The Return to Hogwarts

"But why, sir?"

However, Harry still instinctively pressed on, "My Parseltongue, because of that, they... I mean, people all know that Slytherin himself is the most famous Parseltongue."

Amosta chuckled, glancing discreetly at Harry's scar, a relaxed expression spreading across his face.

"What does Parsley talk even represent, Mr. Potter? In the thousand years since Salazar Slytherin's time, there have been at least dozens of Parsley speakers in the wizarding world with clear records. I can't possibly assume you have some shady relationship with the great founder of Slytherin House just because of that—"

Seeing Harry's brightening expression, Amosta teased him.

"There are many other facts that I cannot ignore. For example, I cannot understand why Salazar Slytherin would choose a successor from Gryffindor if he were to find one for himself."

For example, how could Harry Potter, the "Boy Who Lived," who defeated the most evil dark wizard in history at the age of one, saving the British wizarding world from despair, fear, and the shadow of death, and considered a prized student by Albus Dumbledore, the greatest and wisest wizard of his time, attack his classmates at school?

Harry grinned; he found himself starting to like Mr. Amostella Blaine.

Since entering the wizarding world, many people have made a fuss about his defeat of Voldemort. Some admire him immensely, while others think he's just a attention-seeking young wizard. Some hate him, while others are indifferent. But regardless of the attitude, Harry always feels a heavy burden when this topic is brought up.

Mr. Blaine was the only exception; you could hear a completely unmalicious and disrespectful jest in his tone, as if he were simply discussing an amusing little curse.

To be honest, before meeting Mr. Blaine, Harry never expected that he would one day have such a pleasant conversation with a wizard from Slytherin.

"--If you're worried because of that notice I posted, Mr. Potter, you don't need to be."

Amosta got up and went to the fireplace to refill his cup of strong tea. Seeing that the tea in Harry's cup hadn't been touched, he stopped worrying. It was already dark outside the window, and now, only the light from Hagrid's hut remained in the Forbidden Forest.

“From beginning to end, I never thought I could get any useful information from people’s reports.”

Amos Tower was leaning against the fireplace, and Harry had to turn around to see him. Before he could ask, Mr. Blaine explained himself.

“To be honest, I thought that once the news of my investigation into the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts spread, the people behind the scenes would definitely react in some way. After all, people who dare to cause trouble under Dumbledore's nose are unlikely to tolerate the Board of Governors sending an unknown investigator. You understand what I mean, Mr. Potter?”

Harry frowned and thought about it carefully, then his brow relaxed and he nodded.

Mr. Blaine meant that if the Slytherin heir did not respond in some way to the existence of the Investigators, people would likely assume that he was intimidated by the title of Investigators, and that someone who dared to launch two attacks on young wizards even when Headmaster Dumbledore was on high alert would be unlikely to tolerate such an 'insult'.

Amosta blinked in satisfaction and continued,

"I think he might be eager to act again, which would give me a clue."

"If you stay in the office all day and don't even patrol, how are you going to catch other people doing something wrong?" Harry rolled his eyes inwardly.

"--Ideally, the attacker would come to me directly to prove his abilities. That way, I could kill him and get the money. Cough cough, I mean, settle the terrorist incident."

Amosta showed a slight hint of annoyance.

"But I didn't expect him to be so much more cautious than I imagined. I've been monitoring the castle for a week, but haven't found anything amiss, which is making me a little anxious. So, I have to do something to provoke that patient lurker."

Harry realized that Mr. Blaine's act of posting the notice was just a test. He hoped that the heir would see the notice as a provocation and thus continue his great cause as the heir to Slytherin.

Having figured this out, Harry felt incredibly relieved!

Since Mr. Blaine believes he is innocent, the rumors at school should be at least half as damaging to him, because his biggest worry is that Mr. Blaine will believe the rumors.

"Since that's the case,"

Harry stood up excitedly. "Mr. Blaine, if you don't believe I did all this, then could you help me? I mean, perhaps you could issue another announcement to explain things to everyone?"

"So you're innocent?" Amosta smiled. "Is that why you came to me, Mr. Potter? Heh, I thought you were here to report someone, just like Filch."

