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The golden egg cracked open.
Then—
"Ah—!!!"
Ripples visible to the naked eye spread out from the golden egg!
The sound was so sharp that it pierced eardrums, like countless cats screaming simultaneously, or a train whistle exploding right next to one's ear.
Cedric's face instantly contorted.
Harry Potter's glasses slipped straight off his nose.
Roger's mouth formed an O-shape, and he froze in place as if struck by lightning.
The three of them simultaneously fell backward.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three thuds later, the three of them lay stiffly on the path, eyes rolled back, limbs splayed out, completely unmoving.
The golden egg's scream lasted for three seconds before abruptly stopping.
Silence returned to the path.
Lynn stood three meters away, arms crossed, looking down at the three of them.
He took off one earplug and listened cautiously.
No sound.
He removed the other earplug as well.
Still no sound.
Only the sounds of fighting on the Quidditch Pitch and Madam Pomfrey's faint shouts from afar could be heard.
Lynn walked over, squatted down, and looked at their faces.
Cedric's eyes were half-open and half-closed, his pupils dilated, with a silly smile still lingering on his lips.
Harry Potter's glasses were crooked, and he was completely unconscious, but his chest was still rising and falling slightly—thankfully, he was still alive.
Roger's condition was the most exaggerated. His mouth hung wide open, and his tongue was almost sticking out.
Lynn was silent for two seconds.
Then he stood up and brushed some nonexistent dust from his hands.
"Time to go, time to go."
...
That evening, the Hufflepuff common room naturally hosted another celebration.
The fire in the fireplace burned brightly, its orange-red flames dancing and warming the entire space. Many pumpkin lanterns hung from the ceiling, emitting a soft glow that intertwined with the firelight, making one feel comfortable the moment they stepped inside.
The entrance was packed with people.
To be precise, almost all the Hufflepuff students were present.
They squeezed themselves onto sofa backs, carpets, and even windowsills, filling the usually spacious common room to the brim.
Several long tables had been pushed together in the center, piled high with—
Mountains of cookies.
All sorts of flavors: honey, chocolate, cream, and a few plates of suspiciously green, oddly flavored cookies—those belonged to a certain seventh-year senior.
Mountains of cakes.
The three-tier cake even had decorative golden eggs made from frosting.
Next to it were several plates of cupcakes adorned with golden frosting, sparkling in the firelight.
And pitchers of Pumpkin Juice and butterbeer.
The Pumpkin Juice was iced, with fine beads of condensation on the pitchers. The butterbeer was steaming, releasing an enticing sweet aroma.
Of course, Lynn's favorite cola was also indispensable, with several cases stacked in the corner.
"Lynn!!!"
As soon as Lynn stepped into the common room, he was surrounded by a crowd.
"Congratulations!"
"That's amazing!"
"Six golden eggs!"
"Staring down Durmstrang for two days and two nights!"
Cheers, applause, and whistles intertwined, making Lynn's ears ring.
Before he could react, he was pushed by the crowd to the front of the long tables.
Then he saw a banner.
A huge banner made of golden fabric hung from the ceiling, almost covering the entire wall.
It read:
"Congratulations to the Champion of Hogwarts (Azkaban) on Their Triumphant Return"
Lynn stared at the parentheses and remained silent for two seconds.
"The banner is beautiful," he said. "It would be even more beautiful without the content in the parentheses."
"No way." A third-year girl shook her head, her tone firm.
"Why not?" Lynn asked.
"Because one must be honest," another boy chimed in, his expression serious.
Lynn: "..."
"You are the Champion of Azkaban," another person said. "This is certified by the Goblet of Fire. You can't fake it."
"That's right, that's right," a group of people nearby echoed. "We can't lie."
Lynn opened his mouth, wanting to retort, but found he couldn't.
"But..."
"No buts!" Edgar squeezed out of the crowd and threw an arm around Lynn's shoulder. "Just accept it! Champion of Azkaban! How impressive!"
"Impressive my foot." Lynn rolled his eyes.
"Why isn't it impressive?" Edgar said righteously. "Didn't you see how scared those three from Durmstrang were today? Viktor Krum's face turned green, and Katya and Louis's expressions—hahahaha, I laugh just thinking about it!"
Another burst of laughter erupted around them.
Lynn sighed, deciding to give up resisting.
"Alright, alright," he waved his hand. "As long as you're happy."
"Of course we're happy!" Edgar pulled him over to sit at the front of the long table. "Come on, today you're the star. Eat and drink well, and don't think too much."
William Smith and Ollie Thorne also squeezed over and sat beside him.
"Seriously," William Smith said, pushing up his glasses, "that bracket actually makes it quite recognizable. In the future, when people mention you, their first reaction will be 'Champion of Azkaban.' Easy to remember."
"Easy to remember, yes." Lynn picked up a bottle of cola, opened it, and took a sip. "But it doesn't sound like a good person."
"You were never a good person." Ollie Thorne rarely spoke, his tone as calm as if he were stating a simple fact.
Lynn almost choked on his cola and, without any self-awareness, retorted, "How am I not a good person?"
