The Prisoners of Hogwarts

After Chapter 48 of the lecture

"If it's the kind of public accusations and rebuttals you see in the Daily Prophet," Lynch said in a tone as calm as if he were talking about the weather, "I don't care at all. On the contrary, I'd be pleasantly surprised. The more heated the debate, the wider my theory spreads, and the more people are likely to understand it."

Once the seeds of an idea are sown, they cannot be easily uprooted by publishing a few articles in the Daily Prophet.

He paused, then turned his gaze back to the distance.

"As for other reactions..." Lynch's lips seemed to curl upwards very slightly, the curve disappearing in an instant, "If someone wants to express their dissatisfaction in a more 'traditional' and more 'direct' way, such as... finding some people to use force."

"Then I hope that Headmaster Dumbledore will be able to hand over the visitor to the Ministry of Magic in good condition."

Dumbledore gave Lynch a deep look, his blue eyes behind his glasses flashing, but he didn't respond immediately.

In the end, he simply stroked his long beard and let out a muffled sound.

At the edge of the venue, Professor Quirrell stood in a secluded corner, his gaze frequently drifting to the two figures standing side by side at the edge of the podium.

Just then, a deep, cold voice sounded beside him: "Professor Quirrell."

Quirrell flinched and turned around like a startled rabbit, meeting Snape's dark, unfathomable eyes.

Snape's tall figure almost shrouded him in shadow, and his gloomy face seemed to be covered in frost.

"Severus... Severus!" Quirrell stammered, trying to force a smile, but it looked worse than a grimace.

"Your complexion," Snape's voice was flat, his gaze scraping across Quirrell's pale face like a scalpel, "looks worse than an overcooked potion of swelling in a cauldron. Was it the...flying trip just now, too much fright? Or is the fresh air of our Hogwarts making your head, wrapped in a scarf, uncomfortable?"

Quirrell's body trembled almost imperceptibly again. He frantically waved his hands, speaking so fast he nearly bit his tongue: "No...no! Severus! It's just...it's just a bit...too high! Yes, too high! And the wind's strong! I...I'm a little...afraid of heights! Yes! I'm afraid of heights! It's terrifying!"

He tried hard to make his expression more natural, but it only made him look more stiff.

Snape's gaze lingered on his face for a few seconds. Finally, he merely let out a very soft, cold snort, laced with undisguised mockery: "Ha. A fear of heights? What a... 'convincing' reason. Follow me, Quirrell, Professor McGonagall seems to need you." He looked away from Quirrell, flicked his black robes, and strode towards the castle.

Quirrell felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and quickly lowered his head, jogging to catch up with Snape's back, which exuded an aura that kept strangers at bay.

On the other side, Dumbledore also stepped away from the podium.

He met up with Professor McGonagall, exchanged a few words in hushed tones, and then walked together toward the castle.

Before leaving, Professor McGonagall turned back and gave a stern look to a few younger students who were trying to chase and play on the lawn, which startled them so much that they immediately stood up straight.

A tiny, short figure came into Lynch's view.

Professor Flitwick stood in front of Lynch, his high-pitched voice filled with barely suppressed excitement.

"A truly brilliant lesson! Professor Lynch!"

Lynch bowed to Professor Flitwick to express his gratitude: "This is all thanks to your careful guidance back then."

You can still call me Lynch, just like before.

Professor Flitwick looked at Lynch with a sigh in his eyes: "After that tragedy happened to you in your first year, you didn't come back to school for several months. I thought you would never come back."

Thankfully, you finally came back.

Although you became taciturn and always hid behind the crowd, you eventually came back.

So when you suddenly disappeared after Halloween in sixth grade, I was very worried about your situation and what you were going through.

He looked Lin Qi up and down: "But look at you now!"

The students who once sat in front of the class are now professors at Hogwarts!

Lynch maintained his usual warm smile, except for a moment when Professor Flitwick spoke of the tragedy, when the smile faded, but quickly returned to normal.

He began, his tone tinged with emotion: "My past experiences have shaped who I am today."

As a new professor at Hogwarts, I will continue to do my job well.

"Speaking of your work," Professor Flitwick looked around, "I came here to tell you that I like the new theories you presented in class, and the wizarding world needs more wizards like you."

After saying that, he blinked, turned and left, his short figure quickly disappearing through the castle gates.

After Professor Flitwick left, Lynch continued to stand at the edge of the podium. He raised his head and began to observe the drifting clouds in the sky.

The noisy area gradually quieted down, leaving only a few students excitedly gesturing and playing around, their voices faintly reaching Lin Qi's ears.

A series of heavy, familiar footsteps approached.

Hagrid's enormous figure appeared beside the podium.

He rubbed his large, fan-like hands together, looking down at Lin Qi on the podium, his black beetle-like eyes filled with awe and a hint of barely perceptible tension.

"Professor Lynch, I apologize for keeping you waiting." Hagrid's voice was loud but tinged with caution. "Your house-elf told me that you have new arrangements for the stands."

Lynch turned his gaze from the distance and landed on Hagrid.

He nodded slightly, his voice calm: "Yes, Hagrid."

You did an excellent job; the stands are very sturdy.

But I won't need so many stands for the rest of the classes.

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the massive, sturdy oak structure before him, then looking towards the Quidditch pitch in the distance.

"These oak pieces are of very good quality and have a solid structure."

I think you should break it in half. One part can be sent to the Quidditch stadium to add a few seats to the stands there.

Of course, this requires the consent of Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Hodge, but I don't think they would refuse to add facilities to the Quidditch stadium.

"For the other part, I need you to take it to the edge of the area near the Forbidden Forest, right next to the entrance of the stone path I carved out."

Hagrid paused for a moment, then a big, relieved smile spread across his face as he vigorously tapped his large, furry head: "Oh! Okay! Professor Lynch!"

That's a great idea, leave it to me!

I'll start dismantling it first thing tomorrow morning!

Make sure all the wood is neatly arranged and then sent to its proper place!

"Then I'll have to trouble you." Lin Qi nodded to Hagrid and turned to walk towards the Forbidden Forest.

A gentle breeze rustled through the grass and brushed against the hem of his clothes, while the setting sun cast golden rays that elongated his shadow.

The crow on his shoulder preened its feathers gently, its wooden beak striking its wooden wings with a soft "tap".