Friday is a very important day for the residents of Hogsmeade, especially the first Friday of the new term.

Because tomorrow is the first weekend after the summer vacation, when the senior wizards who have saved up a summer pocket money will carry a full wallet, and once the castle gate opens, the little ones will rush here non-stop, not letting them spend the last Nat in their pockets, and the natives of Hogsmeade will not let them leave.

Amosta, who hadn't been out all morning, could hear the noise on the main road dozens of feet away, standing at home.

The proprietress of the Three Broomsticks, Lady Rosmerta, is busy filling the empty cellar of Hagrid, the owner of Duke Bee's candy shop, Ciceron Haggis, and his shopkeeper Ambrosius Froome are changing the billboards of the products, and Mr. Bans, who has been slaughtered by Amosta, walks through the streets in a carriage carrying the latest magical items from the family's alchemy workshop.

The whole village was bathed in a joyful and thriving atmosphere, and in such a peaceful environment, even the tedious work of repairing the house made Amosta energetic.

The original owner of the house had provided food to the Hogwarts kitchen, and before leaving, he gave Amosta some of the ingredients stored in the cellar, which saved him a lot of worry.

When Amosta repaired the last broken glass on the window, turned around, and the screaming shed standing on the hillside suddenly jumped into view, Amosta, who was already covered in dust, thought for a moment and decided to strike while the iron was hot and clean up the research base he had booked.

In the summer and autumn breeze, the heat of summer vacation is gone, and Amosta climbs the grassy hillside step by step with a comfortable attitude, and the oncoming grass and earthy breeze makes him refresh again.

The Scream Shed is rumored to be one of the most haunted houses in England, and it is a little higher than the other houses in the village, because of the distorted legends, this dilapidated house looks a little creepy in the daytime, the only framed windows on all sides of the house are boarded up, and the small garden enclosed by the fence is similar to that of Potter's old house, overgrown with weeds and nettles.

Except for a few curious little wizards, the locals basically never come here, and Amosta circled the house without finding anyone's footprints.

The house was isolated on the highest hillside in the vicinity, with a wide view, except for the village to the south, the northwest to the end of the horizon was a continuous stream of uncovered hills, and a dozen miles to the northeast was an endless, black-pressed forbidden forest.

Amosta nodded in satisfaction, this kind of open terrain is not easy to hide, and any wizard who tries to get close cannot hide his eyes.

When he was at Hogwarts, Amosta had heard many horror tales of the Screaming Shed, and legend had it that on full moon nights, there would be terrible ghostly wails and ghostly whispers in the house, but Amosta was not one of the Gryffindor do-gooders, and this was the first time he had been near the haunted house.

Out of awe of those horrific legends, Amosta took out his wand, removed the door panel, and waited until the dust cleared before putting on the bubble head charm and slowly walking inside.

The condition of the room was similar to what Amosta had expected, the room was messy and gray, most of the wallpaper on the walls had fallen off, and all the furniture seemed to have been tossed around.

Amosta raised her brow slightly as she fixed her gaze at the still-intact wooden floor.

There were a lot of messy footprints on the dusty floor, and it seemed that there were a lot of rats living here.

After thinking about it, Amosta crouched down, lifted a broken plank, and observed the situation under the floor.

"Oh my!"

The moment the floor was lifted, a dozen frightened rats squeaked in horror and scurried wildly, and the spotted mangs who were corroding the foundations of the houses also squirmed and desperately fled, their eyes full of body and wary eyes staring at Amosta.

With the waving of his wand, invisible fluctuations swept through the air, and the escaped rats were all locked up by Amosta in a wooden cage he had conjured with a lampstand, which were very good test materials in the case of tight funds.

Fearing that they would end up with the rats, the Madlands had fled to change, and Amosta was a little distressed by the smoky little ones who looked and smelled like large fungi.

He knew that there was a descaling charm that would be effective in curing the spotted land, but only if there were only a limited number of them, and judging from the small space exposed by the lifted floor, the dark part of the house was estimated to be overgrown with spotted land, and Amosta was afraid that if the spell went down, the whole house would collapse.

After thinking about it for a moment, Amosta decided to live in harmony with these little ones, since this house had been holding on for so many years, there was no reason why he couldn't hold on to it as soon as he moved in.

"The Great Land Project--"

Amosta muttered.

The wine rack that separated the living room and kitchen had collapsed, and the claw marks and tooth marks left on the broken wooden planks seemed to be the work of a canine, and Amosta guessed that it might be the stray dogs of the village or the wolves in the neighborhood that had done it, and after throwing a spider the size of a teapot into the wooden cage, Amosta withdrew his gaze and continued walking towards the house.

The doorway to the only bedroom on the first floor was blocked by a few rotten logs, the room was littered with the remains of furniture, and the ornate lamps on the ceiling had fallen.

The situation in the whole room was more or less like this, and Amosta, who had returned to the living room, glanced at the collapsing staircase leading to the second floor in the living room, and was not interested in going upstairs to check it out.

Amosta does not have high environmental requirements for the research site, as long as there is no one to disturb and there is a test bench and a chair.

Smack!

With a crisp snap of fingers, a whirlwind of light rolled up the overturned wine rack, and in a rapidly spinning phantom, a wooden chair with a backrest appeared in front of Amosta, and he followed him into the kitchen with a tap-dancing pace.

Surprisingly, the monstrous dripping spouts in the kitchen still sprayed brilliant brown sewage, and Amosta let the cold jets of water wash the cobweb-entangled stone basins, and his eyes fell on the kitchen counter, the only piece of furniture in the room that might still be intact.

"Oh, a boggart...."

Amosta, crouched down, glanced through the gap in the sliding door and muttered to himself.

He took two steps back and gently flicked his wand, the rusty sliding door of the pulley struggling to open after a series of screeching sounds, and a dark shadow slammed out of the moldy crocky compartment, but before the boggart could make a big move, Amostali waved his wand again. ŴŴŴ.

Bang!

With the sound of a balloon popping, the hapless Boggart was blown to pieces by Amosta.

"So--"

After making sure that there were no other living creatures in the kitchen and hallway, Amosta shook his neck and rolled up his sleeves.

"House-elf Amosta Bryan is officially online!"

..................

It was still late at night, and the brightly lit Gryffindor common room was still noisy, with Wizard Chess, Gobstone, the Weasley brothers' jokes, Quidditch, Professor Lupin and Professor Blaine, Blake who had once again escaped from the Ministry of Magic, and, at lunch, Dumbledore and the professors discussing things in secret, these topics were everywhere among the young wizards of Gryffindor.

"You're saying--"

Under the ornate chandelier near the fireplace, Hermione's handsome cheeks, who had not had time to remove the pile of tomes she was carrying, flashed with seriousness,

"Malfoy's parents have been threatened by the Dark Wizard?"





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