The Return to Hogwarts

Sure enough, Dumbledore was up to no good!

Dumbledore frowned in distress and remained silent, while Amosta raised his eyebrows and twitched his lips, but did not reply immediately.

An awkward and suffocating silence descended abruptly, and in the office, only Dumbledore's alchemical tools, whose purpose was unclear, jingled like wind chimes.

"Let me ask you a question first, Headmaster Dumbledore—"

After a long pause, Amosta broke the awkward silence first, "If I refuse your request, you won't arrest me and send me to some place like Nurmengard or Azkaban, will you?"

“Oh, of course not, Amosta,”

Dumbledore chuckled. "It's entirely my fault, Amosta. I've come to ask for your help. Actually, sometimes I really wish someone could understand my predicament. Finding a qualified Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is much harder than figuring out the twelve uses of dragon blood—"

Amosta pursed his lips, his expression revealing no hidden emotions.

"There's been an unconfirmed rumor circulating privately about the professor of this course: Headmaster Dumbledore."

“I cannot deceive you, Amosta,”

Dumbledore's expression turned solemn, and he nodded, saying, "Although there is no direct evidence, since I rejected Voldemort's application for this teaching position, no professor has been able to stay in this position for more than a year."

Amosta sat calmly, not in a hurry to express his opinion.

"--However, with two Defense Against the Dark Arts professors in the school at the same time, and only teaching for a few months, I believe the risks are manageable."

"If you think the risks are controllable, then why don't you teach them yourself?" Amosta rolled his eyes inwardly and remained silent.

“I can pay you for a whole year, Amosta, if you’re willing to help those promising kids.”

Dumbledore spoke earnestly and patiently.

In his office, Amostella sat in his seat deep in thought. He neither agreed nor objected to Dumbledore's request, but simply said that he would think about it carefully.

The Dark Lord cursed this position, and the power of the curse has never weakened in decades. Even Dumbledore couldn't do anything about it, so you can imagine how much effort the Dark Lord put into it back then.

Based on Amosta's thoughts during the Christmas break, he certainly wouldn't accept this risky job.

The reason why Amosta didn't immediately refuse is because he has new considerations.

Before receiving this task and entering Hogwarts, Amosta subconsciously thought that this commission would only take a few months to solve; otherwise, the Chamber of Secrets case would interfere with the great savior Harry Potter's adventures in the next school year.

However, the reality may not be like that.

Because of my intervention, the plot of the original book has definitely changed significantly, which means that the originally destined ending has actually been altered.

If the heir is truly a very cautious person, then he wouldn't need to provoke Amosta.

If the heir is determined to outlast Amosta, Amosta, passively waiting for clues, is almost destined to lose this protracted battle, because Amosta cannot stay in school forever because of this.

In this situation, the information that Porter's team already possessed became extremely important. As long as he could provide a crucial clue, Amosta was confident that he could follow the trail and find the secret room before everyone else.

Amosta had also pondered how to gain Porter's trust further, and his conclusion was that if he continued to be labeled as an investigator, he would probably find it difficult to break through the psychological defenses of Porter and his two friends.

But if you change your identity, say, become a professor, things might be simpler. At the very least, the frequent opportunities for contact would make your relationship with them more amicable.

"So."

Having made up his mind, Amosta took a deep breath.

He waved his wand and cleaned up the messy desk.

"Let me test your curse, Mr. Dark Lord."

Chapter 39 Not to be underestimated

Amosta had tidied up the desk spotlessly, and to avoid damage, even the candlesticks and the photo of him and his grandmother Ferrena were moved to another location.

Before he began, he glanced at the surveillance wall opposite him. Hogwarts was peaceful, and nothing unusual was happening.

After a sigh, Amosta went back to the bedside to retrieve his travel briefcase, searched around, and took out a very strangely shaped candlestick.

