The Return to Hogwarts

“Professor Blaine, may we go see Ginny? Harry and Hermione are there too.”

"Sorry, little one--"

Amosta walked right through them and went downstairs.

"I think you should follow the doctor's advice and not disturb their rest. Go back to your dorms and get some sleep. If I get back to the office and find you guys still standing here like idiots, then Gryffindor's dream of winning the House Cup again this year will probably be dashed."

"Actually, I also wanted to ask Professor Blaine what he's prepared for the practical courses in the upper grades," Percy said, clicking his tongue regretfully as he stared at Professor Blaine's disappearing figure.

"Don't get your hopes up, Percy. Professor Blaine is tight-lipped. We've tried, and he won't utter a single word!"

After their shared goal was shattered, a small, unseen rift emerged among the Weasley brothers. Ron glanced at Percy, his disdain evident.

“I’m different from you, Ron. I am a—”

The twins immediately burst into laughter and cheered, "The prefect!"

"Go back to sleep, you three!"

Percy's face flushed red at a visible speed as he yelled at the twins and Ron, who had already walked away on their own.

“If you still can’t learn to behave properly in the next few months, I’ll write to Mom!”

"everything is normal?"

"Um"

For a fleeting moment as the door cracked open, Amostella glimpsed Professor Snape sitting in his chair, his hands covering his face and his shoulders trembling slightly. This unusual behavior vanished completely when the door was halfway open, and then Snape strode out of the office.

"She was scared to tears by a zombie? That can't be right!"

Amosta walked to the stool in the middle of the room, staring strangely at a few drops of water that had not yet evaporated on the ground in front of the stool legs. His eyebrows were raised high until the tear stains disappeared, then he slowly raised his head and let out a laugh that was hard to understand.

Perhaps I should find an opportunity to talk to Professor Snape before leaving Hogwarts.

With a wave of his wand, the curtains and draperies instantly closed. To ensure he wouldn't be spied on by some wicked old man, Amostella continuously drew spells in mid-air with his wand. Powerful protective spells flashed with dazzling light and were imprinted into the void, isolating his office from Hogwarts through multiple dimensions of magic and space.

At this moment, the office was like a floating island in a boundless sea, and no one but Amosta, who was inside it, could locate it.

After a period of research, with his profound magical foundation, Amosta finally digested the research data on memory magic he obtained from Lockhart, and was finally confident that he could glimpse the secrets hidden in the memory without the aid of the legendary alchemical artifact, the Pensieve, and without bringing that memory back into his brain.

The light from the fireplace and candlesticks was extinguished, and the moonlight and starlight were blocked from the room by Amosta's magic. The office was truly plunged into darkness, like an abyss.

In the eternal darkness, a sliver of silver light stained the void, like ink dripping into a clear pool. Ripples spread and spread rhythmically with each breath, and soon, a magnificent Milky Way appeared before Amosta's eyes.

Could it be a plot point I can't remember?

Amostah had been waiting for this mystery to be solved for some time. After a brief moment of dazzle, he regained his senses, and without hesitation, he plunged headfirst into the gently flowing silver mist as the magical glow enveloped his body.

Amosta is like a fish swimming in the river of time, walking lightly through forgotten memories. Images that once existed are clearly etched in his mysterious eyes. His brain is working at full speed, and his emotions rise and fall accordingly.

Do you really think we can succeed?

The school hospital was dark, and all the young wizards were quietly staying in their beds. There was only one reason why they were so well-behaved—Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout were personally overseeing the school hospital, along with Madam Pomfrey, to ensure that nothing would happen to the young wizards that night.

This was a new experience for the two professors. At that moment, they were huddled in their small office, chatting animatedly with Mrs. Pomfrey under the soft moonlight.

However, the young wizards were not so easily subdued. Professor McGonagall ordered them to go to sleep, and although they dared not disobey, countless secret messages were exchanged between them.

Harry's partner wasn't Hermione—his partner was lying on the opposite bed, staring at him with a sinister look, so he could only talk to Hermione about 'taboo' topics.

"I don't think Professor Blaine would lie to us."

The crane, fluttering its wings cautiously, slipped into Harry's bed, opened the note, and saw Hermione's opinion written in delicate handwriting.

"However, I recalled the content of every single one of Professor Blaine's classes, and I found that he had never mentioned anything about that kind of thing in the maze—"

Harry crumpled the note in frustration, turned over, and closed his eyes.

That evening, after Professor Blaine mentioned that he had already given a hint, Harry felt a flash of inspiration; the truth was within his grasp.

However, being just a tiny bit short of breaking through that barrier is indeed a very discouraging feeling.

After confirming that Harry was no longer going to continue the conversation, Hermione's beautiful eyes gradually became misty, and her thoughts became less clear.

She tucked herself in and prepared to rest, but after tossing and turning for a long time, she still couldn't fall asleep.

The quiet ward became a battlefield of snores of varying styles, with Hermione leaving only her forehead outside the blankets, entrusting her body to the warm bedding.

"What did Professor Blaine do before he came to Hogwarts?"

On their first night, Professor Blaine explained to everyone that the dark creatures in the labyrinth were ones he had encountered on his journey. Because they had some research value, he kept a few behind. What kind of journey would lead to dealing with such dangerous creatures?

With questions that may never be answered, Hermione's eyelids drooped, and she soon fell into a deep sleep. Meanwhile, Amostella dispersed the silver mist, returned to her chair behind her desk, and fell into a long silence.

Chapter 69 Persistence and Giving Up

Amosta had removed all the protective magic that had enveloped the office, and the faint starlight once again shone through the curtains fluttering in the breeze onto the dark floor of the office. Amosta leaned back in his chair, staring at the dappled light and shadows, his expression revealing his exhaustion.

