he shakily filled the two cups on the table with tea. Before Dumbledore could thank him, he shrank back into the shadows of the cabinet, afraid of getting in the way. Meanwhile, Amostella was staring thoughtfully at the oil lamp and did not notice Dom.

"That's how it is, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Blaine—"