The Return to Hogwarts

"What do you mean?"

Amosta's expression suddenly hardened.

Lupin smiled and waved at him, then turned and walked into the light. A moment later, a gentle voice reached Amosta's ears from outside the door, plunging him into a long silence.

"You have a gentle heart, Amosta—"

Chapter 103 Epilogue

After Lupin left, Amosta did not immediately leave the Leaky Cauldron. He was exhausted from several days of missions, so he asked the pub owner, Tom, to give him a room so he could rest for the night and return to the Muggle world the next day.

The London sunshine in early July was bright with a touch of languor. Amosta stayed in his room all afternoon without going out until the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon hung in the branches. Only then did he rub his sleepy eyes and slowly sit up in bed.

Once a person's mind relaxes, their body quickly falls into a relaxed state. Amosta rubbed his protesting stomach, got up, dressed, and staggered out of the room.

Because Hogwarts was on summer vacation, there were noticeably more wizards in the pub. However, most of them were just using the pub as a place to travel between the wizarding world and the Muggle world; not many wizards actually stayed there.

Amosta also saw several young wizards from the school, but since he had chosen a seat behind a pillar, which was rather secluded, the children who were excited about the start of their wonderful summer vacation did not notice him. Amosta was happy to be left alone and did not take the initiative to greet them.

Slowly chewing on a steak and sipping a couple of sips of rich red wine, Amosta quietly enjoyed the moment, a moment of leisure that belonged only to him.

The news that Rufus Scrimgeour, the Auror's Office Director, led a group of elites in a manhunt for smugglers, only to have them all sent to St. Mungo's by a dark wizard, did not appear in the Daily Prophet. Therefore, the focus of the surrounding guests' conversation remained Gilderoy Lockhart, who had just stepped down from his position as professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts in a rather undignified manner.

The saying "when a wall falls, everyone pushes it down" is a truism in any world. After his despicable crimes were reported, Lockhart, whose works were once popular throughout the European wizarding world, immediately became a rat that everyone wanted to kill. Overnight, all his former fans disappeared.

The wizards around him, discussing the topic, all sneered and claimed that they had seen through his true colors long ago, as if they would be ridiculed if they didn't.

"--Fifteen years' sentence, Wizengamo really went all out this time,"

Amosta shook his head slightly and clicked his tongue in amazement. He didn't know what the guy's fate was in the original story, but he figured it couldn't be worse than it was now.

Just as Amosta was 'praying' for Lockhart, who was experiencing prison life, a somewhat familiar voice suddenly came from beside him, making him frown.

“Sit over there, Draco. Didn’t you notice your mother was carrying something? How did I raise you?”

Amosta's lips twitched, a strange smile playing on his lips.

Draco, who was arrogant and domineering at school and had the typical rich kid attitude, was not exactly well-behaved at home. However, he never dared to disobey his father's orders. After taking the things from his mother Narcissa's hands by almost snatching them away, he turned his back to Lucius, rolled his eyes, and muttered as he walked towards Amosta.

"Gryffindor lost to Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff won, and then Ravenclaw also lost to Hufflepuff. You defeated Hufflepuff, lost to Gryffindor in the final match, but had a higher total score than Gryffindor, so you won the championship?"

Amostella raised an eyebrow, looking at Draco, who was excited yet somewhat reserved upon meeting her, and winked with a smile.

"Wood didn't kill Potter?"

"I suspect he wants to kill the entire Gryffindor team!"

Draco grinned with satisfaction. His father's expulsion from the Hogwarts Board of Governors had indeed made him depressed for a while, but the Quidditch victory ultimately regained all the face he had lost!

Draco couldn't suppress a smile whenever he thought about how the final score between Gryffindor and Slytherin was 170-130, and how Madam Hooch declared Slytherin the winner by a large margin, and how the Gryffindor players were frozen in place on their flying brooms as if petrified.

As Draco patiently recounted the details of the final match to the smiling Amostella, Lucius remained eerily silent. He neither looked at his son nor at Amostella; his pale gray eyes were fixed on the passersby in the bar, radiating a chilling aura.

"Draco."

