The Return to Hogwarts

When Amosta stepped off the Muggle bus—Amosta didn't choose to take the Knight Bus, which he had done once before and nearly vomited bile from, and ever since then he had been traumatized by the thing that Dugold McPhell had 'spurred' on.

He couldn't Apparate either, because Amosta had never been to Godric's Valley before. Floo Network was an acceptable way for Amosta to travel long distances, but unfortunately, he didn't know anyone here, and there were no public fireplaces in Godric's Valley.

After considering various modes of transportation, Amosta decided to take the Hogwarts Express back to London and use Muggle methods to reach the peaceful village in the southwest frontier.

The moment Amosta stepped into this village steeped in legendary history, and his gaze swept over the clean, tidy streets and the neat houses lining them, he ruled out Godric's Hollow from his list of future settlement options. The reason was simple: the proportion of Muggle villagers living here was much higher than he had imagined. If he were to settle here, he might as well just buy a house on the outskirts of London.

Amosta, dressed in Muggle attire, walked forward and, after a few minutes, saw the war memorial standing in the center square of the village.

When Amosta stood beneath the tall, solemn obelisk, sensing the wizard's approach, the obelisk changed, silently transforming into a statue of three people.

The Potters, along with the infant Harry Potter, stood silently before the statue for a moment, then shook their heads slightly and sighed softly.

"war--"

There are some places worth visiting in this village, but Amosta didn't waste his time there; he had a purpose in coming here.

After finding out the exact location of Potter's old house from a local wizard, Amosta quickened his pace toward his destination. Five minutes later, after passing a row of houses and several shops, Amosta stood at the end of this journey.

This is a two-story building painted pure white. The right wall of the top-floor room has been completely blown open, and through the hole, Amosta can see that the bedroom is filled with rubble and dust.

In front of the building is a small courtyard overgrown with weeds. Because no one takes care of it, the fence surrounding the overgrown courtyard is now a mess, and even the entrance gate is covered with vines.

Will you return here to pay respects to your former master and to see the fate of your once dearest friend?

Amosta murmured, gazing at the dilapidated building.

Pushing aside the green vines blocking his path, the moment he stepped into the courtyard, he sensed traces of magic in the air. Carefully sensing the fluctuations of magic, Amosta realized that the Ministry of Magic had cast some kind of exorcism spell around the house, presumably to protect it from Muggles and homeless wild animals.

The tall grass and nettles in the yard bore many signs of being trampled. On the soft ground, various footprints overlapped. Amosta squatted down and studied them for a while. After thinking for a moment, he roughly made an accurate judgment.

He walked toward the house, the once warm but now dilapidated home, climbed the steps, and stood before the rusty iron gate.

Out of respect, those who came to pay their respects to the Potters should not have broken into the house. What led Amosta to this assumption was the doorknob on the iron gate that was completely rusted shut.

Amostella didn't immediately rush into the room. Instead, she turned her head to look a few steps to the right of the stairs she was standing on. There, under a broken window, in a small patch of wasteland, Amostella 'saw' a distorted, condensed mass of magic. This phenomenon indicated that magic existed in that wasteland.

Following a magical thread drawn from the twisted magic, Amostah's gaze returned to the rusted doorknob. After a moment's thought, he slid his hand across his jeans pocket, and an ebony wand appeared in his palm.

dong dong——

Amostella tapped the doorknob with her wand, and the wasteland beneath the window instantly changed.

Like some strange, rapidly growing flower, a huge wooden sign emerged from the soil, followed by a white marble flower stand.

The large flower stand was filled with flowers brought by various shamans who came to pay their respects, almost completely obscuring the wooden plaque with gold lettering.

December 31 2025

Lily and James Potter sacrificed themselves here.

Their son, Harry, is the only wizard to survive the Killing Curse.

This house, invisible to Muggles, was preserved exactly as it was.

This ruin is dedicated to the Potters.

It also serves as a warning against the violence that has led to the destruction of their families.

Amusta's gaze swept over the neat handwriting, reading the rumors written in various messy styles on the sign, and a smile unconsciously appeared on his lips.

"Porter has always lived with his aunt and has probably never returned to the place where he was born. I wonder what he would think if he saw these blessings."

