The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 164 Snape's Question

Chapter 164 Snape's Question

As he asked his question, Professor McGonagall's seeking gaze, Professor Snape's cautious observation, Lockhart's feigned composure and curiosity, and Filch's gaze, a mixture of newly born hope and old hatred—all these gazes eventually converged with Lynch's, once again focusing with unparalleled clarity on Harry Potter, who had been isolated in the center of the room from beginning to end.

"It was him!" Mr. Filch sprang from his chair, his withered fingers trembling as he pointed at Harry, his voice shrill and piercing with sobs and rage. "It must have been him! He always hated me! He hated Mrs. Lorris! He was taking revenge on me! You murderer!"

"Calm down, Mr. Filch." Lynch's voice was calm and firm, instantly suppressing the administrator's outburst. "Accusations require evidence. Such powerful and dangerous magic is beyond the capabilities of a second-year student."

His words were clear and logical, leaving Filch speechless as he swallowed his subsequent accusations, his lips trembling as he could not utter a word.

Lynch’s gaze returned to Harry, his eyes deep and gentle.

This also calmed Harry's uneasy heart a little.

"Now," Lynch's tone softened, becoming gentler, "tell us, Harry, what did you see? What exactly happened? Every detail could be crucial."

Harry swallowed hard; he could feel the heavy gazes of all the professors pressing down on him.

His mind raced, a fierce internal struggle raging within him. Would anyone believe him if he uttered the eerie voice? Or would he be seen as a madman or a lying murderer? Or worse, would simply hearing the voice itself be interpreted as proof of evil?

But looking into Uncle Lynch's encouraging eyes, and thinking about his help and encouragement to me...

Harry took a deep breath and finally decided to tell the truth.

“I—I heard a voice,” Harry’s voice trembled, but he tried to make himself clear, “a cold, murderous voice. I followed that voice to get there, and then I saw Mrs. Lorris—turned into that.”

Standing to the side, Lin Qi's face remained calm, but he already understood what was going on.

It's a basilisk.

Salazar-Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets was finally opened, and the monster inside was released. He even felt a sense of fatalism, a feeling that "it just happened after all." The trajectory of fate had been slightly rippled, but the general trend still flowed along the predetermined course.

But Lin Qi did not reveal any of his inner thoughts on his face.

He pressed on, his tone remaining calm, guiding Harry to provide more information: "A voice filled with murderous intent? That's not common at Hogwarts. Is this the first time you've heard this voice, Harry?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, recalling his strange experience in Lockhart's office last time.

He didn't want to say it at first, but now that things had come to this point, hiding it would only make things worse.

He could only bite the bullet and answer, "No—it's not the first time. I first heard about it about a month ago, in late October."

He paused, then added a detail: "Right—right in this office. I was helping Professor Lockhart write a reply."

These words struck Gilderoy Lockhart like an invisible spell.

His signature bright smile froze, then vanished completely, leaving only a comical look of horror. He jerked his head around, his terrified gaze frantically sweeping across every corner of the office, every shadow of the bookshelves, as if the owner of that cold voice were lurking among them.

"My—my office?!" His voice was shrill and off-key. One hand gripped his collar tightly, while the other nervously twirled his golden curls, trying to maintain his know-it-all demeanor, but his trembling fingers and flickering eyes betrayed him.

"Merlin's fattest pajama bottoms! This is horrible!" He tried hard to maintain his composed demeanor, but his voice involuntarily rose. "If I had heard that back then, I swear on my Merlin Medal, I could have gotten them in no time! I would never have let it come to this! What a shame!"

Lockhart let out a series of dry "haha" sounds, which sounded weak and jarring in the heavy air.

He unconsciously took a step closer to Professor McGonagall and Lynch, almost hiding behind them, before lowering his voice and asking breathlessly, "What—what is that thing? It—it couldn't still be nearby, could it? Right here? Should we leave first?"

Lin Qi closed his eyes, and the air in the office seemed to freeze.

Using the unique and ancient power of his contract with Hogwarts, he spread his senses like an invisible spider web, meticulously examining the area around the office and even extending to the stone walls and corridors throughout the castle.

However, a moment later, he opened his eyes again, a faint trace of helplessness flashing across his deep eyes.

As with his previous attempts, he sensed no unusual energy or trace of magical creatures. The castle's ancient and powerful magic continued to flow slowly at its own rhythm, unsettlingly calm.

It was probably because the basilisk had survived in the depths of this castle until now, thanks to the power of the Founder's Contract left by Salazar-Slytherin, Lynch thought to himself. After a thousand years of symbiosis, its existence had probably long been accepted as part of the Hogwarts magical structure, like the moving staircases and the mischievous Peeves. The power of the contract would naturally make it difficult to identify it as an "anomaly."

He raised his hand again, his fingertips lightly touching the air.

Centered on his finger, the air rippled outwards, and an invisible shockwave quietly spread out, covering the office in front of him at an extremely fast speed, and then instantly converged at his fingertip.

"How is it, Professor Lynch?" Professor McGonagall asked eagerly, watching his subtle changes in expression. "Any discoveries?"

Lynch slowly shook his head: "I didn't find any signs of magical creatures or unusual magical activity."

This conclusion made the atmosphere in the office even more eerie and heavy.

If even Lynch came up empty-handed, it means the potential threat might be more hidden and dangerous than imagined.

Snape's face was tense. His dark eyes first swept sharply over Lynch, as if assessing the veracity of the result, before his cold gaze fell on Harry as if it were a physical presence.

"Another unavoidable question," he said, his voice smooth and laced with undisguised skepticism, "why, of everyone present, was Potter the only one who could hear that unique voice?"