The Return to Hogwarts

"Professor Blaine—"

While eating, Hermione stopped looking at the letters. She chewed her steak slowly, secretly glancing at Professor Blaine in the lamplight. His pale purple eyes seemed to hold unfathomable magic. For some reason, her heart suddenly skipped a beat.

"Regarding what you mentioned to me in the library last week—"

"Ok?"

Amostella focused on the food on her plate, responding only with a nasal tone. Only after swallowing did she look at Hermione, whose cheeks were slightly flushed.

"You've gained some insights, haven't you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione didn't speak, because she didn't know how to describe the faint loneliness in her heart. After a long while, under Amosta's gentle gaze, she nodded hesitantly.

“The strong are always lonely, Miss Granger, but life is ultimately lonely. Apart from ideals and beliefs, everything and everyone we encounter on our path toward demise can only accompany us for a time. Once you understand this, there is nothing to hesitate about.”

Amosta's calm words not only failed to answer the little witch's questions across the table, but instead plunged her into even greater panic.

After dinner, Amosta completely gave up. No matter how angry Miss Granger glared at him, he just slumped in his chair, his bored eyes wandering around.

Professor Lockhart's desk was covered with his personal books published by different publishers. Underneath the autobiographies in the upper left corner of the desk was a manuscript on memory magic that Amosta had seen by chance during his last visit. It was an ancient wizard's research manuscript. To be honest, it was a very precious item. Amosta himself would definitely keep it close to him instead of leaving it lying around like Lockhart did.

Although he really wanted to take it out and study it, basic moral principles forced Amosta to abandon the idea.

To the right of the desk was another thick stack of manuscripts. Amosta had glanced at them when he entered the office earlier; they seemed to be Professor Lockhart's unpublished book, titled "A Year Living with the Summerset Giants."

"Tsk tsk, heavy taste!"

Out of boredom, Amosta picked up the manuscript. Compared to the research manuscripts of ancient wizards, this thing was less taboo.

The candlelight flickered, and a cool evening breeze gently pattered against the glass. The office was quiet except for the rustling of a quill pen scratching across parchment and the turning of pages.

After an unknown amount of time, Hermione, who was engrossed in her work, suddenly frowned and inexplicably sensed a chill. She looked up in surprise and, after scanning the area, discovered the source of the chill: a cold smile on Amostella's lips as he intently examined the manuscript.

"professor--"

After hesitating for a moment, Hermione finally opened her mouth and cautiously asked, "What are you looking at?"

"Professor Lockhart's new book manuscript, which records his process of 'discovering' this story, is, I must say, very interesting—"

Professor Lockhart's books are all about his personal experiences, so why does Professor Blaine use the word 'discovery'?

Furthermore, it's not right to peek at Professor Lockhart's private manuscripts without permission, Professor!

Before Hermione could even ask a question, Amosta slammed the manuscript onto the table, his calm voice carrying an undeniable authority.

"That's all for today, Miss Granger. You should go back and rest."

Looking at Hermione, who had just closed the door and was still confused, Amostella felt a pang of sympathy. She thought that when Professor Lockhart was disgraced, Miss Granger would probably feel ashamed for having once admired such a scoundrel.

Amosta stood up and suddenly waved her wand. At the same time, the drawers under her desk and the suitcases on the wall opened, and stacks of hidden manuscripts flew from all directions to Amosta. They stood in mid-air, slowly turning page by page, showing Amosta the secrets they recorded that were unknown, heinous, and unforgivable.

"Humph--"

After a while, Amosta, who had quickly glanced through all the manuscripts, let out a cold snort. He looked at the framed picture on the tea table. The wizard in the picture was no longer smiling, but was huddled in a corner of the picture, staring at Amosta in terror, trembling all over.

"You've got some guts, Professor Lockhart. I'm impressed."

Amosta chuckled softly as he sat alone in his office.

Chapter 51 Notebook

Hermione couldn't understand why Professor Blaine had that expression when he saw Professor Lockhart's unpublished manuscript. Did Professor Lockhart's new book not sound good, disappointing Professor Blaine? Hermione's confusion hadn't completely disappeared when she entered the mansion's lounge through the portrait of the Fat Lady.

It was quite late, and the large common room was quiet and almost empty, except for Harry and Ron, who were curled up on the soft sofa near the fireplace, dozing off. Needless to say, they were waiting for her.

How can life be lonely?

On her way to Harry and Ron, Hermione pursed her lips, the thought flashing through her mind.

Why aren't you two sleeping in your dorms yet?

Although she knew they were waiting for her, Hermione still raised her delicate eyebrows and wore a haughty expression as she walked in.

"What else could it be? Of course, I'm worried that you'll get so engrossed in your enjoyable work that you'll forget about dinner!"

Harry and Ron, who were already snoring, were startled awake by the noise. They rubbed their sleepy eyes, and Ron sat up with a disgruntled grumble.

Hermione sat opposite them, looking at the abundance of food on the coffee table, a faint smile playing on her lips. Although she wasn't hungry, she felt a warm glow inside.

At that moment, Hermione noticed a black notebook under a few slices of toast. Judging from its worn cover, the notebook seemed to be quite old.

Ron, noticing Hermione's gaze, shrugged indifferently and gave Harry a look, signaling him to explain.

"--In the afternoon, on our way back to the dormitory, Ron and I passed the second floor and found Myrtle throwing a tantrum in the washroom. Out of curiosity, we went in to take a look and found that the owner of this notebook was Tom Riddle!"

Harry emphasized that he believed Hermione understood what he was trying to say, adding, "Ron thought this thing might be dangerous and advised me to throw it away."

"Throw it away?"

