The Difficult Establishment of Trust

Amelia was seized by panic.

It was not because three young wizards were pointing their wands at her, but because Remus had clearly warned her to keep a low profile after entering the country. She had entered illegally, and if the Ministry of Magic discovered her, things would become troublesome.

Yet she had been so unlucky. She had barely entered Britain and had not even had time to conceal herself before the locals discovered her.

Hermione stared at the exceptionally beautiful girl who had suddenly appeared before them, her heart still pounding with lingering fear.

Ever since Voldemort's return, they had indeed remained highly vigilant, prepared for serious incidents that could happen at any moment. But nothing had occurred these past days, and the peace the Ministry of Magic had desperately dressed up was indeed tempting enough to make them let down their guard for a while.

Otherwise, they would never have left the crowd's sight and climbed this secluded mountaintop alone.

But who exactly was this girl?

Hermione's delicate brows furrowed as she racked her brains. The girl did not look very old, perhaps only one or two years older than Percy at most. And she was undoubtedly a witch, which meant they might have attended Hogwarts together.

Come to think of it, Hermione's eyes trembled slightly. This girl's face did look somewhat familiar.

"I mean you no harm."

Amelia pressed her lips together, urgency in her voice. She had already caught sight of the majestic, magnificent black castle standing on the cliffs in the distance.

"Hand over your wand first," Harry said in a low voice.

Long years of training, along with facing his greatest enemy, Voldemort, again not long ago—witnessing Voldemort's resurrection and a series of cruel events—had made him mature considerably without his noticing. Even Amelia,