The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 40 What Happened That Night

Outside Hogwarts Castle, the cool moonlight shone on the grass, outlining two tall figures standing opposite each other.

Lynch stared intently at Snape's face. The moonlight illuminated his pale cheeks, made even more so by the aftereffects of the potion, and his dark eyes appeared even more profound in the night.

Snape remained enraged and did not answer Lynch's question.

His bloodshot eyes were still staring at Lin Qi.

Lynch's expression remained unchanged, calm yet serious, staring directly into Snape's eyes without any hesitation.

He waited quietly for Snape's answer.

Snape's jawline tightened, and reason gradually returned to his mind.

But reason did not bring him back to his senses; his heart was still filled with an extremely repressed, chilling anger, directed not only at Lynch but also at himself.

She was angry at herself for making the decision to observe and listen more and speak less when facing Lin Qi, yet he still managed to easily break through her defenses.

So even though his reason told him that he should answer and wait for Lynch's response to find out what Lynch was thinking.

His anger led him to do the exact opposite.

Snape, his voice strained with barely suppressed anger, said to Lynch, "Just a lackey sent by the Dark Lord to test me! I can handle that!"

After saying that, he stared intently at Lin Qi with a cold, scrutinizing gaze, and then, without waiting for Lin Qi's response, he swung his sleeves and walked straight back to the castle.

Snape's answer reached Lynch's ears, and after a moment's thought, he understood the meaning behind it.

He watched Snape's departing figure with a knowing look in his eyes.

Poor Severus...he was completely unaware.

Dumbledore didn't tell him any real information about Professor Quirrell; he had no idea that Voldemort was right there on the back of Professor Quirrell's head.

Dumbledore only told Snape: Was Quirrell Voldemort's henchman sent to test him...?

He continued to ponder Dumbledore's purpose in doing so.

Why do this... Headmaster Dumbledore...?

Are they worried that Snape will reveal a weakness?

No, Snape wouldn't reveal his true colors to Voldemort; he had the ability to hide himself from him.

Was it because they were worried that Snape might do something irrational in the face of a weakened Voldemort?

That's right, that's how it is.

Voldemort was, after all, the murderer of Lily, and when he was shown his weakened state to Snape, it was almost impossible for Snape to rationally let him go.

But Snape didn't know that Voldemort, who possessed Horcruxes, could not be killed.

Therefore, it was correct not to tell Snape the truth, but only to tell him that Quirrell was Voldemort's henchman.

Only in this way can Snape complete the tasks assigned to him by Dumbledore brilliantly and faithfully.

He should play the role of Snape, a loyal follower of orders who secretly fights against Voldemort's henchmen.

This is the Snape who best meets the current requirements.

That way, Voldemort wouldn't realize he had been exposed.

That would make it more likely that one would fall into that carefully laid trap.

This almost ruthless calculation to achieve one's goal is truly beyond the reach of ordinary people...

A cold smile appeared on Lin Qi's lips. The night wind ruffled the black hair on his forehead. He reached up again to smooth the hair, then turned and walked towards the Forbidden Forest.

......

Meanwhile, deep within Hogwarts Castle.

In a dimly lit room shrouded in heavy curtains and the pungent smell of garlic, Professor Quirrell knelt on the floor, trembling.

His purple scarf lay scattered to the side, revealing the back of his bald head.

At that moment, the skin on the back of his head writhed eerily, and a blurry, snake-like, flat, and hideous face was pressed against his scalp. Thin, blade-like lips opened and closed, and a cold, hoarse, inhuman voice came from that mouth.

The owner of this face was none other than Voldemort, whom Lynch and Dumbledore had been longing for.

"...that new course instructor...that man...is Jim Lynch..." Voldemort's voice hissed like a venomous snake slithering across a dead leaf, carrying a barely perceptible air of gravity.

Why would he appear at Hogwarts...? Dumbledore spared him?

Impossible... My magic should have genuinely affected his mind... By the time Dumbledore received the message... he should have already truly fallen into darkness...

Someone like that... Dumbledore wouldn't show any mercy...

...But why is he at Hogwarts now...?

...Something's not right..."

