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

Chapter 342: Chapter 342

Early one morning, shortly before Christmas, the sky had yet to fully brighten.

Hogwarts Castle remained shrouded in deep blue twilight, resembling a sleeping behemoth curled among the mountains of the Scottish Highlands.

The castle gates had been left slightly ajar. Dim yellow candlelight peeked through the gap, creating a small yet comforting glow amid the biting morning mist.

Lynn walked in from outside.

Floating behind him was a pile of equipment—a fishing rod, a bucket, a folding chair, an ice axe, and a large box filled with various types of fishhooks.

The bucket was empty, empty, empty.

Important things had to be said three times.

The expression on Lynn’s face was incredibly gloomy, as though someone owed him a million Galleons.

He had originally intended to take advantage of yesterday afternoon’s good weather for a unique session combining ice fishing with night fishing.

The weather had indeed been excellent—clear and windless, with temperatures five or six degrees below zero. The ice covering the lake had also been just thick enough for him to drill a hole through it.

He had brought plenty of charcoal, a kettle, a thick blanket, a folding chair, and all the equipment he needed to sit comfortably on the ice throughout the night.

He had even brought along a notebook on alchemy, intending to read a few pages while waiting for the fish to bite.

The result?

Not a single fish had bitten, but he had finished reading most of the notebook.

He had been fishing from three o’clock yesterday afternoon until nearly dawn today. Those tiny fish and shrimp seemed to have conspired against him, taking turns nibbling at his hook before darting away, only to return and repeat the process in an endless cycle.

He felt as though he had been fighting a group of kindergarteners—there would have been no glory in winning, while losing was even more humiliating.

It wasn’t as though he could use Crucio on those tiny fish and shrimp, could he?

Just as Lynn was considering whether to add a potion to the bait—perhaps some kind of potent lure whose scent no fish could resist—the sound of hurried footsteps came from the corridor.

Lynn looked up toward the source of the noise.

Not far away, Ron was frantically rushing toward him, his face filled with anxiety.

Harry and Hermione accompanied him, looking equally worried. Harry’s face was even paler—so pale that Lynn wondered whether he had lost too much blood.

The three of them ran up to Lynn and stopped. Each bent over with their hands on their knees, gasping for breath.

"Good morning, everyone."

"Good morning, Lynn." Hermione spoke even faster than usual. "Something urgent has happened, and we need your help."

Ron nodded vigorously beside her.

"Please. I really need your help right now."

Lynn scratched his head and looked from Hermione to Ron, then from Ron to Harry, confusion written all over his face.

He couldn’t imagine what kind of urgent matter Ron could possibly need his help with.

Ron’s emergencies usually involved things such as my wand is broken again, I haven’t finished my homework, or Hermione is ignoring me again.

None of those things required Lynn’s assistance.

"Help with what?"

His gaze settled on Harry’s face. He had a feeling that this matter most likely concerned him.

"Help us get out of the school."

Lynn immediately turned around and began walking away.

What a joke.

If the old Headmaster discovered that Lynn had helped them sneak out of the school, he would be so furious that he might come back solely to snap Lynn’s fishing rod in half.

Seeing Lynn about to leave, Harry became so desperate that he stopped leaning against the pillar.

He lunged forward and grabbed Lynn’s sleeve.

"I just had a nightmare," Harry said quickly, his voice filled with urgency. "I dreamed that Mr. Weasley was about to be attacked by a giant snake."

He paused and drew a deep breath.

"We have to go and save him."

After hearing that, Lynn wanted to leave even more.

"Wait... You want me to help you escape from school because of a random nightmare? Are you joking?"

He brushed Harry’s hand from his sleeve, his stance firm.

Harry grew even more desperate and shouted at Lynn’s retreating back.

"Everything I said is true!" he yelled. "I have proof! Before You-Know-Who was resurrected, I dreamed about the place where it happened!"

Lynn stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Harry.

"Is that true?"

Harry nodded vigorously.

"It happened before you saved me in the Triwizard Tournament maze," he said, lowering his voice slightly. "I saw it in a dream."

Lynn stood there thoughtfully.

Harry Potter.

The savior.

Could he truly possess some kind of special magical talent?

Seeing that Lynn had actually stopped to consider the matter, Hermione finally spoke again.

"Lynn, can you help us?"

Lynn still shook his head.

"Sorry," he said calmly. "I still can’t help you."

The hope in their eyes immediately dimmed.

"But you can tell me the location," Lynn continued, his tone shifting from outright refusal to negotiation. "I’ll go and save Mr. Arthur myself."

The three of them were stunned for a moment.

Hermione was the first to respond.

"That would be wonderful," she said. "You’re a better fighter than all three of us combined. It would be much better if you were willing to go."

Harry and Ron considered it and realized that she was right.

Lynn’s combat ability was indeed greater than that of the three of them combined.

It wasn’t merely a possibility. It was a certainty.

"Then stop wasting time!" Lynn suddenly raised his voice. "Give me the address!"

Harry jumped at the sudden shout.

"The... Ministry of Magic. I don’t know which corridor. All I saw were blurry stone walls, torches, and blood."

The location couldn’t possibly have been any vaguer. The Ministry of Magic contained countless corridors and even more torches.

