Qingling Is Coming

Crash!

With a sweep of his wand, the collapsed beams, tiles, brick walls, and rubble in the courtyard rose into the air as though time had reversed. Amid sharp cracking sounds, they rapidly repaired themselves, and in the blink of an eye, the exquisite two-story house had been restored to its original state.

As wisps of silvery light were gradually extracted from his temple, Delix's hateful and terrified gaze turned vacant. At last, his head lolled to one side, and he fainted.

The bright moonlight was obscured by a passing dark cloud, plunging the earth into gloom. On the balcony of the neighboring yard, a Muggle family that had been admiring the moon grumbled unhappily, then got up, carried their chairs inside, and returned to the house.

Once their backs had vanished from sight, Amosta flicked his wand and sent the unconscious Delix floating back to his bedroom before removing the barrier.

The fresh, cool breeze pouring into the yard dispersed the smoke and dust hanging in the air. Amosta took a deep breath, dispelled the gloom and killing intent surrounding him, glanced at the glass bottle glowing silver in his palm, and vanished amid a faint burst of air.

"Run into trouble, Amosta?"

By coincidence, when Amosta appeared on the street where the entrance to St Mungo's was located, Dumbledore, who had been about to pass through the dusty display window of that red-brick department store, seemed to sense something. He turned to look down the deserted street in the dead of night, stepped back behind a lamppost standing at the roadside, and the next second, Amosta emerged from behind it.

"Your perception of magical fluctuations is admirable, Headmaster Dumbledore."

After that polite expression of amazement, Amosta smiled and walked toward Dumbledore, whose hands were folded over his abdomen.