Cakarlov was indeed indulging in Viktor Krum, and after Krum put his name into the Flames Cup and confirmed that there would be no surprises, he directly put his arm around Krum's shoulder and left, completely ignoring the disappointed expressions of the students he brought along. Amosut believed that if the regulations of the competition required each school to provide a certain number of candidates, then Cakarlov might only come to compete with Krum.
This time, Amosut added some features to the panoramic telescope on the terminal, which not only allows for visual observation but also auditory.
However, in the office, Amosut and Dumbledore, who had been scolded by Cakarlov, did not have a displeased expression on their faces. Both men remained calm and composed, watching as the entire crowd from Demstrang disappeared from the surveillance footage.
"Surprisingly--"
Amosut slowly stood up and walked to the fireplace, taking down the copper teapot from the shelf to refill his cup with hot water. Holding the cup, he gazed at a group of Demstrang students walking towards the haunted boat on the lake through the slats of the curtains.
"I thought Voldemort would contact one of his old servants to carry out the task, as it is much easier for Cakarlov to act compared to the difficulty of sneaking into Hogwarts."
"You don't know Tom well enough, Amosut..."
Dumbledore calmly said,
"Unless he is absolutely forced to, I believe he would not risk revealing his identity before his old followers, especially since some of Professor Cakarlov's actions might not seem particularly loyal in Tom's eyes, after he was defeated by Harry."
Amosut nodded slightly. Only after watching the people from Demstrang return to the boat did he look away.
The moon shone through the layered thick clouds with muddy light, which did not brighten the land but instead increased the rampant darkness and desolation.
Amosut directed his gaze to the school grounds. The Booburton carriage was completely dark, with all the lights extinguished.
Suddenly, a rustling sound echoed from the entrance hall. There was no one around, but the steps along the side of the hall were clearly footsteps, which descended from the upper floor to the entrance hall and finally stopped before Dumbledore's drawn age line.
The person concealing her figure seemed to be in a state of indecision and hesitation. She did not act rashly, and for a while, the entrance hall was filled with the sound of firecrackers as the torches burned and the sharp, terrifying wind howled.
This silence persisted for about ten minutes until the lurker finally made up her mind. She took a step over Dumbledore's drawn age line, and the floating silver loops dispersed into a few streams of silvery mist.
One second, two seconds, three seconds...
No event occurred, and the lurker let out a muffled cheer.
The lurker stood contentedly under the cauldron, her hands tightly clutching the piece of vellum she was about to throw in, her mouth wide open in a fantasy of fame and wealth.
But at that moment, a tremendous force suddenly descended, as if an invisible hand had seized her body and flung her around like a lead ball, violently throwing her out of the loop!
"Ow!"
This Ravencroft girl who wanted to take a special route stumbled in pain on the cold, hard ground ten feet away from the loop, wailing in agony. Perhaps the reflection of the polished marble floor showed her that she might have blown her cover. After the pain could be tolerated, she struggled to get up from the ground, rubbing her face instinctively. Then, she felt something soft and fluffy.
"Ow!"
The Ravenclaw girl called out a second time, and this time, the call was even more laced with shame. She covered her face and wept as she ran up the stairs, quickly vanishing from view.
"To be honest, Miss Focaccia's illusion spell still has some degree of skill..."
Amosut chuckled.
"I agree with your view, Amosut..."
Dumbledore spoke in a tone that was amused,
"At Hogwarts, students of Ravenclaw devote the most energy to their studies, so their grades are generally better than those of the other three houses. To be honest, I didn't expect someone to be able to configure aging potion so quickly. Perhaps Miss Focaccia was prepared in advance--"
Thump, thump, thump...
At that moment, a rhythmic tapping sound on the floor interrupted Amosut and Dumbledore's conversation, bringing their attention back to the movement in the entrance hall.
"Professor Moody?"
Amosut's eyelids twitched slightly as he looked at the figure stepping out of the darkness, raising his tone slightly, "Why would he come down at this time?"
"I guess it's Professor Alastor on a patrol--"
Dumbledore also moved his silvery white whiskers and said calmly,
"Alastor has fought against evil all his life, and his experience and sense of smell are not weaker than ours. It's obvious that he also realizes that if someone wants to play a trick, tonight is undoubtedly the most appropriate opportunity..."
It seems that things are indeed as Dumbledore said.
Professor Moody leaned on his crutch outside the age line, his blue eye darting wildly in its socket as if he was watching for any suspicious lurkers. After a minute of confirming that the surroundings were safe, he began to circle around the cauldron. Both of his eyes were fixed on the rough walls of the cauldron, just like Cakarlov, checking if anything had been tampered with.
After a while, Professor Moody stopped walking. He gazed at the portrait characters that had fallen into a deep sleep on the wall for a moment, then turned around and left the entrance hall, heading towards the castle exterior.
"Is he going to patrol the playground?"
Amosut sipped his hot tea and shook his head slightly,
"He should have put on more clothes. It's not that warm outside now, and if he gets sick, it'll be up to me to keep up the Defense Against the Dark Arts class."
Dumbledore helplessly chuckled.
It must be said that at times, the mark of Slytherin on Amosut is quite evident. You shouldn't expect him to be very lenient towards people he doesn't like.
Dumbledore was about to make some justification for Professor Moody's rash actions at the entrance hall at the beginning of this school year, but suddenly, the rhythmic sound of the cane tapping on the floor that had just resounded again, interrupting Dumbledore's words.
Just a few minutes after leaving the castle, Moody returned again. He didn't go straight up the stairs but stopped once more outside the age line. His eye darted around in his socket a few times before locking onto the cauldron resting in the center of the loop on the surveillance footage. A deep expression appeared on his face as he looked at it through the full-spectrum telescope's camera feed.
Thud--
Amosut slowly placed the teacup on the mantelpiece, gazing directly at the shadows, furrowing his brow slightly, and his violet eyes seemed to hold depths like a well.
And Dumbledore, who was sitting on the sofa -- his back silently slid away from the soft back of the sofa, his expressionless face revealing a faint chill in the deep blue eyes behind the crescent-shaped glasses. Under the heat radiation of the fireplace and a slight breeze from through the crack, Dumbledore's silvery white hair gently swayed.
Standing in silence for a moment, Moody with a solemn expression crossed the age line and stood under the cauldron. He put his hand into his pocket, and when he pulled it out again, there was a folded piece of paper in his palm.
A pale spell light flashed, the blue-white flames of the cauldron shook violently, and even the rough-carved cup shook fiercely as if it were resisting something. However, in the end, this resistance was suppressed, and everything returned to peace. The piece of parchment held by Professor Moody disappeared in the flames that had stirred up earlier.
Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle--
Moody's action of pulling the cork from the flask he always carried was almost desperate. He downed a few swigs of the drink, and the chaotic breathing and the sudden rush of liquid into his throat caused him to cough violently twice.
Moody professor seemed to realize he had caused a stir. He hobbled out of the doorway, not going upstairs but quickly heading towards the entrance hall on one side. His figure quickly disappeared into the shadow of the underground tunnel leading to Slytherin.
"That's interesting..."
The sky, the clouds parted, and the moon shone brightly.
Amosut picked up the teacup again, calmly looking at Dumbledore, who also returned a calm gaze, and repeated,
"That's interesting..."
(Chapter complete)
