Chapter 101: Amster borrowed the title to study the antidote
In the second week at Greengrass Manor, Amster adjusted the magical fluctuation detection time for Astoria from early morning to afternoon.
With the recorded data of several consecutive days laid out before him, the clear curves revealed a pattern — although Astoria's mental state in the morning was slightly better, her magical fluctuations were always on the verge of disorder, sometimes fluctuating weakly and sometimes briefly depleting; whereas in the afternoon, her magical circulation tended to be more stable, and the erosion traces of the curse were relatively gentle.
He briefly explained the reason for this adjustment to Daphne, his tone calm and objective: "Early morning is the peak period for human hormone fluctuations, with too many distractions; afternoon data can better reflect the true state of the curse in her bloodline."
Astoria stood by the bed, listening to these explanations filled with professional terminology. Her clear eyes blinked. Although she could not completely understand it, she still obediently nodded, turned her head, and softly said to Daphne: "Sister, just move the nap half an hour later."
Daphne naturally arranged it accordingly, her fingertips gently rubbing her younger sister's crown, her eyes full of tender accommodation.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the gaps of the curtains, casting mottled light and shadow in Astoria's room. Daphne arrived punctually every day.
She sat in the carved armchair by the window, holding a hardcover poetry book in her hands. Her page-turning action was very slow, and the pages were slightly wrinkled by her rubbing, but her gaze always unconsciously drifted toward Amster and Astoria by the bed. She glanced at Amster, who was recording data, and then quickly dropped back to the pages, her fingertips unconsciously twisting the hem of her skirt.
Astoria obediently leaned against the head of the bed, her arms stretching out from the flannel quilt and resting on the small table by the bedside.
Amster walked over slowly, drew his wand, the tip of which glowed with a warm light golden shimmer, and gently pressed it against her wrist. His magic slowly probed into her meridians, carefully sorting out the trajectory of the curse.
She never spoke, either quietly gazing at the exquisite relief on the ceiling, or turning her head to look out the window, watching the wind blow the rose branches and leaves in the courtyard, and watching the gray-blue sky slowly stained lighter by the clouds.
Occasionally, she would suddenly curl the corners of her mouth, revealing a faint smile, as if dreaming of some sweet picture, but that smile was fleeting, and soon she returned to a quiet appearance, as if those brief joys were just fleeting phantoms.
"You are in a good mood today." Amster recorded the last set of data on the parchment notebook, his pen tip pausing, and spoke softly when closing the notebook.
Astoria tilted her small head, her fingertips gently picking at the corner of the quilt, thinking for a few seconds before speaking slowly: "I had a dream last night. I dreamed that I went to Hogwarts, and the Sorting Hat fell on my head, saying that I am Ravenclaw. I was so happy in the dream, thinking that I could finally be in the same house with my sister and meet many friends who like reading."
She paused, her voice lowering slightly, "But when I woke up and found it was just a dream, I was a little unhappy."
"But I am used to being unhappy." When this sentence came out of her mouth, there was not the slightest resentment, only a detachment after experiencing illness, as if she had long accepted the many regrets of life.
Daphne stood up from the armchair, walked quickly to the bedside, carefully helped her pull up the sliding flannel quilt, completely wrapped her hands into the quilt, and softened her voice further: "Don't think about these nonsense things, resting well is what matters."
Astoria looked up at her sister, neither saying "good" nor "not good", just blinking her eyes gently, her long eyelashes casting fragmented shadows under the light and shadow.
Amster put the notebook into his portable leather bag, stood up, and walked toward the door.
Daphne looked at his back, hesitated for a moment, but still quickly followed him out, catching up with him in the corridor. Her footsteps were light, and her voice carried a trace of imperceptible eagerness: "Don't take those dreams she talked about today to heart. She didn't mean to make things difficult for you by saying these."
"Which meaning?" Amster stopped, turned his head to look at her, his tone calm.
Daphne froze for a moment, opened her mouth, as if wanting to explain the grievance behind her sister's sentence "used to being unhappy", but when the words reached her lips, she felt there was nowhere to start. In the end, she just gently pursed her lips and shook her head: "It's nothing, it's just... she's young and just talking casually."
She turned and walked away quickly, her steps much faster than usual, as if escaping something, and quickly disappeared at the top of the stairs.
Amster stood in the quiet corridor, watching her departing back, his fingertips gently rubbing the shaft of his wand, and his gaze fell on the window at the end of the corridor.
Outside the window, the treetops of the Forbidden Forestwere swayed back and forth by the sea breeze, the branches and leaves colliding to make rustling sounds, and a few gray flying birds swept across the treetops and quickly fell back down.
He stood for a moment, did not stay long, turned around, and returned to his guest room.
On the afternoon of the third day, the sunlight was a bit dimmer than the previous few days, and thick clouds spread across the sky.
Astoria leaned against the head of the bed, holding no book in her hand, just quietly gazing at the rose bushes outside the window.
When Amster pushed the door open and entered, she turned her head to look at him. Waiting for him to sit on the chair by the bed and pull out his wand, she suddenly spoke softly, her tone neither like accusation nor like acting spoiled, but simply stating a fact: "Don't you find it annoying to come and check like this every day, recording data over and over again?"
"I don't find it annoying." Amster's voice remained steady, his wand gently pressing against her wrist as his magic slowly probed inward.
"You're lying." Astoria closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembling slightly, "I myself feel a bit impatient being checked every day, you must find it annoying too."
Amster didn't speak, only concentrating on sensing the fluctuations of the curse in her bloodline. The magic at his fingertips always maintained a stable temperature, gently soothing her disordered magic.
Astoria didn't speak again either, leaning quietly against the head of the bed and letting him test her.
After the data was recorded, Amster withdrew his wand, closed the notebook, and his tone remained calm: "Same time tomorrow."
"Got it." Astoria opened her eyes, still gazing at the ceiling, her voice faint, "Anyway, I have nothing else to do."
Amster stood up, walked to the door, his hand resting on the door handle. Pausing for a moment, he slowly spoke: "Your sister is very worried about you."
Astoria did not answer, just gently pursed her lips, her fingertips lightly brushing across the surface of the quilt.
Amster didn't look back, gently pushed open the door, and walked out.
In the corridor, Mrs. Greengrass leaned against the stone wall on the west side, dressed in a light gray long dress, her long hair loosely tied up with a simple silver hairpin inserted.
She was holding a cup of warm herbal tea in her hand, having obviously stood there for a while. Hearing the door sound, she slowly raised her eyes to look at Amster, her eyes carrying a trace of gentle inquiry and worry for her daughter.
"Finished recording?" She spoke first, her voice gentle, lacking the usual reserved coldness and hardness, and having a few more points of a mother's softness.
"Mm." Amster nodded slightly, responding politely.
"How is her condition today?" Mrs. Greengrass placed the teacup on the wall ledge of the corridor, her tone concerned. Although she hadn't disturbed too much these days, she had always been paying attention to her younger sister's condition, and finally took the initiative to ask at this moment.
"Not bad, the data is stable." Amster answered truthfully.
Mrs. Greengrass nodded, her gaze turning toward the tightly closed door, a flash of heartache flickering in the depths of her eyes. Then she turned to look at Amster, her tone earnest: "Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Dumbledore. Coming here day after day these past few days and helping to sort out the data — if it weren't for you, the three of us mothers and daughters wouldn't know what to do."
Amster shook his head slightly: "It's part of my duty."
Mrs. Greengrass smiled, without saying more polite words, just gently patted his arm, like an elder encouraging a junior: "Rest well. I've asked the kitchen to prepare some light soup for tonight, remember to come to the living room to have some."
Amster accepted: "Thank you, Madam."
Mrs. Greengrass then turned around, gently pushed open Astoria's door, and walked in.
Amster stood in the corridor, looking at the re-closed door, his gaze falling on the gray sky outside the window.
In the direction of the Forbidden Forest, a few birds suddenly flew up from the treetops, drew a few shallow arcs in the sky, and quickly fell back to the branches. The wind was still blowing the treetops, rustling.
He stood for a moment, gently tapped the door frame with his fingertips, and then turned and walked away slowly.
Chapter 102: Before Leaving
On the last day of his stay at Greengrass Manor, just as the sky was beginning to brighten and a light mist still clung to the rose branches in the courtyard, the entire estate was immersed in a pale morning light.
Amster was awakened by a very faint movement; it wasn't intentional, but his long-maintained vigilance allowed him to easily perceive the presence beside him.
The curtains of the guest room were not fully drawn, and a slender streak of morning light squeezed through the gap, falling diagonally onto the dark gray blanket at the end of the bed, casting a soft warmth over the cool-toned wool.
