The Return to Hogwarts

The two walked away from the city lights, heading east towards the wasteland on the outskirts. Vitia followed behind Amosta. When they crossed an arched bridge over a small river, she noticed that Amosta Blaine stumbled slightly and almost subconsciously glanced at the gently flowing river. But he quickly composed himself and continued walking steadily forward.

The two walked in silence for a long time until the road leading out of the city turned into a winding, wild path. Amosta stopped, pulled out his wand from somewhere, and waved it sharply. The powerful exorcism spell caused the animals lurking in the shadows to flee in panic from the land that was about to be doomed.

“Tell me about it, Ms. Clona—”

As a burst of brilliant fire swept over Amosta's body, his short-sleeved T-shirt and jeans disappeared, replaced by a slightly worn dark green wizard's robe.

His bad mood was reflected on his face with a lazy smile.

"How did you figure out that Golden Viper is Amosta Blaine? I imagine the terrible price you're talking about isn't a huge pile of Galleons?"

"It's bird physiognomy, Mr. Blaine."

In the desolate wilderness, the billions of stars hanging in the night sky and the bright moon are the only sources of light. Vitia, exuding a 'natural aura,' seems to blend into her surroundings.

"Fortune telling?" Amosta looked at him with amusement.

“I remember casting some protective spells on myself, spells that could prevent me from being targeted or by some inexplicable curses. Miss Clona, ​​you are lying.”

"Divination and sacrifice—"

Vitia no longer possessed that calm, unchanging expression; her lowered eyes revealed a hint of dejection and sorrow.

“You are a powerful wizard, Mr. Blaine. A respected elder sacrificed his life to find out the true identity of the ‘Golden Viper’.”

"It's truly touching."

Amosta chuckled, but his eyes were incredibly sinister.

"What is the reason, Miss Clona? If I'm not mistaken, I don't remember having any grudges with the Druids, so that the esteemed 'Priestess' who inherited the name 'Clona' would go so far as to approach me in this way?"

“We need your help, Mr. Blaine.”

Vitia raised her head, her eyes, as pure as emerald starlight, fixed on Amosta. Seemingly oblivious to the chill emanating from him, she spoke in a sincere voice.

"Since you've heard of us, you must know about our feud with the Vatican, Mr. Blaine. For centuries, we've wandered through many countries in Europe and America, hoping to find a safe haven, but those priests who use faith as a pretext to commit evil have never stopped slaughtering us—"

"What does this have to do with me?"

Amosta continued with a cold laugh.

"You don't mean you want me to lead you into the Vatican and kill the Pope?"

"In that case, I do have a powerful friend I can recommend. Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is an even more powerful old man than I am. He's of high status and kind-hearted; he might take pity on your pitiful situation and be willing to help you."

Vitia clearly didn't take Amosta's sarcastic remarks seriously. Burdened with heavy historical responsibilities and possessing a calm and unwavering heart, she was no longer easily swayed.

“We do not wish for any innocent people to be implicated in our fierce ideological conflict with the Papacy, Mr. Blaine. For centuries, we have protected our beliefs with our own strength, and even in our weakened state, we have never considered relying on the power of wizards. But…”

Amosta had no interest in listening to this endless history, and he interrupted Vitia abruptly.

"Your purpose, and the reason you came to me, High Priest, that's what I want to hear."

“We want to open the ruins of Merlin, Mr. Blaine. There, a legendary artifact that originally belonged to the Druids is preserved. With its power, perhaps we can have a peaceful place to live.”

"Merlin's ruins?"

Amosta narrowed his eyes and asked uncertainly,

"You want to open the Black Stone Tower built by Merlin in the underground world of Knockturn Alley?"

Before Vitia could give a clear answer, Amosta suddenly frowned, as if remembering something.