Narcissa Malfoy, who had also been silent, suddenly interrupted her son's boasting. She glanced at her husband without changing her expression, stood up, and spoke in a tone much more solemn than when she spoke to Draco.

“I suddenly remembered that the dresses I ordered from Tuofan Clothing Store seem to be finished. I need you to come with me.”

"It's just a few pieces of clothing, Mom, there's absolutely no need for that—"

"How dare you disobey your mother's orders, Draco?"

Lucius snapped out of his wooden daze, glared at Malfoy, and said sternly.

Watching Draco reluctantly follow his mother out of the Leaky Cauldron, Amostella withdrew her gaze, flicked her wand, and chanted "Bend your ears," then smiled at Lucius Malfoy.

“Your wife is very beautiful, Lucius, and also very intelligent.”

Lucius remained silent, scrutinizing the enigmatic young wizard before him, his breathing quickening unconsciously.

"--I've heard that you've been in a lot of trouble ever since you lost your position as a Hogwarts school board member."

Arthur Weasley, the father of the Weasley children and head of the Department for the Prohibition of Muggle Articles, seems to have made quite a few trips to your manor seeking revenge for his youngest daughter, and has found quite a few interesting trinkets?

Thinking of that disgraceful pure-blood wizard, Lucius's gray eyes almost blazed with fire. Amostah was right; the trouble Arthur Weasley had caused him recently had made him a laughingstock among pure-blood families. What troubled him was that although Arthur did not hold a high position, he had extensive experience in the Ministry of Magic and had good relationships with many people. His attempts to put pressure on him through higher-ups were not as effective as he had hoped.

"Isn't this all thanks to you, my friend?"

Banishing the image of that self-degrading fool who liked Muggles from his mind, Lucius took a deep breath and looked at Amostella. A faint, cold smile appeared on his face, but there was no real joy in his gray eyes.

"There's something that's been puzzling me for a long time, Mr. Blaine. You broke into Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, subdued that beast, and saved several students. To reward you, Fudge even went through special procedures to award you a useless medal, but why didn't the Daily Prophet report on it at all? It's as if everything was done by Harry Potter and his reckless friends."

"What do you think the reason might be, Mr. Malfoy?"

Amosta picked up his wine glass, took a sip of red wine, and smiled slightly.

Chapter 104 You're going to die

As one of the twenty-eight holy pure-blood families, a business magnate in the British wizarding world, and the de facto head of the Malfoy family, renowned for its wealth and shrewdness, Lucius Malfoy should naturally be a wizard who has seen the world.

Malfoy had dealt with high-ranking officials of the Ministry of Magic in Britain and many other European countries, renowned scholars, highly skilled potion masters, greedy and cunning goblins, and many outstanding wizards who were the best in their respective fields on various occasions.

But to be honest, Lucius didn't know how to describe the feeling this young wizard gave him; it was somewhat like facing Dumbledore, and somewhat like facing a younger version of himself.

"--I think,"

Lucius found his own feelings laughable. He subtly adjusted his breathing, loosening his tense expression, and attempted to use his extensive negotiation experience to gain the upper hand in the exchange.

"Could it be that Dumbledore was afraid you would steal the limelight from his prized student, so he specially spoke to the Minister?"

"Your ability to sow discord is truly disappointing, Mr. Malfoy—"

Amosta's smile remained unchanged, only a hint of amusement flickered in his purple eyes.

"If you're really curious, Mr. Malfoy, I can tell you. Actually, it was a request I made to Dumbledore, and as for the reason—"

Lucius instinctively held his breath, staring intently into Amosta's eyes, hoping to put some pressure on the young man. However, the words that followed shattered all his calculations and feigned indifference.

"Of course, it's so that one day in the future, when that dark wizard whose name can't even be mentioned reappears in people's sight, he won't turn his anger on me after he learns about what happened at Hogwarts last year. Seriously, Mr. Malfoy, you don't actually think that what you secretly slipped into Ginny Weasley's bag was just an ordinary diary, or some little gadget that the Dark Lord made because he was too bored in Professor Binns' History of Magic class when he was at Hogwarts, do you?"