He had originally kept his eyes closed with his breathing steady, but the next second, a softness carrying a slightly cool scent of soap gently covered his lips, landing on them with a hint of haste and the panic of mustered courage, completely unawares.
Amster slowly opened his eyes, and what met his gaze was Daphne's face, close at hand.
She was wearing a plain white nightgown, her long hair draped loosely over her shoulders and falling softly on both sides of her cheeks. Her brows and eyes, usually so cold and aloof, were now full of tension and apprehension, with a faint flush across her cheeks.
By the bedside stood little Astoria.
The little girl was wearing a cute floral bathrobe, her bare feet stepping on the thick carpet. She had originally come in with her older sister, but right now, she widened her bright eyes, staring straight at the scene before her, her small body frozen in place.
She instinctively raised her small hand to cover her eyes, but the gaps between her fingers were wide open, failing to block her view at all. Her eyelashes trembled gently, and her little face was filled with curiosity alongside a touch of naive sensibility. She didn't dare make a single sound, just peeking through the gaps in her fingers, her pink little lips pursed tightly, looking like she was trying hard to hold back from speaking.
Amster just lay there quietly, not moving immediately, looking calmly at the girl before him who had mustered up her courage.
Daphne quickly reacted, stepping back a short distance. Her lips still retained the slight coolness of morning dew. Looking at Amster who had opened his eyes, the tips of her ears turned completely red, and her heartbeat was so fast it almost felt like it would burst out of her chest, yet she still fought back her panic and didn't dodge away.
She had purposely come over early, knowing that he was leaving today. Her feelings, accumulated over a full two weeks, could no longer be held back, nor did she want to endure it any longer.
"Senior." Daphne spoke, her voice soft with a trace of imperceptible tremor.
Amster slowly sat up, raised a hand to gently touch his lips, and looked at her with a gaze that remained calm.
Daphne took half a step forward, getting closer to him as the faint scent of soap around her grew clearer. Her hands hanging by her sides tightly grasped the hem of her nightgown, her fingertips turning slightly pale. Lowering her head to glance at Astoria who stood beside her looking curious, she first shook her head gently at her younger sister, then raised her head again, looking straight at Amster with a firm gaze.
"You're leaving today." In her earlier panic, she had actually gotten the date wrong; realizing it now, her voice carried a trace of vexation, yet it was all the more resolute.
Amster nodded slightly, his tone flat: "Today."
Daphne lowered her head, staring at the soft carpet beneath her feet. She was stepping on it barefoot, her toes curling slightly from tension, and even her breathing became cautious. After brewing her emotions for a long time, she raised her head once more, the tension in her eyes fading a bit, leaving only complete sincerity.
Without the slightest hesitation or retreat, she looked at Amster, word by word, clear and firm: "I like you, Senior."
"It's not gratitude for your help, nor is it admiration for your knowledge and abilities. It's simply liking you—the desire to quietly stay by your side."
"From the very first day you came to the manor, these feelings have been hidden in my heart. I've endured it for a full two weeks, and I don't want to endure it anymore."
After saying this, she looked straight at him, waiting for an answer. Her eye sockets were slightly red, but she stubbornly held back her tears. Even though her heart was already churning with turbulent emotions, she still maintained her final composure.
Astoria by the bedside was still covering her eyes, though the gaps between her fingers had widened even more. Tilting her small head slightly, she half-understood what she heard, yet she obediently kept quiet, just secretly watching the two of them. The curiosity on her little face grew denser, accompanied by a trace of nervous expression for her older sister, her small hands clenched into tiny fists.
Amster looked at the girl before him—her gaze firm, her face flustered yet incomparably brave. He watched her in silence for a few seconds, his gaze calm and waveless, before slowly speaking, his tone still detached, yet giving the most affirmative answer: "Okay."
Daphne froze instantly, her eyes widening slightly, clearly not expecting the answer to come so crisply and directly. She instinctively repeated it, her voice filled with disbelief: "Okay?"
"Okay." Amster repeated, adding in a flat tone, "You don't need to move over, you don't need to come looking for me every day, and it won't affect your life or your studies. But occasionally, if you want to come over and sit, or chat, you can."
Daphne stared at him for two seconds, and after confirming she hadn't misheard, the corners of her mouth slowly curved up into a faint smile.
That wasn't the sort of distant, detached, and politely proper smile she usually wore, but rather a smile struck by overwhelming joy and steadily catching the feelings from the bottom of her heart. It carried thick warmth, intermingled with a trace of poorly concealed weeping tone in her voice. Her eye sockets were red, yet she smiled with exceptional sincerity.
"Thank you." She said softly, her voice carrying an undisguised joy and emotional touch.
Amster raised an eyebrow slightly, asking blandly in return: "What are you thanking me for?"
"Thank you for not making me wait too long." Daphnesniffed, gently wiping away the dampness at the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand, trying hard to calm her churning emotions.
Seeing this, Astoria beside her quietly lowered her hands covering her eyes, trotted in small steps to Daphne's side, reached out to tug at the hem of her skirt, tilted her little face up to look at her, and chimed in crisply: "Sister is happy!"
The little girl's naive words instantly diluted a bit of the tension and panic from just moments before. Daphnelowered her head, reaching out to gently ruffle her sister's hair, her eyes full of tenderness, and her previously red eye sockets gradually settled down.
"I'm going to check on Astoria; she should be waking up, and it's time to wash up and have breakfast." Daphne took a deep breath and said to Amster, her tone having recovered its usual calm, yet with an added touch of uncontainable lightness.
With that, she took Astoria's small hand and turned to walk toward the door, her steps far lighter than when she had arrived, her back profile even exuding a hint of exuberance.
As she walked, Astoria kept turning her head back to secretly look at Amster, her little face filled with naive smiles, and she even gave him a small, secret wave.
The door was not completely shut, leaving a crack. The soft light from the corridor shone in through the gap, landing right on the spot where Daphne had stood moments before, casting a warm patch of light and shadow.
Amster sat by the bedside, quietly watching that open crack in the door, only standing up after a moment.
He walked slowly to the window and reached out to push open half of it.
The morning sea breeze instantly rushed in, carrying the fresh scent of soil, grass, and roses from the courtyard. The slightly cool wind brushed against his cheeks, feeling exceptionally refreshing.
The rosebushes in the courtyard swayed gently in the morning wind, and the crystal-clear dew on the petals rolled down, dripping into the soil below. The sound of distant waves was low and lingering, echoing over and over, gentle and healing.
Meanwhile, at the corner at the end of the corridor, Mrs. Greengrass was dressed in a light gray morning robe, standing quietly behind a concealed pillar. She didn't step forward to disturb them, nor did she make a single sound.
She watched the back of Daphne briskly leaving while holding her younger sister's hand, and then looked at Amster standing by the guest room window. The corners of her mouth curved up slightly, revealing a gentle and understanding smile. Her eyes were filled with gratification and without a trace of blame, holding only doting indulgence and tacit approval for her daughter.
She stood in place, watching quietly for a moment, and after confirming that everything was well, she quietly turned and left, leaving this morning heartbeat and beauty quietly behind in the morning light.
Amster stood by the window, lingering quietly against the morning breeze for a long time, listening to the sound of the waves and smelling the fragrance of the roses, his presence remaining peaceful.
Until the morning light outside the window gradually brightened, he slowly turned around, headed toward the washroom, and began packing his luggage to welcome today's departure.
Chapter 103: Serpent Shadows in the Woods
Greengrass Manor's early morning still retained the subtle fragrance of roses, as a slightly cool breeze drifted through the half-open window crack of the guest room, brushing against the pages at the fingertips of Amster.
Lowering his eyes, he neatly tucked the last few magic tomes with gold-stamped covers into his leather suitcase, his fingertips grazing the dense annotations on the pages with a steady and deft movement, without a hint of procrastination.
The suitcase sat on the carpet by the window, its body engraved with a low-key family crest; Amster raised his hand to tidy the neatly folded clothes and magic items inside, each one placed just right.
At the doorframe behind her, Daphne stood quietly, her light green long dress making her figure appear even slimmer and more delicate, while her originally cold eyebrows and eyes were tinged with an unspeakable lingering attachment and reluctance at this moment.
Her right hand tightly clenched a hand-woven dark gray scarf with a soft woolen texture and dense stitches that clearly took a lot of thought; the scarf was slightly wrinkled from being gripped tightly by her, yet she never took a single step forward, just quietly watching his back like this with a gaze both gentle and restrained.
