The Return to Hogwarts

Amosta's eyes darted around, instinctively searching for the source of the sound, but apart from the door behind him, he couldn't find any human-made objects in this boundless space.

Suddenly, Amosta seemed to sense something. He looked down and realized that he was not standing on solid ground, but on a boundless lake, as calm as a mirror.

Amosta frowned. He lifted his toes and touched the water's surface, creating ripples that reflected his image perfectly. But within a few breaths, the ripples returned to normal. He continued to press his toes against the water, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break through the surface.

This was truly a wondrous thing. He could stand steadily on the lake without using any magic, and this alone made him realize the extraordinary nature of this ruin.

Amosta lowered his head and quietly examined the lake at his feet, trying to see through its mysteries. But suddenly his expression changed subtly. What caused this reaction was not the mirror-like surface of the lake, but his own reflection in it.

No color?!

Amostella's gaze suddenly shifted to her right hand, which was gripping the wand tightly, and upon seeing that, her brows furrowed even more.

This was neither an illusion nor a delusion. The reflection on the water was a true reflection. I had indeed lost my color. My old wizard robe, my fair hands, and my black wand had all turned into a lifeless gray. It was as if some mysterious and powerful force had stripped everything of its color!

Instantly, the vortex in Amosta's eyes began to spin wildly, and powerful and sharp magic surged from his thin body. The hurricane formed by the magic disrupted the reflection in the lake, but it did not cause the slightest change to this secret realm that had been silent and dormant for countless years!

However, Amosta, who had pushed her magical perception to its limit, still made some discoveries.

He randomly chose a direction and walked for a while, then stopped, his expression turning serious.

"That's right. Time in this secret realm is being disrupted by some kind of evil magic; the flow is not uniform, but rather subject to very subtle changes."

After a low murmur of contemplation, Amosta gazed at the empty world with tightly pursed lips.

Vitia had said outside that she would be waiting for him at the temple in the center of the island, but there was clearly nothing there—no island, and no temple in sight.

"Aha, finally in!"

Just as Amosta was deep in thought, a sudden, hearty laugh came from somewhere in front of him, making Amosta's hair stand on end and his face show astonishment.

Someone followed me into the secret realm?! How is that possible?!

Amosta, suppressing his shock, stared intently and discovered that twenty feet above the lake, the previously calm space suddenly distorted. Then, a pair of strong, powerful hands reached out from the distorted space, seemingly trying to break through some kind of obstacle. The strong arms struggled continuously, and the body squeezed in little by little!

To be honest, Amosta has experienced quite a few strange and unusual things over the years, but what he is experiencing now is more bizarre than any of them. He even forgot to be vigilant and just stared blankly at the figure in mid-air that was gradually becoming complete.

Boom!

Unlike the crisp sound of Amosta landing on the lake, the booming sound of the muscular figure falling from mid-air to the ground as his feet struck the lake was awe-inspiring. In fact, the lake surface, which Amosta couldn't damage, was directly 'bent' by that person, just like a massive celestial body distorting space with its immense gravity!

"How...how could this be? It's too absurd!"

Amosta stared blankly and ridiculously at the profile of the middle-aged wizard fifty feet away, dressed in an antique-style wizard's robe, with shoulder-length fiery red hair, who seemed unaffected by the mysterious power within the space. He let out a low growl of disbelief.

Amosta knew this powerful wizard. He had seen him in many magic books, biographies, and paintings. Moreover, not only him, but probably no wizard in the world was unfamiliar with this man!

"Godric Gryffindor???"

Chapter 114 Gryffindor

Amosta knew his expression must look ridiculous, but he just couldn't close his mouth, which was agape in shock. He stared at the fiery-haired middle-aged man, who was enveloped in an aura of dominance, and kept rubbing his eyes, thinking he was hallucinating!

"How could that be?"

Amostah continued to mutter, racking his brains to understand the absurd scene he was witnessing. However, apart from the possibility that he was under illusion magic, he could not think of any reasonable explanation to resolve his shock and confusion.

