20demayo Chapter 270 Inquiry and Answer
Chapter 270 Inquiry and Answer
Chapter 270 Questions and Answers (4.8K) (2/2)
The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, the castle was still shrouded in tranquility.
Dumbledore and Lynch arrived at Lupin's office, and Dumbledore gently knocked on the door.
A series of slightly hurried, weak footsteps came from inside. The door was pulled open a crack, revealing Professor Lu Ping's pale and tired face.
He had clearly not slept all night, as evidenced by the deep bruises under his eyes.
"Professor Dumbledore? Professor Lynch?" He seemed somewhat surprised to see the two people outside the door, but quickly stepped aside. "Please come in."
A faint scent of potions filled the office. Lupin's movements were somewhat stiff; he seemed to be trying to conceal his weakness.
Dumbledore did not immediately mention the secret passage, but said in a gentle but serious tone, "Remus, first of all, I must inform you that Sirius Black broke into the castle last night."
Lupin's body trembled violently, as if he had been lashed by an invisible whip.
He instinctively gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white from the force.
"What—what did he do?" His voice was dry and tense, a hint of fear creeping into his tone. "Harry—Harry, he—"
"Harry is safe and sound, and all the students are safe," Dumbledore reassured Lupin immediately, but his next words plunged Lupin into despair: "But his target was clearly Harry. He breached the entrance to the Gryffindor tower, entered Harry's dormitory, and made a mess of it. This is a declaration."
"How could he—how dare he!" Lupin's voice trembled with anger and pain. The image of his former friend clashed wildly in his mind with that of a murderer and persecutor. "James and Lily—he killed them, and now he's coming after their child—" The immense grief and sense of betrayal almost overwhelmed him.
Just then, Lupin abruptly raised his head, a flicker of surprise and uncertainty in his gray eyes. He spoke with difficulty, each word seemingly rusted: "Last night—during my—during my transformation—I smelled his scent! Right outside the door! Very clearly!"
Dumbledore's eyes sharpened abruptly: "The exact time? Remus, that's important. Before or after the banquet?"
A deep sense of helplessness and bitterness washed over Lupin's face. He shook his head, his voice barely audible: "Professor Dumbledore—you know, in that state—I couldn't discern the exact time. Pain and—struggle—blurred everything. I can only be certain that after moonrise—I smelled him; he was standing outside the door."
Dumbledore paused for a moment, seemingly rapidly connecting the timelines in his mind.
His blue eyes gleamed, then finally turned into a barely audible sigh.
“I understand.” Dumbledore’s tone returned to calm, but became more serious. “Then, let’s return to our original question. Remus, we need to know how Sirius Black managed to bypass all the regular guards and protective magic, infiltrate the castle with such precision, and—and—appear outside your door at that time last night.” His gaze returned to Lupin, gentle yet unwavering. “Professor Lynch and I checked all the regular entrances. We believe he may have used—a secret passage.”
When the topic turned to the little-known passage, Lupin's face grew even more ashen.
He took a deep breath, as if trying to suppress the churning emotions in his chest.
That secret they shared, filled with adventure and laughter, has now become a path to tragedy and danger.
"I—I understand." He avoided Dumbledore's probing gaze, turned to the desk, and forced himself to remain calm, but his voice still trembled slightly. "Yes, there are indeed secret passages. We—the Marauders—discovered them back then."
When he uttered this long-unheard title, his voice was filled with undisguised pain.
“The most secret one,” he continued with difficulty, his gaze somewhat vacant as he stared at the wall, as if he could see through it to those nights he could never return to, “the entrance is in the Screaming Shack of Hogsmeade, and the exit—under the Whomping Willow. Press down on a knot on the trunk, and it will stop attacking, revealing the entrance.” He paused, as if gathering his strength, before looking at Dumbledore and Lynch, his eyes filled with complex emotions, “I think—he used this one. James—we used to sneak out all the time back then.”
He almost stammered out the last sentence.
Lin Qi stood aside, silently observing every subtle change in Lu Ping's expression.
Dumbledore listened quietly, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"The Whomping Willow—" he murmured, then nodded. "Thank you, Remus. This message is crucial."
Don't worry, we'll handle this passageway immediately. You—you need to get some rest.
Dumbledore's gaze lingered for a moment on Lupin's haggard face, the weariness and weakness on it even more evident in this moment of intense emotional turmoil.
He concluded the questioning gently but firmly: "That's enough information, Remus. What you need most now is rest, complete rest."
After a moment's thought, Dumbledore turned his gaze to the silent Lynch beside him and suggested, "Professor Lynch, perhaps you could temporarily cover today's Defense Against the Dark Arts class? Let Remus recover properly."