Until Amster closed the suitcase lid, Daphne gently stepped forward without saying a word of retention, merely stretching out her hand in silence to gently press down the loosened latch of the suitcase with a crisp click that was exceptionally clear in the quiet guest room.
Her fingertips inadvertently brushed against the leather of the suitcase body, feeling slightly cool; finishing all this, she withdrew her hand, letting it hang by her side, a faint, relieved smile curving the corners of her lips while the reluctance deep in her eyes was well concealed, leaving only silent companionship.
In the corridor, Astoria's small figure leaned against the wall; having recovered from illness not long ago, she still carried a bit of frailty with a faint paleness on her face.
Lowering her head, her slender little hands repeatedly folded a piece of parchment filled with records of magical fluctuations, the handwriting neat and childish, every stroke written with exceptional earnestness.
Folding and unfolding, unfolding and folding again until the edges of the parchment became slightly frayed, she finally mustered her courage, walked briskly over to Amster, raised her head, and gently stuffed that wrinkled piece of parchment into his hands with a soft, milky yet earnest voice: "Don't forget to come back for a check-up."
As soon as the words fell, the little girl blushed, turned around as if feeling shy, and trotted back to her own room, her skirt lifting slightly to leave behind an obedient back.
Amster looked down at the parchment in his palm, carefully put it away, picked up the suitcase, and turned to go downstairs.
The wooden stairs made a slight creaking sound; warmth permeated the living room where Mrs. Greengrass was sitting leisurely on the sofa drinking afternoon tea, the bone china teacup emitting a warm luster while exquisite tea snacks were placed on the tea table beside her.
Hearing footsteps, she slowly stood up with a dignified posture and gentle temperament, slightly nodding towards Amster in a calm and polite tone: "Mr. Dumbledore, thank you for your hard work during this time."
Amster gently shook his head, his expression calm and steady, his tone peaceful and without ripples: "It's just stabilized. Eradication still takes time."
He did not over-explain the details of the curse, maintaining a well-measured sense of boundaries in his words.
Hearing this, Mrs. Greengrass did not pursue further questions, clearly well-versed in the ways of hospitality and handling matters; she gently raised her hand and instructed the house-elf nearby to burn the fire in the living room fireplace a bit brighter.
The leaping flames instantly brightened, warm light filling the entire fireplace.
Amster pulled a small handful of silvery Floo powder from his pocket, flicked his wrist slightly, and sprinkled the Floo powder into the flames; the originally orange-red flames instantly transformed into a dazzling emerald green, rolling without the slightest scorching sensation.
"Dorset."
Amster clearly pronounced the destination, then stepped directly into the green flames, instantly swallowed completely by the scorching yet harmless green light and disappearing into the fireplace.
The coastline of Dorset was far gentler than Amster had imagined; the azure seawater gently lapped against the reefs on the shore, and the sea breeze carrying a salty-moist scent swept across the mountains and plains of grass and wildflowers.
Flamel's new home was situated on a quiet little hillside; the grayish-white stone house was rustic and heavy, its walls covered with emerald green vines, and faint smoke curled from the chimney on the roof, exuding the warmth of human fireworks.
In the valley not far away was Newt Scamander's cottage; between the two houses lay a path blooming with colorful wildflowers, winding and full of vitality.
Amster walked out from Flamel's fireplace as the emerald-green flames slowly faded, carrying his suitcase into the house.
The study was quiet and peaceful; Flamel sat before the desk, holding a quill and writing letters earnestly, the nib gliding across the parchment and making a rustling sound.
Hearing movement, he slowly raised his head, his gaze falling upon Amster with a trace of gentleness in the depths of his eyes, then put down the quill in his hand and gently leaned his body against the back of the chair.
"Are things at the Greengrass family done?"
Flamel spoke, his voice old yet steady, carrying the peace sedimented by time.
"Temporarily brought to a close."
Amster gently placed the suitcase beside the desk, pulled over a chair to sit down, and kept his tone calm: "The source of the curse has been found, but eradication still takes time, and follow-up tracking is still needed."
Flamel nodded knowingly without asking further questions; he reached out to pull open the desk drawer, extracted a stack of parchment filled with experimental data, and gently pushed it in front of Amster, the dense handwriting and magic formulae on the paper showing absolute rigor: "For the final optimization of the phoenix potion, I ran several sets of comparative experiments. The results are better than expected."
He stretched out his finger, pointing at the key data on the paper, and explained patiently: "The proportions can be slightly adjusted again, but the direction is already correct."
Amster leaned over, picked up the quill nearby, dipped it in ink, and wrote a few lines of precise annotations in the blank space of the parchment, his handwriting sharp and neat.
Flamel quietly leaned against the back of the chair, silently watching him write, occasionally picking up the teacup on the table to take a gentle sip of hot tea, remaining silent throughout, the atmosphere peaceful and tacit.
The sunlight outside the window slowly moved, creeping from the roof to the treetop, casting mottled light and shadow.
I don't know how much time had passed when Perenellewalked into the study carrying a plate of freshly baked wheat bread and half a pot of hot tea, gently placing the tray on the table; she turned to look at Amster with the concern of an elder and spoke softly: "You've lost weight."
Amster picked up a piece of warm bread and took a gentle bite, the wheat aroma spreading between his lips and teeth; he didn't say much, just silently eating the bread and accepting this silent care.
In the evening, the light among the valley gradually softened, and Newt Scamander walked briskly along the wildflower path.
He wore that washed-white old blue coat with its hem fluttering slightly, carefully carrying an iron cage in his hand inside of which lay an injured Mooncalf, its soft fur curling up quietly.
Seeing Amster, Newt's originally calm eyes lit up instantly, tinged with a bit of joy and anticipation.
He gently placed the cage on the ground with a gentle movement, afraid of disturbing the Mooncalf inside, and looked at Amster, saying: "You've come just in time."
Then turning to look at Flamel, his tone carried a bit of earnestness: "Flamel said you're going to the Albanian forest to help me collect some materials?"
Amster turned to look at Flamel, who nodded gently, giving an affirmative response.
"Newt has recently been researching a magical creature living deep within the Albanian forest," Flamel slowly began, explaining the reason, "I'm not very familiar with the environment over there, but since you've been there, it happens to be on your way."
Hearing this, Amster did not ask more nor show any hesitation, silently committing the matter to heart; his expression remained calm and his actions consistently resolute.
Early the next morning, just as day was breaking, Amstermade preparations for departure.
Setting off from Flamel's fireplace, after confirming the surrounding environment was safe, he directly cast the Apparition spell; accompanied by a slight tearing sound in the air, his figure instantly vanished, directly arriving at the edge of the Albanian forest.
This forest was far gloomier and more eerie than he had imagined; the crowns of the towering trees were stacked layer upon layer, airtight and completely blocking the sky, making it almost difficult for sunlight to penetrate, with only occasional shreds of fine light struggling to leak through the gaps in the branches and leaves, falling onto the thick rotting leaves and moss on the ground like pools of nearly dry water stains, exuding an aura of dead silence.
The air was permeated with a damp smell of decay, mixed with a faint, elusive sweet-fishy odor, heavy enough to tighten one's heart.
Amster stepped on dry branches underfoot, every step producing a tiny crunching sound that was infinitely magnified in the terrifyingly silent forest, resembling someone slowly snapping bones right by one's ear, exuding an inexplicable creepiness.
He walked inward along the forest gaps for about a quarter of an hour, his footsteps steady, remaining constantly vigilant against the surrounding movements.
Right at this moment, his gaze abruptly locked onto the roots of a thick old oak tree ahead.
A huge python was quietly coiled there, its body a full dozen feet long, its dark green scales emitting a chilly luster in the dim light, the scale patterns fine and dense, exuding a cold aura.
Its head was deeply buried in its own body, making it impossible to tell whether it was in deep sleep or deliberately hiding, radiating a faint, unsettling aura all over its body.
Amster immediately stopped in his tracks, standing in place without moving randomly, keenly perceiving that entwined around this snake was a heavy force of a curse—not an ordinary Black Magic curse, but an ancient curse deeply rooted in its bloodline like tangled tree roots, lurking deep within its soul, cold and stubborn.
After a brief pause, Amster slowly took a step forward with gentle movements, making not a single sound.
The giant snake seemed to have sensed the movement, abruptly raising its head, a pair of amber vertical pupils locking tightly onto Amster, pupils contracting slightly and exuding a cold scrutiny.
It did not immediately launch an attack nor scramble away in panic, just quietly locking gazes with him like this, as if it had been waiting here for a long time.
Amster slowly squatted down, retracting all the sharpness of his entire being, and cautiously probed his own magic outward, gently touching the giant snake's body.
