Chapter 336: Chapter 336
It was the weekend. The sun was dim, and the wind was dry.
Heavy snow fluttered outside the window. The wind blew from the north, carrying snowflakes that tapped against the glass with a soft, rhythmic sound.
Inside the dormitory, Lynn was once again the only one left.
Edgar and the others had gone to participate in "Dumbledore’s Army," organized by Harry Potter and his friends.
Speaking of that name, Lynn couldn’t help but want to laugh.
Dumbledore’s Army.
Abbreviated as D.A.
He didn’t know which "genius" had come up with such a name, one that made a perfectly legitimate study group sound like a private militia.
To anyone unaware, it sounded like some secret military organization specifically training a wizard army to attack the Ministry of Magic.
But Harry and the others clearly didn’t see it that way.
In Hermione’s vision, the name was meant to show their support for Dumbledore.
To tell everyone—
Even if the Ministry of Magic refused to admit You-Know-Who was back, and even if the Daily Prophet called Dumbledore a senile old fool every day, they believed in him.
We stand with him.
We are his army.
The word "army" had multiple meanings in English.
It could refer to an organized armed force, or a group of people gathered for a common goal.
Hermione chose the latter interpretation, but the first reaction most people had upon hearing the name was the former.
However, Dumbledore didn’t seem to have much of an issue with it.
Lynn remembered bumping into Dumbledore in the corridor that day. The old Headmaster had asked him, "Mr. Lynn, have you heard of a club called Dumbledore’s Army?"
Lynn had almost lost his composure then, but he held it back.
"I’ve heard of it, Headmaster. It’s a club for learning Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Dumbledore nodded and said, "Oh, that’s good."
And then he walked away.
At the time, Lynn felt that Dumbledore probably really didn’t care about such things.
He didn’t even care about the Minister for Magic, so why would he care what a student club was called?
Putting aside those idle thoughts, Lynn sat up from his bed.
He planned to head to the Forbidden Forest today to collect some materials.
His recent alchemy experiments had consumed too much, his stock was hitting rock bottom, and he needed to restock.
It had been a while since he visited the Acromantula.
He wondered if they missed him.
He got dressed, threw on a thick traveling cloak, tucked his wand into his sleeve, and grabbed several empty bottles and cloth bags from his drawer, stuffing them into his pockets.
Then he went to the door, pulled it open, and walked out.
The corridors were very quiet.
Lynn walked through one hallway after another, descended several flights of stairs, crossed the Entrance Hall, and pushed open the great doors of the castle.
A cold wind rushed at his face.
Snowflakes hit his face, cool and crisp. A few drifted into his collar and pressed against his neck, making him flinch from the ice-cold touch.
He pulled up the collar of his cloak and yanked his scarf higher to cover half his face, then stepped out into the snow.
The path leading to the Forbidden Forest was already covered in snow.
Lynn crunched forward, his feet making a squeaking sound.
His footprints left a trail of deep indentations behind him, but they were quickly filled by the fresh snowfall.
Walking along the path to the Forbidden Forest, the surroundings were silent when Lynn suddenly smelled a familiar scent drifting from afar.
The scent was strong, slightly fragrant, and quite heavy.
It smelled like rock cakes.
"Hagrid is back?"
Lynn turned his head toward Hagrid’s hut.
That wooden house, which had been silent for a long time, now had puffs of white smoke rising steadily from its chimney.
Reaching the door of the hut, Lynn stopped and looked at the familiar wooden door.
He raised his hand and knocked three times.
Thump. Thump-thump.
The familiar barking of a dog immediately came from inside.
"Shut up, Fang!"
Hagrid’s scolding voice followed.
The door opened, and Hagrid’s head appeared through the gap.
"Lynn!"
Hagrid sounded delighted.
"How did you know I was back?"
Lynn took half a step back and rubbed his ears.
"I smelled your rock cakes."
Hagrid blinked.
"I should have known," he said. "Come in, come in. It’s cold out there."
He opened the door a bit wider.
Lynn squeezed inside sideways.
Hagrid was so large that when he stood in the doorway, he filled the entire frame.
For Lynn to get past him, he had to turn sideways and be careful not to get snagged on that massive moleskin coat.
"Fang, get out of the way..." Hagrid said as he closed the door, gently nudging Fang aside with his foot.
Once Lynn was inside, Hagrid shut the door immediately.
With a bang, the cold wind and snow were locked outside.
There was a heavy smell of mildew inside, but Lynn didn’t have time to care about that.
His gaze was fixed on Hagrid.
He hadn’t noticed just now.
There were several patches of dark red clotted blood in Hagrid’s hair.
The blood had dried, matting the hair together into small, clumped knots.
His right eye also seemed a bit swollen, and he was missing two teeth.
He looked as if he had been severely beaten.
Lynn stared at Hagrid for several seconds.
"Hagrid... were you beaten up?"
Hagrid’s reaction was fast.
So fast it seemed like he had prepared the answer long ago.
"No."
He shook his head with an exaggerated motion.
"No way. Who could beat me?"
As he said this, his eyes avoided Lynn’s.
"If your eyes weren’t darting around while you said that, I might actually believe you."