Indeed, he sensed the abnormal flow of time throughout the space, but that did not mean that Godric Gryffindor appearing alive in front of him was normal!

That was one of the four founding wizards of Hogwarts, a great wizard from a thousand years ago who was almost deified. Even a thousand years later, his thoughts and ideas still have a profound impact on the wizarding world.

What kind of power could allow Godric Gryffindor to stand before him across a thousand years?

A time converter? The thought flashed through Amosta's mind, but he dismissed it in less than a thousandth of a second.

What a joke! A powerful wizard like Gryffindor is beyond the reach of any Time-Turner, whose magical power is as unfathomable as the ocean. Not to mention Gryffindor, even if Dumbledore or Amos Tower himself combined the power of all the Time-Turners in the wizarding world, they probably wouldn't be able to turn back time by even a single day!

Furthermore, the past is predetermined, but the future holds countless possibilities. The power of the time converter can only cut into the cracks of time and bring people back to the past, but it is impossible for people to travel to the future, especially a thousand years!

Even the mysterious and incredibly powerful ancient magic couldn't possibly do that!

"who are you!"

As dawn broke, beads of cold sweat, like dew clinging to green leaves, appeared on Amosta's forehead. He was breathing heavily, banishing all thoughts of 'Merlin's Ruins,' Vitia Kriona, and prophecies from his mind. His brown pupils contracted to their limit as he stared intently at the man not far from him!

The man who suddenly appeared seemed completely unaware of Amosta Blaine behind him. He looked around and at his feet with interest, simply standing there, but the entire ruins seemed to be on guard against him.

His fiery red hair, the sword scars on his broad face, his knightly physique, and the fact that he carried no wand but instead a finely crafted mithril rapier at his waist—all these details unmistakably identified him as Godric Gryffindor.

Wait for that sword.

Amosta's body trembled violently for a moment, his eyes showing astonishment.

The sword that this man is carrying at his waist is not the Gryffindor sword!

Months ago, in the Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin, Amosta had witnessed Potter fight the Basilisk with the legendary sword. It was a gleaming silver sword with a hilt inlaid with a dazzling egg-sized ruby, and its overall design had a strong goblin-like style.

The mysterious man in front of them was indeed carrying a silver sword at his waist, but the hilt was completely undecorated, and the style of the sword was very simple. Compared to the exquisite sword in Potter's hand, which resembled a work of art, this sword was more suited to actual combat.

Amostah's lips tightened, and the horror in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a sinister look.

Could it be that this man simply resembles Gryffindor and is also a deep admirer of Gryffindor, which is why he deliberately dressed like this?

This explanation is much more reasonable and easier to accept than Gryffindor himself traveling through a thousand years to the modern era. However, Amosta still dared not let his guard down. Although he could not sense the magic in the man's body, he was intimidated by the strong sense of danger emanating from him. Even Albus Dumbledore could not achieve this level of intimidation.

He wanted to ask the man's identity again, but before he could speak, the man's muttered words had already answered Amosta's doubts and once again broken down his mental defenses.

Without warning, the red-haired man who was examining the man in front of him suddenly looked up at the cloudless, crystal-clear gray sky above, and then grinned again.

"Found you! Ha, it seems that the broken pillar Rowena found and Helga's prophecy were both correct!"

Rowena and Helga.

Amost can no longer deceive himself; this person really is Godric Gryffindor!

But this brings us back to the original question: how exactly did Gryffindor manage to do that?

"Mr. Gryffindor, you are..."

Amosta's voice was hoarse as she spoke with great difficulty, but the red-haired man ignored her and instead drew his silver sword from his waist.

Under Amosta's suddenly alert gaze, he waved his hand and summoned a lion that was half again as large as normal, with eyes like rubies and a mane as red as flames. Then, with a nimble leap, he directly straddled the back of the majestic lion.

This relaxed and natural scene overturned a preconceived notion in Amosta's mind.

He wasn't surprised that Gryffindor could use a silver sword as a wand. Mithril is a magical metal with excellent magical conductivity, but it has gradually been phased out because of its scarcity, high price, and lower compatibility with modern spells compared to wooden wands.