The curse aura piercing straight into the marrow was even denser than he had anticipated, almost completely devouring the surrounding magic, yet in the deepest part of this cold curse, he faintly touched a trace of different aura—that was a human soul fluctuation so faint it was almost completely swallowed, existing fragilely yet stubbornly.
Amster slowly stood up, turning his head to look deeper into the forest where the light grew increasingly dim; a cold, viscous dark aura resembling thick fog was slowly approaching this side.
That was neither the wind in the forest nor an ordinary magical creature, but a malicious dark force with an extremely strong tracking desire, moving not particularly fast yet with incomparable firmness, closing in step by step as if locking onto its sole target.
Without the slightest hesitation, Amster immediately took off the magical creature case he carried with him, gently opened the lid, squatted down once more, looked at the giant snake with a calm gaze, and said in a steady and serene tone: "Get in."
The giant snake raised its head, its amber vertical pupils meeting his gaze for a moment, as if understanding his intention; without any resistance, it slowly moved its massive body and quietly crawled into the case.
Amster swiftly closed the lid, securely fastened the latch, and without lingering a moment longer, immediately cast Apparition, his figure instantly vanishing on the spot.
The very next second after he completely disappeared, a dense cluster of black mist-like substance surged crazily from deep within the forest, carrying biting cold and monstrous anger straight toward the old oak tree.
The black mist twisted and churned wildly in the air, emitting a low and ferocious roar—a sound not resembling what any creature's throat could produce, but rather resembling a howl spreading from the depths of hell, shaking the leaves in the forest to flutter down and linger long without dispersing, echoing throughout the dead silent forest.
Chapter 104: Reunion with Old Friends
The firelight in the Dorset fireplace flickered gently, and the emerald-green flames of the Floo powder suddenly surged as Amster stepped out of the fire, his body still carrying a trace of the lingering, chilling dampness from the Albanian forest.
He raised a hand to straighten his cuffs. The study was bathed in soft, warm light; Flamel was standing in front of the bookshelf, his fingertips tracing an ancient blood curse tome with a mottled cover covered in ancient runes, the pages gently turned by him, his gaze focused intently on the obscure text, completely immersed in the contents of the ancient book.
From the kitchen came the faint, rustling sound of a knife cutting bread as Perenelle was busy preparing a meal. Hearing the commotion from the fireplace, she poked her head out slightly. Seeing that it was Amster, a gentle smile flashed across her brows and eyes, but she then silently retreated back into the kitchen to continue her work without disturbing them too much, leaving the room filled with a comforting domestic warmth.
In the living room, Newt had not left. He was still sitting on that old fabric sofa, with a notebook whose corners were worn and yellowed and filled with notes on magical creatures spread across his knees, holding a quill in his hand as he looked down and earnestly recorded something, the rustling sound of the nib gliding across the paper blending with the sounds from the kitchen.
Hearing footsteps, he immediately stopped writing, raised his head, and locked his gaze directly onto the brown leather suitcase tightly grasped in Amster's hand, his eyes carrying a bit of the focus and anticipation he usually had when studying magical creatures.
"Found it? Did you get any results on the magical creature data in the forest?" Newt asked softly, his tone full of concern regarding the commission. He had originally asked Amster to go to the Albanian forest to record the habits and magical data of the rare magical creatures deep within, and at this moment, his heart was entirely filled with matters related to the research.
Amster didn't say much; he walked straight to the wooden table in the living room, gently placed the suitcase on it, unbuckled the latch with his fingertips, and slowly lifted the lid.
The next second, a swift, dark green shadow darted out fiercely from the suitcase, moving lightly yet with vigilance, landing straight onto the carpeted floor and instantly curling into a ball, tightly protecting itself.
It was Nagini. Her body at this moment was slightly more relaxed than it had been in the forest, but her scales remained a dull, dark green, and her amber slit pupils scanned her surroundings vigilantly, exuding a full sense of caution and full of unease toward the unfamiliar environment.
She first cast a quick glance at Flamel by the bookshelf not far away, then turned to look at Newt by the sofa, and finally, her gaze firmly locked onto Amster, carrying a hint of reliance while also hiding a lingering panic.
Newt slowly stood up, placing his steps extremely lightly. Without drawing his wand or carrying any magical implements, he approached step by step, afraid that his movements would startle the creature before him.
He slowly crouched down in front of Nagini, hesitated for a moment, and then gently reached out, carefully pressing his palm against Nagini's cold scales. His fingertips couldn't help but tremble slightly, and his tone was filled with an unbelievable, light quiver.
"Nagini..."
He softly called out the name, his voice as light as a breeze, as if with the slightest bit of force, the figure before him would dissipate.
He hadn't known in advance that Amster would bring her back; purely by virtue of his profound understanding of magical creatures and blood curses, he had recognized the identity of the giant snake before him at a glance, and those fragments sealed deep within his memory instantly flooded his heart.
Nagini's originally tense body paused slightly, and she slowly raised her head. Her amber slit pupils looked at Newt, her eyes lacking the previous vigilance and instead holding a few more complex emotions, before she slowly lowered her head again, letting out a deep, soft purr from her throat—not a threat of attack at all, but carrying the relief of a long-awaited reunion and a trace of imperceptible grievance.
Flamel had closed the ancient book at some point, walking from the study into the living room. He stood quietly by the bookshelf, holding a bone china teacup in his hand, looking calmly at the scene before him, remaining silent throughout and not interrupting this hard-won reunion.
Perenelle poked her head out from the kitchen once more. Seeing the giant snake on the floor and realizing that the atmosphere held no malice, she merely gave a quiet glance before silently retreating, leaving the three humans and one snake to their standoff and warmth.
Newt remained crouched in place, his hand pressed against Nagini's scales unwithdrawn, his fingertips gently stroking her rough scales. His voice choked and stopped in place, that phrase "I thought you would never appear again" permanently stuck in his throat, unable to be spoken aloud, while complex emotions surged within the depths of his eyes—joy, heartache, and an unspeakable sense of guilt.
Nagini's slit pupils contracted slightly, and her tense body completely relaxed, no longer curled up in caution. She gently turned her head, resting it obediently against Newt's palm, her scales brushing across his skin and making a soft, rustling sound, completely letting down all her defenses.
Amster stood to one side, silently watching it all without stepping forward or speaking, quietly guarding this hard-won peace and letting the emotions flow naturally.
I don't know how long had passed before Newt slowly stood up, turning to look at Amster. His eye sockets were already red, and his eyes were bloodshot, yet he forcefully held back his tears from falling, his tone filled with sincere gratitude.
"Thank you. Thank you for accidentally saving her and bringing her back."
Amster shook his head slightly, his expression remaining steady, his voice calm yet carrying weight: "It's not over yet. The blood curse on her has been spreading continuously; when I found her, the curse had already eroded very deeply. Moreover, there was something else chasing her in the forest—a viscous, chilling black mist filled with intense malice, definitely not an ordinary Dark magic creature."
Hearing this, Flamel's originally peaceful brows instantly knitted tightly together, his fingers holding the teacup tightening slightly. He did not ask about the origin of the black mist, but the expression in the depths of his eyes already indicated that he had long guessed the attribution of that dark power, and the atmosphere instantly grew heavy.
Newt lowered his head, looking back at Nagini snuggled beside his hand, his fingertips gently brushing over her scales, his voice low and resolute: "It's a blood curse, an ancient blood curse inherited matrilineally. But the reason she is now completely trapped in a snake form isn't solely due to the original blood curse; someone must have cast another layer of powerful curse on her, forcibly fixing her in the form of a giant snake and completely suppressing her humanity."
Amster looked at him, his gaze sharp, and asked directly: "Do you know who it is?"
Newt did not answer immediately; he simply crouched down once more, bringing his face gently close to Nagini, his palm tenderly pressed against her scales. After a long silence, he said word by word: "I will find out. No matter who the other party is, I will definitely find a way to lift the curse."
Flamel slowly put down the teacup in his hand, no longer silent, and turned to walk back to the study. He pulled an even heavier ancient book, its cover engraved with ancient incantations, from the tall bookshelf. His voice steady and powerful, breaking the heaviness in the living room, he said: "First, settle her in a safe room. As for the rest, we'll take it step by step; a way to break the curse will surely be found."
Chapter 105: Letters and Curse Progress
On the third day of delving into Nagini's blood curse, the cottage in Dorset remained immersed in a quiet research atmosphere.
Outside the window, the sea breeze wrapped in the fresh fragrance of plants and trees slowly brushed across the window lattice, disturbing the scattered corners of parchment in front of the desk.
