There Will Be No Third Dark Lord At Hogwarts!!!

Chapter 321: Chapter 321

Saturday.

After a busy week, Lynn finally welcomed two days of complete relaxation.

The sunlight outside the window streamed through the gaps in the curtains, casting several golden light spots on the floor, where fine dust motes floated leisurely.

Since it was relaxation, an indispensable activity was, of course, sleeping in.

Without the constraints of classes, it wouldn’t be Lynn if he didn’t sleep until noon.

He had already told Edgar and the others last night that no one was allowed to wake him today; even if the sky fell, it could wait until he woke up.

Edgar had asked at the time, "What if the Castle catches fire?" Lynn, without even opening his eyes, rolled over and said, "As long as it doesn’t burn me."

At this moment, he was lying spread-eagled on the bed, the quilt kicked to one side, the pillow askew beside his head, his hair a bird’s nest, and his breathing steady and long.

Then, with a bang, the dormitory door was suddenly pushed open from the outside.

The sound exploded in the quiet dormitory.

Lynn sat up abruptly from the bed, his hair sticking up even higher, his eyes not fully open, his expression somewhere between "What happened?" and "Who’s looking for death?"

He blinked, his vision slowly focusing, and looked at Edgar, who had just returned from outside.

Edgar stood at the doorway, his chest heaving violently, his face flushed red, and his fists clenched tightly.

"What happened? What got you so angry?" Lynn rubbed his eyes, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

He reached out, pulled the pillow over to prop behind his back, leaned against the headboard, and yawned.

Edgar scratched his head irritably.

His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t know where to start, finally blurting out: "That pink toad is simply too much!"

Lynn:???

He blinked, taking two seconds to realize who the "pink toad" referred to.

Then he turned to William, his eyes questioning.

William sighed and began to recount in as calm a tone as possible.

"We went to the Dueling Club this morning."

Lynn nodded. He had been to the Dueling Club a few times before, but later felt that fighting people was less interesting than fighting fish, so he stopped going much.

But Edgar and the others always went, especially Edgar, who went every Saturday without fail, saying he needed to stay in shape.

In his words, "You can’t not practice. Professor Moody said that Dark Wizards won’t wait for you to memorize your Spells before attacking."

"Originally, we were practicing Spells just fine. Everyone was practicing their own thing on the field. Professor Flitwick was also there; he taught some new Defense Against the Dark Arts techniques today, and everyone was practicing quite seriously."

Lynn continued to nod, signaling William to continue.

"Then Umbridge came. She held a parchment, walked into the club, stood in the center of the field, and said she was going to announce some regulation.

Professor Flitwick asked her what the regulation was, but she ignored him and directly told everyone to stop and listen to her."

Edgar snorted beside him, a barely suppressed anger in his voice.

William glanced at him and continued: "She said that this club seriously threatened the safety of Hogwarts students and announced the closure of the Dueling Club.

From today onwards, any unauthorized activities involving Spell confrontations between students are strictly prohibited."

"Parchment?" Lynn asked.

William nodded. "She said it was some... Ministry of Magic Educational Decree Number Twenty-Two?

She read it aloud, the gist being that the Ministry of Magic had the right to supervise extracurricular activities at Hogwarts, and any activity that could endanger student safety must be approved by the Ministry of Magic.

The Dueling Club was not approved, so it had to be closed."

"What kind of rubbish Educational Decree!" Edgar’s anger flared even more.

"Her Defense Against the Dark Arts class is useless, and now she wants to close the Dueling Club! What does that rotten class teach? Reading textbooks!

For two whole classes, she just made us read textbooks! She didn’t even teach a single Spell! Now she won’t even let us practice privately? Why not!"

The more he spoke, the more agitated he became, his face growing redder.

He paced back and forth in the dormitory a couple of times, then stopped abruptly and pulled out his Magic Phone from his pocket.

"I’m going to call my dad!" he said through gritted teeth. "Tell him to impeach that b*tch Umbridge!"

