The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 348 End Possibility (5.2K) (1/2)

As night fell, the aftershocks of the riot gradually subsided amidst exhaustion.

At the edge of the camp, Lynch stood alone in the dissipating mist, his dark eyes reflecting the last few flickering flames in the distance.

He turned and headed toward the tent area where the riot had been quelled.

Deep in the woods, Crouch held his son, who was sealed by a spell, tightly in his arms, his steps heavy yet unusually firm.

Scrimgeour's Auror force conducted a final sweep of the camp, finding little to show for it. He stood amidst the chaos, his face ashen, for the troublemakers had vanished before he arrived.

Lucius Malfoy Apparated back into the manor's foyer, the warmth of the fireplace unable to dispel the chill in his eyes. Narcissa and Draco greeted him, their faces still showing lingering fear. Lucius said nothing, but went straight to his wife and children, embracing them tightly with a quick, forceful embrace, as if trying to assure himself of safety in that familiar warmth, to dispel the chilling tremor that emanated from the thick fog of the camp and those dark eyes. This brief embrace betrayed all his forced composure.

Inside the Weasley family tent, the light was warm. Percy had returned safely and was excitedly telling his father about Mr. Crouch's concern for him. The twins whispered in a corner, while Ginny dozed off beside her mother. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances, a strange excitement hidden beneath their weariness. Mr. Weasley and Sirius leaned against the doorway, only realizing the trouble was temporarily over when Lynch returned.

The Black Mark had long since vanished, as if it were merely a collective nightmare.

The initial panic gradually gave way to lingering fear and discussion. People began to clean up the mess, treat the injured, and search for lost items. Officials from the Ministry of Magic moved among them, their voices hoarse from staying up all night, trying to restore order and provide explanations.

On the horizon, the first true rays of dawn struggled to pierce the clouds, tinged with a dim gold. They illuminated the scorched earth, the muddy campsite, and countless faces etched with confusion and exhaustion.

This long, chaotic night, torn apart by demonic fire, mist, and green light, has finally come to an end. Some wounds need to be soothed, some secrets need to be buried deep, some fears have been awakened, and some decisions will quietly alter the course of the future.

As the sun rises fully, the world will try to pretend everything is normal, but only those who have experienced it firsthand know that some things have been completely changed last night.

The riots on the night of the Quidditch World Cup final have come to an end.

But the ripples and storms it stirred up have only just begun to spread violently outwards.

Fear, like the most stubborn plague, quietly spread among the ordinary wizards who witnessed or heard of the riots that night.

The reappearance of the Black Mark evoked the most painful memories of those who lived through the Dark Ages, and revealed the legendary horrors to the younger generation in a tangible way. Conversations in the tavern were hushed, parents kept a closer eye on their children, and business in Diagon Alley seemed to have slowed down. The skull and snake motif was more than just a prank or a symbol; it became a heavy cloud hanging over everyone's hearts, a reminder that "that person" might not really be gone.

Accusations from the international magical community followed one after another.

On its own turf, in front of 100,000 wizards—including many foreign tourists—such a heinous terrorist attack and symbolic provocation made the British Ministry of Magic's incompetence the target of ridicule in the International Confederation of Wizards' briefings and on the front pages of magical newspapers around the world. Under pressure, Minister Cornelius-Fudge and his cabinet desperately needed a fig leaf. Fortunately, or rather, a stroke of luck amidst misfortune, the newly appointed Director of Enforcement, Amelia Burns, "acted decisively" and successfully "apprehended" several "suspected dark wizards" involved in the riot. These individuals were swiftly convicted afterward, becoming the Ministry of Magic's achievement and evidence of "resolutely cracking down on dark magic" and "effectively controlling the situation." Although the source and process of these "achievements" were carefully obscured, they at least shielded them from some questioning and accusations.

However, the real epicenter of the public opinion storm was not the Ministry of Magic's somewhat weak defense, but the Daily Prophet's extensive, half-truthful, and highly inflammatory reporting.

While the newspapers sensationalized the panic caused by the Dark Mark and questioned the Ministry of Magic's security capabilities, they also devoted more attention and speculation to another equally unsettling "supernatural phenomenon" that night—a thick fog that swallowed light, blocked sound, and seemed to possess life.

The report cited "numerous eyewitness testimonies" describing how someone precisely rescued the injured in the suddenly rising fog, and how they mysteriously appeared and disappeared.

The author skillfully guides the reader, connecting this fog with an older, more chilling legend.

"The Mist Executioner".

The newspaper, in a tone that was half revealing and half intimidating, revisited this long-dormant codename, suggesting that this extrajudicial arbiter may never have left and was "maintaining order" in his own way during the most chaotic times. The article was full of innuendo and association, satisfying the public's curiosity about mysterious forces while also exacerbating a deep-seated unease about the existence of "uncontrolled and powerful forces."

What embarrassed the Ministry of Magic the most was that the Daily Prophet seemed to have inside information from the interrogation room.

The report explicitly states that some of the arrested suspects confessed in the Auror offices that they were not defeated by the Ministry of Magic, but rather subdued by "the ghost in the mist," "the chains of the hangman," or "the cold hand of the mist."