A brownish-grey owl fluttered its wings and flew in through the open window, landing lightly on the edge of the solid wood table.
Its round eyes swept across the room, and it obediently tucked away its wings.
A light blue envelope was tightly tied to its legs, its corners pressed flat, exuding a touch of exquisiteness.
Amster stopped the action of turning through ancient books in his hand, reached out to untie the fine rope on the owl's leg, and pulled out the letter paper from the envelope.
Hermione's neat and pretty handwriting leaped onto the paper, and the tone was relaxed and casual, entirely like everyday casual chatting between classmates without a trace of restraint.
"Senior:
How has your summer vacation been going?
I hunted down a pair of glasses at a magical accessory shop in Hogsmeade.
The lenses are made of rare magical crystal and can automatically adjust the focal length according to the line of sight.
The shopkeeper said it was a one-of-a-kind limited edition, so I couldn't help buying it.
My mom nagged me about spending pocket money indiscriminately, but I think it's very novel, so let's just consider it a small souvenir of the summer vacation.
Is everything going smoothly for you outside?
When are you returning to Hogwarts?
There are no particularly fresh things here, lacking some liveliness, and I always feel a bit plain."
Amster finished reading the letter line by line, the corners of his lips unconsciously hooking up an extremely faint arc, which smoothed out instantly.
He carefully folded the letter paper, placed it gently on the corner of the desk, and did not pick up his pen to reply for the time being.
Hermione's eyesight was already excellent, and usually she didn't even need to lean close to books.
Buying a pair of magical glasses like this was probably just a girl's disposition, finding it novel and interesting.
He didn't think much of it, and his mind quickly fell back onto the curse research in front of him.
He raised his hand to pick up the quill, opened the thick black leather notebook, the pages of which were filled with dense magical power analysis and spell deduction.
The pen tip dipped in dark black ink, and he continued to sort out the research plan for Nagini's blood curse, every stroke written with focus and rigor, not daring to have the slightest omission.
On the carpet by the fireplace, Nagini lazily raised her huge snake head, her amber vertical pupils quietly watching Amster writing at the desk for a moment, without a trace of vigilance in the depths of her eyes.
Then she slowly lowered her head again, resting her head securely on her coiled body.
Under the reflection of the fireplace firelight, her dark green scales shimmered with a soft dark light, resembling a huge dark green velvet blanket, quietly accompanying the person in the room.
A moment later, Flamel held the ancient book of blood curses whose cover was covered with ancient patterns, walking out slowly from the study room with light and gentle footsteps, afraid of breaking this tranquility.
He walked over to the desk, his gaze sweeping over the deduction content on the notebook, and asked in a peaceful tone: "Any progress?"
Amster's hand holding the pen tip paused for a moment, shook his head gently, and said in a calm and firm tone: "There is no method of breaking it yet, but the research train of thought has become much clearer.
This ancient blood curse cannot be forcibly stripped by external spell power; it must be broken through from inside the bloodline, finding the core node where the curse is bound to magic power and bloodline.
Then, with the power of Alchemy, the curse must be completely stripped from the body's magic power circulation meridians so that it will not harm the origin."
Flamel nodded slightly upon hearing this, gently placing the ancient book in his hand on the desk, the pages of which recorded obscure ancient spells and bloodline charts: "In the letter sent by Grindelwald earlier, a similar train of thought was also mentioned.
He said that a blood curse is essentially a two-way binding of soul and bloodline, just like an invisible magical contract.
The core of lifting the curse is to find the flaw in this contract."
Hearing this, Amster leaned over to pull open the desk drawer, found Grindelwald's previous letter, quickly turned to the paragraph mentioning the curse-lifting method, carefully studied it word by word again, and mutually verified the thoughts therein with his own deductions.
Just at this moment, Newt pushed open the door and walked in, holding a small iron art cage in his hand, which contained a freshly captured stoat.
The little fellow was snow-white all over, curled up in the corner of the cage, its round eyes vigilantly staring at the people in the room, its body trembling slightly.
Newt gently placed the cage on the ground, his movements still as gentle and careful as ever: "The moonstone essence for refining the curse-lifting potion has already been found, but Unicorn tail hair is too rare and precious, so it will take some time to search for it, which won't delay for too long."
Amster looked up at him, nodded gently, and said in a calm tone: "No rush, the potion is an auxiliary.
The most crucial thing right now is to figure out the law of the curse's spread, accurately identify the core nodes, and acting rashly will instead intensify the curse."
Having said that, he slowly stood up, walked to Nagini by the fireplace, slowly squatted down, restrained all the sharp magical power around his body, and only divided out a wisp of extremely gentle magical power, gently probing into Nagini's body.
As soon as it made contact, he sensed that chilling breath of the blood curse, which was a bit heavier than when they first met in the Albanian forest.
Fortunately, it had not completely eroded her soul and bloodline foundation.
Following the breath of the curse, he probed step by step into the depths of the bloodline, his fingertips slightly tightening.
Finally, at the core of the magic power circulation, he touched a tense knot—that was the attachment point of the curse.
All the power of the curse took root from this, entangling her bloodline and magic power, stubbornly entrenched.
A moment later, Amster slowly withdrew his magic power, opened his eyes, a trace of understanding flashing across the depths of his eyes, his tone calm yet carried full assurance: "Found it.
The core attachment point of the curse."
Flamel also walked over quickly, lowering his head to look at the quietly curled up Nagini, his voice slightly lowered: "Since you have a clue, do you have the confidence to break it?"
Amster was silent for a few seconds, quickly deducing the subsequent cracking steps in his mind, and finally spoke in a deep voice: "It can be broken, but it is definitely not a matter of overnight.
This attachment point is deeply bound to her bloodline; the slightest carelessness will cause the curse to backfire.
We must pave the way step by step and fight steadily."
Outside the window, the sky gradually darkened.
Twilight, like a gentle gauze curtain, enveloped the entire valley of Dorset.
The distant coastline blurred in the dimness, and the last touch of orange-red sunset on the horizon slowly sank below sea level, leaving only a hint of faint afterglow.
Amster stood up, walked back to the desk, reopened the notebook, and earnestly recorded word by word the curse node location just found, the corresponding magic power characteristics, and the preliminary stripping plan.
Hermione's letter at the corner of the desk was pinned down by a corner of the notebook, with the corner of the light blue envelope exposed outside.
He casually pulled it out and quickly read it again.
The glasses and souvenirs casually mentioned by the girl were merely small episodes in a plain daily life, ultimately just a bit of attachment from afar.
Right now, breaking Nagini's curse was the top priority.
He carefully folded the letter paper, tucked it into the inner pocket of his robe, and secretly made up his mind that once the curse research got on track and the situation stabilized, he would make subsequent plans.
Newt neatly organized the scattered magic notes one by one, stood up, gently patted the dust stained on his robe, and looked at Amster: "Let's stop here for today.
Early tomorrow morning, we will refine the curse-breaking plan further."
Amster raised his head and nodded gently in acknowledgment.
Newt then gently pushed open the door and walked out slowly.
His leather shoes stepped on the flagstone path outside the house, making a crisp sound.
That sound gradually faded away, and finally merged with the sound of distant waves beating against the reefs, making it hard to distinguish anymore.
Flamel gathered the scattered ancient books and materials on the desk neatly one by one, picked up the slightly cold teacup on the table, and turned back to the study.
Perenelle poked her head out from the kitchen, asking gently if it was necessary to prepare a midnight snack.
Amster gently shook his head, politely declining the kind offer.
The living room finally became completely quiet, with only the crackling sound of firewood burning in the fireplace.
Nagini was still curled up on the carpet, resting with her eyes half-closed, breathing evenly.
Amster sat back down at the desk, his gaze focusedly falling on the notebook, and the quill in his hand kept writing, continuing to refine every detail of the curse stripping.
The rustling sound of the pen tip sliding across the paper became the only sound in the room.
The night grew deeper, and a silvery-white full moon rose from the sea surface.
The clear radiance sprinkled on the sparkling sea surface, shattering into silver light twinkling all over the sky.
The sound of waves drifted over leisurely, gentle and lingering.
And the person in front of the desk plunged wholeheartedly into the research before him.
The letter from afar and the trivial matters of no consequence were temporarily set aside.
All his thoughts were tied to that obscure and difficult-to-understand blood curse, deducing the hope of breaking the deadlock word by word.
Chapter 106 Unexpected Gain
Dorset's afternoon was entirely wrapped in gloomy skies, with lead-gray clouds piled thickly on the horizon, pressing down on the low coastline and making it increasingly quiet.