The lower half of the candlestick is a voodoo doll with eyes the size of an infant's fist, gaping teeth that stretch down to its earlobes, and a head about half the size of its body. The doll is entirely black, and its swollen face bears a chilling smile.

Amosta was unwilling to delve into the materials used to make the doll.

He bought this alchemical item from the underground marketplace; the wizard who sold it to him was from Waggadugu in Africa.

Of all the magical civilizations that have flourished, Vagadug is probably the most chaotic region, likely due to the impact of the complex Muggle social order.

Even today, there are still many people living in tribal form there, and the leaders of these tribes are generally shamans with a long tradition.

The tribal shamans still retain many ancient spells with extremely cruel and bloody methods of casting. Curses and sacrifices are their most proficient methods. To be honest, even a powerful shaman like Amosta is unwilling to easily provoke these perverts.

On the top of the voodoo doll's head, the upper part of the candlestick is a transparent tube filled with candle liquid. Because the doll has never been used, the tube is clean and without any stains.

Next, it's time to make the candle liquid.

Amosta reached into the box again, and after a short while, pulled out a bottle of scarlet dragon blood.

This bottle of dragon blood came from the Norwegian Redscaled Dragon that Amostra killed. He had collected a lot of dragon blood at the time, but because he was afraid that selling it in large quantities would alert the Ministry of Magic, Amostra had a rich reserve of dragon blood.

As everyone knows, almost every part of a dragon is a treasure, especially its blood and nerves, which contain abundant magic power and are excellent ingredients for potions and spellcasting.

He poured the dragon blood into the transparent tube on the top of the voodoo doll's head, observing the crimson mist rising from the slightly rippling liquid. Amostah nodded in satisfaction. Now, it was time to pay a price.

Amostah flicked his sleeve, revealing his arm. A dark silver glint flashed in the dim air, and the gushing blood, under the influence of magic, condensed into a winding stream, precisely merging with the dragon blood in the tube.

An ominous magic permeated the office, seemingly capable of swallowing up light. The candlesticks on the bookshelf, their once radiant light now growing dimmer, as if covered in dust.

Amosta's expression was solemn, and two vortexes seemed to be slowly flowing in his pale purple eyes. He kept shaking his wand, and black, tadpole-shaped magical runes kept emerging from the gray light-filled wand. These tadpole-shaped magical runes seemed to have a life of their own, and they swam in the void in front of Amosta, leaving light-colored ink marks in the space.

Go then-

With Amosta's slightly authoritative command, hundreds of tadpole-like runes rushed towards the dragon blood mixed with Amosta's blood, like weary birds returning to their nests.

A strange breeze suddenly stirred in the quiet room, and the tadpole-like runes propelled the blood to swirl. Tiny, blood-red sparks of electricity occasionally flashed across the sunken surface of the liquid, a truly horrifying sight.

The magic that Amostah continuously poured into it flowed like a gray current. Under the catalysis of his own magic, the magic contained in the tadpole runes gradually merged with the magic in the blood. The dragon blood also gradually changed from a smooth liquid to a thick state. Before the blood completely solidified, Amostah plucked a lock of hair from his head and threw it in. Thus, a bright red candle with a wick was finally made.

In the dim light, Amosta wiped away non-existent sweat from his forehead, relaxed his shoulders slightly, but his expression was far from relaxed.

"Pong!"

The lit candle emitted a flame nearly three feet high, golden in color but with a dark gray halo, which, from a distance, looked like a vigorous torch stuck on the head of a voodoo doll.

Logically, a candle burning at such a terrifying speed should only last a few minutes before going out. However, this strange candle's thick body never shrank, as if what was being consumed was not the wax or the wick.

"It's up to you now."

Amostah's eyelashes trembled slightly as he murmured something softly. Then, he stood upright before the voodoo doll, raised his staff with the tip pointing to the sky, his expression extremely solemn, and his deep tone sounded more like he was making a solemn oath!

"I, Amosta Blaine, voluntarily accept the invitation from Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to serve as Assistant Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

hum!