A gentle breeze brushed his cheek, lifting a few strands of gray hair that covered his forehead. Amosta lowered his eyelids, his smile faded, and his gaze deepened.

"The fate of being destined to be a hero is a very heavy one, Potter. I wonder if you can bear it—"

In the first half of the year, Amosta spent more than three months at Hogwarts, a period that, while not too long, allowed him to see through some things.

On the surface, Dumbledore didn't seem to care much for Potter, but Amosta could sense that this scheming old wizard cared for Harry far more than the other young wizards at the school.

On the night the Chamber of Secrets was resolved, as Harry and Dumbledore prepared to explore the passageway in the Slytherin statue, a disagreement arose between them regarding Harry's decision to stay or leave.

Dumbledore almost instinctively refused to let Harry participate in potentially dangerous explorations, while Amosta believed that young people needed more opportunities to grow. But did Dumbledore, who had already lived to that age, not understand this simple truth?

Dumbledore understood this, of course, but his concern for Harry caused him to lose the ruthlessness expected of a leader.

If he continues to raise Harry with this attitude, hoping that he can shoulder the responsibility of eliminating Voldemort in the future, to be honest, Amosta is not optimistic about this kind of education.

It was precisely because of this skepticism that he agreed to Harry's request to visit the Underworld some time ago during the summer vacation. His purpose was to let Harry, who had been well protected by Dumbledore, see the dark side of the wizarding world and temper his mind.

It's not that Amosta intentionally interfered with Harry's growth, but rather that he wanted to increase Harry's chances of winning, if defeating Voldemort was truly the mission imposed on Harry Potter by this world.

After all, a relatively stable and orderly magical world is what he also seeks.

Chapter 161 Flowers and Tears

"I apologize for my intrusion, but after all, this is for your child, Harry Potter—"

Amosta, standing at the door, bowed his head in greeting to the room. Although he was completely unaware of the existence of the wizarding world when the Potters were murdered, this did not diminish his respect for these wizards who possessed lofty beliefs and an unwavering determination to fight against evil, even at the cost of their lives.

Amosta removed the entire iron gate and gently placed it in the yard. The gate was completely rusted shut, not only the bolt hidden behind it but also the hinges connecting it to the frame.

The scene behind the door was exactly as Amosta had imagined. The foyer, dining room, living room, and all the furnishings within sight were covered with a thick layer of white ash. The dim interior and the silent air were filled with the putrid smell of decay caused by the ravages of time.

The floor inside the house was made of wood, and because of the dust on the surface, its original color was no longer visible. However, the traces of corrosion and insect infestation on the floor were very clear. Amosta even suspected that if he stepped on it, it might cause the house to collapse in a chain reaction.

After thinking for a moment, Amosta waved his wand, levitating himself and slowly moving his body forward.

Everything in sight was gray and dull, with no valuable clues to be seen. Amostah only stayed in the restaurant for a short while, squinting at the furnishings that had been shattered by the duel years ago.

One side in the duel was James Potter, and the other was Voldemort.

The damage caused by the duel wasn't too great. Amosta stared at the several blackened holes in the wall and the radially damaged floor, instinctively recreating the scene of the duel in his mind.

"--A duel between vastly different levels. James Potter probably unleashed two or three spells, but they were deflected by Voldemort's shield, bouncing off the floor and walls. Strange."

Amosta muttered to himself.

"Even if James Potter and Lupin were roughly equal in skill, in that situation, his hysterical spell should have caused even greater damage to the room. But oh, I see, Voldemort must have been filled with murderous intent at the time. The powerful and evil magic he released made the magic in that area extremely unstable. An ordinary wizard probably wouldn't even be able to cast a levitation charm in that situation."

In duels between wizards below the rank of 'Saint', many factors can determine the outcome, such as dueling skills, the power and versatility of the spells mastered, and even luck can play a crucial role.

However, as your strength approaches that limit, individual magic becomes increasingly crucial, and the effectiveness of spells diminishes. This is because for a wizard at this level, any offensive spell can kill an opponent. For example, Amosta himself could easily turn a stun spell into a fatal one if he wanted to.