The salty and damp sea breeze carried cool water vapor as it swept across the rolling hills, blowing the intertwining emerald vines in front of Flamel's cottage into constant gentle swaying.
The leaves rubbed against each other, making a fine and continuous rustling sound, which, mixed with the sound of distant waves gently patting the reefs, became the only movement between heaven and earth.
Indoors, the firewood in the fireplace burned gently, and the orange-red firelight passed through the flickering flames, casting mottled and swaying light and shadows on the walls and floor, driving away the chill brought by the rainy day.
Amster was crouching on the soft wool carpet near the fireplace, withdrawing all the sharp magical aura around his body, and only parting out a wisp of extremely light and gentle spiritual power, slowly probing into Nagini, who was curled up on the ground, meticulously investigating the fluctuation trajectory of the curse deep in her bloodline.
His brows were slightly furrowed, his eyes focused and solemn, and his fingertips hovered an inch above the scales, not daring to touch or disturb them in the slightest, fearing that it would disrupt the already fragile balance of the curse.
Every trace of magical power flow was cautious, precisely capturing every subtle undulation and change of the curse.
Just in this ultimate quietness, the wooden door of the cottage was gently pushed open.
Without any prior notice from an owl letter, nor any warning of magical premonition, everything happened too suddenly.
Dumbledore was standing at the doorway, his body still stained with the sea breeze and moisture from outside.
He was wearing an exquisite deep purple wizard's robe with smooth hems that fluttered gently with the sea breeze.
His long silver-white beard fell down along his collar, swaying slightly in the cool wind.
The half-moon glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, hiding those deep blue eyes.
In his hand, he still leaned on that ancient-patterned Elder Wand, the tip of the wand hanging to the ground, but without a trace of aggressive magic overflowing.
His aura was peaceful and calm throughout, entirely the detachment of an old friend visiting rather than an official confrontation.
"Amster."
He spoke first, his voice gentle and mellow, carrying a unique composure.
He nodded gently toward Amster, and then turned his gaze into the house, bowing slightly in greeting to Flamel, who was walking from the direction of the study, his tone carrying a familiar peace, "Nicolas."
Flamel walked slowly out of the study, still holding a piece of parchment filled with blood curse annotations.
There was not a trace of surprise on his face, as if he had long anticipated the visit of this old friend.
He just quietly put down the parchment in his hand, walked over to the fireplace, picked up the fire tongs, and gently poked the firewood that was about to dim, making the flames burn brightly again.
The warm light instantly spread out, wrapping the entire living room in gentle warmth.
"You've come just in time. Perenelle's lunch has just been prepared. Sit down and eat together."
Flamel spoke, his tone plain and natural, without redundant politeness, entirely the casualness of welcoming an old friend.
At the kitchen doorway, Perenelle was holding a dinner plate and preparing to walk out.
Hearing the commotion, she poked her head out, and seeing that it was Dumbledore, a faint smile rippled across her brows and eyes.
Without much small talk, she quietly turned back into the kitchen and fetched another set of clean tableware and a dinner plate.
Her movements were gentle and neat, quiet and proper the whole time, without disturbing the atmosphere in the room at all.
The dishes for lunch were simple yet warm: freshly baked wheat bread with a crispy crust and soft inside, a few pieces of delicate mild cheese, a pot of thick vegetable stew steaming hot, and an apple pie baked by Perenelleherself.
The sweet yet not greasy aroma slowly drifted in the air, stirring one's taste buds.
Several people sat around the wooden dining table, and Dumbledore happened to sit opposite Amster.
He picked up his knife and fork, slowly cutting the cheese on his plate with elegant and composed movements, and casually asked about the curse matters of Greengrass Manor.
Amster put down his fork, his tone brief and concise, only explaining the core situation that the manor's curse had been stabilized but not yet eradicated, without redundant elaboration.
Dumbledore listened carefully, nodded gently, and did not pursue the details further.
He had always known boundaries, knowing what matters should be delved into deeply and what matters should be left blank.
The atmosphere at the dining table remained peaceful and quiet throughout, with only the subtle sound of tableware gently colliding and the intermittent sound of wind outside.
Nagini was still curled up on the carpet by the fireplace, tightly coiled into a ball.
Her dark green scales glowed with a warm luster under the reflection of the firelight.
She half-closed her amber slit pupils, occasionally gently spitting out her bifurcated snake tongue, the tip of her tongue trembling slightly, as if listening to the conversation of everyone at the table, or simply resting.
She was quiet and docile throughout, without the slightest aggressiveness, completely trusting the people in the house.
Amster ate quietly for a moment, then gently put down his tableware, and turned to look at the frosted glass potion bottle by the table.
Inside was the phoenix potion he had just optimized and blended a few days ago.
After several ratio adjustments, this version was clearer and more translucent than all previous versions.
Under the interweaving of firelight and candlelight, it emitted a faint, soft golden luster.
The life magic flowing in the potion was gentle and powerful, being the key to suppressing the blood curse.
He stood up, picked up the potion bottle, slowly poured a small half cup into a crystal cup, and walked to Nagini's side holding the cup and crouched down.
Deliberately lightening his movements, he slowly brought the rim of the crystal cup close to her lips, saying in a low and gentle voice: "Drink a little, it can ease the erosion of the curse."
Nagini slowly raised her head, her amber slit pupils gazing steadily at the golden potion in the cup, seemingly sensing the gentle vitality within.
After pausing and hesitating for a moment, she slowly opened her mouth and obediently drank the potion bit by bit.
The liquid level in the crystal cup slowly dropped until it was completely empty.
Only then did she gently close her mouth, lower her head again, and the aura around her seemed to become a bit more peaceful.
Amster put the empty cup back on the table and returned to his seat to continue his meal.
Dumbledore just calmly glanced at him, his gaze sweeping over Nagini and falling back onto his plate, without asking questions or showing redundant expressions.
Flamel also ate in silence.
The three of them seemed to have reached a silent tacit understanding: not disturbing, not pursuing, letting this peace continue, and quietly ending this lunch.
Perenelle stood up to clear the dinner plates on the table, bent down to pick up the stacked bowls and dishes, and turned around to walk towards the kitchen.
Just the moment she turned around, her gaze inadvertently swept across the fireplace side, and her originally calm expression suddenly changed.
A small but clear exclamation instantly broke all the quietness in the room.
"Her hand!"
This soft cry plunged the entire room into dead silence, and everyone's eyes cast in unison toward Nagini by the fireplace.
Amster turned his head almost immediately, his eyes suddenly becoming solemn.
Nagini still maintained her curled-up posture, but her body was undergoing incredible changes.
The dark green scales that originally tightly covered her body surface did not fall off in patches, nor were they damaged in the slightest.
Instead, they seemed to be slowly pushed open by a strong vitality from the inside out.
The gaps between the scales gradually widened, and something under the skin was gently surging and stretching, carrying a faint breath of human life.
In just a few short seconds, a pale, slender hand slowly stretched out from the gaps in the scales.
That was a complete human hand, with five distinct fingers, neatly trimmed nails, and a skin color pale from years of lacking sunlight, yet exuding vibrant vitality.
However, a faint trace of scale light still lingered on the fingertips, between human and snake, carrying a bizarre sense of vulnerability.
That hand hung in mid-air, trembling slightly out of control, its fingertips curling gently as if testing to touch the air, or as if confirming its own real existence rather than an illusory dream.
Newt suddenly stood up from his chair, the chair legs scraping against the floor making a harsh sound.
He rushed to Nagini's side in big strides, crouched down directly, his eyes wide open, staring fixedly at that hand.
His eye sockets were slightly red, and his voice trembled uncontrollably, carrying unbelievable joy and heartache: "Nagini? Is that you?"
Hearing the call, that trembling hand shrank slightly, and then, as if mustering up courage, it stretched out steadily once again.
This time, it no longer trembled, but slowly opened its five fingers and then slowly closed them again, repeatedly doing simple movements, clumsy yet earnest, as if trying hard to regain human perception and confirm that it still possessed the humanoid part.
But this hard-won manifestation of human form was ultimately too brief.
In less than a minute, the skin of that hand began to slowly become transparent, the contours of blood vessels and bones beneath the skin gradually fading away, and dark green scales spread up from the fingertips again, covering the fair skin bit by bit.
Finger by finger slowly disappeared, and the scales quickly folded back.
In the blink of an eye, that hand full of humanity completely turned back into a snake's body, and everything returned to normal, as if the shocking scene just now was only an illusory dream under the firelight of the fireplace.
The room fell into a long silence, so quiet that one could hear the crackling sound of firewood burning and the sound of waves outside the window.
