King's Cross Station.
In the concealed unloading platform, Amosta had just seen off Kingsley and the others as they headed for the station platform.
Professor McGonagall, who had intended to enter the battlefield alongside them and fight the Death Eaters, had been sent by Amosta to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
He turned and walked into the train loaded with gold coins, into the command room in an otherwise empty carriage.
Typhoeus was staring in shock at the shifting images on a black screen inside the carriage.
It showed Diagon Alley, where both sides were rapidly gathering. Even through the screen, the suffocating, murderous tension spilled forth.
"Well? Isn't this thing interesting—"
Amosta's sudden voice startled the absorbed Typhoeus. He sprang up from the sofa, raising his cane before him as he stared in alarm at the wizard entering the carriage—a handsome man with sharp brows and bright eyes, a faint smile on his face.
Amosta Breen!
According to the official information released by the Ministry of Magic, this wizard was not yet twenty-five.
A twenty-five-year-old wizard whose exploits, throughout the history of magical civilization, were surpassed only slightly by Albus Dumbledore—he was practically a monster!
"I... I already—"
"Don't worry—"
Seeing Typhoeus so frightened that he could barely speak, Amosta waved a hand and smiled gently.
"We're on the same side, aren't we?"
The same side...
Typhoeus's tightly pressed lips moved slightly, and a trace of surprise rose in his heart.
A magical genius rare even throughout the ages, famous at such a young age—Typhoeus had assumed Amosta Breen would be an exceedingly arrogant wizard in private. He had not expected him to be so down-to-earth.
Sneaking a glance at Amosta, Typhoeus found him examining Thanatos, who lay unconscious on the sofa. An inscrutable, strange smile