Back at the Granger home, the warm light in the entryway and the scent of roast chicken filling the air instantly enveloped them like an invisible healing ward. Aunt Monica hurried over at once, her eyes anxiously scanning the two children's faces. Only when she saw that they were tired but otherwise unharmed—especially the rare, not-yet-faded softness at the corners of Lynn's mouth—did she finally let out a long breath.
"Everything's fine, Mum," Hermione answered before anyone else could, her voice carrying the lightness of someone who had survived a disaster. "The Ministry of Magic... cleared everything up. It's fine now!" She deliberately left out the cold monitoring conditions and scrutinizing looks.
Uncle Wendell put down his newspaper as well and came over to give Lynn's shoulder a firm pat, still carefully avoiding his chest. "Well done, kid! I knew they had no reason to cause trouble! Go wash your hands—we're about to eat. Monica made your favorite lasagna with meat sauce!"
Dinner felt more relaxed than it had in days. Hermione vividly described the Ministry of Magic's grand atrium and elevators, carefully leaving out the tense and dangerous parts, drawing one astonished exclamation after another from Wendell and Monica. Lynn ate quietly. Every now and then, at one of Uncle Wendell's jokes or Hermione's exaggerated gestures, the corner of his mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible smile. Beneath his collar, the Star Stone continued to emit steady, warm pulses, slightly clearer than they had been at the Ministry.
After dinner, Hermione did not immediately drag Lynn off to discuss potions or read as she usually did. Instead, she mysteriously brought out a plate covered by a glass dome from the refrigerator—and beneath it sat Aunt Monica's signature Orange Cake! The cake was fluffy and golden, decorated with glistening candied orange peel, giving off a fresh, tempting sweetness.
"Strategic reserves!" Hermione announced, her eyes sparkling. "To celebrate our victorious return! Half each!"
She carefully cut the cake in two and pushed the slightly larger piece toward Lynn. Then she picked up a small fork, treasured a bite, and put it into her mouth, her eyes narrowing in contentment. Lynn looked at the cake before him, glowing with the color and fragrance of sunlight, then at the girl across from him, whose cheeks puffed slightly with satisfaction. A strange warmth slowly spread through his heart. He picked up his fork and took a bite as well. The fresh, sweet orange flavor blossomed on his tongue, blending with the soft cake and perfectly balanced icing like concentrated summer sunshine, driving away the last lingering chill deep within him.
"Is it good?" Hermione asked around her fork, her brown eyes watching him expectantly.
"Mm." Lynn nodded, his gaze falling on the bit of icing at the corner of her lips. "Very sweet."
At some point, the rain outside had stopped. Cool moonlight streamed through the glass window onto the dining table, blending with the warm yellow lamplight. The two quietly shared the cake, the air filled with orange sweetness and a peaceful understanding that needed no words. This moment of calm and sweetness soothed their taut nerves better than any potion could.
Over the following days, the shadow of the Ministry of Magic truly seemed to have been driven away by the sweet scent of Orange Cake and the warmth of the Granger home. Lynn's recovery entered a stable phase. The charred scar on his chest faded in color, and the spiderweb-like cracks had closed considerably, leaving behind only pale pink marks. The most encouraging change came from his depleted Magic Source.
With Hermione's tireless Mind Guidance and improved potions, an extremely faint but very real trickle finally began to emerge from the depths of that silent wasteland. At first, he could only occasionally gather a rice-grain-sized glimmer of silver light at his fingertips, and it would go out after a single flicker. A few days later, he could make a quill move several inches across the tabletop at an agonizingly slow pace. Every tiny improvement made Hermione as excited as if she had discovered a new continent, her eyes shining brilliantly.
"Look! It moved another centimeter!" She leaned beside the desk, using a Muggle ruler to precisely measure how far the quill had moved. She neatly wrote the data into her notebook. "The combination of lavender and chamomile really works! The intensity of Mind Guidance has also increased by 0.3 standard units!" Her so-called "standard units" were vague measurements she had created herself based on Lynn's description of "mental concentration."
Lynn watched her serious profile, her fluffy curls falling beside her face and gently swaying as she wrote. He did not point out the unscientific nature of her "standard units." He simply cooperated, feeling the faint but steadily circulating magic within him, like a spring seeping back into a dried-up riverbed. The Star Stone responded with a stable, warm resonance, as though it too were pleased by this slow recovery.