Everyone remained silent, still immersed in the shock of that very moment.
Flamel was the first to snap back to his senses.
He put down the teacup in his hand, walked slowly to Nagini's side and crouched down, reached out and gently placed his hand on her snake body, closed his eyes, and concentrated on perceiving the confrontation between the magic and the curse inside her body.
A moment later, he slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at Amster, his tone calm and resolute, accurately stating the truth: "It's the effect of the phoenix potion. The pure life magic in the potion is directly confronting the power of the blood curse. But this is not a complete lifting of the curse; it is just using powerful vitality to temporarily suppress the curse and break open a layer of bondage, allowing her to briefly manifest a human form."
Dumbledore leaned gently against the back of his chair, with his hands folded on his lap.
The blue eyes behind his half-moon glasses flashed with a sharp and lucid light under the reflection of the firelight.
He was silent for a moment, then slowly spoke, his tone calm yet pointing straight to the core: "Since pure vitality can temporarily break the bondage of the curse, as long as we find the true anchor point of this blood curse and disintegrate it from the root, we have the opportunity to completely lift the curse and let her truly turn back into a human."
Amster did not speak.
He slowly crouched down, his eyes quietly looking at Nagini.
Her slit pupils were still amber, but at this moment, that pair of cold snake pupils clearly reflected the jumping firelight in the fireplace.
Deep in her eyes was no longer complete bestiality, but instead hiding a trace of weak human emotion—that was the humanity trapped in the snake form for a long time, which briefly awakened under the nourishment of vitality.
Chapter 107: The Anchor of the Curse
Night had completely enshrouded the valley of Dorset, the sound of waves crashing against the shore turning soft and lingering. The fire in the indoor fireplace leaped, stretching the shadows of the wooden furniture unevenly and dispelling the chill of the night.
That night, Amster sat at the desk, taking out a neatly bound stack of letters from the depths of the drawer—all of them letters sent by Grindelwald.
He carefully spread all the letters out on the desktop, lining them up one by one in chronological order of sending, gently brushing his fingertips across the wax seal on the envelope, and then read them word by word, one by one.
Grindelwald's handwriting was sharp and vigorous, with a unique sharpness to his strokes. The length of each letter was not particularly long, and the diction was concise, yet between the lines, there were always a few precise assertions regarding the ancient blood curse, hitting the nail on the head every single time.
He slowly turned to the third letter, his fingertips suddenly pausing on a section of handwriting, his gaze lingering for a long time, unwilling to move away.
"The essence of a curse is a 'binding'. The caster forcibly binds their own magic together with the victim's bloodline, thereby forming a curse anchor that cannot be easily shaken. External intervention and potion suppression can only temporarily delay the spread of the curse and can never completely eradicate it. To truly lift the curse, one must precisely find the anchor within the bloodline and completely sever this binding from the root."
Amster read this passage silently to himself several times over, etching every single word deep into his heart. Then, he picked up the quill on the desk, dipped it in ink, and heavily wrote three keywords on a blank notebook: **Anchor. Binding. Sever.** Pushing hard with the pen tip, he carved the handwriting onto the paper, firmly cementing this line of thought for lifting the curse.
Newt sat on the old chair opposite the desk, tightly clutching that old book of magical creatures with its yellowed edges and full of annotations, his fingertips constantly rubbing against the pages.
He silently turned through the notes, stopping at a page filled with records of Maledictuses, his movements suddenly halting as his brows furrowed slightly.
"Nagini's blood curse was originally an inherited curse passed down through the maternal line," he slowly began, his voice low, breaking the silence in the room, "yet now she is completely trapped in her snake form, forever unable to transform back into a human. That is by no means solely due to the native blood curse; there must be external forces reinforcing it."
On the armchair by the fireplace, Dumbledore sat quietly, holding a cup of warm honey tea in his hand. Wreaths of steam rose gracefully, blurring his brows and eyes.
He did not interrupt, only listening quietly, his gaze falling upon the leaping firelight as if deep in thought, letting Newt continue.
Newt lowered his voice even further, his tone carrying a hint of heaviness and anger: "Decades ago, there lurked a dark wizard organization in the wizarding world that specialized in hunting Maledictuses. They acted with cruelty, proficient in lost ancient dark magic rituals. Through spellcasting, they could permanently trap Maledictuses in their transformed states, completely stripping away the possibility of them turning back into human form and reducing them into mindless monsters."
He paused slightly, his fingers holding the notebook tightening slightly, his knuckles turning white: "Back then, Nagini was one of the targets hunted by this organization. I haven't been able to find out specifically who did it, but I can be certain that the second layer of curse on her is inevitably tied to this organization."
Dumbledore slowly put down the teacup in his hand, the bottom of the cup tapping gently against the tabletop, making a crisp sound. He raised his eyes to look at Newt, his tone calm yet carrying weight: "Does this organization still have surviving descendants?"
Newt gently shook his head, his eyes filled with helplessness: "The organization fell apart and was completely destroyed many years ago, but the bloodline of the dark wizard who cast the curse back then is most likely still continuing, and the magic of the curse will also be passed down along their bloodline."
Dumbledore fell silent, the firelight from the fireplace reflecting upon his half-moon spectacles, refracting splintered gleams of light. After a moment, he slowly nodded, his tone resolute: "I will look into it."
Amster raised his eyes, gazing straight at Dumbledorewith clear confusion and inquiry in his eyes.
Dumbledore slowly stood up, paced to the window, and pushed open half of the window. A slightly cool sea breeze instantly blew into the room, fluttering his silver hair. Outside the window, a full moon hung high over the sea, its clear radiance spilling across the sparkling surface of the water, shattering into a patch of shimmering silver light, unrealistically beautiful.
"If the anchor of the curse is the binding between the caster's magic and Nagini's bloodline," he said with his back to the two people in the room, his voice drifting over gently with the sea breeze, clear and firm, "then the key to completely lifting the curse lies within the descendants of the caster."
Amster closed the notebook in his hand, tapping his fingertips lightly against the cover, and asked in a deep voice: "We need their magic?"
"Precisely, we need the magic of their bloodline." Dumbledore turned around, his blue eyes exceptionally bright under the firelight. "Using the bloodline magic of the caster's descendants as a catalyst to trace back the source of the curse in reverse is the only way to precisely lock onto the location of the anchor within Nagini's bloodline, preparing us to subsequently sever the binding."
Newt immediately closed the old notebook in his hand, stood up abruptly, his gaze resolute as he took the responsibility upon himself: "I will go find the whereabouts of that family. Even if I have to comb through the entire European wizarding world, I will find their traces."
He quickly assigned the tasks, his tone steady and orderly: "Dumbledore, please contact the Ministry of Magic to retrieve the sealed archives from back then and search for clues related to the organization. Amster, you stay here and continue optimizing the phoenix potion ratio to stabilize Nagini's curse and buy us more time."
The three of them stood together in front of the fireplace, the leaping firelight reflecting upon their faces. They exchanged a glance with one another, without any superfluous words, yet reaching a silent understanding. The room fell into silence once more, with only the sound of the waves and the crackling of the burning firewood interweaving together—an atmosphere heavy yet filled with hope.
Nagini still quietly curled up on the rug by the fireplace, her eyes half-closed and her breathing steady. Her dark green scales emitted a gentle luster under the warm light. Upon careful observation, one could notice that the patch of scales near her head was a few shades lighter than the rest of her body, exuding a trace of faint vitality.
Amster slowly stepped forward, gently squatting down and extending his hand. His palm gently pressed against that lighter-colored patch of scales, and his fingertips could feel the faint pulsation of the bloodline beneath the scales, struggling against the power of the curse.
"Soon." He spoke softly, his voice very light yet carrying absolute certainty, as if comforting Nagini and at the same time strengthening his own conviction.
Nagini slowly opened a slit of her eyes, giving him a look with her amber vertical pupils. There was no longer the usual vigilance in the depths of her eyes, leaving only a hint of docility before she slowly closed them again, plunging back into a quiet rest.
Chapter 108: New Potion, New Hope
Over the next few days, Amster almost completely shut himself in Flamel's study, refusing to step out of the room easily again.
On the large walnut desk, handwritten notes related to blood curses, magic charts, and several constantly revised versions of the phoenix potion recipes were piled up in layers.
The edges of the pages were slightly curled from repeated flipping, and many places were densely annotated with different colors of ink.
At a glance, it was full of traces of deep research.
Flamel always helped silently by the side, occasionally pulling out one long-dusty ancient book after another from the tall bookshelf, and gently stacking them within Amster's reach.