“I received some warnings. Someone told me that earlier this year, a group of people who had never appeared before showed up in the underworld. They issued a commission to explore magical ruins, but it came to nothing. After that, they started inquiring about my identity—”

"This must be a message from Mr. Cacus Foley—"

Vitia smiled slightly and said, "We've only ever posted commissions with him, and we've also noticed that he seems very interested in our background."

This is a formidable woman—that thought arose in Amosta's mind, both in terms of strength and intelligence.

As the conversation continued, Amosta felt less angry than before, but he still didn't like the priestess who had gone to such lengths to get close to him. He was just annoyed that he was being entangled with such a person.

"We don't know what exactly exists inside that mysterious black tower in the underworld, but Merlin's final resting place isn't there, Mr. Blaine—"

Vitia raised her right hand, and the pale blue bracelet on her slender wrist emitted a dazzling light before transforming into a staff formed by two thick grapevines intertwined. Amosta could clearly sense the powerful magic and life force emanating from this strangely shaped staff.

Vitia raised her staff and, using the void as a backdrop, sketched something. A moment later, a pristine white scroll unfolded in the void.

The scene, resembling a television screen, depicts an elderly priestess with eyes and hair exactly the same color as Vitia's. She is situated in a primeval forest unlike anything Amosta has ever seen. The old priestess stands on a greyish-white altar, holding aloft the staff that Vitia once held.

As the ancient and mysterious chants echoed through the jungle, the dark green branches and leaves of the ancient trees around the altar burst forth with green fluorescence, and black mist rose from the earth. The faint light and mist seemed to be drawn from all directions to the old priest, converging into a blurry light and shadow.

As the outline of light and shadow gradually became clear, a golden serpent appeared in the untouched primeval forest. The old priest on the altar suddenly turned pale, coughed up blood, and died.

Upon seeing the strange snake, Amosta's eyes lit up with realization; he finally understood how he had been targeted.

P.S.: Just to clarify, this book will not depict the Vatican in any way; writing about this in a Harry Potter fanfic would be a bit of a departure from the original story.

Chapter 109 Decision

“We have received a revelation from the earth and the gods we worship: the wizard who carries this serpent will be able to help us retrieve the sacred artifact belonging to the Druids from Merlin’s eternal resting place.”

At first, we went in the wrong direction and spent months without any results. After much trouble, through ordinary divination and investigation, we finally figured out that it seemed to be the underworld of London's upturned alleyways, a wizard's identifying mark—"

Vitia spoke eloquently, while Amosta frowned, pondering why the druidic priests' divination would arrive at such a result, since he had never had any dealings with these people in any way.

In fact, wizards are a relatively conservative and xenophobic group. Even wizards of impure blood face rejection in the European magical world, let alone the Druid sect, which has parted ways with the mystical school for so many years.

"We dared not search for you openly in the underworld, for fear that it might bring you trouble. Just when we finally figured out whose mark this snake was, you suddenly disappeared from the underworld."

Amosta remained silent. If Dumbledore hadn't tricked him into returning to Hogwarts, he would probably have met these people months earlier.

"Left with no other choice, my teacher, the former priestess of the church, had to seek help from the gods once again, and this time, at the cost of her life, she finally received clear instructions—Amosta Blaine."

We know your name, but at that time you were teaching at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the most powerful wizard of the contemporary wizarding world was, Albus Dumbledore. If possible, we would not want to deal with this wizard's banner, because if the news leaked out, it might cause some misunderstanding among our enemies.

We watched you from the shadows, and when you left Hogwarts, the question of how to get closer to you became a topic of discussion among us.

Some partners believe they should directly approach you to explain the situation and ask for your help.

Some believe that by keeping the whole truth hidden and continuing to post commissions in the underworld with rewards, they will eventually lure you in—

Under the bright moonlight and a gentle breeze, Amosta gradually calmed his tense demeanor. He gazed at the priestess, whose origins and 'true purpose' remained shrouded in mystery, as if shrouded in mist, and weighed his options in his mind.

