The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 171 Commission

Chapter 171 Commission

Fox gently preened his feathers on the perch, and for a moment the only sound in the room was the soft tinkling of silverware.

Dumbledore's aged fingers tapped lightly on the table, his gaze, through his half-moon spectacles, falling on Lynch sitting opposite him.

On the surrounding walls, the portraits of past principals seemed to hold their breath, a stark contrast to their usual snoring, chatting, or visiting each other's rooms. Some pretended to be engrossed in their books, but their eyes were darting towards the center of the office; others simply took off their glasses and carefully wiped them, their movements slow and deliberate; Phineas Nigellus Black even paused his quill on the parchment, feigning deep thought, but in reality, he was straining his ears, afraid of missing a single word.

"So, Professor Lynch," he finally spoke, his voice softer than when he was in front of others, yet taut like a drawn bowstring, "in your opinion, is the mastermind behind this locked-room drama—our old friend? Given his current situation—"

"Hmm—": "A 'vulnerable' state?" He chose an extremely euphemistic word, but there was no warmth in his blue eyes.

Lin Qi leaned back slightly, into the shadow of the high-backed chair, his fingertips tapping the armrests unconsciously and rhythmically, as if silently calculating something.

"Just as you said before, the connection must exist. The title of 'Slytherin's Heir' is itself an old label he can't completely remove."

"But based on the angle and height of the arm used to write the bloody words on the wall, it was actually written by a lower-grade student."

"The possibility that he personally infiltrated the castle, used the Imperius Charm to manipulate a young student into writing words in blood, and precisely unleashed the monster—is extremely low." He shook his head slightly. "After Quirrell's failure not long ago and that violent soul shock, his current state is probably closer to that of a shadow needing to parasitize and lie dormant. Such precise remote control, requiring continuous magical support, doesn't fit his current 'survival-first' behavior pattern. It's too risky, unlike him."

"It's more likely that the instructions were given remotely to his followers."

Dumbledore's finger suddenly stopped on the table.

His blue eyes, hidden behind his half-moon spectacles, sharply looked at Lynch: "You mean, there's one in our school—"

"Are you sure about the students who are willing to follow his orders?" His voice was still soft, but tense.

Lynch's voice remained calm. "I'm just making a hypothesis, but there's still a high possibility that the writer was a lower-grade student."

Dumbledore took a slow breath, shifting his gaze from Lynch's face to the lively castle grounds outside the window.

His aged fingers gently clenched and pressed on the smooth tabletop. "A child," he whispered again, his voice growing heavier.

Dumbledore remained silent for a long time before continuing, "Your 'web' in the Dark Forest of Albania—has there been any feedback regarding his whereabouts?"

"No." Lynch's answer was crisp and emotionless. "The magical imaging devices deployed at several key points in the Dark Forest haven't transmitted any valuable images. That forest—"

He let out a soft breath, tinged with a rare hint of helplessness. "Too big, too ancient. The secrets it can conceal far exceed what our instruments can uncover. Given the bizarre way it attacked the very essence of the soul that it last displayed a few months ago..."

Lynch's voice deepened. "I haven't let my men go too deep, and I've strictly forbidden them from approaching any dangerous areas I've marked as potential hideouts. Relying on limited equipment that can only be passively fixed at a few points for surveillance—it's certainly passive and inefficient. But right now, it's the only option to ensure safety and avoid alerting the enemy."

Dumbledore stood up and slowly walked to the window, gazing at the gradually bustling castle grounds outside. The students' figures were like moving dots, completely unaware of the imminent threat.

The only sounds in the office were the occasional soft rustling of Fox preening his feathers and the extremely faint rustling of the fabric as the principals in the picture frame maintained the same posture for a long time.

After a long while, he finally let out a barely audible sigh.

"I understand," he finally said, his voice low.

His tall figure lingered by the window for a few more moments before slowly moving away.

Silence returned, broken only by the occasional soft sound from Fox.

After a while, Lynch raised his eyes and his gaze fell on Dumbledore's tall back.

"How about you over there?" he asked, his voice low but breaking the silence in the room. "Any progress in the search for the Horcruxes?"

Dumbledore slowly shook his head. His long, silvery-white hair and beard shimmered in the morning light streaming through the window, adding a touch of melancholy to his appearance.

He sat down in the chair, his aged hand pressing on the smooth tabletop, his knuckles slightly protruding from the pressure.

"Nothing at all." There was no obvious despair in his voice, only a deep calm after a long and futile search. "Voldemort hid his secrets very deep, much deeper than I initially expected. Those objects that may have carried his greatest evil and immortality are like dust carefully scattered into the vast world, leaving no trace for magic to follow."

“That’s normal,” Lynch said, his expression unchanged, as if he had expected this answer. “It’s a needle in a haystack. Even worse, we can’t even pinpoint the exact location of that sea. It requires time, patience, and—perhaps a bit of luck that we all lack.”

"I will continue to investigate. This matter—I must continue." Dumbledore's tone became resolute again. He raised his eyes, his gaze falling on Lynch through his glasses. "But at the same time, what is happening in the school—the Chamber of Secrets, the monster, the petrified Mrs. Norris, and the fear pervading the students—all of these must be resolved as soon as possible."

I cannot be distracted by two things at once.

He leaned forward slightly, his tone becoming extremely solemn: "Professor Lin Qi, can I entrust you with leading the investigation and response to this matter within the university?"

Lin Qi met his gaze, his dark eyes showing no hesitation or reluctance, but simply nodded calmly.

"Yes," he said, his tone as steady as ever, yet carrying an undeniable sense of control. "In fact, based on the information we have, including our initial assessment of the writer, I already have some preliminary ideas for the investigation."

Dumbledore looked at him carefully, his blue eyes, which seemed to see right through people, as if assessing all the meaning and determination behind his words.

Finally, he nodded slowly, and out of respect for Lynch and trust in him, he did not ask any further questions about the details.

"Very good," he said softly.