There was another important reason Harry held that belief.
Vison had once told him that during his school days, professors occasionally designed interesting challenges for students. These challenges came with rewards, encouraging students to test their magical capabilities. However, what Harry failed to realize was that professors would never design something as dangerous as Fluffy as part of a student challenge.
Harry decided that once he had learned enough magic, he would return to the room on the fourth floor and try again.
As for Fluffy? Gollum might have a way to handle the creature. Even if he couldn't defeat it, Gollum could still protect them, just as he had last time.
It was the day before Christmas. Today was the day Mr. Vison was set to depart for America.
In the afternoon, to avoid interference from the protective enchantments around Hogwarts, Vison arrived outside the castle gates. He brought with him only a standard-sized suitcase. Of course, it wasn't an actual suitcase—it was a cleverly disguised portable portal.
Once everything was ready, Vison reached into his pocket and grasped a silver teaspoon. In an instant, he felt a tug at his collar.
When he opened his eyes, he was already somewhere else.
As expected, the Portkey worked like a charm—simple, convenient, and usable at any time. Vison looked around and found himself in a spacious corridor. Since he had been here before, he confidently walked into a nearby room marked "Foreign Personnel Reception (New York)."
The room was modestly furnished. There was a wooden desk, two chairs, and a fireplace in the corner.
"Good morning, sir," a middle-aged man behind the desk greeted weakly. "You're the first one today."
Vison took the seat in front of the desk, smiling warmly. "Still on duty this year, Mr. Blount?"
The man sighed and fished a form from a stack of papers. "I'll never understand why we use a coin toss to decide the Christmas duty roster. Ah—Eldrein Vison, is it? I still remember your name."
"Yes, sir," Vison replied politely.
Mr. Blount handed over the form, which required Vison to fill in his details and planned itinerary.
Once completed, Mr. Blount reviewed it briefly before saying, "Same as before, Mr. Vison—I'll need to inspect your luggage."
Vison handed over the suitcase obediently.
While inspecting it, Mr. Blount grumbled, "These days, everyone uses Undetectable Extension Charms on their luggage. It's made our jobs so much harder. A few years ago, we found a whole collection of magical creatures stuffed inside an old wizard's trunk…"
"I didn't do that," Vison reassured him with a smile.
Of course, he hadn't used an Undetectable Extension Charm. His suitcase was a disguised portal. Even detection spells crafted specifically for Extension Charms wouldn't reveal its true nature.
After the inspection, Mr. Blount nodded. "All clear, Mr. Vison. Would you like to use the fireplace?"
"Absolutely."
Blount handed him a small bag of Floo Powder. "Wizards from England do love their fireplaces. Best of luck, Mr. Vison."
"Thank you," Vison said, stepping into the fireplace.
"Tia Morrison General Hospital," he said clearly.
A burst of green flames engulfed him, and then he vanished.
Tia Morrison General Hospital—one of the most prestigious medical institutions in the American wizarding world—was where both of Vison's parents worked. The main hall was as deserted as always. Despite its fame, the hospital's high fees meant that few wizards came here unless absolutely necessary.
"Adeline—"
A familiar voice called out beside Vison.
His adoptive mother, Lia, hurried toward him from a side corridor. She wore a dark green healer's robe, her brown-black hair loosely tied back. Her face glowed with a smile.
"Mom," Vison greeted warmly, embracing her.
He glanced around, puzzled by the absence of his father. Normally, his father would accompany his mother to welcome him.
Lia noticed his glance and sighed. She gently straightened his messy collar. "Your dad heard yesterday that a rare herb had been found in the market nearby. You know how he is—he just couldn't wait. Honestly, he's such a headache sometimes…"
Vison nodded. That was typical of his father.
Still, he understood. Everything his father did was for the sake of treating Ariana's condition. That made his obsession understandable.
Then, as if flipping a switch, Lia's tone turned stern.
"And you—I've told you so many times to write every few months. Do you listen? No! Nine months and three days without a single letter!"
Same old mom. Her nagging was oddly comforting.
After enduring the lengthy lecture, Vison finally asked, "How is Ariana? Has there been any change?"
Ariana—Vison's younger sister.
A curious coincidence: she shared the same name as Ariana Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore's sister. It was perhaps because of this that Dumbledore had always taken a special interest in her during her time at Hogwarts.
Lia's face fell at the mention of her daughter. She shook her head slowly. "Still the same. Still unconscious."
Vison nodded. It was what he expected.
"I'll go see her."
"She's in Ward 18. Same as before."
Lia led the way. They walked down a corridor lined with dark blue carpeting. After several turns and climbing two staircases, they reached a room with a "No Entry" sign hanging on the door.
Inside, the room was quiet. A bed, a small wooden table, and a modest Christmas tree occupied the space. A gap in the heavy curtains let in a sliver of sunlight, casting a warm beam across the room.
Ariana lay peacefully on the bed. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady.
She had the same blue eyes and dark brown hair as their mother. Over the years, her appearance had remained unchanged. Her youthful face retained the soft, delicate features of a girl, as though time itself had frozen around her.
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