Professor Quirrell knelt on the ground, his body trembling uncontrollably. Hearing Voldemort's questioning voice, he mustered his courage and asked, "Master... is there anything... special about that Jim Lynch?"

According to what I just heard, he was just an insignificant student at Hogwarts, and didn't even graduate normally...

If Dumbledore hadn't suddenly announced that he was being asked to return as a professor, many people wouldn't have even remembered his existence...

"Ha!" Voldemort let out a short laugh, then said sarcastically, "...that...you...so-insignificant...student..."

Ten years ago... there was a resounding name known to everyone in the magical world—the Mist Executioner!

Quirrell trembled even more violently, his inner shirt soaked with cold sweat. "Master...Master...The...The Hangman? That Jim Lynch...is the Hangman?...But he's so...young? How could he...be the Mist Hangman?"

Voldemort's flat, grotesque face twisted slightly: "...No one ever imagined...that the hangman who suspended so many corpses...would be a student who was still studying at Hogwarts at the time..."

...But I discovered his secret...in that valley...I trapped him...I shattered his mask...and saw his face...

So young...yet already possessing such astonishing power...

...His style of doing things...his personality...darkness flows in his veins...he should have been my sharpest weapon...

Unfortunately...it seems...my guidance failed...he foolishly resisted his destiny...and failed to recognize his true place..."

Hearing Voldemort's praise of the hangman, a twisted feeling of jealousy rose in Quirrell's heart; he hated those brilliant geniuses the most.

He said maliciously, "My master spared his life because he pitied his talent... Since he doesn't know what's good for him... then I... I can... solve this problem for you..."

"Foolish!" Voldemort uttered the rebuke, and Quirrell's kneeling body convulsed violently as he spoke.

Voldemort is punishing him for his reckless decision.

After a while, he stopped punishing Quirrell.

Quirrell lay helplessly on the ground, like a fish out of water, but he still struggled to get up and barely managed to kneel down.

"Like Dumbledore... the Hangman... is not someone you can deal with... you just need to... do your job..."

While reprimanding Quirrell, a series of questions churned in Voldemort's mind.

The fact that the executioner is now at Hogwarts means that his plan from ten years ago had not succeeded, or at least not completely succeeded.

At the same time, his appearance has brought tremendous changes to his current plans.

"Things... have become more interesting, but also more complicated..." Voldemort's voice trailed off. Punishing Quirrell and excessive thinking had made him weaker, and he needed to fall asleep to recover his energy.

Before falling asleep, he made a decision: "We need to be more cautious, Quirinas... lie low. Put away your little tricks for now and focus on playing your poor professor role. Stay put for a while, observe... observe patiently."

Quirrell felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and immediately prostrated himself even lower, his voice trembling with tears: "Yes...yes, my master! I will...I will be careful!"

Voldemort closed his eyes, and his狰狞 (zhengning, meaning ferocious or hideous) face returned to calm.

Professor Quirrell staggered to his feet, picked up his purple scarf, and carefully wrapped it around his head again.

......

Gryffindor Tower.

The warm common room was now empty, with only a faint red glow remaining from the fireplace.

At this moment, in the boys' dormitory draped with red curtains, Harry and Ron lay in bed, preparing to drift off to sleep and bid farewell to this long day.

But Harry was still a little excited and couldn't sleep.

So he pulled Ron aside and chatted casually, describing what he had seen and heard on his first day of school and sharing his feelings.

On the other bed, Ron responded to Harry in a half-hearted manner.

His pet, Banban, was placed on the bedside table and was currently munching on a nut, making a soft, continuous crunching sound.

The nuts were from the Great Hall dinner, and Ron had filled half a bag with them, piling them up next to Scabbers.

"I'm curious about what magic classes are like," Harry said, gazing at the bedspread above his head, lost in thought.

"Like...that..." Ron's eyelids were drooping. He tried to respond to Harry, wanting to fight off sleep and chat with him, yet also wanting to succumb to sleep and drift off to dreamland.

"I can't wait to take those classes!" Harry was still full of energy. "Charms is the class I'm most interested in. I don't know how to cast spells yet, and I want to learn them quickly and become a real wizard."

