Chapter 561: Magic School Arrive 2
As the crowd’s gaze followed the three-headed dragon to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, another low, rumbling growl echoed from within the darkness, accompanied by a sucking, wheezing sound—like some great beast breathing in the shadows.
“By the lake! Look at the lake!” someone shouted from within the crowd.
The calm surface of the water suddenly erupted into towering waves. A pitch-black sailing ship burst through the surface, emerging like a ghostly vessel from legend—dim, eerie, radiating a sickly scent of decay that sent shivers down everyone’s spines.
From the ship, a tall, slender man with silver-white hair descended, leading his students toward the castle.
“Dumbledore, my dear old friend, how are you?” the man called out in a sugary, overly enthusiastic voice.
“Splendid, thank you, Professor Karkaroff,” Dumbledore replied with a smile.
Karkaroff ascended the slope, and as the castle’s lanterns illuminated him, his eyes flickered toward Ivan standing beside Dumbledore. His expression tightened slightly.
“Ivan Peter Pettigrewovich,” Karkaroff’s voice cracked like dry wood, teeth clenched. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Surprised?” Ivan said, beaming with false warmth. He clapped a massive hand onto Karkaroff’s shoulder, making the man stagger sideways.
“Igor, isn’t it lovely to see an old friend?” Ivan laughed.
A shadow flickered in Karkaroff’s eyes before he forced a smile that reached neither his eyes nor his heart. “Old friends… after so long, of course I’m delighted.”
Just as the atmosphere grew tense, a strange humming sound drifted from the sky—deep, rhythmic, like a giant windmill spinning high above.
“Merlin’s beard,” a first-year gasped, pointing upward. “What in the world is that?”
“A Fire Dragon… no, no, a giant bird…”
But as the object drew closer, the crowd realized with astonishment that what soared through the sky was a plump, round helicopter—barely over ten meters long, its cabin barely large enough for two.
It landed smoothly. On its side, bright letters glowed: Salem Academy. The hatch creaked open, and a tall witch stepped out, her deep-blue robes embroidered with stars and crescent moons.
Behind her came a strikingly handsome blond wizard, his face alight with a radiant smile. His deep-set eyes softened as they lingered on Hogwarts Castle, filled with quiet affection.
“Hello, Dumbledore,” the witch said, stepping forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“As it is for me, Madam Owens,” Dumbledore replied, bowing slightly and kissing her hand. “Your arrival method is most unexpected.”
“The Thunderbird is too unpredictable—makes people dizzy,” Owens said with a chuckle. “This aircraft is our latest innovation.” She turned to introduce the young man beside her. “This is Professor Antoine Moro, a three-time champion of the Dueling Tournament.”
“Greetings, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Antoine said, stepping forward and bowing formally.
“Welcome, Professor Moro,” Dumbledore said. “I hope you’ll find your stay at Hogwarts pleasant.”
“Indeed, I look forward to it,” Antoine replied, his gaze sweeping over the castle’s dark towers, then lingering on the students gathered at the staircase. A quiet, knowing smile played at the corners of his lips.
Wade shifted his gaze to the aircraft’s entrance. One by one, Salem Academy’s students stepped down—each wearing deep-purple robes adorned with silver-gray feathered serpent patterns.
Under Professor McGonagall’s guidance, several House students entered the castle to warm up.
“They’ve all gone inside to get warm,” Michael muttered under his breath. “Why do we still have to stand out here?”
“Some people love being first,” Padma said. “Others think arriving late makes them more important.”
Wade waved his wand. A stream of warm air spiraled from the tip, radiating heat across the ground. The students’ robes billowed gently in the rising warmth.
“Ah, much better,” Fred called from the Gryffindor line. “Brilliant, Wade!”
The warm breeze persisted. Harry, unable to resist, pulled his frozen hands from his pockets and held them out to the wind. “Feels like I’m inside an oven.”
“An oven?” Ron asked, frowning in confusion. “What’s that?”
The sky darkened abruptly. A massive shadow engulfed the entire lawn. Dumbledore looked up and smiled. “Looks like Mando and Akatim have arrived.”
People craned their necks, scanning the sky—but all they saw was a thickening layer of cloud.
Then, suddenly, a dense, inky-black cloud descended. As it neared the ground, its color softened, fading into something pure and luminous—like a moonlit cloud.
The mist parted, and a giant elephant stepped forward. Its massive feet made no sound as they touched the earth. Its long trunk swayed gently with each step.
Behind it, a carriage adorned with countless gemstones rolled forward, its golden bells swaying with each movement. Beside it hovered a richly decorated flying carpet, woven with intricate patterns. On it sat a dozen people, draped in vibrant silk robes, lounging or sitting cross-legged in relaxed ease. At the front stood a petite witch, her body adorned with feathered ornaments.
An elderly man with kind eyes and dark skin stepped out from the carriage. Short and unassuming, he wore a simple white robe. One by one, his students followed, all dressed in plain white cotton robes.
“Welcome, Professor Usha, Professor Sunil,” Dumbledore said, shaking hands with the woman once she extended hers. Then he embraced the old man, bending down to lightly press his cheek against the man’s.
“Peace be upon you, Professor Dumbledore,” Usha said.
“Thank you for welcoming my children, Albus,” Sunil replied. “May the True God bless you.”
At that moment, a cheerful drumbeat and rhythmic click-clack echoed from the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
A long, piercing whistle rang out—then, a dazzling train tore through the air, roaring forward. Its front bore a macaw mid-flight, wings spread, feathers shimmering. The train left behind a faint, silvery trail.
The doors slid open. A woman with sun-kissed skin stepped out, draped in a colorful cloak. Her neck was strung with multiple crystal necklaces, and she smiled faintly.
“Cavallo Headmistress!” Dumbledore spread his arms wide. “Your train is breathtaking!”
She laughed heartily and gave him a warm, enthusiastic kiss on both cheeks. “Albus! We sped up on purpose—couldn’t miss Hogwarts’ Feast! Come on, children—out!”
She called to the train.
A dozen students tumbled out, giggling. One leapt out, then immediately jumped back on. “It’s freezing! I’m gonna die of cold!”
Cavallo chuckled awkwardly, then turned and kicked each student off the train one by one.
Professor McGonagall glanced over. She noticed that Mando and Akatim’s students were shivering violently—having underestimated the weather in the Scottish Highlands in late October, they hadn’t brought a single thick cloak.
Without delay, McGonagall sprang into action, swiftly guiding both groups inside.
Before departing, Cavallo Headmistress asked, “We’re not the last, are we, Albus?”
“Not at all,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Only Wagadoo and the Magic Institute remain. But they’ll be here any moment.”
“Oh…” Cavallo arched an eyebrow, a faint, enigmatic smile tugging at her lips.
(End of Chapter)
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