Homecoming from Hogwarts

On a midsummer night, even the moonlight shining through the window into the principal's office was warm.

Dumbledore's blue eyes behind the half-moon frame moved downward, examining Amosta for a few seconds, then smiled bitterly.
"You don't know my old friend, Amosta. Unfortunately, he is not the kind of wizard who would accept threats. Moreover, I think after Tom, he should be wary of a talented young wizard like you."

Seeing that Amosta's eyes did not waver, Dumbledore added,
"Horace has mastered advanced Occlumency techniques. Legilimency won't work on him. From the fact that he was able to teach a wizard like Severus who is proficient in potions, you can tell that Veritaserum might not work on him either."

Amosta shrugged. If Dumbledore insisted on not endangering the personal safety of his old friend, then some methods would not be applicable. However, contact was still necessary.

"I once heard from Dirk Cresswell, the head of the Goblin Liaison Office under the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, that he is Professor Slughorn's favorite student. Dirk, who was born in Slytherin, trusts me very much. Perhaps I can communicate with Professor Slughorn through this channel."

"As long as you don't intend to use magic to pry open Horace's mind, Amosta, I have no objection to you trying. Perhaps you can really find common topics with him."

Dumbledore said with a smile, but it was clear that he didn't expect much from it.

With a sigh, Dumbledore stared at the dim candlelight from the chandelier.

"Horace is not willing to provide us with any valuable information for the time being. The most urgent thing to confirm about Tom's Horcrux is the underground vault of Gringotts. Did he give it to one of his Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban like the notebook did? And did the Death Eater give it to the goblin for safekeeping before going to prison?"

"I will confirm this as soon as possible."

Amosta said calmly,

"When the time comes, I'll need your Order of the Phoenix to cooperate with me."

"Oh, that's no problem, but..."

Amosta's confident tone when he said this made Dumbledore move his silver eyebrows in surprise.
"You've got a good idea, haven't you? Can you persuade Banat to let us check those vaults?"

"I will not make such a request to Bana. It is digging at the roots of the goblins."

Amosta said,
"I have another way. I can't use it now, but the time will be ripe soon."

After dealing with Amosta for so long, Dumbledore had some understanding of Amosta's style. His eyes moved.

"I must remind you, Amosta, that we cannot let Tom know that we are searching for his Horcruxes."

There is no need to explain this point, Amosta naturally understands it.

The two left their desks and came to the window of the principal's office, silently gazing at the bright and clean campus illuminated by the moonlight.

"Did you encounter any difficulties in the Triwizard Tournament?"

Dumbledore asked.

"Everything is well arranged and there will be no problems during the competition."

Amosta's voice was filled with a hint of emotion;
"But be prepared, the war will begin after this game is over."

Whoops!

Suddenly, a strong wind blew in the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore said nothing but just looked into the distance. His silver beard swayed in the wind, and his old face looked even more decadent in the moonlight.

The moonlight climbed over mountains and waded through water, and thousands of miles away, it climbed to the top of the tower of a castle standing on a cliff, and quietly slipped into the simple room through the window.

The gray-haired old man who had fallen asleep on the bed seemed to sense something and suddenly opened his eyes.

His eyes, covered with a layer of white film, stared blankly at the ripples formed by the moonlight pouring down on the rock wall, and he slowly rose from a lying position.

Barefoot, stepping on the cold stone floor, the old man came to the window and looked out expressionlessly at the boring scenery that remained the same regardless of spring, summer, autumn or winter.

In the summer, the snow covering the earth is melting rapidly. The mountains that were covered by snow for most of the year are finally exposed with their black, angular and hideous shapes.

After staring in silence for a long time, the old man withdrew his gaze and turned his eyes towards the bed, fixing his gaze on an exquisite, classical pocket watch next to the pillow.

His pale lips moved slightly, and the old man walked over and picked up the pocket watch from the bedside.

Opening the watch cover, the old man stared at a photo behind it.