"But I would prefer to show you some goodwill before we formally negotiate, so that you might agree to let my companions leave the UK for other countries. Based on the information I obtained from previous investigations, I found this orphanage and became a volunteer there."

snort.

Amosta snorted coldly, his tone indifferent.

"On the contrary, I think the approach proposed by your companions was much wiser."

That's roughly the gist of it, but there are some things Amosta still doesn't understand.

"For over a thousand years, countless wizards and even Muggles have been searching for Merlin's resting place, but apart from that impenetrable black stone tower in the underworld, no one has found any valuable clues. How can you be sure that the ruins you discovered are related to Merlin? Don't tell me it's divination again?"

Vitia remained silent, and Amosta knew that her question likely touched upon a core secret of the Druid cult.

"What exactly is inside Merlin's ruins, or rather, what do you hope to obtain from them?"

The ethereal Vitia showed an apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Blaine, I cannot answer your question at the moment, but you will know when you are willing to accept the commission to enter the ruins.”

Amosta gave an indifferent smirk. Although Vitia was unwilling to say anything, at least she hadn't chosen to lie.

“You should be glad you didn’t do too much unnecessary work during your time at the orphanage, Miss Clona,” Amosta said calmly. “Otherwise, the Druids might have had to find a new priestess again.”

You mean—

“What can you offer me, Miss Clona? I don’t know the connection between the ruins you speak of and Merlin, nor what dangers lurk within them, but I know this commission is of immense value, perhaps beyond what Galleons can measure. Miss Clona, ​​what kind of reward can you offer me?”

When Amosta returned to the orphanage alone, the moon had already risen to the other side of the house. Smelling the faint fragrance of flowers in the quiet air, Amosta stood quietly in the courtyard for a while. When his mind was calm, he took soft steps and pushed open the door to enter the hall.

Did you kiss?

As we passed the third floor, a quirky voice echoed from the dark corridor.

"Go to sleep now, Hammer, just think of it for your butt's sake!"

Amosta didn't stop for a moment. He said something irritatingly and went to a room prepared for him on the sixth floor. He washed up quickly in the dark, let out a sigh of relief, and lay down on the soft mattress.

Although his body had relaxed, his thoughts were still churning like waves in a storm. Tonight, his understanding of the mysterious and unpredictable world of magic had deepened once again.

The Druids, who appeared out of nowhere, used a few divination techniques that Amosta had never paid attention to before to find out his identity and background clearly. Although Vitia said that they paid a huge price, in Amosta's eyes, that price was not worth mentioning.

The biggest problem remains the result of the divination performed by the previous priestess of the Druid sect.

This mysterious and ancient sect has a long history, and their conflicts with the orthodox papacy have even been mentioned in Muggle storybooks. Amosta believes that if they were truly so eager to obtain that legendary magical artifact, then such divinations would have been held regularly for many centuries, but they have never received any revelation.

Considering the 'huge price' mentioned by Vitia, Amosta believes that each generation of druid priests may have performed such divination in the final moments of their lives.

But why did I have to get myself involved?

In the quiet darkness, Amosta's brow furrowed once more.

He first heard of the Druid order and the equally ancient surname 'Criona' many years ago on the Hogwarts Express, from a picture card in a Chocolate Frog he bought from the witch who sold 'peanuts, melon seeds, and mineral water'. Later, in his fourth year, Professor Binns mentioned it briefly when he was talking about the conflicts between wizards, Muggles, and the Papacy in the Middle Ages. When he was doing his homework, out of curiosity, he went to the library to look up some popular science materials.

But unexpectedly, many years later, he actually came into contact with a 'Clona'!

After recalling his memories of the past twenty years, Amosta was certain that he had never been involved with them. However, he also believed that there must be a deeper secret behind the divination, which he was unaware of at the moment.

Amosta could tell that there were basically no lies in what Vitia Kriona had just told him, but there were still some things worth pondering.