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After the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, in the corridor.
Students walked out of the classroom in small groups, still reflecting on this Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson taught by Professor Snape.
"Lynn, what kind of illness do you think Professor Lupin actually has? Even though Snape's teaching is... well, full of knowledge, that..." Edgar shrank his neck, clearly still lingering in fear from being lashed out at by Snape in class.
Lynn was looking down at a piece of parchment in his hand and didn't even look up at the words. "I don't know, maybe he's just sick."
Edgar took a curious glance and almost choked on his own spit.
The thing drawn on that parchment... was truly hard to compliment. Calling it "shabby" was an understatement; it was simply "crap"!
"Merlin, what are you drawing? Crap?" Edgar's lips twitched.
Lynn gave a vague hum in response and continued walking forward.
---
One evening a few days later, in the dormitory.
William was organizing his essay, Ollie was quietly reading a spellbook, and Edgar's stomach was growling with hunger.
He looked toward Lynn's bed; the latter was sitting cross-legged on the bed with that "crap" spread out in front of him.
"Lynn, come on, want to go to the kitchen for some late-night snacks?" Edgar invited. "Stop fiddling with that... well, uniquely artistic drawing of yours."
"No, you guys go. I have to solve these small problems first." After saying that, he buried his head in the drawing again.
Another sunny afternoon.
"Hey! Lynn! The weather is so nice today, why aren't you going fishing?"
Lynn didn't stop his pace and just waved his hand. "Not going, I'm busy."
For several days in a row, Lynn was in this state—either looking up books or studying the Diadem inside his trunk.
That uniquely ugly drawing almost became his trademark; in the dormitory, corners of the Great Hall, and the edge of the Library's Restricted Section, he could be seen carving runes onto the drawing.
Finally, late one night,
Edgar, watching Lynn trace complex paths on the drawing under the lamp once again, asked directly, "Lynn, this drawing is so ugly... I mean, what is this 'profound' drawing actually for? I've asked you several times, and you're being so mysterious."
William also put down his pen and looked over curiously. Even Ollie propped himself up slightly from the bed.
Lynn's movements paused; he put down his quill and let out a long sigh.
Then, under the curious gazes of his three roommates, he put the drawing into his trunk.
"You'll know when I get back."
After saying that, without waiting for his roommates to react, he walked to the door and pulled it open—Bang!
Leaving the three in the dormitory looking at each other in confusion.
Edgar blinked. "Where... is he going?"
...Meanwhile, high above Azkaban.
To avoid causing trouble for the Azkaban guards, he went to great lengths, not having Levi drop him off at the front gate of Azkaban, but instead choosing a spot hundreds of meters high directly above the prison's main fortress.
The cold North Sea night wind whistled past, making his cloak flutter. Below, the lights peeking through the windows of Azkaban were weak and dismal, as cold as the thin starlight in the sky.
Lynn's goal was clear: catch a "suitable" Dementor to take back and "help."
To be honest, he felt a bit of regret now.
If he had known, he wouldn't have let that "aba-aba" crying Dementor go; catching a new one and training it was quite a hassle.
Just as Lynn was searching for a target while feeling a hint of annoyance at his past "mercy," an unusually noisy sound drifted up faintly from a certain cell area below.
"Aba, aba aba... aba aba aba!" (Stop! That's mine! Take turns! No grabbing!)
"Ge-ge-ge... ge-ge!" (First come, first served! Whoever sucks it gets it!)
"Ahaha! Hahaha! What sweet despair! Let the Master see my loyalty! More! I want more!"
Among them, one "aba" sound, mixed in with a heap of greedy "ge-ge"s and wild laughter, stood out remarkably, even sounding a bit... familiar?
Lynn was stunned; he lowered his altitude slightly and looked toward the source of the sound.
Outside that section of cells, several Dementors were scrambling around a narrow cell door, their dark "hands" and hooded heads crowded together.
One of the Dementors seemed to have been pushed to the periphery, vainly waving its rag-like sleeves and making anxious "aba" sounds, trying to maintain order.
"No way?" Lynn's lips twitched. Could this be the legendary... fate, truly wondrous?
Lynn hesitated no longer and raised his wand—"Expecto Patronum!"
A silver-white light suddenly burst forth!
Under Lynn's guidance, the Patronus, trailing a brilliant tail of light, dove toward the chaotic cell area below!
Wherever the silver light reached, the Dementors who were fighting immediately let out terrified screeches and scattered in an instant.
Only one Dementor was half a beat slow to react, or perhaps because it was too focused on its "aba-aba" protests that it didn't notice the silver light descending.
By the time it noticed, the Patronus had already turned around and was charging straight at it!
"Aba—!!!" A short, terrified scream.
No need to guess; he knew which "old acquaintance" it was.
"Aba! Aba aba!" (I didn't go out to hurt anyone! Why are you chasing and hitting me again!) The Dementor hopped up and down, trying to dodge the Patronus, looking disheveled and aggrieved.
"I'm here to take you 'home'! Don't run! If you don't run, I won't chase!" Lynn's voice was clearly conveyed to the Dementor through the Patronus.
Dementor: What kind of home? To get beaten up?
The Dementor ran even faster, "Aba!" (You stop first!)
"You stop running first."
"Aba aba!" (If you stop, I'll stop running!)
"If you stop, I'll stop."
Duang—!!!
Finally, under the relentless circling pursuit of the Patronus, that "aba" Dementor completely lost its spirit.
It hung dejectedly in mid-air, its tattered cloak looking even more ragged, emitting a decadent aura of having lost all will to live.
Lynn controlled the Patronus to back off slightly and unhurriedly flew in front of the Dementor that had given up resistance.
"Run? Why aren't you running anymore?" Lynn raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying a bit of playfulness.
"Aba?... Aba aba aba..." (Why... why must you chase me? Aren't there... aren't there plenty of my kind outside? Over there, and over there, there are several that just floated by! Go catch them!)
That "voice" even sounded like it had a sob in it to Lynn's ears.
What kind of person was Lynn? He remained unmoved.
"The reason?" He tilted his head as if thinking seriously, then gave an answer that made the Dementor wish it could dissipate on the spot:
"I've gotten used to hitting you."
Concise and perfectly justified.
"..." The Dementor's outline seemed to become even more blurred.
"No more nonsense." Lynn put away his playful expression.
He flipped his wrist.
Click.
The trunk landed in front of the Dementor, making a soft "click" sound as it automatically unlatched.
"Get in." Lynn's chin tilted slightly toward the trunk, his command brief and clear.
Dementor: "..."