Lynch smiled and shook his head. He met Dumbledore's gaze, his voice as steady as ever: "I think it would be more appropriate to give this opportunity to another colleague—perhaps someone who has a longer-term commitment to teaching this course. He should be happy to oblige."
Dumbledore immediately understood who Lynch was referring to—Severus Snape.
He nodded slightly, no longer insisting: "Alright, we'll do it your way."
The two stopped bothering him and turned to leave Lupin's office.
Just as the wooden door was slowly closing, about to completely isolate the inside from the outside, Lin Qi, seemingly unintentionally, cast one last glance into the room through the narrow crack in the door.
He saw Lupin still standing there, motionless, his head bowed low, his shoulders slumped, shrouded in an overwhelming pain and loneliness that seemed to crush him.
That expression spoke volumes about the inner torment, far more than any words could convey.
A soul entangled by the past and ruthlessly abandoned by reality.
Lin Qi's eyes flickered slightly, and a thought silently crossed his mind.
Perhaps—in certain situations, such pain and isolation can be transformed into a usable force.
He understands Blake, understands that history, and is clearly filled with powerlessness and dissatisfaction with the status quo—perhaps he is a character worth paying attention to, or even worth winning over.
The idea was like a pebble thrown into a still lake, creating ripples in his mind before sinking back into the unfathomable depths of the calm surface.
Without exchanging any further words, Dumbledore and Lynch headed straight for the grounds outside the castle.
They arrived at the willow tree that Lupin had mentioned, the one that was said to beat people, its thick branches swaying slowly and menacingly in the breeze.
Lynch stopped and scanned the area under the willow tree with his own light.
At first glance, the ground seemed normal, with fallen leaves scattered naturally as if no one had stepped on it.
However, Lynch's gaze swept across the area beneath the willow tree, and he quickly spotted several unusually subtle details: the edge of a fallen leaf was unnaturally curled and compacted, and several grass stems near the roots showed extremely fine angles of breakage that could not have been caused by wind or animals crawling over them.
These traces blend almost seamlessly into the environment, but to a discerning eye, they appear like faint fireflies in the dark.
Instead of pointing it out immediately, he calmly raised his hand and gently waved it at an inconspicuous stone on the ground not far away.
The stone seemed to be picked up by an invisible hand, flying precisely towards the rough trunk of the willow tree, and landing steadily on the seemingly ordinary knot that Lu Ping had mentioned.
In an instant, the huge willow branches that had been swaying slowly seemed to have all their vitality drained away, instantly stiffening, freezing, and solidifying.
Only then did Lin Qi step forward, crouching down beneath the still, enormous structure. He lightly traced the subtle marks with his fingertips, then stood up, turning to Dumbledore who had been quietly observing, and said with certainty, "He definitely came in from here. It was very well concealed, but the traces are still there. The fallen leaves were slightly disturbed, and there are fresh breaks in the grass stems. The timing is within the last day or two, coinciding with last night."
Dumbledore stared at the Willow of the Brawler, which was pinned to the ground by a rock and had lost its vitality, and at the almost imperceptible marks Lynch had pointed out, and slowly nodded.
The evidence was irrefutable; Sirius Black's secret route into Hogwarts was now fully exposed in the early morning light.
Dumbledore gazed at the still Whomping Willow, pondered for a moment, then turned to Lynch and extended an invitation: "Now that we've found the exit, Professor Lynch, would you be interested in exploring the starting point of this passage together? I think the Shrieking Shack might be able to tell us more."
Lin Qi nodded slightly, without saying anything more.
The raven perched on his shoulder, which had remained still like an ornament, suddenly spread its jet-black wings and glided lightly to the ground. The instant its claws touched the ground, its form twisted and stretched rapidly in the eerie light, a feather melting into swirling black mist, only to reform in the blink of an eye. In the span of a single breath, another "Lin Qi," identical to the original Lynch, stood there.
"Exquisite magic," Dumbledore's blue eyes gleamed with genuine amazement as he carefully examined the clone formed from a raven. "I can hardly tell the difference. Extraordinary skill, Professor Lynch."
"You flatter me," Lin Qi replied with a smile.
Then, accompanied by a slight sound of air compression, only Lin Qi's figure remained standing under the Man-Beating Willow.
In Hogsmeade, the tranquility of the early morning was replaced by a vague unease.
Although the official news has not yet been released, snippets of information have already been quietly circulating through other channels.
Dumbledore and Lynch appeared in a quiet alley in Hogsmeade.
As soon as they appeared, one could sense that the village was different from usual.