"...Very...good..." Ron's reply grew weaker and weaker.

"I'm also very curious about that new course Dumbledore announced," Harry continued rambling. "What was it called again?"

Oh right, it's called the Magic Research Class.

I'm very curious about what it will study.

Studying magic?

But we came here to learn magic, so why do we need to create a separate course to study it?

And that professor, he looks so young, younger than all the other professors.

He must be very capable, otherwise he wouldn't have become a professor at such a young age.

While the other professors wore robes, he wore a suit, looking nothing like a wizard, but rather like a Muggle lawyer or businessman in London.

What was his name again?

Jim... Jim Lynch!

He kept staring at me as I entered the auditorium, which made me feel very strange.

And the head of Slytherin House, Professor Snape, the way he stared at me was also very strange.

They were both very strange.

Ron, do you think it's because I'm the 'boy who survived' you mentioned?

That's why they kept staring at me?

But none of the other professors kept a close eye on things like the two of them did.

really weird.

"Isn't that right, Ron?"

"..." Ron had completely stopped responding.

"Ron...Ron..." Harry leaned over Ron's bed and called softly twice more, only to find Ron already fast asleep.

So he took off his glasses, closed his eyes, and lay back down in bed.

After a while, he also fell asleep.

But he didn't notice when Jim Lynch's name came out of his mouth.

The soft gnawing sounds that had been coming from Ron's bedside stopped.

Scabbers, a mouse missing a toe, had lived in the Weasley family for almost ten years. Its fur was dull and dirty, and it stood frozen in place.

Having been a mouse for so long, all his past memories have become blurred. Sometimes, he even forgets everything about his past and truly considers himself an ordinary pet mouse.

He even followed Ron back to Hogwarts, back to Dumbledore's very nose.

But at this moment, a fear from the past enveloped him.

Jim Lynch!

That damned hangman is still moving around freely!

We're at Hogwarts right now!

The Dark Lord has fallen, but Dumbledore and that terrifying hangman are still here!

And they are all at Hogwarts right now.

He recalled his act of betrayal and its consequences.

The mouse's tiny body trembled violently.

No!

I need to hide myself well!

We must not let anyone find out!

We must not appear in their sight!

Let me live on as the rat Spotted!

That night in Gryffindor dormitory, the Gryffindor traitor made a decision.

......

After that not-so-pleasant walk with Snape.

Lin Qi walked alone into the Forbidden Forest under the moonlight.

Along the way, he passed by a huge, rugged, yet surprisingly warm little house on the edge of the forbidden forest.

Lin Qi glanced at the small house, as if he remembered something, then turned and walked towards it.

I walked up to the wooden door and raised my finger to knock.

"Who's outside? Please wait a moment," a gruff voice came from inside the hut.

With a bark of excitement from Tooth, Hagrid's massive figure appeared in the doorway, bathed in warm yellow light.

Hagrid looked quite surprised when he saw who was standing outside the door, and he instinctively avoided Lynch's gaze.

"Professor Lynch!" After the instinctive greeting, he seemed a little flustered, wiping his large hands on his mud-caked mole-skin coat. After hesitating for a while, he finally spoke, "Please...please come in! Professor Lynch! It's cold outside!"

"Then I'll have to bother you." Lin Qi smiled and did not refuse Hagrid's invitation.

He stepped inside.

The cabin was warm and slightly messy, with something simmering on the stove, emitting a rich aroma.

Ya Ya squatted at Lin Qi's feet, wagging its tail happily.

Hagrid frantically tried to pour tea for Lynch, the huge teapot appearing small and delicate in his hands.

"No need to trouble yourself, Hagrid." Lynch's voice was gentle, with his usual reassuring smile on his face. "I was just passing by when I suddenly remembered that I needed to ask you for a favor, so I took the liberty of bothering you."

He glanced around the cabin, his gaze sweeping over the strange plant seeds, the enormous crossbow bolts, and a wisp of unicorn tail hair hanging from the roof.

Hagrid immediately straightened up, patted his chest, and his expression became serious and forthright: "Just tell me, Professor Lynch! As long as it's within my power!"

Lin Qi nodded and began to speak.