Homecoming from Hogwarts

Chapter 215 Chapter 210 The origin of the third dementor
Dumbledore miscalculated Amostar's reaction.

He thought that after he said his guess, Amosta would be anxious, violent, and fall into uncontrollable fear, but in fact, Amosta was unexpectedly calm. Was this calmness the brain? Dumbledore, who has lived for more than a hundred years, thinks he can distinguish the disguise of the Occult Technique.

What has he experienced, what has he concealed, and why can he remain so calm?
Dumbledore was eager to figure these things out.

"Let's discuss one by one, Principal Dumbledore." Amosta rubbed his eyebrows and said a little tiredly.

"certainly--"

Dumbledore said with a smile.

Counting the first half of the year, it has been a long time since Amosta re-entered Hogwarts. His habits have been clearly felt. Dumbledore stood up, popped out the wand in his sleeve and waved it. On the desk, a cup of hot green tea appeared in front of Amosta, while he prepared a cup of honey water for himself,

"Allow me to recommend a very interesting and delicious food to you, Amosta—"

Although both of them knew that the current situation was rather bad, Dumbledore, who had been used to the storms and waves all his life, had already tempered his mentality to be extremely tough. He shook his sleeves, turned around and took a jar from the table where the sorting hat was placed, happily Hehe said to Amosta,
"The owner of Honeydukes Candy Store, Ciceron Haggis, has a little friendship with me. He knows my hobbies, so he often asks someone to bring me some new products in the store for me to taste."

With that said, Dumbledore opened the lid, rolled up his sleeves and reached down to grope for it. However, after a long time of confusion, his hand did not retract.

"Are you catching bugs, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

Looking at the eccentric Dumbledore, Amosta also laughed, but soon he couldn't laugh anymore,
"Oh, yes, these little guys are really sharp beyond imagination-"

Dumbledore blinked at Amosta, and in the next second, the hand that was stuck in the jar retracted while holding a screaming and struggling thing, and handed it to Amosta like a treasure. Amostar, who was blacked out at once,

"The name of this candy is Cockroach Pile, and its inventor, Mr. Haggis, is still hesitating whether to introduce it to the residents of the wizarding world."

"I think Mr. Haggis really needs to think carefully," he said.

Amosta turned his face away and said with disgust,

"By the way, I think he needs to go to St. Mungo's to have his brain checked."

"Oh, it looks like we can't come to an agreement—"

Dumbledore said regretfully, in front of Amosta who was covered with chills, he happily threw the overly realistic candy into his mouth, creaked, squinted his eyes and chewed happily, After a few seconds, Dumbledore froze,
'This little guy may have taken one of my teeth'

Dumbledore said 'painfully',

"And I kind of swallowed it down, oh, what a terrible loss."

Enough is enough for you, old man, the tricks aren't over yet, are they? !
Compared to before, the atmosphere in the office was a little more active. Dumbledore and Amostar were leaning back in their chairs, each holding their own drinks, as if they were discussing tomorrow's weather in a casual manner.

call--
Blowing on cooling air, taking a sip of the bitter tea, feeling the wonderful taste of the hot flow from the bitter burning throat pouring into the stomach and abdomen, Amosta breathed a sigh of relief,
"Your previous guess, Principal Dumbledore, I noticed that your description is: 'I vaguely perceive power that does not belong to me'. So, that is to say, you are not sure whether that thing is the soul fragment of a certain wizard , or rather, a Horcrux?"

"We all know what the essence of a Horcrux is, Amostar,"

Dumbledore raised his head, staring at the colorful patterns on the dome and said,
"A piece of stripped soul protected by powerful and evil magic. Each soul is unique like our magic. Unless that soul belongs to you, otherwise, they can only depend on each other. It cannot be integrated.”

"You mean, the result of your observation is that that thing is mixed with my soul?"

"I think so."

Dumbledore looked at Amosta, as if to confirm whether his judgment was wrong again,
"That's a very close connection, it's lurking in your soul. Like"

Dumbledore hesitated, as if he was struggling with how to describe what he saw like Amosta, his gaze wandered, and he landed on the green tea held in Amosta's hand,

"It's like two cups of drinks with different colors that cannot dissolve each other. Of course, we still can't rule out the possibility that it is a soul fragment, because my speculation is only based on theory, and the deepest kind of Horcrux We can't even say we really understand the black magic of the Ombudsman."

Amosta nodded slightly, acknowledging Dumbledore's evaluation of the Horcrux.

Indeed, in the current wizarding world, it is Voldemort who has the deepest knowledge of Horcruxes, not him and Albus Dumbledore.

Memory, memory again.

Dumbledore fell silent, and Amosta was not talking, thinking dully.

Whether it's a Horcrux or something else, the 'foreign objects' in Amosta's soul are undoubtedly written by a wizard, but he doesn't have any memory about it.

"If you really don't know anything about this stuff—"

Dumbledore looked at Amosta, hesitating in tone,
"if you allow"

"Thank you for your kindness, Headmaster Dumbledore—"

Amosta interrupted Dumbledore's words first, he responded to Dumbledore's gaze, moved the corner of his mouth,
"I will not allow anyone to examine my memory."

Dumbledore was not surprised by Amostar's answer, of course, even the closest partner, I am afraid that he cannot bear the other party knowing all his memories.

Regarding whether the thing in Amosta's soul is a piece of soul or something else, it is impossible to make an accurate guess based on the information currently available, but they can at least confirm some things.

thump--
The bottom of the glass bottle made a crisp sound when it touched the table. Just staring at the bottle that was already completely dark, the portraits of the previous headmasters on the wall all took a breath.

"Over the years, I have been exposed countless times under your nose, Headmaster Dumbledore,"

Recalling the unreasonable throbbing in his heart when the Patronus was summoned on the Quidditch pitch, Amosta's eyes pointed to Dumbledore who was solemnly looking at the dementor, one of the most evil creatures in the magic world, said slowly,
"But you have never noticed my strangeness until I summoned the Patronus just now when I faced the dementor"

"I see what you mean, Amostar."

Dumbledore sighed slightly.
"As for the dementors, which cannot be destroyed by mana, even the patron saint can only suppress the specific origin of creatures that cannot be destroyed, there has been no conclusion in the magic world. According to some records, some people think that they are black wizards in the fifteenth century. Extis created the Dementor, but according to some internal records of the Ministry of Magic, the predecessor of the Ministry of Magic, the investigators of the Royal Society of Magic, found some clues when they landed on the island of Azkaban. Look, this creature seems to have been there long ago
We don't know exactly when it appeared, and we have no way of knowing whether it is a magical creature derived from nature, or a whim of a dark wizard.
Oh, but judging from the current situation, there is a high probability that they were manufactured artificially. Of course, you must have thought that their creators probably have some kind of mysterious relationship with you, but this doesn't make sense, does it? "

Dumbledore looked at Amostar worriedly and said,

"Even if the horrible creature that can take away people's happiness really came from that dark wizard in the fifteenth century, why would it be associated with you?"



(End of this chapter)