Amostella wasn't surprised that Gryffindor's Patronus was a magical creature.

This has been mentioned sporadically in many historical books. While magical creatures as Patronus are extremely rare, they are not unique. For example, Dumbledore's silver phoenix and his own Patronus are both magical creatures.

Amosta was astonished to learn how Gryffindor had managed to ride on his Patronus.

As the only spell that can effectively suppress Dementors, the Patronus Charm is known to be a very profound white spell. The core of this spell is not simply magic power, but a product of the harmony between magic power and the positive power within the wizard's heart.

Of course, the role of the Guardian is not limited to dealing with Dementors; with the right spellcasting techniques, it can also act as a messenger.

But what if you treat your guardian deity as a mount?

Amosta couldn't understand it. The Guardian God was a magical creation, not a physical entity.

As a wizard whose magical talent was so exceptional that Dumbledore called him one of a kind, and whose magical perception was outstanding, Amosta could understand the general principles of most spells at a glance. However, he had to admit that he had no idea how Gryffindor's Patronus was summoned, just as he could not sense the magical power within Gryffindor's body.

Godric Gryffindor wouldn't be kind enough to explain the principles of his magic. In fact, he didn't even glance at Amosta from beginning to end, as if he didn't exist at all. He tilted his broad, square face up, his two bright eyes fixed on the sky. With a leap, the guardian spirit beneath him carried him directly up into the boundless sky.

Amosta's gaze shifted, and suddenly, his eyes narrowed as he made a new discovery.

Under the gray sky, at the farthest point of the horizon, there is a very inconspicuous little black dot. If it were in the outside world, you would just think of it as a Muggle airplane or a bird, but in this empty ruin, it certainly seems unusual.

"Avalon Island...it's actually in the sky!"

Amostah squeezed out a sentence through gritted teeth, but he didn't have the energy to deal with it for the time being. Gazing at the fiery red lion that was rapidly shrinking in his field of vision, Amostah took a deep breath. The next second, he leaped into the air and transformed into a shadow, soaring into the sky as well!

Chapter 115 Confusing

call--

In the gray, desolate world, two figures, one red and one gray, swiftly traversed the high sky, like two shooting stars 'falling' from the earth into the heavens.

"Mr. Gryffindor!"

Amosta's loud shouts drowned out the whistling wind in his ears, but the red-haired man seemed oblivious, his eyes fixed only on the island floating in the sky.

Amostella shut his mouth. The cool, sharp breeze helped him to slightly detach himself from the absurdity of Godric Gryffindor appearing alive before him, and his mind finally began to work again.

Gryffindor isn't deaf and blind. There was a grown man right next to him, and he had yelled at him several times. How could Gryffindor not even glance at him? Even if he was as weak as a slug in Gryffindor's eyes, he shouldn't be so blatantly ignored.

What exactly was Gryffindor's state of being? Did they really exist?

Amosta quickly ran out of energy to think about the problem. When he flew past a certain boundary, Amosta's expression suddenly changed, and he almost transformed back into human form from his shadowy state.

The thick, viscous magic of death and decay made the space viscous. Amosta felt like a stunt diver who had suddenly plunged into the water from a great height. The nauseating yet irresistible magic prevented him from fainting.

At this moment, Gryffindor, who was riding leisurely on the lion patron, also became slightly serious. He raised his silver sword again and slashed at the void in his direction of progress one after another.

There were no flashes of dazzling magic, but with his slash, the extremely dark space became much clearer, like a crack being cut through the turbidity floating on the water, revealing a much clearer lake surface. Behind him, Amostella, who was already feeling suffocated, let out a heavy breath. He dared not be careless and followed closely behind the 'clean' lake surface that Gryffindor had cut through.

That's so strange, isn't it?

Amosta didn't have a deep understanding of the Druids, but he at least knew that the sect revered nature, and he could feel a natural freshness and a vibrant magic emanating from Vitia.