Lynn followed Newt, who had been released from the Magical Congress, for over another month across America looking for traces of the obscurial.
From New York to Boston, Boston to Philadelphia, Philadelphia to Washington, and then all the way west from Washington, across plains and mountains, chasing it all the way to the West Coast.
Newt's compass was hit-or-miss; sometimes it pointed in one direction without moving for ages, other times it spun wildly like it was having a fit.
They followed that faint signal for thousands of kilometers, rummaging through trash heaps, crawling through sewers, climbing rooftops, and wading through swamps.
In the end, they found nothing.
That half of the obscurial seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving not even a shadow behind.
Newt, however, remained very composed. Every day he carried his suitcase, searching when he should and waiting when he should, his face showing no signs of anxiety.
Lynn couldn't take it anymore; after a month of running around, his legs had practically thinned out.
He was sick of seeing that compass now, got a headache just looking at Newt's suitcase, and even wanted to walk the long way around just to avoid seeing magical creatures.
As the start of the Hogwarts term drew closer, Newt suggested that Lynn head back to Britain first, saying he would contact him once there was news of the obscurial.
"Since it chose to hide, it won't come out again for a short while," Newt said calmly, feeding the little ones he had just recovered into his suitcase as he spoke. "Besides, school is starting; your studies are important."
Lynn wanted to say then that his studies weren't that important.
But on second thought, there were only a few days left until the start of term, and a few days of rest would be good. After this month of running around, he felt more exhausted than if he had participated in three Triwizard Tournaments.
"Then I'll head back home first, Mr. Scamander."
Newt nodded, said "Stay safe," and didn't say anything else.
He was as taciturn as ever.
Lynn seriously suspected that if he put him and Ollie together, the two of them would barely manage to exchange ten sentences in a whole day.
...
For the first time, Lynn felt that the feeling of coming home was truly nice.
Dodo had tidied the house spotlessly, and his favorite dishes were still kept warm in the kitchen.
Lynn ate three bowls of rice in a row and then took a nap until he was completely disoriented. When he woke up, the sun outside the window was already heading west.
He lay on the bed staring at the ceiling for a while before slowly crawling up, thinking it was time to get his supplies for the new term.
Actually, there wasn't much to buy.
Wand, cauldron, telescope—he lacked none of those.
There were a few new textbooks for the Fifth year, but only those few.
He flipped through the booklist for the new term—The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Defensive Magical Theory—all together not even half as thick as the fourth-year list.
The bookstore was as bustling as ever.
When Lynn pushed the door open to enter, he was nearly squeezed out by the flow of people.
Diagon Alley was like this during the back-to-school season, filled with students and parents out shopping.
Relying on his agile frame, Lynn ducked and weaved through the crowd, finally managing to squeeze into the Fifth year textbook section.
Those few books were placed in the most prominent position by the shop assistant, stacked neatly, with a small sign standing next to them:
"Fifth year Essentials."
He picked up a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, flipped through it, and put it down. He picked up Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, flipped through it, and put it down as well.
Finally, he picked up that copy of Defensive Magical Theory and leaned against the bookshelf to read it.
Chapter One: The Definition of Dark Arts.
Boring. Next chapter.
Chapter Two: The Dangers of Dark Arts.
What dangers could there be? They're quite useful. Next chapter.
Chapter Three: The Theoretical Basis of Dark Arts.
Lynn's brow furrowed.
He patiently flipped through a few more pages; it was all various theoretical analyses, historical developments, academic disputes, citing classics and authorities in great length.
Stuff like "The essential difference between Dark Arts and Light Arts lies in the intent of the caster"—isn't that just nonsense?
He flipped forward another dozen pages.
Theory, theory, and more theory. Not even a decent spell, let alone any defensive measures.
Flipping through the whole book, besides clichés like "The Unforgivable Curses are typical representatives of the Dark Arts," it was just empty preaching like "Wizards should stay away from the temptation of the Dark Arts."
Lynn sighed, mourning for this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching.
He shook his head, closed the book, and walked toward the checkout counter.
The line to pay was very long. Lynn stood at the end of the queue, boredly flipping through the Defensive Magical Theory in his hand.
When he reached Chapter Seven, he suddenly felt the book wasn't completely useless—at least Chapter Seven taught how to identify Dark Arts items. Although the content was as shallow as a first-year textbook, at least it wasn't nonsense.
"Lynn?"
A familiar voice came from behind him.
Lynn turned around and saw Harry walking toward him.
Beside him was a tall man, whose thin face still bore a bit of unrecovered haggardness, but his eyes were bright and he walked with a spring in his step.
It was Sirius Black.
"Good afternoon, Harry." Lynn tucked the book under his arm and nodded to the two of them. "Mr. Black."
When Sirius saw Lynn, his footsteps clearly faltered.
A very complex expression flashed across his face—hard to say if it was wariness or embarrassment, but it certainly wasn't natural.
Lynn could probably guess what he was thinking.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Lynn." Sirius's voice was a bit dry, as if it had gotten stuck in his throat before being squeezed out.
"Mr. Black." Lynn nodded again, a polite smile on his face. "Long time no see. That time in the Forbidden Forest—it was all a misunderstanding. Surely you don't still hold a grudge?"
Sirius's expression became even stiffer.
Of course he remembered. Being taken down by a third-year student with a "Stupefy"—if word of that got out, it would be enough to lose him face for a lifetime.
"How could I?" Sirius twitched the corner of his mouth, trying his best to look magnanimous. "That little thing, I forgot it long ago."
His tone was quite firm when he said this, but his shifting gaze somewhat betrayed him.
Lynn smiled and didn't continue the topic.
"Mr. Black, you don't look too well," he changed the subject. "Have you not been resting well?"
Sirius was stunned for a moment and subconsciously touched his face.
His complexion indeed wasn't good; this past month he had been busy working on Harry's defense for the trial, as well as tidying rooms, buying things, and dealing with those old accounts. He hadn't had a single night of sound sleep.
But how did this kid see it at a glance?
"It's... it's alright," he responded vaguely.
Harry stood to the side, looking at his godfather's hesitant expression, almost unable to stop himself from laughing out loud.
He knew Sirius too well—the man said he "forgot," but who knows how many times he had muttered about it in his heart.
"Lynn," he quickly interjected to save Sirius from further embarrassment, "do you want to come over to my place for a bit?"
Lynn was taken aback. "Would your uncle and aunt agree?"
Harry shook his head. "I'm living at my godfather's now."
He paused and added, "Sirius's cooking is terrible."
Sirius's face instantly darkened. "How is my cooking terrible? Wasn't that steak yesterday fine?"
"It was burnt."
"That was char-grilled aroma."
"Char-grilled aroma is just burnt."
The two of them started bickering in the bookstore like that, drawing side-glances from the people in the queue.
Lynn watched this scene and couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Sure," he looked at Sirius and then at Harry. "I've got nothing else to do, so stopping by for a bit is fine."
Just as Sirius was about to say something, Lynn added: "But Mr. Black, if you really want to learn how to cook, I can teach you. We can't have Harry eating burnt steak every day."
Sirius's mouth opened and closed, then closed and opened again.
He stared at Lynn for several seconds, as if trying to figure out if this kid was truly trying to help or just mocking him.
But Lynn's expression was simply too sincere—so sincere that he felt embarrassed to refuse.
"...Then I'll trouble you," he said through gritted teeth.
Lynn smiled and waved his hand. "No trouble at all, it's just a small favor."
He turned to look at the long line in front of the checkout counter and then at the book in his hand.
"Then... once I've paid, let's go."
"Alright."
---
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