Hermione, forgetting her fatigue and filled with excitement, picked up the notebook and examined it carefully, inside and out. "What nonsense are you talking about, Ron? There might be a clue in this!"

“Well, he’s certainly hidden the clues quite cleverly,” Ron said. “Maybe it’s just too embarrassed to show itself. I really don’t understand what you’d do with it, Harry.”

“I’d like to know why anyone would want to throw it away,” Harry thought. “Also, I’d like to know how Riddle received the Special Contribution Award for Hogwarts.”

“There are plenty of possibilities, Harry,” Ron said nonchalantly. “Maybe he got thirty OWL certificates, or saved a teacher from the giant squid’s claws, or maybe he murdered Myrtle. That would be something everyone would be happy with.”

All three of them knew that the locked room had been opened fifty years ago, a student died, the murderer was expelled, and Riddle happened to receive a special award at that time. It didn't take much imagination to figure out that there must be some connection between them.

Hermione fiddled with the notebook for ages, but couldn't get a single word out of the blank pages, and finally had to give up in disappointment.

"Perhaps we should give this to Professor Blaine or Headmaster Dumbledore; wizards like them are sure to uncover the notebook's secrets."

Hermione frowned as she offered her advice.

However, this reasonable suggestion was unexpectedly met with strong opposition from Harry.

“Not many people at school are talking about this anymore, Hermione. I don’t want to make a big fuss about what if—I mean, what if—that heir comes out and continues to operate? Then I’ll have you give this to Professor Blaine!”

Actually, this was just an excuse. Harry couldn't even explain to himself why he didn't just throw Riddle's diary away. In reality, for the next few days, even though he knew the diary was empty, he would always take it out thoughtfully when no one was around, hoping to find something in it.

A new week has begun, and February has officially entered its second half. Recently, the hottest topic at school has been Professor Blaine, who suddenly took over as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher without any warning. Wherever you go, you can hear young wizards discussing his amazing skills in the first and second year classes, as well as the division of power levels among different schools of wizards in the fifth, sixth, and seventh year classes. On the contrary, the methods that Amostall taught in class for dealing with dark wizards and dangerous creatures are hardly being discussed.

In every academy, young wizards confidently tell everyone that their relative possesses the power of a 'court wizard,' as if the magical world has suddenly returned to ancient times, where you'd be embarrassed to greet people if you didn't have two court wizards guarding your house.

As for wizards at the 'Saint' level, no junior wizard would dare to challenge them.

"Dumbledore is a saint, there is no doubt about that!"

McMillan of Hufflepuff spoke with absolute certainty to Hannah Abbott, a fellow Hufflepuff, as if he had already confirmed with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Blaine.

"As for Professor Blaine, I guess he is too."

McMillan said with certainty, "Think about it, Hannah, ever since Professor Blaine came to Hogwarts as an investigator, the heir to Slytherin has never dared to show his face again. I bet he's not confident he can handle two 'Saints' at the same time!"

Macmillan's claim was even quite popular among the young wizards. Because of the schedule changes, the third and fourth graders, who only had Professor Blaine's classes in the third week, asked with grins as soon as class started on Tuesday afternoon, "..."

"Professor Blaine, are you a 'saint'?"

Amosta, standing on the high platform, stared at the two oddballs of the Weasley family with a half-smile. He never expected to encounter an opportunity for 'revenge' so soon!

"So, Mr. Weasleys, would you like to demonstrate how to defeat a 'Saint'?"

Oh oh oh!

A roar suddenly erupted in the auditorium, like waves crashing under a typhoon. From the Hufflepuff troop, who were particularly fond of watching a spectacle, fourth-year student Cedric Diggory jumped onto a table and yelled at the twins.

"Let's see what you're capable of, Weasley!"

"Go up there and show us what you've got, Fred, George, don't embarrass Gryffindor!"

There were also quite a few people inside Gryffindor who were egging them on, with Angelina, Arya, and Katie laughing and patting the twins on the shoulder.

"This is absolutely revenge, Fred!"

As the two of them, trembling and supporting each other, made their way onto the stage, George gritted his teeth and whispered,

"Professor Blaine definitely recognized us last time at Hogsmeade!"

This match ended much faster than anyone expected.

As soon as they stepped onto the stage, before Professor Blaine could even announce the start, the twins, with remarkable tacit understanding, exchanged a glance and immediately split up and ran in two directions, surrounding Amosta from the left and right.

“Are you ready, Fred!” George shouted.

"Ready to go, brother!" Fred shouted back with a resolute expression.

Amostella watched with a smile as the two little rascals pulled out two large bags of dung from under their wizard robes, and before they could even make a move, she suddenly swung her wand down!

Bang bang bang!

The sight of hundreds of dung balls exploding at the same time and the smell they emitted were particularly moving. Fred and George, their faces covered in stinky juice, collapsed to the ground with a 'groan,' looking as if they had been cursed!

"Let's die together, Professor!"

But unexpectedly, a moment later, the twin brothers got up from the ground at the same time. They glared fiercely at Professor Blaine and charged at him with unwavering courage!

If Amosta were to be scared off by such a petty trick, then all those years he'd spent in the underworld would have been for nothing.

With his usual cheerful expression, he slowly flicked his wrist, and a red ball of light, about the size of a Quake ball and crackling with crimson lightning, emerged from the tip of his staff and flew up to the top of his head.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

Before Fred and George could even get within ten feet of him, the red orb above Professor Blaine's head suddenly shone brightly, and dozens of red beams shot out in all directions. Each of the Weasley brothers, who were rapidly approaching, took at least two or three beams with their chests, and then their eyes rolled back as they collapsed to the ground unconscious!