"If I'm not mistaken, Mr. Malfoy, isn't this the first time we've met alone in private since the Christmas holiday?"
After Professor Snape left, Amortha took Malfoy into the office, looked at Malfoy sitting opposite the desk in a state of trepidation, lowered his head and sipped the hot tea in his cup... Since he returned to Hogwarts again, he drank more tea than before.
Amortha doesn't like bitter drinks, but for some reason, whenever he feels like having something to drink, tea is the first choice that pops into his mind.
Human beings are truly complex creatures--a sudden thought crossed Amortha's mind as he looked at Malfoy again, "Humans are complex animals."
"Sir, you didn't forget, Professor Blaine."
Malfoy looked down at his toes, shifting restlessly as if there were needles in the cushion of the chair pricking his buttocks.
Amortha gracefully leaned back against the chair, continuously rubbing the cup's rim with his fingertips, smiling at this person, the sole inheritor of the richest pure-blood family in the British wizarding world and one of the most famous families advocating for pure-blood theory. His casual tone could even be considered impolite.
"So, Malfoy, what's the point of even summoning Professor Snape to see me?"
Having spent seven years at Slytherin College, Amortha was well aware of the proper approach to dealing with the descendants of these pure-blood families--attempting to win their recognition with polite demeanor was futile, and dreaming of earning their respect without giving them a taste of one's authority was sheer fantasy.
Under the strong pressure of Amortha, Malfoy's usual arrogance and contemptuous appearance vanished cleanly. He was just as obedient and afraid to make a move as Neville in front of Professor Snape.
"It's actually about the 'Control Object Spell' you demonstrated in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Professor Blaine. I would like to ask you for the trick to this spell... I've tried it privately, but I always can't find the knack..."
Amortha blinked his eyes, and Malfoy's answer did indeed surprise him a bit.
Ding-dong-dong—
Ding-dong-dong—
Amortha gently tapped on the desk, not speaking immediately. He looked at Malfoy with an interesting gaze until the little wizard was about to be overwhelmed by his surrounding aura and run away, and then he opened his mouth with a smile.
"What is your purpose in wanting to learn this spell, Malfoy? Is it out of a desire for knowledge, or is it simply to prove that your talent does not surpass the 'mudblood' missus you mentioned?"
Malfoy's expression turned gloomy. In front of Professor Blaine, he couldn't dishonestly say that the latter wasn't his purpose, but he was also very certain that if he said so, he wouldn't be split in two, but he might very well be sent out of the office by Professor Blaine directly.
"Chuckles, it seems you have already realized where the problem lies, Malfoy."
Amortha rose to his feet and smiled again, returning to his usual affectionate and friendly demeanor, as if the domineering and arrogant wizard he had just been wasn't him.
He wandered to the center of the office and with just a snap of his fingers, a stone pillar appeared on the floor, just like the one during the black magic defense class that day.
"Come over, Malfoy. Let me see what you're made of."
The guidance for Malfoy took nearly two hours, during which he carefully corrected the flaws in Malfoy's casting gestures and how to coordinate his magic while reciting the spell.
But by the end, Malfoy still hadn't completely mastered Amortha's "Control Object Spell" which he created and easily used in the lower secondary school.
The reason lies in the words he said to Hermione in class, that for first-year students, this spell requires too much magic power and spiritual power to control, which is far beyond their current capabilities. This is unavoidable because not everyone is like Amortha, with magical powers far exceeding their peers and the strong spiritual power brought by two souls overlapping.
Malfoy seemed quite pleased with himself. His smile of pride was impossible to hide as he gazed at the shavings of stone that his spell had sliced off from the feather on the ground.
"Thank you for your guidance, Professor!"
Malfoy, standing at the doorway, bent down and expressed his heartfelt gratitude to Amortha.
"Before you leave, I have a piece of advice for you—"
Amortha returned to his own office and looked at the door with a deep meaning in his eyes.
"Throughout, the only opponent you have to beat is your arrogance, Mr. Malfoy."
...............
The good weather that has lasted for days finally ended on Saturday morning. The pleasant breeze that had been wandering around the spacious lawn for more than a month returned to the frosty wetness of a month ago. Hogwarts Castle stood in the drizzle, overlooking the distant snow-capped peaks across the woods.
As he passed by the Quidditch pitch, Amortha was surprised to see a few young witches flying on brooms braving the rain and wind beneath the low clouds. From the colors of their robes, they seemed to be from Gryffindor.
"Grrr!"
Stopping to watch for a moment, Amortha shook his head in admiration,
"Poor Flint! It looks like only Merlin and God can help him win this year's final!"
When they arrived at the hut in the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid was in the back of the house, humming a song while helping an animal with an injured hoof. The soft expression on his large furry face was simply endearing!
"The Griffin... this animal's temperament isn't too good, Hagrid."
"Oh, actually, they're not too bad. Once you find the knack, you'll see that it's not difficult to deal with them--"
Hagrid was completely focused on treating the injury of the Griffin, not noticing who was talking to him.
"This adorable little guy is going into adulthood now, and he and his companions have been fighting over mating rights, resulting in him getting all sorts of injuries. I can't just ignore them, or those wounds will get infected and puss-ooze!"
Most magical creatures have a more acute intuition than wizards. Under Amortha's interested gaze, the little creature lying on the ground with a collar around its neck, a Griffin-headed horse, became restless and fidgeted. It seemed to realize that the young man in front was very dangerous and was eager to break free from Hagrid's hold.
"Oh, don't worry, Buckbeak, I'm coming... Excuse me, could you help me with the scissors?"
Hagrid's huge hand pressed lightly on Buckbeak's neck, and no matter how the Griffin on the ground struggled, there was no movement at all.
"Oh, thank you!"
Hagrid took the scissors that were offered to him by the young hand, with his head down, muttering.
"No problem—"
Amortha smiled politely. Dumbledore was right; it seemed that Hagrid, who was of giant descent, indeed shone with a light that few others possessed.
As soon as Hagrid released his hand, Buckbeak shot out like an arrow, without looking back and directly ran into the Forbidden Forest, its energetic appearance making Hagrid smile broadly.
"Oh, it seems quite energetic. naughty little beast, I hope this experience won't make you afraid to pursue love... Er, cough cough! Professor Blaine!"
Watching Buckbeak run into the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid finally turned back with a smile. But when he saw the person's face, his bright smile froze instantly and, after a few seconds, hesitantly turned into an embarrassed but polite smile.
"It's you, Professor Blane. What brings you here... cough cough... I mean, what brings you here?"