"Try this!" Hermione proudly produced a small Crystal Phial wrapped in silver thread. Inside, pale golden liquid rippled, refracting tiny halos of light in the sunlight. "Formula No. 3! It has a trace amount of legal Phoenix Tears dilution added! Madam Pomfrey sent it by owl! She said it might work wonders on deep magical injuries!"
Lynn accepted the bottle. The Crystal Phial felt warm and smooth in his hand, and the liquid inside gave off a pure, comforting aura. He pulled out the stopper and tipped it back. The liquid slid down his throat without any harsh stimulation, but it brought an indescribable comfort, as though he were soaking in gentle sunlight. A warm and powerful force instantly spread through every part of his body, softly washing through the tiny points of stagnation in his Magic Circuit. He could clearly feel that the faint stream of magic within him had been infused with life. Its flow quickened slightly and became more condensed.
"How is it?" Hermione watched his expression nervously.
Lynn closed his eyes and felt it for a moment. Then he slowly opened them and looked into her expectant eyes. He clearly spoke two words. "It works." He even raised a finger on his own initiative. With a slight movement of his mind, a ball of silver light, brighter and steadier than before, lit up at his fingertip. It lasted a full three seconds before gradually fading!
"That's brilliant!" Hermione was so excited she nearly jumped up. She grabbed Lynn's wrist, feeling the faint magical fluctuations lingering at his fingertips. Her face overflowed with immense joy and accomplishment. "I knew it! Phoenix Tears! Headmaster Dumbledore is incredible!"
Lynn's gaze dropped to the hand holding his wrist. He felt the warmth of her fingertips and her pure delight. He did not pull away. He simply quietly felt the genuine warmth and strength she brought him.
Afternoon sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves of the apple tree, casting shifting patches of light across the wooden floor of the study. Hermione sat at the desk, focused on writing back to Harry and Ron. She told them about her everyday summer life, leaving out the Ministry of Magic incident, complained about the boredom of holiday homework, and asked about the Weasley family's latest antics. Her quill scratched softly across the parchment.
Lynn sat in an armchair by the window, holding an old, heavily worn book brought from Camphor House—Basic Star Atlas, a Muggle introductory astronomy book. His eyes appeared to rest on the pages, but his attention was actually sunk inside his body, carefully sensing the stream of magic that had become a little livelier under Formula No. 3. It traveled through his dried-up circuits with difficulty yet stubborn persistence, like a trickle of water carving through an Ice Layer. Every circulation seemed to bring a faint but genuine sense of nourishment, and the Star Stone's warmth echoed in response.
Just then—
An extremely faint magical fluctuation carrying a powerful sense of distortion abruptly shattered the quiet of the study like a stone dropped into a still lake!
The fluctuation had not come from outside. It was more like... it had appeared out of thin air within the room itself! It carried an aura of panic and desperation!
Lynn suddenly looked up! Hermione stopped writing as well, frowning in confusion. "What was that sound?"
Almost at the same moment the two sensed something wrong, the air less than a foot above Lynn's desk was violently torn open as though by an invisible hand! A piercing ripping sound, like cloth being forcibly torn apart, rang out! Space twisted and churned violently!
Then, a small figure dressed in ragged pillowcase-like clothing was brutally thrown out as though by an invisible hand. With a terrified scream that rose into a shriek, it crashed headfirst toward the desk in front of Lynn!
Bang—crash!
Books, an ink bottle, Hermione's carefully prepared potion vials, and the half-eaten Orange Cake on the desk were instantly smashed into a chaotic mess! The ink bottle shattered, black ink spreading like venomous snakes; glass test tubes broke, their colorful potions mixing and flowing together; the cake was crushed to pulp, golden crumbs and white cream mixed with ink and potion, coating the tabletop and the suddenly appearing creature!
"Dobby!" A sharp, anguished cry filled with overwhelming terror came from the little creature lying amid the wreckage.
It was a House-elf! He had green eyes as large as tennis balls and bat-like ears, both now smeared with ink and cream, making him look absurd and miserable. His skeletal body shook violently with extreme fear. He struggled to climb up, only to slip again on the sticky cake and ink, leaving him even more pathetic.
Hermione was stunned by the sudden turn of events. She gave a short cry of alarm, and the quill in her hand fell to the floor.
Lynn's reaction, however, was unbelievably fast! In the instant space tore open, as the House-elf smashed into the desk and knocked over the ink bottle and sharp glass test tubes, he instinctively and desperately drew upon the thread of magic that had only just begun to revive inside him!
Hum!
