The mess Dobby had made by tearing through space had been cleaned up, but his warning that "Hogwarts is dangerous" lingered like ink seeping into wood grain, leaving an indelible mark beneath the Granger family's peaceful facade. The Star Mark on Lynn's chest glowed a faint dark red after he had forcibly driven his magic, and every breath tugged at a subtle stabbing pain. Even the warmth from the Star Stone seemed to have taken on a sluggishness.
Hermione hardly left his side. She adjusted the potion formula, doubling the soothing ingredients of lavender and chamomile, while cautiously increasing the frequency of the diluted Phoenix Tears. Every morning, she appeared at Lynn's door with a warm potion and watched him drink it, her fingers unconsciously brushing the Moon White Stone at her neck as though the gesture could share his pain. Lynn cooperated in silence, but his gaze always lingered on the faint shadows beneath her eyes—the marks left by staying up late poring over the Compendium of Rare Magical Injury Cases and repeatedly calculating potion ratios.
"Feeling better?" This became Hermione's most frequent question, her voice hiding a cautious hope.
"Mm." Lynn's replies were always brief, but he would take the initiative to show her the faint silver light gathered at his fingertips, a little steadier than the day before, or make the quill on the table move another half inch. That tiny progress became the source of light that instantly brightened Hermione's exhausted eyes.
August slipped toward its end amid the scent of potions, turning pages, and silent companionship. Hogwarts' letter arrived right on schedule. Along with the timetable, the thick parchment envelope contained a carefully worded notice: due to "special security considerations," all students from second year onward were required to purchase basic Defense Against the Dark Arts protective equipment before term began. The list included items such as Dragonhide Gloves and an Anti-Curse Heartguard, things that had never been mandatory before.
"Look at this!" Hermione pointed at the list, her brows tightly furrowed. "Protective equipment... What is the Ministry of Magic worried about? Or is Hogwarts really..." She did not finish, instead looking at Lynn with anxious expectation, as if seeking confirmation. Dobby's warning and this list fit together like two perfectly matched puzzle pieces.
Lynn's fingertip passed over the cold words "Heartguard," and the Star Mark on his chest seemed to sting at the sight, throbbing faintly. More than anyone, he understood what this list meant—the Chamber of Secrets was about to open, and the Basilisk's gaze was enough to kill. But for now, he could only lower his lashes to hide the heaviness in his eyes. "It can't hurt to be thoroughly prepared."
On the day they returned to Diagon Alley, London was blessed with a rare clear sky. The sunlight scattered the gloom of the past several days, but the bustling crowds and colorful shop windows could not entirely ease the tension in Hermione's heart. She stayed pressed close to Lynn, as though the packed crowd might sweep him away at any moment. Wendell and Monica followed behind with the shopping trolley, their gazes occasionally sweeping worriedly over Lynn's still-pale profile.
Flourish and Blotts was packed solid at the entrance. A huge, glaring banner hung overhead: "GILDEROY LOCKHART BOOK SIGNING! LOCK UP YOUR HEARTBEAT!" At the center of the crowd, the man in forget-me-not blue robes flashed dazzling white teeth and struck poses like a peacock displaying its feathers while camera flashes crackled around him.
"Merlin's beard... It really is him!" Hermione gasped, her tone mixed with disbelief and the first budding traces of admiration. Her schoolbag still held Lockhart's Break with a Banshee, its pages stuffed with slips of paper marking key spell notes.
Lynn watched Lockhart's flamboyant performance, the corner of his mouth dipping almost imperceptibly. He knew this so-called "Defense Against the Dark Arts master" inside out—a fraud who had built his reputation by stealing other people's adventures and using Memory Charms. But his silence was mistaken by Hermione for physical discomfort.
"Is the crowd making you uncomfortable?" She immediately grabbed Lynn's wrist in alarm. The pulse beneath her fingertips reassured her slightly. "Let's go around. We'll buy the protective equipment first!"
Just as they turned to leave, a familiar voice filled with delight pierced the noise. "Hermione! Lynn!"