Lynn’s eyelid twitched, and he grabbed Edgar’s hand reaching for his phone.

"What are you doing?"

Lynn let go of his hand, leaned against the headboard, and looked at him with an expression that said, "Are you an idiot?"

"Do you want your dad to lose his job? There’s a two-rank difference."

Edgar blinked, his confusion deepening, as if he was trying to understand what Lynn meant.

"What two-rank difference?"

Lynn was also stunned. "Isn’t your dad the Head of the International Magical Law Office?"

A Head of Office impeaching a Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic. What else would that be but a two-rank difference?

Edgar’s expression changed.

The confusion on his face dissipated, replaced by an embarrassed smugness.

"That was before. My dad got promoted again a while ago."

Lynn’s eyebrows raised slightly.

"He’s now the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation." Edgar enunciated the words "Head of Department" very clearly, as if afraid Lynn might mishear.

Lynn’s eyes widened.

"How did he get promoted so quickly?"

The Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation was no ordinary official position.

There were only a few departments in the Ministry of Magic in total.

Edward was the Head of Office last year, and this year he became a Head of Department?

Edgar chuckled. "Wasn’t the former Head of Department Arthur a Death Eater?"

His voice dropped a little when he mentioned "Head of Department Arthur," probably feeling it was inappropriate to bring up a deceased Death Eater.

"After you dealt with him, the Head of Department position was vacant for a while. My dad was nominated and elected because of his good connections."

Lynn was silent for a moment, then quietly got out of bed and got dressed.

"Then you can take your time complaining; I’m going fishing."

Saying that, he walked to the wall, picked up the fishing rod from the corner, and headed out of the dormitory.

As he walked, he mumbled something about "meddling in other people’s business" and similar phrases.

...

Arriving at the shore of the Black Lake after a long time, Lynn was particularly excited.

Sunlight scattered on the water, shimmering as if someone had sprinkled a handful of crushed gold on the lake surface.

He stood on the rock he most often stood on by the lake, looking down at the Black Lake that had accompanied him for four whole years.

Four years. He had gone from a Black Lake novice who couldn’t even catch a fish to—well, still an old hand who couldn’t catch a fish.

But that wasn’t important.

What was important was that, after several years of Black Lake fishing experience, he had come to a conclusion:

The fish in this Black Lake don’t like float fishing.

Float fishing is the method where you sit on a small stool, set up your fishing rod, stare at the float, and wait for a fish to bite.

He tried for four years and came up empty for four years.

So, Lynn, having learned from his painful lessons, decided to try a different fishing method—lure fishing.

The angler casts the artificial bait, then, by reeling in the line, makes the artificial bait simulate the swimming, struggling, and fleeing movements of a small fish in the water, luring larger fish to bite.

This fishing method doesn’t rely on luck, but on skill—on judging the water currents, analyzing fish conditions, and manipulating the artificial bait.

Of course, it also relies on physical strength.

But Lynn lacked none of these!

He glanced at the enormous lure rod in his hand, feeling very pleased.

He had specially commissioned a craftsman to customize this rod during his vacation. The rod body was a composite of Walnut wood and dragon nerve, making it light yet sturdy, with excellent flexibility.

The guide rings were coated with Mithril, incredibly smooth, allowing even the thickest fishing line to pass through easily.

The reel seat was wrapped in dragon hide, providing an excellent grip that was neither slippery nor sticky.

The reel had been modified with Alchemy, producing a faint, pleasant hum when reeling in the line.

He hooked the artificial bait onto the snap, checked the knot, and confirmed there were no problems.

Then he took a deep breath, spread his feet apart, and stood firmly on the rock.

Activating [Thousand Refinements], Lynn felt like he could now cast a fish all the way to the Forbidden Forest with one swing.

He gripped the rod handle with both hands, flicked the rod behind him, and the rod body bent into a breathtaking arc. Immediately after, he twisted his waist and exerted force with his arms—

Whoosh—

The artificial bait, with the fishing line, traced a perfect parabola in the air, flying into the distance.