"What do you mean?!"

Judging from the fine beads of sweat seeping from his not-so-full forehead, it's no exaggeration to say that the word "utterly astonished" perfectly describes Lucius Malfoy's state of mind at that moment.

Lucius's face was horribly pale, his lips were cracked like parched land, and the feigned composure in his eyes turned into turbulent unease and fear in a short moment.

"The Dark Lord is finished, isn't he? Harry Potter broke his magic, that's a truth everyone knows!"

"Since you're so keen on self-deception, then go ahead, Mr. Malfoy. It's not me who's going to be in trouble anyway."

Lucius's breathing was like the sound of a bellows being pulled. His bloodshot gray eyes were fixed on Amosta, who was leisurely sipping his red wine. Fear even made his legs, which were hidden under the table, tremble.

Will the Dark Lord return?

Among Voldemort's former followers known as Death Eaters, a considerable number still harbored feelings for their former master, but Lucius Malfoy was certainly not among them.

He would never forget what methods he used and what guarantees he made after the Dark Lord's downfall to save himself from associating with the Dementors in Azkaban. If the Dark Lord were to return one day, the Malfoy family would certainly not be rewarded.

Lucius knew how terrifying the Dark Lord was. He didn't want to deceive himself and never imagined that the Dark Lord would ever return. But as time went on, he thought that the probability of such a thing happening was almost zero. Otherwise, he would never have stuffed the things that the Dark Lord had entrusted to him and solemnly instructed him to keep safe into that little girl's schoolbag, just to see her father make a fool of himself!

"Only that senile old man Dumbledore thinks he'll come back. He's trying to scare people so he can keep getting respected!"

Lucius had no time to worry about his hoarse, broken voice; he spoke with the last vestiges of his reason.

"Maybe--"

Amosta shrugged noncommittally.

“At least I think Dumbledore’s concerns are justified, Mr. Malfoy. You clearly know more about the Dark Lord’s powers than I do, don’t you?”

Amosta's words struck Lucius squarely at his weak point. He clenched his teeth, his expression one of utter shock, and it wasn't until much later that his heart, dormant with cold, began to beat again.

"Dumbledore told you. You know what that diary is, right? Tell me!"

"I'm telling you all this today only to prepare you, Mr. Malfoy, not to save your lowly life,"

Amosta lowered his eyelids, his gaze deep and intense.

"I care nothing for your fate, Malfoy, but if I could, I would like to save Draco's innocent soul. If the Dark Lord ever returns to the people, I hope you will be prepared to ensure Draco and his mother are spared. As for you, Lucius Malfoy, you can only wait to die."

Lucius Malfoy was a shrewd businessman who spent half his life working for two things: the glory of his family and the wealth of his fortune.

But none of that matters compared to the lives of Narcissa and Draco!

"Tell me, Blaine, what exactly is that thing, if you truly have pity on Draco!"

Lucius's growl was masked by the effects of the Amostella spell, but his unusual state still attracted the attention of many. Tom, the bar owner behind the bar, clearly recognized the famous Mr. Malfoy. After a moment's hesitation, just as he was about to come over and ask what was going on, the deep gaze that the young man opposite Mr. Malfoy glanced at him seemingly unintentionally made him freeze in his tracks.

“I know who got you into Hogwarts, Blaine!”

If Lucius were still rational and as astute as usual, he would know that his words not only failed to resolve his confusion but also were highly likely to enrage Amostrath Blaine. Unfortunately, the safety of Narcissa and Draco clouded his judgment, causing him to speak recklessly.

“I know Fudge, Blaine. He certainly didn’t expect that by issuing a special order, he would award a precious Merlin Second Class medal to a criminal who roams the underworld, right? I can figure out your identity there, Blaine. You certainly don’t want to be disgraced, do you?”

"Oh, how interesting, you're actually trying to dig up dirt on me?"

Amosta set down his glass and gave a cold laugh.

"Malfoy, even though I never specifically inquired about it, I still hear about the despicable things you've done in private one after another. I heard that after Arthur Weasley emptied all the stuff you had hidden in your house, you spent a lot of money to avoid punishment?"