Harry Potter squeezed through the crowd and rushed over, his emerald eyes shining behind round glasses. Ron, his red hair blazing like fire, followed close behind with the excitement of coming home written all over his face.
"You're here shopping too?" Ron grinned, glancing at the protective equipment list in Hermione's hand before making a face. "Merlin, this list is scarier than my mum's Christmas jumper list! Fred and George said it must be Lockhart's doing, just so he can sell more of his books..." He jerked his chin toward Lockhart, who was being fawned over inside the bookshop.
Harry, meanwhile, sharply noticed Lynn's unusual pallor and Hermione's protective posture at his side. His smile faded somewhat as he lowered his voice. "Lynn... are you all right?" He still vividly remembered the horrific scene in the underground chamber before the summer holidays.
"Recovering." Lynn was concise as ever, his gaze passing over the lightning scar hidden beneath Harry's fringe. The heart of the storm was already drawing near.
The Weasley family quickly gathered around them. Mrs. Weasley warmly embraced Hermione and Lynn, squeezing hard enough to make Lynn grunt as the Star Mark on his chest flared with pain. She immediately let go, her freckled face full of concern. "Oh, dear! Arthur told me about those idi... er, those things at the Ministry of Magic! And your injury! Let Aunt Molly have a look. I brought special Skele-Gro and Calming Draught..." She began rummaging through the enormous handbag that seemed bottomless.
The twins, Fred and George, poked their heads out from behind their mother and grinned as they sized Lynn up. "Heard you took the Killing Curse from You-Know-Who head-on?" Fred whistled, genuine amazement in his eyes. "That's brilliant!" George added, producing two oddly wrapped sweets from his pocket as if by magic. "Want one? Trial version of Courage Nougat! Guaranteed to make you feel like you can take on a dragon alone for a while—the side effect might be green hair. Nothing serious!"
"Fred! George!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.
Lynn looked at the sweets held out before him, then at the twins' mischievous yet kind eyes. To everyone's surprise, he reached out and accepted them. As their fingertips touched, George gave the back of Lynn's hand a nearly imperceptible press and whispered, "Mum said your magic was badly injured... There's some Comfrey Essence in these sweets to restore magic. We stole... er, took inspiration from Madam Pomfrey's formula." It was concern hidden beneath the shell of a prank, clumsy but sincere.
The tightness at the corners of Hermione's mouth finally softened into a faint smile. Mr. Weasley, meanwhile, pulled Wendell along and excitedly pointed at the magically concealed entrance to The Leaky Cauldron across the street, launching into an endless explanation of the "ingenious" reactions of bewitched Muggle objects. Wendell listened with keen interest.
This brief, lively bustle felt like a ray of warm sunlight piercing the dark clouds hanging over Lynn and Hermione. Hermione quietly loosened the fingers gripping Lynn's wrist, then gently hooked her little finger around his instead. Lynn did not pull away. Her touch was slightly cool, and he could feel the faint tremble in her fingers. Beneath their clothes and across the crowd, the Moon White Stone and Star Stone gave off a weak yet synchronized pulse of warmth.
The final major stop on their shopping trip was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Dark velvet curtains shut out the noise outside, while the air carried the faint fragrance of new fabric and insect-repelling herbs. Hermione stood on a small stool while a floating magical pin measured and fitted her new school robes. The thick dark green wool made her complexion seem even fairer, and her fluffy brown curls glowed warmly beneath the soft lights.
Lynn sat quietly in an armchair in the corner, waiting with a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them in his hands, which Hermione had insisted on buying. Yet his gaze kept unconsciously drifting past the edge of the pages to the figure on the stool. She tilted her head slightly upward to cooperate with the pin's movements, her profile focused and gentle. Occasionally, she would frown faintly at the pin's tiny pricks, only to relax again moments later. An unfamiliar, soft warmth spread slowly through his silent heart like honey dropped into clear water. The Star Stone seemed to sense his peaceful gaze, sending out a steady warm pulse, and even the hidden pain in his chest appeared to ease somewhat.