Ollie Thorne didn't speak. He just looked at him.
William Smith didn't speak. He just looked at him.
Edgar Burns also didn't speak. He just looked at him, a meaningful smile on his face.
Lynn fell silent.
He thought about the things he had done...
"Alright." He raised his cola. "I'm not a good person."
A burst of laughter erupted around them.
"That's more like it!" Edgar Burns raised his butterbeer. "Come on, a toast to the Champion of Azkaban who isn't a good person!"
"Cheers!!!"
Dozens of cups were raised simultaneously, clinking together in the air with crisp sounds.
...
After the festivities, Hogwarts entered December.
The weather grew colder and colder, with strong winds and sleet almost every day. The treetops of the Forbidden Forest were covered in icicles, thick frost flowers condensed on the castle windows, and students hurried through the corridors bundled up in thick robes, moving from one classroom to another.
The once-bustling Black Lake now had few visitors.
The cold wind could freeze a person to the bone. Only Durmstrang's large ship remained anchored in the middle of the lake, rocking back and forth in the strong winds.
Of course, this did not include Lynn.
At this moment, he was holding his precious fishing rod, sitting on his favorite rock by the Black Lake.
The sky was gray, with tiny snowflakes drifting down. A thin layer of ice had formed on the lake's surface; he had used his wand to melt a small hole and cast his fishing line into it.
The cold wind howled, making his robes flap noisily.
Lynn hunched his neck, blew on his hands, and continued staring at the water.
"In this weather, the fish must be starving," he muttered to himself. "They'll definitely be easy to catch."
Time passed minute by minute, and as expected, Lynn's float remained motionless.
He wasn't in a hurry. He simply sat there, his gaze focused on the small bobber, as though the world consisted only of him and the lake.
Suddenly—
The float plunged downward violently!
Lynn's eyes lit up. He flicked his wrist, and the fishing rod instantly bent into a deep arc.
"Hey~ I got a bite!"
He exclaimed excitedly, pulling with both arms to reel in the line, but the force...
How should he put it?
It was a bit light.
Lynn frowned and continued reeling in.
Soon, a palm-sized fish was pulled from the water, thrashing its tail in the sunlight and struggling desperately.
Lynn: "..."
He looked at the small fish and remained silent for a full three seconds.
The small fish also looked at him, blinking.
Lynn reached out and removed the fish from the hook.
Then he slapped it twice.
"Go get your parents!"
Lynn flicked his hand, and the small fish arced through the air, plopping back into the water before disappearing in the blink of an eye.
Lynn re-baited his hook and cast his rod again.
"I'll definitely catch a big one today," he mumbled. "I definitely will."
Just then, footsteps sounded from behind him.
"Lynn!"
A familiar voice cut through the wind.
Lynn turned his head.
Cedric Diggory was walking toward him, wrapped in thick robes and wearing a hat, completely bundled up.
"Good afternoon, Cedric," Lynn greeted. "Is something wrong?"
Cedric Diggory walked up to him, looked at the fishing rod in his hand, then at the empty fishing bucket beside him, and almost couldn't hold back a laugh.
"I knew you'd be here," he said, "without your Magic Phone."
Lynn scratched his head with an embarrassed smile.
"I'm fishing, you know," he said. "Looking at my Magic Phone affects my concentration."
"Concentration?" Cedric Diggory glanced at the empty bucket again, his expression subtle.
Lynn pretended not to notice.
"It's like this," Cedric Diggory said. "Albus Dumbledore requires all faculty and students to go to the Great Hall for dinner. I've already notified the other grades. You're the only one left."
"Everyone to the Great Hall?" Lynn was somewhat surprised. "What happened?"
"I don't know either." Cedric Diggory shrugged. "Something definitely needs to be announced. Maybe it's related to the second task. Or perhaps the Christmas event schedule."
Lynn nodded.
"Okay, I'll pack—"
He hadn't finished speaking.
Suddenly, a huge force came through the fishing rod!
The force was so great and unexpected that Lynn's hand almost dislocated. He instinctively gripped the fishing rod tightly, but the force continued, yanking the rod sharply forward—
Whoosh!
The fishing rod slipped from his hand, arced through the air, splashed into the Black Lake, and vanished beneath the surface in the blink of an eye.
Lynn remained frozen in place, still holding the posture of gripping the rod.
Cedric Diggory was also stunned.
The two of them stood by the lake, staring at the still-spreading ripples, silent for a full three seconds.
"...What was that just now?" Cedric Diggory asked cautiously.
Lynn retracted his hand, looked at his empty palm, then at the almost-vanished ripples, and thought:
Damn, it really went to call its parents?!
"A big fish," he said.
"Huh?"
"A very, very big fish," Lynn repeated, his tone as calm as if he were stating a fact. "The kind that can pull a fishing rod away."
Cedric Diggory opened his mouth, not knowing what to say.
Lynn took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
"Never mind." He turned around and patted the snow from his robes. "Let's go. Time for dinner. A fishing rod can be replaced, but dinner can't be missed."
He started walking toward the castle.