An extremely thin layer of silver light instantly condensed into the toughest protective film, abruptly unfolding less than half a foot in front of Hermione!
Smack! Crash!
The splashing ink and shards of glass slammed into the silver light and were completely blocked! The black ink burst across its surface like ugly fireworks, unable to penetrate it in the slightest before sliding helplessly down.
Hermione was completely unharmed! She only took a step back in shock at the sudden scene before covering her mouth.
But Lynn's face turned paper-white the moment he forcibly activated that faint magic to form a shield! Tearing pain tore through the scar on his chest, which had only just begun to heal! It felt as though a massive boulder had been forced into a river channel that had only recently been cleared! He gave a muffled groan, his body swaying. He had to grip the armrest of the sofa with one hand to keep from collapsing. Fine cold sweat instantly appeared on his brow, and his breathing became rapid and labored. Beneath his collar, the Star Stone throbbed violently with a burning pain, like an overload warning!
"Lynn!" Hermione's cry immediately changed from shock to overwhelming fear and distress! Ignoring the ruined desk and the strange House-elf, she rushed to his side and supported his unsteady body. "How are you?! Is it magical backlash?! Don't scare me!"
Lynn breathed hard, forcing down the metallic taste rising in his throat. He shook his head with difficulty, but his gaze shot cold and sharp toward the House-elf beside the desk—Dobby—who was struggling to stand, covered in filth and terror!
Dobby finally managed to pull himself out of the mixture of ink and cake. His huge green eyes were full of tears, fear, and nearly desperate guilt. He looked at the ruined desk, then at Lynn, supported by Hermione, pale and clearly injured because of him. Then he looked at the fading silver shield before Hermione, still stained with ink.
"Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" He suddenly let out a wretched cry and began smashing his head wildly against the edge of a still-intact bookcase! "Dobby hurt the honored Son of Stars! Dobby nearly got the great Harry Potter's friend killed! Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby must punish himself!" The repeated thuds echoed through the study, making their hearts pound.
"Stop!" Hermione cried, both shocked and furious. "Who are you? What do you want?!"
Dobby stopped hurting himself at her shout. He curled into a ball, his enormous green eyes staring at them in terror as tears mixed with ink and cream ran down his face. "Dobby... Dobby is Harry Potter's friend! Dobby had to come and warn you! Hogwarts! Hogwarts is in terrible danger this year! Harry Potter must not go back! You... you must not go back either!" His words tumbled out incoherently, his voice shrill and trembling. "There is a conspiracy! Ancient Evil! People will die! Many people will die!"
"Danger? What danger? Explain yourself!" Hermione pressed, helping Lynn sit down while quickly examining his chest wound with concern. Beneath the bandages, the pale pink scar seemed to be taking on a faint, ominous dark-red hue again.
But Dobby shrank into himself even more, shaking his head frantically. "Dobby cannot say! Dobby is forbidden... Dobby can only warn you! Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts! You... you must be careful too!" His huge green eyes glanced fearfully toward the window, as though something terrifying were hunting him.
"Who forbade you? Who sent you?" Lynn's voice rang out, low and hoarse, cold despite the pain he was suppressing. His gaze, sharp as a sharp blade, locked onto Dobby.
Dobby shuddered all over. His eyes, when he looked at Lynn, were filled with reverence and even deeper fear. He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, then suddenly clapped both hands over it, making muffled noises. He looked fearfully at Lynn, then at Hermione, before suddenly seeming to make some kind of decision.
"Remember Dobby's warning! Danger! Hogwarts is dangerous!" He gave a piercing scream, sprang up, and snapped his filthy fingers with a loud crack!
Snap!
With a loud pop, as though the air itself had been crushed, Dobby's small figure twisted and vanished from the spot! All that remained in the study was a disastrous mess, a harsh mixed stench, and that warning echoing like a curse.
The study fell utterly silent. Broken glass, flowing ink, smashed cake, overturned books... it looked like ruins after a storm. Hermione supported the pale Lynn as both their eyes rested on the spot where Dobby had vanished, then slowly moved toward the clear sky beyond the window.
Hogwarts was in danger? Ancient Evil?
Dobby's terrified, twisted face and his shrill warning coiled around their hearts, which had only just found a moment of peace, like icy venomous snakes. Even the sweet fragrance of Orange Cake seemed completely buried beneath the harsh smell of ink and potions. The Star Stone against Lynn's chest gave a cold, heavy throb, like an ominous premonition.
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