The leak of these details makes the Ministry of Magic's official claim of "Aurors bravely quelling the rebellion" seem weak, even laughable.

These confessions from the suspects became the most compelling evidence for the Daily Prophet to prove that the "Hanger" had actually intervened in and led part of the suppression, making the Ministry of Magic's claim of "Aurors' heroic suppression of the rebellion" seem like a joke, and indirectly confirming the rumors of the "Hanger's" reappearance. The more the authorities tried to take credit for themselves, the wider the whispers spread that "the one who really solved the problem was that unnamed ghost."

Thus, public attention was cleverly divided in two, or even more: one group was gripped by fear of the Death Eaters and Voldemort's return; another group both revered and feared the mysterious and unpredictable "Hanger"; and the Ministry of Magic, caught between this double shadow and the pressure from domestic and international public opinion, appeared to be struggling to maintain its credibility, which, like the burned tents in the Quidditch arena, was riddled with flaws.

Meanwhile, on the fringes of the somewhat noisy public discourse, another newspaper quietly came into view.

The Stone Tower Merchant Guild—a business organization that gained prominence in recent years through game cards and subsequently built a reputation among pragmatic wizarding families with high-quality alchemical items, a stable supply of potions, and a good track record—made a low-key but far-reaching decision: to officially separate its newsboard section, which primarily published guild news and practical information, and create the Stone Tower Daily.

Thanks to the Chamber of Commerce’s well-established logistics network, the new newspaper was delivered free of charge to the doorsteps of many wizarding families that had dealings with them or were located in their service areas.

The Quidditch World Cup camp riots naturally became the front-page headline of the inaugural issue of the Daily Stone Tower.

However, its reporting style is quite different from that of The Daily Prophet.

The article, written in a calm and straightforward style, traces the key moments of the riots chronologically, citing official data released by the Ministry of Magic, such as the number of injured and preliminary statistics on property damage. It objectively states the fact that the Dark Mark appeared, as well as the Ministry of Magic's subsequent arrests and cleanup measures.

Regarding the controversial dense fog, the report only briefly mentioned that "according to some eyewitnesses, there was an unusually dense fog with extremely low visibility at the camp that night, the origin and nature of which are still under investigation," without mentioning the speculation about the "hanger" or any sensational legends.

This reporting style, which strives for objectivity, avoids sensationalism, and lacks explosive speculation, seems too "bland" or even "boring" in a time filled with panic and morbid curiosity.

It neither satisfies people's desire to peek into internal secrets nor provides a simple and crude outlet for emotional outbursts.

Therefore, despite being free and readily available, the inaugural issue of the Stone Tower Daily did not instantly capture everyone's attention or spark street gossip like the Daily Prophet. Many wizards glanced at it quickly and then set it aside, their attention still firmly drawn to the more impactful and topical reports in the Daily Prophet.

However, a small number of readers who value facts and are tired of the Daily Prophet's long-standing biased reporting style have noticed the differences in this new newspaper.

They might keep it as a reference for gaining another perspective.

This new newspaper, born amidst turmoil and with a distinct style, is like a pebble thrown into a lake of clamorous public opinion; the ripples are small, yet it quietly marks a different area of ​​water. Its future—whether it will sink silently or reveal its unique value at some point—only time will tell.

But the uproar in the public sphere, international criticism, or the birth of the Stone Tower Daily were not things that Lynch was concerned about at the moment. He had another problem that had been weighing on his mind for some time and needed to be dealt with.

Hogwarts was deserted during the holidays, with only the faint echo of his own footsteps on the stone walls. He went straight to the entrance guarded by the dripping stone beast. Without uttering a command, the beast seemed to recognize him and silently turned to make way for him.

The spiral staircase slowly ascended, leading him to the oak door.

The door opened silently.

The afternoon sun slanted in through the tall arched windows of the principal's office, making the floating dust motes look like tiny sprites and giving the buzzing silver instruments a warm golden hue. The air was filled with the scents of old books, parchment, and a faint aroma of sweets, a stark contrast to the smoke, dampness, and panic that had filled the camp the night before.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his deep blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles gazing gently at Lynch, who had just been carried up the spiral staircase. The phoenix Fawkes hummed melodiously from its perch.

Two cups of black tea sat quietly on the table, steam rising gently.

"Good afternoon, Professor Lynch," Dumbledore said calmly. "I suppose you need something more refreshing than Lemon Sherbet after last night? Of course, I also have some good black tea here."

Lin Qi walked to the table, sat down, and nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster Dumbledore." His response was concise, his gaze sweeping across the office before finally settling on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore gently pushed a cup of tea toward the empty seat across the table, placed his hands on the table, and his gaze became slightly more serious.

“Professor McGonagall has told me what she knows about last night,” he said slowly, his tone less accusatory and more of a concerned confirmation. “About the sudden riot, the reappearance of the Dark Mark, and—the appearance of the fog. She said you went to deal with the trouble at the camp and did a very good job.”

He paused slightly, his azure eyes fixed on Lin Qi, as if trying to read something from the other's calm expression.