Although most shops were not yet open, the wizards scattered around the street corners all wore expressions of tension and worry, and their hushed conversations buzzed like mosquitoes in the chilly air.
"—Scrimgeour's personal involvement must mean something big—"
"—I bet it's related to Black, otherwise why would the Ministry of Magic be in such a hurry—"
"—I hope nothing bad happens at Hogwarts—"
Dumbledore's azure gaze swept over the uneasy crowd, and he sighed softly, his voice carrying a barely perceptible heaviness: "In just one night, a single name has sent the entire wizarding world into a state of panic and unease. Sirius Black—the turmoil he has stirred up is far more intense than I imagined."
Lynch walked beside him, his expression still perfectly calm. He continued, "It's understandable. After all, he was the first person to successfully escape from Azkaban, and in many people's minds, he remains one of Voldemort's most loyal and ruthless Death Eaters. That war was only a little over a decade ago; many people's wounds haven't healed, and fear is deeply ingrained."
Dumbledore slowed his pace slightly, turning his head to look at Lynch with a probing gaze behind his half-moon spectacles: "I've noticed that you seem—unusually calm, Professor Lynch. After all, his betrayal directly led to the deaths of James—and Lily."
These words, like a pebble thrown into a deep pool, finally stirred up subtle ripples in Lin Qi's eyes.
His jawline seemed to tighten for a moment, but he quickly returned to normal. He didn't look at Dumbledore; his gaze remained fixed on the desolate path leading to the Shrieking Shack.
“I am not calm, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Lynch’s voice deepened. “I have no choice. You know my attitude towards the Death Eaters, and you know my relationship with Lily. That’s why I must be ‘calm.’”
He paused, as if suppressing something, before continuing, each word seemingly carved from beneath a layer of ice: "I'm afraid that the moment I find him, I won't be able to resist making him pay the price in the way I'm best at!"
"But... given that I have no interest in being buried with a despicable traitor and murderer, I have no choice but to force myself not to seek him out."
His words contained no trace of excitement, but the oppressive, almost tangible chill made the surrounding air seem to drop several degrees.
"The most important thing right now," he finally said, his tone regaining its previous calm, "is to protect Harry. As for Sirius Black—I have a feeling he'll reappear. When he does, neither I, nor you, nor the entire Ministry of Magic will give him another chance to escape. A just trial will await him then."
After saying this, he fell silent and walked in the direction of the screaming shack.
Dumbledore watched his retreating figure, his deep blue eyes filled with an inscrutable expression. In the end, he temporarily dismissed his suspicions about Lynch.
They arrived at the crooked, dilapidated wooden house. All around was silent, except for the howling wind blowing through the cracks in the planks.
Dumbledore gently pushed open the groaning door, and a smell mixed with dust, mold, and some kind of old magical residue wafted out.
The room was dimly lit, with only a few rays of morning light shining through the gaps in the broken wooden planks, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air.
The two stepped inside, their footsteps leaving clear imprints on the dusty floor.
Lin Qi's gaze swept calmly across every corner of the room, like the most precise instrument.
He quickly discovered an inconspicuous hole covered in debris in the ground—the entrance to the secret passage—in a corner partially obscured by overturned furniture. The dust around the hole showed signs of being carefully wiped away, indicating that someone had recently entered and exited through this spot and had deliberately cleaned it.
Dumbledore also noticed the entrance. He crouched down and gently ran his aged fingers along the edge of the opening.
"This is it," he said softly.
However, they gained nothing else.
Lynch carefully searched every inch of the room.
There were no extra footprints, no hair, no obvious signs that the items had been moved, and not even any magical remnants left behind that could identify the person.
The intruder—or rather, the departer—acted with extreme professionalism and sophistication, erasing all traces that could potentially expose them.
Aside from proving that someone had used the secret passage, the Screaming Shack itself provides no new clues about the user's identity or whereabouts.
"Very clean." Lin Qi straightened up, patted the dust off his hands, and stated the fact in a calm tone, "Apart from traces of use, nothing was left."
Dumbledore slowly stood up, looking around the room, which was filled with ominous rumors but seemed unusually "empty" at this moment. His gaze behind his half-moon spectacles was deep.
He nodded, showing no disappointment on his face.
"It seems our guest is very cautious; he doesn't want us to know any more." Dumbledore's voice was exceptionally clear in the empty room. "It seems we can only inform Mr. Scrimgeour of this news, and hopefully he will find it helpful."
This exploration confirmed the existence and use of the secret passage, but it ended there.
The trail went cold, and the two of them could only silently leave the haunted house, temporarily leaving its secrets and silence to the long-standing horror legends.