Before browsing through his memories, Amosta anticipated seeing some interesting information, but no matter how vivid his imagination was, he never expected that the memories he had 'deleted' would contain such incredible information.

"Harry Potter--"

After a long while, Amosta closed his eyes, a bitter smile appearing on his lips.

The memories hidden under the dormitory floorboards are unrelated to the plot, but their importance is no less than that of the plot; in fact, it could be said that they are memories that influence the 'future direction'.

"No wonder I took such thorough precautions back then--"

Amostah murmured softly, the bitter smile on his lips unconsciously turning into a sinister look, his eyes showing not only relief but also doubt.

"--Have I been dragged into this after all? But why would I go to such lengths? Is it even possible?"

The content of the memory itself helped Amosta understand why it existed and why the clues only surfaced when he returned to Hogwarts and met Harry Potter. However, its existence also gave Amosta deeper questions, questions that could not be answered at present. Only by following the river of time step by step would its mystery be unveiled one day in the future.

"The butterfly effect—it seems my appearance has only complicated the problem further?"

Twirling his wand, Amostah turned his gaze to the voodoo doll on the bookshelf. Its nose was on the verge of breaking, and the candle made of dragon blood had turned a pale pink. He could already sense that the doll would not last much longer under the ravages of the Dark Lord's power, which meant that his time at Hogwarts was about to begin its countdown.

"It's almost done cooking—"

Amosta snorted and let out a cryptic laugh; he had already caught a whiff of 'freedom'.

"The eight-eyed spider is a highly aggressive, social, dark creature. Currently, no creature's flesh has been found that the eight-eyed spider dislikes, including human flesh."

Amostella's explanation calmed the excited young wizards who had 'legally' entered the edge of the Forbidden Forest, causing them to refocus their wildly unbridled attention on the juvenile eight-eyed spider behind Professor Blaine.

"You can tell from its size that it is a magical creature with excellent speed and strength. In particular, you should be aware that the venom of an adult eight-eyed spider can even render a fire dragon immobile."

Amostella spoke eloquently to the group of young wizards.

"However, it is still not difficult to deal with, because the weakness of the eight-eyed spider is as prominent as its strength. Compared to the resistance to spells of the fur or scales of ordinary magical creatures, the magic resistance of the eight-eyed spider is about the same as that of a wizard. This means that even a first-year wizard can defeat this creature as long as he can hit the eight-eyed spider with his spell!"

"Professor Blaine!"

Katie Bell of Gryffindor raised her hand, her voice a mixture of excitement and fear.

"If we are bitten by an eight-eyed spider, will it lay eggs inside our bodies?"

“Why can’t you ask a less disgusting question, Katie?” Arya said, disgruntled.

Click, click, click.

Amostella chuckled, waved his hand to dispel his petrification spell, and loudly instructed the eager young wizards.

"Step back three hundred feet and line up. Try to petrify or stun the eight-eyed spider before it rushes over and injects its venom into your bodies."

Friendly reminder, everyone, at this distance, the eight-eyed spider will be in front of you in less than five seconds, which means you only have two chances to cast a spell.

You must be prepared to go all in, understand? If you fail, you'll have to swallow the bitter pill yourself, because I won't intervene. You should thank the first and second-year students; I've lowered the difficulty of the practical course to a level that even Filch could handle!

Faced with a group of excited young wizards, the eight-eyed spider, holding its black claws high, closed its eyes in 'despair,' as if it had already foreseen its tragic end.

This happened during a Defense Against the Dark Arts practice class for third, fourth, and fifth graders. Due to Professor McGonagall's strong opposition, Amostra had to cancel the original plan to find a closed classroom to recreate the environment of the Forbidden Forest, allowing the young wizards to fight the eight-eyed spiders one-on-one in complete uncertainty.

However, this level of difficulty seems just right for young wizards, and most people can have a great time playing it.

Some, with both courage and combat skills, such as the Weasley twins and Cedric of Hufflepuff, were even able to easily outmaneuver this unfortunate eight-eyed spider!

That evening in the Gryffindor common room, when Ron, who had been anxious about tomorrow's practical class, heard Fred and George boasting to the crowd that they had killed two of the eight-eyed spider's thin limbs with a petrification charm and a crushing charm, he immediately showed a look of relief.

"No matter what you're dealing with, you have to be better than a spider!"

Ron's trembling words caused Harrygan and Hermione to exchange bewildered glances. They knew that Ron's confidence would only last until Defense Against the Dark Arts class; Professor Blaine would show Ron what 'the wickedness of the human heart' truly meant!

"Speaking of which--"

Ron chewed on a piece of pumpkin pie, frowning as he looked at Harry and Hermione, who had been in a daze for the past two days, and said...

"Don't you two have any ideas yet?"

Upon hearing this, Harry slumped onto the sofa, and Hermione put down her transfiguration paper and sighed.

"It's harder than I imagined, Ron. I think you should be mentally prepared."

Professor Blaine's words at the university hospital were inspiring, but for those of us lacking practical experience, it can't be that easy, can it?

Hermione looked at Ron, who seemed to have accepted his fate, and said...

"That's not something that can be solved by simply knocking someone out of the head with a Levitation Charm."

Since Professor Blaine agreed to give everyone another chance to give up at the school hospital that night, almost all the junior wizards who had already seen the Inferi chose to give up, and a considerable number of the junior wizards who were originally preparing to enter the maze in a second wave also made a new decision.

Actually, Ron had considered giving up, but seeing that Harry and Hermione continued to persevere, and even Neville spending his days squatting in front of the fireplace racking his brains for a simple spell to defeat the dark creatures in the maze, Ron had no choice but to grit his teeth and persevere in order to protect his fragile self-esteem.