"I trust her judgment. However, if you'd like to share some details—especially about the chaos that was promptly contained and the subsequent handling—it would be helpful. After all, it concerns the safety of many people and our subsequent assessment of the situation."

Dumbledore was very careful with his words.

He affirmed Lynch's actions and mentioned the "stopped chaos" and "follow-up handling," clearly suggesting that Lynch's role in the fog went beyond simple intervention and also hinted at the origins of the Death Eaters "captured" by Amelia-Borns.

Lynch understood Dumbledore's implied meaning.

He remained silent for a moment, his gaze falling on the slightly swirling black tea in his cup, then he looked up to meet Dumbledore's expectant gaze.

“A few names,” he began, his voice steady and clear, revealing little emotion, “Nott, Carlo, Avery—all old faces who escaped punishment back in the day thanks to Galleons, lies, or connections in high places, and who didn’t get completely ruined in Azkaban. They’ve gathered some stragglers, hoping to create a stir in the crowd, so that everyone—especially the Ministry of Magic—will ‘remember’ their importance.”

He paused briefly: "I happened to be there. In that situation, letting them run wild wouldn't end well. So, I intervened where necessary." His words remained concise, downplaying a potentially bloody crackdown as merely necessary intervention.

"However," Lynch changed the subject, his tone still calm, "I wasn't the only one who intervened last night. There were many capable and responsible wizards in the camp who spontaneously protected others, guided the crowd, and extinguished the fires during the initial chaos. Although the Aurors were caught off guard and reacted slowly at first, Scrimgeour later led his forces to press forward and managed to control the key points. Once the Ministry of Magic's subsequent forces were fully available, the situation finally stabilized."

"I didn't want any credit, so I gave the prisoners I took down to those in need."

39

Dumbledore listened quietly, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.

Lynch's account largely matched the information he pieced together from other sources, and also confirmed Professor McGonagall's observations. He particularly noticed the extremely subtle chill in Lynch's tone when he mentioned "the Muggle administrators."

"I understand." Dumbledore nodded. Lynch's decisive action prevented the worst outcome, although he might not entirely agree with sending all the prisoners to St. Mungo's.

"Thank you for your timely action, especially for protecting innocent lives. Ms. Burns has only been in office for a short time, and her situation is indeed delicate. If this can help her to have a clearer voice within the ministry, it may not be a bad thing."

He changed the subject, his gaze becoming even more profound: "So, Professor Lin Qi, you came to see me today not just to tell me about last night, right?"

Lin Qi didn't answer immediately. He picked up the slightly cool black tea in front of him, took a small sip, as if he were organizing his thoughts, or perhaps weighing the ripples his next words would cause. The only sound in the office was the soft hum of silverware turning.

"I've come today, Headmaster Dumbledore," he finally spoke, his voice a few decibels lower than before, "to address something that has been weighing on my mind for months, even longer. Last night—seeing Mr. Crouch standing alone in that clearing, beneath the traces where the Dark Mark had just faded, that thought became inescapable again."

Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, his fingertips touching, a knowing glint in his azure eyes, as if he had already sensed the serious direction the conversation was taking.

"I understand. So, what exactly is this thing that you can't avoid?"

"His son, Barty Crouch Jr.," Lynch said the name directly, his dark eyes staring straight at Dumbledore without flinching. "More than a decade ago, shortly after Voldemort was severely injured and disappeared after Lily sacrificed herself to cast a spell that rebounded from his wounds, this fanatical young Crouch, along with a few accomplices, committed an extremely cruel act that shocked the entire wizarding world."

The air in the office seemed to freeze suddenly.

Fox fluttered his wings restlessly on the perch.

A portrait of a former principal on the wall emitted a slight hissing sound.

Dumbledore's eyes behind his half-moon spectacles suddenly became incredibly sharp, then quickly settled into a deep sorrow and heaviness.

He slowly and deliberately picked up where Lynch left off, his voice losing some of its usual gentleness and replaced by the cold weight of the facts: "They captured Frank and Alice and subjected them to hours of inhuman torture using the Cruciatus Curse." He named the Auror couple and recounted the brutal atrocity.

Lin Qi nodded slowly, his dark eyes reflecting the slightly gloomy afternoon light outside the window.

"Regarding their injuries, St. Mungo's most senior healers jointly diagnosed them and ultimately concluded that their minds had been completely and permanently destroyed. The malevolent magic of the Cruciatus Curse had eroded the very foundation of their souls and reason, rendering conventional treatments and even magic powerless."

His voice was calm, yet it sounded like he was reciting a cold, hard verdict.

Dumbledore nodded silently, a heavy cloud hanging over his face.

The tragedy of the Longbottoms is one of the many unhealable wounds left by that dark age, symbolizing the ultimate cruelty that pure evil can inflict, beyond physical harm.

A brief silence fell over the office, with only memories and sorrow flowing silently.

Then, Lynch leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed firmly on Dumbledore, and said in a clear and resolute tone, "Headmaster Dumbledore, this is the most important thing I have to talk to you about today. I don't think so. Based on months of research and certain indications, I believe that the injuries Frank and Alice Longbottom have suffered can be treated, or at least partially repaired."

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