"It fits perfectly, dear," Madam Malkin said, using her wand to make one final adjustment along Hermione's shoulder line. "The thicker material will stand up to the cold winds of the Scottish Highlands, and the protective magical patterns around the cuffs and collar have been woven in as well. They can ward off some basic curse splashes." She turned to Lynn. "Your turn, young man."
Lynn put down his book and stood. When he stepped onto the stool and the cold metal measuring tape automatically wound around him, Hermione did not immediately start reading her newly bought A Year with the Abominable Snowman as usual. Instead, she stood nearby clutching the book, her eyes following the tape's movements as though the cold tool might hurt him. When it tightened around his chest, she visibly held her breath, her fingers unconsciously twisting the pages. Only after the tape loosened and she confirmed that his expression had not changed did she quietly let out a breath.
Those subtle worries and protections wrapped around Lynn layer by layer like invisible threads. He lowered his eyes and felt the warm pulse from the Star Stone beneath his clothes, synchronized with Hermione's Moon White Stone. A warm current called reassurance quietly drove away the chill brought by the shadow of the Chamber of Secrets.
When they left the robe shop, the setting sun had dyed Diagon Alley's cobblestones a warm orange-gold. The Weasley family was still next door at Eeylops Owl Emporium, choosing a birthday gift for Percy, and their noisy chatter drifted faintly over. Hermione carried the bag containing her school robes, her steps a little lighter as she turned to Lynn. "Do you want to go to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour? I heard they have a new raspberry nut-crunch flavor..."
Before she could finish, a small figure burst out like a ghost from the dark alley beside them, where discarded wooden crates were piled high! It was Dobby the House-elf!
His tennis-ball-sized green eyes were bloodshot, and he looked even more terrified and desperate than before. His withered hand clutched the tattered pillowcase-like garment around him as his voice scraped out sharply, like sandpaper rubbing together, thick with desperate sobs.
"Bad Dobby came again! Bad Dobby must warn them! Danger! Inside Hogwarts' walls... Ancient Evil is breathing! It is waiting... listening! Do not go back! Harry Potter must not go back! The Son of Stars must not either! People will die... Many people will die!" His enormous ears twitched nervously as he suddenly slammed his head against the hard brick wall beside him. "Punish bad Dobby! Punish Dobby for saying too much!"
Bang! Bang! The dull impacts were horrifying.
"Stop! Dobby!" Hermione cried out, instinctively trying to rush over and stop him.
But Lynn caught her wrist. His grip was not hard, but it carried an unquestionable command to stop. His cold gaze shot toward Dobby like a sharp blade, piercing through the House-elf's hysterical performance and striking directly at the root of fear buried deep in his bones—the Malfoy family. As Dobby struck the wall, Lynn clearly saw the deeply branded M on the skin exposed beneath his ragged sleeve.
Dobby froze abruptly beneath Lynn's gaze! Green blood seeped from his bruised forehead as his huge green eyes stared at Lynn in terror, like a frog fixed beneath a snake's stare. He understood the silent warning in Lynn's eyes: your master.
"Remember... remember Dobby's words!" Dobby let out a shriek of grief so sharp it broke apart, then snapped his green-bloodied fingers.
Crack!
After a soft burst in the air, Dobby's figure twisted and vanished in an instant, leaving only dust drifting through the depths of the alley and the lingering echo of a curse—
"Evil inside the walls... is breathing!"
The warmth of the sunset seemed to be drained away in an instant, and icy fear crawled up Hermione's spine. Her hand trembled as she tightly gripped Lynn's, as though it were the only piece of driftwood left to her. Lynn pulled her closer, using his body to shield her from the dark alley. He lifted his head toward the direction of the ancient, unseen castle at the end of Diagon Alley, his gaze as heavy as iron. The Star Stone against his chest gave a cold, sluggish pulse, like an omen of scales scraping against stone walls deep underground.
Within Hogwarts' walls, the door to the Chamber of Secrets had already begun to loosen.
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