Some recorded ancient blood incantations, some detailed the carrier changes in Alchemy, and others recorded various curse suppression cases, each of which just happened to fill the gaps in his current thoughts.
Perenelle delivered hot tea and fresh pastries three times a day on schedule, gently placing them in the corner of the desk, and quietly collected the empty cups and plates when leaving, her footsteps light and silent throughout, never disturbing too much, leaving only the most stable environment for the person concentrating on research.
Newt also occasionally pushed the door open, sat silently on the old chair in the corner, quietly flipped through his yellowed magical creature notes, occasionally looked up toward Amster's direction to confirm that he was doing well, and then lowered his head to continue his records.
Throughout the study, there was only the rustling sound of the quill sliding across the paper, just the right amount of quiet.
Nagini was still curled up on the rug by the fireplace in the living room outside the study, with her eyes half-closed most of the time, as quiet as a piece of sleeping dark green jade.
Ever since she drank the phoenix potion that afternoon and briefly revealed a human hand, the color of that patch of scales on her head had never fully recovered, always a shade lighter than the other scales around her body, faint like a shallow, non-fading mark.
Amster would set aside time every day, walk over to her, squat down, and gently probe once with extremely gentle magic, meticulously recording the size, luster, and magic fluctuation of the light-colored area.
Every set of data was written scrupulously, not daring to have the slightest omission.
On the evening of the third day, the daylight gradually darkened, and the firelight of the fireplace became the main light in the room.
Amster finally slowly put down the quill in his hand, laid out the latest version of the phoenix potion recipe side by side with the few pages of blood curse core analysis provided by Flamel on the desktop, repeatedly comparing and deducing over and over again.
He had long seen through it in his heart.
The foundation of the phoenix potion lay in vitality — using precise Alchemy to seal pure, gentle, and highly restorative life force into the potion liquid.
After a wizard or magical creature ingested it, it could quickly nourish the body, repair magical damage, and alleviate the effects of negative curse power.
But the blood curse on Nagini was never ordinary trauma or magic loss, but a deeply rooted "binding".
It was like the caster nailing their own Dark magic into her bloodline to set a firm anchor point, from which the curse took root in her body, flowing and growing with her bloodline.
The vitality of the phoenix potion could only temporarily suppress and ease it a bit, but it could never uproot it completely.
"What if we completely reverse the principle of the phoenix potion?"
Amster suddenly spoke softly, breaking the long silence in the study.
Flamel was pulling a thick book from the bookshelf. Hearing this, he didn't turn back, but calmly answered, "How to reverse it?"
"Instead of injecting vitality into the body to repair and nourish."
Amster gently tapped his fingertips between the two recipes, his tone steady and clear, "Instead, using the same Alchemy structure and the same forming framework, doing the reverse to 'drag' the curse entrenched in the bloodline out bit by bit, stripping away the excess Dark magic around the anchor point."
Only then did Flamel slowly turn around, his gaze falling on his face with a bit of serious scrutiny, "You want to use the phoenix potion as a skeleton and make another potion specifically targeting blood curses?"
"The phoenix potion is 'giving', it's injection."
Amster nodded, saying straightforwardly and firmly, "What I want to do is 'taking', it's extraction.
Stripping away the external magic entwined on the anchor point bit by bit, letting her bound bloodline untie first, and then slowly regain freedom."
Flamel was silent for a moment, neither agreeing immediately nor directly denying.
He turned and walked to the bottom layer of the bookshelf, squatted down to pull out an old leather book with extremely worn covers and almost blurry handwriting, gently patted off the thin dust on it, and placed it in front of Amster.
"This is the notebook I dedicated to studying curse stripping when I was young."
His voice was calm, "It records a lot of Alchemy ideas about 'extraction and stripping', but for so many years, I have never truly succeeded myself.
The path is open, but the carrier and proportions have never found the right ones."
Amster reached out and opened the old notebook.
Flamel's handwriting when he was young was neater and sharper than now, but the ink had long faded and turned yellow, and the handwriting in several places soaked by water was blurred, barely discernible.
He patiently turned page after page, his gaze suddenly stopping on a piece of parchment covered with complex Alchemy array diagrams.
Right in the center of the drawing was a complexly intertwined Alchemy symbol, next to which a clear line of small red writing was marked: "Curse Anchor — Directional Stripping Position".
"This general direction and this structure are correct."
Amster raised his eyes, his tone a bit more certain, "It's just that the carrier is used too rigidly.
The Alchemy array is rigid and fixed, but the curse is alive, flowing with the bloodline and fluctuating with emotions. We must use 'living carriers that can synchronize with magic changes' to match it in order to hold on and peel it away."
"Such as what?"
Flamel pursued.
"Just use the basic recipe of the phoenix potion as a carrier."
Amster casually laid out the two key pages side by side, one being the complete recipe ratio of the phoenix potionand the other being the stripping array diagram in Flamel's notes, "Keep the entire mature Alchemy framework of the phoenix potion, and replace all the raw materials responsible for providing vitality inside with materials that have a directional traction effect on the curse.
The new potion made this way will not nourish the body, will not replenish magic, but will only precisely target the curse anchor, stripping away the Dark magic attached to it bit by bit."
Flamel leaned down and stared at the two pieces of paper on the table for a long, long time, the firelight dancing gently in the depths of his eyes.
After a long time, he slowly straightened up, with a hint of approval in his tone, "You can give it a try."
Having obtained these words, Amster immediately began brewing that night.
He strictly followed the brewing steps of the phoenix potion—temperature control, stirring, feeding, and shaping, without a single step out of order. He only replaced the main materials originally responsible for providing vitality with moonstone essence and carefully processed Unicorntail hair, reconstructing the potion core with these two materials that had traction and neutralization effects on Dark magic as the core.
The firelight in the fireplace reflected on his face, his expression focused and calm.
The potion liquid in the crucible changed slowly under the scorching of the flame, gradually turning from transparent and clear to pale gold, and then after the last few steps of ingredients entering the pot, it turned into a slightly turbid grayish-green.
The first time, it failed.
The potion liquid suddenly solidified in the final step of shaping, forming a hard lump, charred black like burnt resin, without any usable magic fluctuations at all.
The second time, it still failed.
The potion liquid did not solidify and remained liquid, but after being boiled, it was calm and waveless, without any magic flowing through it.
It was just a mediocre pool of water with a light grayish-green color, having no effect on the curse at all.
Amster was not impatient. He cleaned up the crucible and started over from scratch.
During the third brewing, at the critical step when the potion liquid was about to form, he quietly added a miniature Alchemy symbol hand-drawn with ink—that was a symbol extracted after repeated deliberation from Grindelwald's letters, dedicated to "anchor loosening and magic stripping".
The moment the symbol entered the pot, the potion liquid in the crucible trembled slightly.
The original grayish-green turbid liquid slowly became clear, transforming into a layer of faint "silver-gray", with a soft light shimmering on the surface, looking both like slowly flowing liquid metal and a wisp of extremely thin, extremely gentle light mist.
The magic was stable, gentle, and directionally clear, no longer violent, nor dead silent.
"Done."
Amster said softly.
Flamel immediately walked to the table, lowered his head to gaze at the potion in the crucible, his eyes narrowing slightly: "Are you sure this is a stable finished product?"
"Before that, we must do an effect simulation first."
Amster was very cautious, carefully pouring the silver-gray potion liquid into a clean small potion bottle, plugging the cork tightly, and placing it on the table, " "
As soon as the words fell, Newt happened to walk in gently from outside the door, his gaze instantly falling on the glowing small potion bottle on the table.
"Is this the newly made potion you mentioned?"
"The curse slowing potion."
Amster's tone was calm as he gave the official name, "Its principle is completely opposite to the phoenix potion.
It does not replenish vitality, it only does one thing — directionally strip away the external Dark magic power on the curse anchor, untying first, and then slowly unbinding."
Newt silently squatted down, glanced at Nagini sleeping soundly by the fireplace, his voice soft with a hint of expectation: "Can it save her?"
Amster did not answer immediately.
Flamel beside him spoke gently, giving the answer for him, steady and powerful: "Yes.
But it will take time."
Outside the window, a full moon had quietly risen above the sea surface, and the crisp moonlight spilled over the rippling waves.
The entire Dorset sea surface shattered into a piece of shaking silver light, and the sound of waves drifted into the room leisurely and distantly, soft and steady.
Amster carefully put the bottle of curse slowing potioninto the desk drawer, gently closed the unfolded notebook, and tidied up the messy pages one by one.
Today's business ends here.
The rest can wait until tomorrow.