Hagrid’s eyes darted even more wildly.
"It was... it was a dragon. I went to Romania..."
"Oh, Romania."
Lynn nodded.
"Perhaps my studies are lacking, but I’ve never heard of a dragon that prefers hand-to-hand combat. A new species?"
Hagrid’s eyes shifted even faster.
"I remembered wrong. It was a Sphinx."
"A Sphinx," Lynn repeated. "A Sphinx uses claws and fangs."
He paused, looking at the bruise on the back of Hagrid’s hand.
"That injury doesn’t look like it was made by claws, nor does it look like a bite. It looks more like it was made by a fist."
"Then it was a troll."
"A troll couldn’t beat you."
"I..."
Hagrid wanted to say more, but Lynn interrupted him.
"Let me guess, Hagrid."
Lynn’s tone was calm.
"First..."
He held up one finger.
"The one who hit you must be massive and have very high combat power. Otherwise, they couldn’t have beaten you."
As he spoke, he observed Hagrid’s expression.
Good.
His line of thought was correct.
"Second..."
He held up a second finger.
"You’ve been away from Hogwarts for so long, which proves the place you went wasn’t nearby."
"A long distance, massive size, high combat power..."
Lynn paused, looked into Hagrid’s eyes, and spoke the word slowly, emphasizing every syllable.
"Giants?"
Though it was phrased as a question, the certainty in his tone was unmistakable to anyone.
"Is it that easy to guess?"
Hagrid’s voice cracked with disbelief.
Then he shook his head violently.
"No, what Giants? I don’t know anything about that."
"Hagrid, are you testing my knowledge of magical creatures?"
Clang!
A copper kettle was slammed heavily onto the stove.
Hagrid stood by the stove, one hand still gripping the kettle’s handle, the other hanging at his side.
"Lynn," Hagrid’s tone became serious, "I really can’t say anything. It’s classified."
He didn’t turn around, simply standing with his back to Lynn by the stove, staring at the copper kettle.
Lynn looked at Hagrid’s back and fell silent for a second.
"Dumbledore sent you, didn’t he?" he said.
Hagrid’s back stiffened.
He didn’t say yes or no.
He just stood there, back to Lynn, motionless.
Lynn sighed.
"Fine, fine."
His tone shifted from serious to casual.
"Tea, then. Let’s have tea. I just wanted to know which side the Giants were on, but from your performance... most of them aren’t on our side, are they?"
...
After staying in Hagrid’s hut for a while longer, Lynn took his leave.
The door closed behind him.
With a bang, the warmth of the room and the cold of the outdoors became two separate worlds.
It was still snowing, and it was getting heavier.
Lynn stood at the door of the hut, adjusted the collar of his cloak, and set off to continue deeper into the Forbidden Forest.
He had walked less than ten steps.
A burst of red fire suddenly exploded in front of him.
Fawkes materialized from the light, tilting its head as it looked at Lynn and letting out a clear, melodious cry.
Lynn looked at Fawkes and fell silent for a second.
"Well, Dumbledore has something for me again."
Fawkes nodded, hopped closer to Lynn, and reached out a talon to grip Lynn’s shoulder.
After a dizzying whirl—
Lynn looked at the Dementor floating in the office, wearing its tattered black cloak, and asked in confusion, "Headmaster, have you decided to change pets? If so, leave Fawkes to my care."
Fawkes, perched on Lynn’s shoulder, pecked him directly.
It wasn’t heavy, but it stung.
"Aside from Azkaban, the Ministry of Magic does not allow Dementors to appear anywhere else, let alone be kept privately."
Dumbledore spoke calmly.
"Furthermore, taking care of Fawkes is not a complicated matter. I can manage it myself."
"Then this is..."
Lynn asked, pointing at the Dementor.
"I caught it near Hogwarts. I brought you here to ask it why it appeared here."
Lynn’s brow furrowed.
Near Hogwarts.
Dementor.
Those two terms together didn’t sound right at all.
Dementors were the guards of Azkaban. Their duty was to watch prisoners, not roam outside.
Their appearance near Hogwarts meant only two possibilities.
Either the Ministry had sent them, or they had escaped on their own.
"Why don’t you just ask Fudge?"
Dumbledore shook his head.
"I suspect something has gone wrong at Azkaban and the Ministry is hiding the news. Remember the message Lucius sent you a while ago?"
Lynn was slightly taken aback, then turned and walked toward the Dementor.
"Why are you here?"
The Dementor seemed quite wary of Fawkes on Lynn’s shoulder and suddenly retreated a large distance.
Lynn chuckled and directly held Fawkes in his hands as he walked toward the Dementor.
"Don’t be afraid. I just want to ask you a few questions."
The Dementor looked down at Fawkes in Lynn’s arms.
"Don’t worry. Just say what you have to say. He won’t do anything to you."
The Dementor wanted to retreat further, but its back was already against the wall.
"Gugugu... gu..."
Can’t get enough to eat.
Hungry.
Lynn’s eyes narrowed.
"Why are you hungry?"
"Gugu... gugugu..."
Food...
All gone.
Well, there was no need to ask further.
It was now a certainty that something had happened at Azkaban.
---
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