On a clear night, the stars shimmered brightly, like countless brilliant silver beads, densely inlaid in the deep black night.

But the strange thing is that the moonlight that should be bright and pure is graceful, and in the hazy light and mist, there is an abnormal red, like a blood-stained hand gently brushing over the moonlight.

A brisk wind rushed from the vast Forbidden Forest towards the castle, gently pushing open the sash of Amosta's windows, and the red-dyed moonlight slipped in, casting a red halo on the dark brown floor of the dormitory.

The stone box on the desk had been half-opened, and the box seemed to have the magic of devouring light, but the light of the candlestick had penetrated but not a trace escaped, so the other half of the box was still black, and it was impossible to see what was inside.

Amosta leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the thumb-sized glass bottle pinched by his fingers, the silver mist in the bottle slowly swirling like a spinning Milky Way.

It was a stripped bottle of memory, owned by Amosta, but he didn't know exactly when he had left it.

This morning, when Professor McGonagall met Harry Potter, a message automatically popped up in his mind, telling him that he had hidden something very important under the floor of the dormitory, and that he had to retrieve it as soon as his memory was restored, and that the condition for triggering the message was to see Harry Potter in person.

Why did you set such a condition back then?

Amosta stared at the brilliant silver mist, pondering the question, and suddenly, his heart beat faster, and a possibility came to mind.

"Could it be that the memory in this is related to the plot of Harry Potter, and for so many years, I have not been able to trace my past life about the Harry Potter plot The reason is that I have stripped this memory with my own hands?"

Amosta muttered, but then he shook his head again, rejecting his guess.

What is the biggest advantage of the traverser, it is nothing more than knowing the plot in advance.

Knowing the plot means avoiding all dangers and benefiting himself in advance, and no matter what happens, Amosta believes that he will not give up such a huge advantage.

Actually, Amosta could have blended directly into this memory, so that his doubts could be answered, but cautiously, he did not dare to try it lightly.

Memories represent a person's past and experiences, and to some extent they can even change a person's personality, and Amosta is not even sure whether the information in his mind was left behind by him back then, or if it was forcibly instilled by someone else with memory magic.

If it's the latter, then the caster will inevitably expect that he will retrieve and integrate it into his memory after seeing that message, if he implants some false information in his memory and deliberately misleads his actions...

Of course, anyone who has the ability to forcibly extract his memories and modify them will probably not have to go through this bother, and it may be much easier to control his actions directly with magic.

But Amosta still can't ignore this possibility, he was still in school back then, he was not as powerful as he is today, it is not impossible to be hacked.

After hesitating for a long time, Amosta decided to give up on integrating memories for the time being, his attainments in memory magic were not outstanding, if the memory in the bottle had been modified by a master who specialized in memory magic, he might not have this eyesight to perceive, rather than taking risks, it would be more appropriate to find a memory master to help him make an appraisal.

Are there any masters at Hogwarts who are proficient in memory magic?

Amosta thought to himself, Dumbledore must be one, but unless he made two bowls of elixir in a row, he would definitely not make such a stupid choice.

After putting the memory bottle close to his body, Amosta stood up and pulled open the half-hidden stone lid, and he stared at the contents of the box silently, the faint candlelight hitting his face, making his expression look obscure.

One of the four giants who founded Hogwarts thousands of years ago, the founder of Ravenclaw House, Rowena Ravenclaw's beloved object, a treasure that represents the two beautiful qualities of calmness and wisdom, is lying quietly at the bottom of the box.

Now, however, the treasure is rubbish with black, dry scabs on the surface, split in half.

Ravenclaw's crown had been lost for thousands of years, and Amosta did not know how much effort Voldemort had to take to find it, but he expressed his indignation at Voldemort's efforts to make such treasures into Horcruxes.

Amosta can imagine what kind of waves it would cause if this thing appeared in the underworld, and countless wizards of the ancient genre with the same origin as the magical power of the Big Four would probably be willing to exchange all their net worth for it, and even, at the cost of bloodbathing the richest Malfoy family in the wizarding world, just to scrape together enough Galleons to buy it.

Obviously there is only one step away from achieving financial freedom, but he must destroy this opportunity with his own hands, and now that he thinks about it, Amosta's heart is blocked.

Speaking of destroying the crown with your own hands, it is another question worth pondering.

Amosta clearly remembered how he found the crown, and he could feel the remnants of the fierce aura on the crown drenching his magic, but the memory of destroying the crown was vague, and as for why this happened, the answer was probably in the small vial memory just now.

"Back to normal!"

Amosta pointed at the crown with his wand, and the two old, faded crowns lying in the palm of his hand trembled for a moment, then regained their composure.

This is not surprising, although the powerful black magic attached to the crown of the Horcrux has been melted by the fierce fire of Amosta, but the crown itself still contains strange magical power, and it is not so simple to restore a legendary magic item with powerful magical power.

"Is the crown really as rumored to be, possessing the magical power of conferring unimaginable wisdom on its bearer?" Amosta guessed.

At least Voldemort must not have discovered the power of the crown itself, otherwise he would not have acted so violently.

"Take it first," Amosta said to herself, "try gluing the crown with adhesive another day, and maybe the wizards of the genre who aren't quite in their right minds won't be able to see it!" ”

The cold snap outside and the hot air inside formed a hot and cold convection, and the strong wind crackled the open window sash to the ground, and Amosta walked to the window and closed it, and his eyes were surprised to see an oil lamp staggering out of the Forbidden Forest and jolting towards Hagrid's hut.

"--Hermione Granger must have told Hagrid about my return to Hogwarts as an Inquisitor, but I'm afraid the wrong word was mistaken for the Ministry of Magic... Something is not quite right,"

Amosta frowned, thinking back to the morning meeting.

Hagrid seemed nervous about the news, but it was strange, what was there to be nervous about, could it be that he thought the Ministry of Magic had ordered me to go back to Hogwarts to trouble Dumbledore?

Or maybe he actually knows something about the Slytherin chambers... Even, is there a direct connection?

Amosta pursed her lips and stared at Hagrid's cabin with a deep gaze.

After a moment of thought, Amosta looked at the candlelit room in the tower not far away and shook his head, as Professor Snape said, Dumbledore may not be as noble as people think, but he did not allow anyone to hurt the students in the school, and the trust he showed in Hagrid was enough to show that Hagrid was not suspicious.

"Mr. Headmaster must have been collecting the Dark Lord's Horcruxes by now..."

Amosta closed the curtains, muttering as he walked back, "If he's willing to recover the broken Horcruxes, for Professor Snape's sake, I can give him a fair price!" ”