The arc was high and far, crossing the shallow water near the shore, crossing the weed bed, crossing the deep water area he had never reached before, and finally—

Ding.

Lynn looked into the distance, only seeing a small ripple spreading on the water surface, which soon disappeared.

He nodded with satisfaction.

This cast was far, accurate, and beautiful enough.

Lynn reeled in the line, one slow, steady, rhythmic pull after another.

The rod tip gently tapped above the water surface, and the fishing line created fine ripples in the water.

Just as he was simply enjoying the pleasure of this long cast, a voice erupted from behind him.

"What are you doing!"

Lynn’s hand paused, and he tightened his grip on the fishing rod.

"Who allowed you to fish here!"

The voice was closer. Lynn could hear small footsteps on the rocks, tap-tap-tapping.

He slowly reeled in the last few turns of line, then turned around.

Dolores Umbridge’s eyes were wide, her chin slightly raised, looking at him with an expression that said, "You’re in big trouble."

Lynn impatiently glanced at her.

"Fishing."

"I see that!" Her voice rose. "I’m asking—who allowed you to fish here!"

Lynn thought for a moment.

"No one allowed it," he said. "Hogwarts has no rule against fishing."

Dolores Umbridge’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step forward.

"Hogwarts rules? Mr. Lynn, I believe you should have already seen the Educational Decree on the bulletin board.

The Ministry of Magic has the right to supervise all club activities at Hogwarts—including fishing."

Lynn was directly angered into laughter.

"Fishing is considered a club activity?" he asked. "Fishing is considered an activity that threatens student safety?"

Dolores Umbridge’s smile froze for a moment.

"Of course," she said. "Any unauthorized activity conducted within the school that could pose a threat to student safety falls under the Ministry of Magic’s regulatory scope. Fishing—"

She glanced at the fishing rod in Lynn’s hand. "—is, of course, no exception."

Lynn looked down at the fishing rod in his hand.

"Then I want to apply," he said.

Dolores Umbridge was stunned. "What?"

"Apply for fishing." Lynn’s tone was very serious. "You said it needs approval, so I’ll apply. Where do I get the application form? Who do I submit it to after filling it out? How long does the approval take?"

Dolores Umbridge’s mouth opened, then closed again.

She clearly had no answer to this question.

In her imagination, Lynn should have been reprimanded, then obediently put away his fishing rod and slunk away.

Not standing there, asking her in a businesslike tone, "Where do I get the application form?"

"This... takes time. The Ministry of Magic’s approval process is very strict; you can’t just apply whenever you want."

Lynn nodded, with an expression that said, "I understand."

"Then how long will it take?" he pressed. "A week? A month? A semester?"

"Mr. Lynn. I suggest you put away your fishing rod. Until approval is granted, no form of fishing activity is allowed on the Hogwarts lake."

Lynn looked at her.

She also looked at Lynn.

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds.

Then Lynn nodded.

"Alright," he said.

He put away the fishing rod, coiled the line, and took off the artificial bait, stuffing it into his pocket, his movements unhurried.

Dolores Umbridge stood beside him, watching him put away the fishing rod, her expression relaxing slightly.

She seemed to feel that her authority had been confirmed, order had been maintained, and this disobedient student finally knew fear.

Lynn put away his fishing rod, slung it over his shoulder, turned around, and walked towards the Castle.

After a couple of steps, he stopped again and looked back.

"Professor Umbridge."

Dolores Umbridge was standing on that rock, looking down at the lake, lost in thought. Hearing Lynn call her, she looked up, her face once again bearing that smile.

"Yes, Mr. Lynn?"

Lynn looked at her.

"Where do I get the application form," he said. "Should I pick it up from your office? Or do I need to go to the Ministry of Magic myself?"

Dolores Umbridge’s smile completely vanished.

Lynn waited for about two seconds.

Seeing that she didn’t answer, Lynn nodded to himself, "Then I’ll come to your office to get it first."

Then he turned around, carrying his fishing rod, and slowly walked towards the Castle.

---

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