The moment the oath was sworn, the air in the office suddenly trembled violently. An incomparably powerful and evil curse, forced to manifest, suddenly descended upon Amosta, transcending the barriers of time and space. In a daze, he seemed to hear the shrill cries of countless people who had suffered torture and were cruelly murdered before their deaths!

At that very moment, Albus Dumbledore, who was sitting behind his long-legged desk in his round office on the eighth floor, suddenly awoke from his reverie. He abruptly turned his head toward Amostella's office, his solemn and sharp blue gaze seemingly piercing through the walls, watching Amostella's actions as if he were right there in the middle of it all.

The moment Voldemort's curse was applied to the doll, it was transferred away by the substitute prepared by Amostella. However, the curse, which had materialized, immediately realized it had been deceived after entering the voodoo doll's body.

An angry roar echoed from the void, and the cursed power containing terrifying magic instantly formed a tangible and rapidly expanding dark bubble. After enveloping the voodoo doll, it quickly approached Amosta!

Seeing that the magic to replace the curse was about to fail, Amosta did not panic. His eyelids twitched slightly, and his slightly furrowed brows added a touch of majesty to his cold expression. Just as the dark bubble broke through and was about two feet in front of him, Amosta suddenly withdrew his raised right hand, and the tip of his staff firmly blocked the power of the curse that had already materialized!

call!

The ever-growing curse, clashing with the powerful magic continuously gushing from the tip of Amosta's staff, created a relentless gust of wind that swept through the entire office, filling every inch of space with fleeting flashes of gray lightning.

Even the images on the monitoring wall flickered continuously due to the volatile magnetic field encompassing the entire floor.

The mysterious vortex in Amostella's eyes began to spin again, and his whole body was bathed in a thin and barely perceptible light. The magic power emanating from the tip of his staff was like the tidal wave raging under a typhoon, each wave stronger than the last!

As time passed, the bubble formed by the curse's power gradually lost ground, slowly shrinking and being forced back into the voodoo doll's body inch by inch.

Just as it completely disappeared, a thin crack suddenly appeared on the towering nose of the grinning voodoo doll, and the originally blazing demonic fire seemed to have been hit by something, and in an instant the height of the flames was reduced to only one-third of its original height.

Inside the circular office, Principal Dumbledore smiled wryly, unconsciously stood up, and then slowly sat back down, his hand already on Fawkes's paw.

Meanwhile, Professor Lockhart, whose office was on the third floor, was yawning and rubbing his eyes as he was about to go to the faculty dormitory to sleep. For some reason, he suddenly became dazed and felt as if his tired and restless body had inexplicably become energetic, as if he had drunk a large bottle of vitality tonic!

"Oh, lucky little Nika!"

Lockhart, a pleased smile on his face, returned to his desk, pulled the ornate peacock quill pen from the pen holder, and began to write furiously.

Congratulations on receiving my reply a day early!

"They're indeed not easy to deal with—"

In the messy room, Amosta gazed at the voodoo doll with its face covered in fine lines, and finally smiled with relief.

P.S.: I apologize to everyone. I have to submit a bid on Tuesday and stay up all night to work on the bid documents, so I can only update once on Monday. I will make up for it when I have time.

Chapter 40 Professorial Career

The last day of January happened to be a weekend. The weather was nice today. The bright sunshine around eight or nine o'clock shone on the shimmering lake. The newly sprouted buds of the willow trees and the emerald green lawn along the lake shore swayed in the breeze carrying the vibrant spirit of spring. The air was filled with the pleasant tranquility of a peaceful time.

On the field, four college teams, each wearing uniforms of different styles and colors, appeared at the Quidditch pitch. After some difficult and even intense negotiations, they each occupied a corner of the pitch and began practicing their team tactics.

However, in order not to reveal core secrets, apart from the solid-minded Hufflepuff, none of the other three families revealed their true level for their opponents to assess.