Harry was extremely embarrassed. He knew his request wouldn't be granted, but he still forced himself to continue.

"As you probably already know, because of Parsleyanism, the young wizards all believe I attacked Colin, Finley, and Mrs. Lorris, and wherever I go, everyone uses that... Anyway..."

Harry couldn't continue, because he saw Mr. Blaine's smile fade and his head shake.

“I understand your current predicament, Mr. Potter, but I cannot grant your request.”

Amosta spoke calmly, showing no leniency simply because the person standing before him was the protagonist, or because he was connected to the mysterious, unprocessed memory he had left behind.

"Just as I wouldn't identify you as the attacker based on rumors, I also can't tell everyone that you're definitely innocent without undeniable evidence. That would be irresponsible, Mr. Potter. I hope you can understand me."

Amos Tower's deep gaze held an unspeakable pressure that prevented Harry from making any further requests. Then, Mr. Blaine's next words made Harry tense again.

"Furthermore, there are some things you really need to explain to everyone. For example, last Halloween night, I mean, after the first attack, the reason why you, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger were in the third-floor corridor after attending Nick's death anniversary party was indeed very puzzling—"

Chapter 34 The Twins' Plans

Amosta watched Harry Potter, who looked somewhat disappointed, leave his office, and ultimately, he couldn't glean even a shred of the secrets that were best left unsaid.

Amos Tower wasn't surprised by this. Young wizards at this age are in a sensitive period, and Amos Tower himself came from Slytherin. If he were in Amos Tower's shoes, he would have no reason not to tell Headmaster Dumbledore what he knew and instead trust a stranger.

However, after the probing, Amosta did confirm that Porter was hiding some extremely crucial information. If he had known this information, the situation probably wouldn't be so passive.

"Perhaps I should think of a way to gain his trust?"

Amosta stared at the flickering light and shadow on the ceiling, frowning in distress. What should he do if the heir never revealed his true colors?

Amostella had considered that perhaps he could get some Polyjuice Potion to impersonate Colin or Justin, spread the word that the attacked wizard had woken up, and provide the school with key clues about the killer's identity, while he himself only needed to show his face as the person being impersonated and then hide in the school hospital and not come out.

This is a good method, but it has a flaw: if Colin and Justin didn't see the killer's face when they were petrified, then this method probably wouldn't scare the attacker.

Let's wait and see—

Amosta withdrew his gaze, moved his fingers towards the monitor wall, and then the curtains were silently drawn back. Staring at the swaying figures on the wall, he muttered something.

"If there's still no progress, then the only option left is to latch onto the main characters' coattails—"

Harry left Mr. Blaine's office and headed toward the Gryffindor Tower. He had originally planned to tell Hermione about the conversation, but after thinking about it carefully, Harry felt that there was no urgent need to borrow Hermione's wisdom.

He had figured out the most crucial point: Mr. Blaine wouldn't easily believe the rumors at school, and he wouldn't imprison anyone in the castle until he had concrete evidence. For Harry, that was enough.

As for not telling Mr. Blaine about the terrifying voice and Dobby's warning, this is what Harry thought.

Since Mr. Blaine refuses to clarify things for himself, it is unlikely that he will change the outcome even if he does, and it will only make him seem more suspicious.

Moreover, he always believed that if anyone needed to know these things, it should be Headmaster Dumbledore—Harry thought to himself as he passed through the doorway behind the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Apart from Percy, the Weasley children were sitting on a large, soft sofa under a bright crystal chandelier. When they saw Harry, they immediately looked relieved and waved to him happily, a scene that warmed Harry's heart.

"So, Harry, did Blaine give you a hard time because of Filch?" Ron stood up and handed Harry a glass of pumpkin juice.

“It’s better than I expected, Ron,” Harry grinned.

Twenty minutes later, after Harry recounted the entire conversation to them, the Weasleys, who had been tense and worried, relaxed considerably.

“Oh, that investigator seems a bit smarter than we thought, George. Looks like we need to adjust our plans,” Fred muttered, but his expression seemed a little disappointed. “We were going to teach him a lesson!”