Therefore, it is ridiculous to think that you can defeat a wizard like Albus Dumbledore by sheer numbers and surprise attacks.

"It's not impossible to interfere with the environment purely through magic and thought, preventing wizards within a certain area from even using normal standard spells, but its deterrent effect outweighs its practical significance."

After briefly considering Voldemort's strength in his mind, Amosta's expression turned slightly serious. With his current abilities, fighting a short, high-intensity duel with Dumbledore or Voldemort wouldn't be a problem. In fact, due to the physical advantage brought by his age, he might not necessarily be at a disadvantage. However, if he couldn't escape immediately after the battle, it would be a very passive situation for him, because he had indeed not yet reached that 'limit'.

Amosta carefully examined the first floor of the house, but the result was somewhat disappointing, because he found nothing amiss. Judging from the traces, no one had entered the house in more than a decade.

Having confirmed this, Amosta's gaze fell upon the crumbling staircase, and like a ghost, he silently floated up it.

The second floor of the old house has a total of three bedrooms and a bathroom. Two of the bedrooms have their doors tightly closed, and judging from the rusted doors, no one has broken in.

Only one bedroom door was open; that was the room Amosta had seen from outside the house, where about half of the wall had been destroyed.

After a brief silence, Amosta moved to the other room. In the quiet room, Amosta's heartbeat quickened noticeably. He was a little nervous. If he couldn't find anything unusual in that room either, then his trip would undoubtedly end in failure.

Because the room was exposed to the outside, the bright bedroom and the dark building created a stark contrast of light and shadow. Before stepping into the wispy clusters of light, Amostah's breathing became shallower. The next second, he floated forward two feet and then turned around.

The moment Amosta's view of the room filled with rubble and tiles came into complete sight, his slightly shrugged shoulders relaxed, and an uncontrollable smile appeared on his lips.

"You still slipped up a bit, didn't you—"

Inside the dilapidated room, a five-foot-high pile of rubble lay on a collapsed bed. Exposed to the elements, the rest of the room's furnishings had rotted away, except for a broken picture frame that had fallen from the wall and remained relatively intact near the head of the bed.

What pleased Amosta was not the faded, blurry photo frame, but a bunch of withered flowers, almost completely dry, placed in front of it, and a series of footprints leading to a large hole in the room.

All the wizards who came to pay their respects to the Potters left their flowers on the wooden plaque and flower stand specially prepared by the Ministry of Magic. However, one person unexpectedly entered the room and placed a bouquet of flowers in front of the Potter family portrait.

"Hiss, something's not right—"

Having finally discovered a clue, Amosta was undoubtedly pleased. He stared at the bunch of white lilies that had turned yellow, but before he could get any closer, a strange feeling suddenly welled up inside him.

"Wasn't Black the traitor who caused the Potters' deaths? Why would he be repenting for his past betrayal? Oh, I see, this is where Voldemort ultimately failed, so he's mourning his master."

Amosta's slightly furrowed brows relaxed, and he was very proud of his cleverness. His gaze swept across the room, lingering on the pile of rubble on the bed for a few seconds. After confirming that there were no traps, he floated into the room and stopped in front of the picture frame.

Because it was exposed to the outdoors, there was much less dust on the floor inside the room than on the first floor, just a thin layer. When his gaze fell on the broken glass covering the blurry photograph, Amosta's brow furrowed unconsciously. He looked up again, surveying everything in the room, and after a while, he even bent down and fiddled with the pebbles on the bed.

"It's very dry; it hasn't rained here recently."

Amosta stared intently at the dust in his palm, which was completely dry.

"So."

He lowered his head, staring at the radiating, dried water droplets scattered across the shards of glass covered with a thin layer of gray, and squinted.

"Having shed tears, that doesn't seem quite right."

Chapter 162 Whose Tears

Did he cry because of Voldemort's defeat?

Thinking that way is a bit far-fetched. Although he did not experience that brutal era of war, Amostella had some understanding of what kind of people those wizards who followed Voldemort and called themselves 'Death Eaters' were, judging from Greyback and his pack of werewolves.

Sirius Black – known as the Dark Lord's top henchman, he betrayed the Potters to serve Voldemort, and even ruthlessly reduced another friend who came to hunt him to ashes.