The photo showed an old man and a little girl. His eyes were not fixed on the old man's face in the photo, but on the little girl.

Although she was at an innocent and lively age, the smile of the little girl revealed a hint of deliberateness and alienation.

Gazing at the little girl, the old man's face, with wrinkles crisscrossing like old tree bark, showed a subtle change in expression.

Time slipped away quietly in the cold, dry wind. The moonlight shining into the room gradually faded away as the moon climbed higher into the night sky, and the room slowly slid into the abyss-like darkness.

Click——
After the head portrait in the photo was also submerged in darkness, the old man closed the hood and then slowly climbed onto the bed. When the last ray of moonlight left the room, the old man lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. The white film covering his eyes seemed to be blown away by the wind and a ray of silver light flashed in the center of his pupils.
The next morning, Harry, Hermione and Ron got up and ran to Hagrid's hut. They were surprised to find that the long boundary between the Forbidden Forest and the field was blocked by ropes. Hagrid was not in his cabin, and even Fang was not sleeping in front of the door.

"what happened?"

The three people who went around the back of the house stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, looking at the "No Trespassing" signs tied to the tree trunks at intervals, and Harry asked in astonishment.

"Is there anything else to say?"

Hermione swallowed and said in a tight voice,

"Professor Brain has sealed off the Forbidden Forest. No one is allowed to enter. They are probably preparing for the competition. Hagrid is not at home. He is probably helping out in the Forbidden Forest."

"But if he plans to use this"

Ron pouted and reached out to touch the rope.
A scream pierced the silence of the Forbidden Forest. The sound sounded like the dying sound of Karkaroff who was tortured with the Cruciatus Curse by many Death Eaters at the same time. The three people standing by the Forbidden Forest covered their ears at the same time, their faces unable to hide the pain!
"What the hell is that noise, Hermione?"

Ron stumbled back.

"It sounds like Percy is singing!"

"Oh, I don't know, but I guess."

Hermione screamed.

"Maybe it's the Howling Spell, a kind of magic used for warning!"

There was nothing to say. The three of them fled in a panic and ran towards the field. The magical thing was that when they ran past Hagrid's Hut and left the border of the Forbidden Forest for a certain distance, the sound that tormented their ears suddenly disappeared, and the gentle wind and the pleasant sound of waves entered their ears again.

"They didn't hear it!"

Harry was gasping for breath, and suddenly he saw a group of little wizards still flying around on their broomsticks on the lawn, laughing and playing, not at all affected by the terrible noise just now. Harry raised his waist in astonishment.

"obviously,"

Hermione's face was pale, and she was so disturbed by the noise that she even retched twice.

"The noise is only within a certain range. Maybe it's specifically targeting people who illegally enter the forbidden forest."

The three of them looked at each other for a few seconds, and then suddenly laughed.

"Oh, I'm so glad Professor Brain doesn't usually use this trick."

Harry shrugged and said,

"Otherwise, Hogwarts would lose a lot of fun."

"If that's the case--"

Ron wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

"Fred and George might protest by dropping out of school."

"From the current situation, Hagrid may have been forced to sign a confidentiality agreement. I hope to get some weird ideas out of him."

Hermione smiled happily.

"It seems that the third project does not test intelligence gathering, but rather the ability to respond to emergencies."

"That's not good news to me."

Ron's words, spoken with a bitter face, caused two more hearty laughs in the playground in broad daylight.

The sun rises and sets, and the moon waxes and wanes.

The final exams of the school year were in full swing. It seemed that overnight, a huge viewing platform had "grown" on the Hogwarts playground, and four iron poles as tall as Quidditch sticks but much thicker were erected on the border of the Forbidden Forest. Each iron pole was topped with a huge screen.

Near the four iron poles, there is a spacious, enclosed tent. The fairies have already moved in and started debugging the live broadcast equipment.

At dawn, the first ray of light in the morning illuminated the dark dormitory, and Hermione suddenly opened her eyes in bed.

The final of the Triwizard Tournament has begun.

(End of this chapter)