Lynn stared silently at Harry for a second before turning toward Ron.

"Ron," he said calmly, "I need to borrow some of your blood."

Before Ron could react—what did he mean by "borrow some blood"? Why did he need to borrow his blood? What was he planning to do with it?—Lynn had already waved his wand.

An almost invisible beam of light shot from its tip.

Ron felt only a slight sting in his finger before a thin cut appeared.

Blood seeped from the wound and gathered into a large droplet that shimmered dark red in the morning light.

Lynn waved his wand, and the droplet rose from Ron’s finger before hovering in the air.

With his other hand, he removed a glass vial from his pocket and guided the drop of blood inside.

"What are you—"

Ron didn’t have the chance to finish his question.

A burst of golden-red fire erupted around Lynn, shining so brightly that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had to squint.

The light illuminated the entrance hall for a second, then dimmed before disappearing completely.

Lynn was gone.

Only his equipment remained floating where he had stood, resembling a group of children forgotten by their owner as they hovered helplessly in midair.

Gulp—

Someone swallowed hard.

It was most likely Ron, judging by the movement of his throat. The sound was so loud that even the portraits hanging on the walls seemed to hear it.

"Did... did Dumbledore give his phoenix to Lynn?"

...

Elsewhere, Lynn appeared in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic amid a flash of golden-red light.

It was early.

So early, in fact, that there wasn’t a single person in the Atrium.

The employees who hurried through during the day, the visitors taking photographs beside the fountain, and the guests lining up for the lifts—none of them were present.

Lynn stood there and surveyed his surroundings. After confirming that no one had seen him, he raised his wand.

It couldn’t be helped. What he was about to do might not be entirely legal.

Moving quickly, he flicked his wrist, causing the tip of his wand to trace an arc through the air. The glass vial floated steadily before him.

Lynn stared silently at the vial for a moment.

A mass of pitch-black light emerged from the tip of his wand.

It poured outward like a drop of ink compressed to the extreme, slowly spreading through the surrounding air. Even the nearby light seemed to dim in its presence, as though something invisible were devouring it.

The mass of pitch-black light instantly enveloped the drop of blood.

At the same time, Lynn began muttering an incantation.

It was a lengthy spell in which the emphasis, duration, and pitch of every syllable mattered. If a word was mispronounced, the spell would have no effect. If it was recited too slowly, it would backfire. As for what would happen if the incantation was inaccurate...

Lynn had no idea.

He had never tried it before.

He had discovered the spell in the Black family library, hidden within the appendix of a book titled Forbidden Bloodline Magic. It had been written in such blurred script that it almost seemed as though the author hadn’t wanted anyone to read it clearly.

Fortunately, Lynn had his cheats.

Once he finished the lengthy incantation, the drop of blood began to change.

It was no longer liquid.

Within the black light, it stretched, distorted, and condensed, transforming from a shapeless mass into a solid black arrow.

The arrow hovered in the air, trembling slightly as though waiting for something.

Then it moved.

Whoosh—!!!

Accompanied by a sharp whistling sound, the arrow traced a black path through the air and flew directly toward the stairs.

Lynn didn’t hesitate.

He immediately set off after it.

He followed the arrow down to Level Nine, where it left the stairwell and entered a corridor.

"It seems this is the place."

Lynn was just about to wave his wand and dispel the magic when he realized that he was already one step too late.

"Ahhh!"

A scream came from the far end of the corridor.

Lynn hurried toward the source of the sound.

There, he found Arthur Weasley.

Arthur lay on the floor, drenched in blood from head to toe. His body was curled inward, and several terrible bite wounds were visible across it.

The largest wound extended across his chest from his left shoulder to his right ribs, making it look as though something had torn him open with its teeth.

The mangled flesh had split apart, revealing dark red muscle and white ribs beneath.

Blood gushed from the wound as though a floodgate had opened inside his body, spilling out uncontrollably.

A second wound extended along his arm, running from his upper arm to his wrist as though it had been torn open by claws. The flesh had split apart, exposing dark red muscle and pale tendons.

A third wound marked his calf. It was smaller than the others but deep enough to expose the bone.

Lynn’s pupils contracted.

He quickly drew his wand and pointed it at Arthur Weasley.

"Blessing of Dittany."

A gentle white light poured from the tip of his wand, enveloping Arthur’s body and sustaining his life.

"Silver Radiance Flow."

Another stream of light emerged from the wand, brighter and purer than the last, like the first ray of sunlight on a winter morning.

It covered Arthur’s body, flowing across his wounds and bloodied flesh.

Slowly, the edges of the wounds began to close.

Lynn put away his wand and breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Levi, take us to the School Infirmary."

Golden-red flames erupted throughout the corridor.

In the next instant, both figures vanished.

...

That morning, nearly the entire castle heard Madam Pomfrey’s shrill scream.

The sound came from the School Infirmary, piercing through thick stone walls and closed wooden doors before assaulting the eardrums of everyone who was still asleep.

"Merlin!"

"Who did this?!"

"Get him onto a bed! Gently! Don’t touch his wounds!"

"Bring me the Blood-Replenishing Potion! Get the bandages! Bring the potions!"

"Quickly! Quickly! Quickly!"

A frantic flurry of footsteps echoed throughout the School Infirmary.

---

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