Homecoming from Hogwarts

The drizzle is still falling.

Crystal clear raindrops hit the overlapping and intertwined dark green broad leaves and then bounced to the next layer. After several twists and turns, only a few drops of water fell to the two people on the ground.

It was already lunchtime. The roar of the little wizards rushing out of the classroom and rushing towards the auditorium was like a tide hitting the reef. It could be heard even in the Forbidden Forest.

"Satisfied, Fromide?"

Amosta put away his wand, put his hands behind his back, and looked calm as he admired the hut he had built. The falling rain automatically slid away when it approached him.

He did not respond to Fromide's words.

Flomid nodded reluctantly.

There were already some furnishings in the cabin, including a bed and a square table made of wooden boards, and a fireplace made of rocks.

"If you need anything else, just tell me and I'll ask the elves in the castle to help prepare it--"

Amosta paced in front of the dim fireplace and spoke casually.

"You know, we don't have very high requirements for the living environment, Mr. Blaine--"

Fromid followed Amosta closely, wanting to say something several times but finally keeping silent.

Mr. Blaine's attitude says it all.

Amosta stopped in front of the window and looked out through the hollow window hole. His eyes penetrated the shadows of the trees and reached the castle covered with a layer of mist.

"At the Quidditch World Cup last August, hundreds of people died in the aftermath of my fight with her—"

Amosta spoke softly, without a ripple of sound, drowning out the sound of swaying branches.

Fromide's eyelids trembled, and his eyes dimmed.

"She released the Death Eater Barty Crouch Jr., who was secretly imprisoned by the former Director of the Department of International Magical Cooperation of the Ministry of Magic, Barty Crouch, and assisted Barty Crouch Jr. in capturing Barty Sr. This act directly led to the death of the former Director of the Department of International Magical Cooperation of the Ministry of Magic -"

Amosta continued calmly.

Fromide, with a mellow face, tightened his lips and clenched his fists.

"She imprisoned the Ministry of Magic's legendary Auror, Alastor Moody, and for a year, pretended to be him as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. She also tampered with the second match of the Triwizard Tournament and sent a group of young wizards who were inexperienced in the world to Voldemort—"

The clouds in the sky grew thicker, and the children's laughter coming from the castle seemed hazy as if through a dream.

There was a struggle in Flomid's eyes and his lips were slightly parted.

Before Frommid could speak, Amosta's voice, which was heavier than a thousand pounds, landed first.
"Voldemort was resurrected with her help, and the British wizarding world fell into war because of her stupid behavior. Frommid--"

Amosta finally turned around, and his heavy gaze almost overwhelmed Flomid.

"Tell me, Frommid, how should she pay for her sins?"

There is no early autumn at Hogwarts.

The chill of late autumn follows the scorching sunshine of the distant summer, leaving no time for people to adapt.

Nothing to say.

In other words, there is no death penalty for wizards in Britain. Otherwise, just based on what Vitia did in the Quidditch World Cup, she would be sent to the gallows.

"We are willing, willing--"

After a long moment of silence, Fromide raised his head and looked at Amosta pleadingly.

"Teaching the wizard the art of druids is not a favor to the wizard, Frommid—" Amosta walked out the door. He walked down a few wooden steps. The withered yellow needles under his footsteps screamed in pain.
"It's the efforts your group has made to avoid extinction. In other words, this is the wizard's favor to you."

"I don't deny it, Mr. Braine. If Miss Cliona really did all this, then she is indeed guilty of a serious crime for wizards. But if she is willing to atone for her sins... In fact, you told me that she was imprisoned by Voldemort."

Fromid had a bitter look on his face, his breathing was slightly disordered, but he still tried to persuade Amosta.

"For wizards?"

Amosta stopped beside a eucalyptus tree that pierced the sky, and for the first time, his voice was filled with strong emotions.
"According to my intelligence, the worst thing she did was to give the Caduceus to Voldemort."

Memories flooded back again.

At the end of the trip to the Lost Island of Avalon, he had a brief contact with the double snake staff for a few minutes. Even when he recalled the awe-inspiring power of the artifact, Amosita couldn't help but feel a palpitation in his heart!
"You're worried about that?"

Fromide opened his eyes wide in astonishment, but after a few seconds, he said decisively,
"That was the artifact held by Queen Morgan le Fay, the last great priestess of our race in ancient times. It will never submit to an evil wizard like Voldemort, Mr. Braine!"

"is it?"

Amosta laughed softly, with a chill in his voice.
"Artifact. Perhaps I see things differently from you, Flomid."

Ignoring Frommid's urgent excuses, Amosta walked towards the castle again.

In fact, Amosta received the message.

Voldemort did attempt to gain control of the Caduceus, but, as Frommid said, he was unsuccessful.

This seemed to be a very normal thing. After all, even Merlin couldn't do anything about it and had to move the staff from the island of Azkaban to the secret realm of Avalon and seal it up to prevent its power from polluting the world.

Gryffindor also tried it a thousand years ago, but it also ended in failure.

Compared with the first two, his and Voldemort's failure seemed inevitable.

However, this did not dispel Amosta's doubts.

It was no coincidence that the staff containing higher-dimensional power fell into Voldemort's hands. Amosita had always had this premonition.

What is involved here is definitely not just Voldemort and the caduceus, there is a deeper conspiracy hidden in it.

Although they were facing the same gloomy sky, both of them narrowed their eyes unconsciously when they walked out of the forbidden forest.

Frommid looked at the castle so close at hand. He had never seen Hogwarts Castle at this distance.

This towering castle, where every brick and stone and every inch of land exuded a heavy historical atmosphere, truly shocked him and made his heart, which was close to nature, sway.

"I'll try--"

Amosta suddenly said something that was unclear and confusing.

Fromide was stunned for a moment, then he woke up with a look of joy. He was about to thank him, but Amosta had already walked away, so he had to hurry to catch up.

On both sides of the grand and tall entrance hall, flames blazing on the ancient stone walls dispelled the chill that flooded into the venue.

Amosta paused slightly and glanced at the people at the Gryffindor table who were passing a small golden glass bottle around.

Fifth grade
Hermione was anxious to get the golden vial back, Ron looked at the vial with a look of hesitation, and Harry also looked at her with a hint of envy.
The three faces with fading childishness were imprinted in Amosta's eyes, making his eyes look extremely deep.

This year it is.
Amosta turned his gaze and thought lightly in his heart.

"Let's go--"

Amosta looked back at Flomid, who was feeling a little uncomfortable due to the many curious looks, and said gently,
"Don't worry too much when you meet your colleagues. Except for some cold faces, they are all very easy to get along with. Of course, be careful of the white-bearded old man sitting in the middle, especially when he smiles at you." (End of this chapter)