“No, please don’t, Fred,” Harry said worriedly. “Mr. Blaine isn’t some fancy-looking guy like Lockhart; he’s not so easy to deal with!”

“Trust your expertise, Harry,” George said smugly. “We never fail!”

"What are you planning to do?" Ron looked at George with great interest. "Throw dung balls into his office?"

When Harry said he wouldn't be inexplicably kicked out of school anytime soon, Ginny's pale and haggard face, which looked like it hadn't slept for two weeks, regained some color. She lowered her hand from her chest and breathed a sigh of relief. However, not long after, her breathing became rapid again, and she looked very nervous.

“That Mr. Blaine said he was monitoring the school, but how did he do that? I mean, he almost never leaves his office.”

This was indeed a perplexing question, and Harry couldn't answer it either. But his intuition told him that Mr. Blaine wasn't lying. They had discussed the matter at length, and the final conclusion was that it was probably related to the wall covered by the curtain.

“Looks like we still have to make a trip, Fred!” George said to his brother with a sly grin, raising his eyebrows at the end of the conversation.

“Of course, George, besides the two of us, probably no one else can sneak into his office!” Fred winked at George.

After everyone had left, Fred whispered to George,

"You think that Blaine will get a share too?"

“Shut up, Fred!” George said urgently, watching Percy struggle to climb into the lounge. “We’ll figure this out tomorrow.”

On Tuesday morning, it was Professor Flitwick's Charms class for the third-year Gryffindor students. Today, he was introducing the young wizards to a spell that could make people laugh out loud—the Happy Charm.

"--At the end of the spellcasting, your wands need to be subtly flicked upwards. This is very important, ladies and gentlemen," Professor Flitwick said sharply from his first base standing beside the podium. "Otherwise, when you wake up, you'll find yourself lying on the floor with a black baboon standing on your chest!"

"What are you two plotting now?"

Angelina noticed that Fred and George weren't practicing their spells at all; instead, they were looking down at a piece of parchment with many densely packed words moving back and forth on the yellowed paper.

"Spying on privacy is a despicable thing, Katie. I don't want a despicable person as my teammate."

Fred turned his head away and glared at Angelina, then quietly gave George a signal. George, who immediately pulled an orange candy from his sleeve.

“If I die because of this, Fred, remember to bury my body in Filch’s office!” George said with a grin.

Three minutes later, the previously noisy classroom fell silent amidst a series of ear-piercing screams. Everyone was stunned as bright red liquid gushed from both of George's nostrils. Professor Flitwick jogged over, and when he saw George's gruesome state and the large bloodstains on Fred's robes, he too was filled with panic.

"Frey, no, George, well, whatever you two are, can someone explain to me what's going on?"

"He's dying!" Fred said, supporting the pale-faced George with a grief-stricken expression. "Could you allow me to find a place to bury my dear brother?"

“No one will die, Weasley!” Professor Flitwick said angrily.

"Take him to Madam Pomfrey's immediately. If there's still time, I hope you can come back to practice the Happy Charm. This lesson is very important, Weasley, because..."

Flitwick stopped talking before he could finish, because as soon as they heard that he had allowed them to go to the school hospital, the two Weasleys immediately jumped up and dashed out of the classroom without looking back, leaving Professor Flitwick standing bewildered in a large pool of blood.

Since it was during school hours, there were very few young wizards wandering around the castle. Fred and George, who was covering his nose, ran as fast as they could. When they reached the fourth floor, Fred suggested that he would investigate Blaine's office while George went to the school hospital for a quick check-up.

"We haven't figured out an antidote for this yet, George. It might drain all the blood from your body!"

"Don't even think about going it alone, Fred! You can't take all the credit!" George, clutching his bleeding nose, stormed up to the third floor.

Based on observations over the past few days, Amosta Blaine only leaves his mysterious office between 10:30 and 11:00 AM and between 4:00 and 4:30 PM. He first goes to the kitchen to find something to eat, then goes to the prefectural bathhouse to take a bath to relieve his fatigue, and finally rushes back without stopping.

Breaking the protective spell on the office door was much easier than the twins had anticipated; a simple Alohomora spell solved everything.