The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 276 A Sudden Experiment

Chapter 276 A Sudden Experiment (5K) (2/2)

At the edge of the forbidden forest, the air was slightly distorted, accompanied by two almost overlapping soft sounds.

Lynch's true form appeared steadily on the gnarled branches of a tall oak tree, the soles of his leather shoes lightly touching the damp bark, as if he were weightless, standing on the branch.

Almost simultaneously, the air around him rippled again, and the clone that had been transferred from the Quidditch pitch appeared. But the moment its form solidified, it suddenly dissipated and shrank, turning into a thick shadow, which then reshaped into a sharp-eyed black raven.

The raven flapped its wings, took flight lightly, and then quietly landed on Lynch's shoulder, tilting its head and using its beak to tidy its wind-blown feathers.

Lin Qi seemed oblivious to the return of his clone. He raised a single index finger with a blank expression, the movement casual yet elegant.

An invisible, almost completely transparent magical barrier expanded slightly from him like a bubble, gently pushing aside the sparse, cold raindrops still falling from the sky.

Outside the barrier, rain drizzled; inside, it was dry and quiet.

He raised his head, his deep gaze piercing through the sparse rain and intertwined branches, landing on the leaden sky above the Forbidden Forest.

There, the Dementors, temporarily dispersed by Dumbledore's powerful Patronus Charm, began to gather again, like disturbed rotting flies. Their tattered black silhouettes writhed beneath the low-hanging clouds, radiating a despair colder than the rain, lingering as if still coveting the joyous atmosphere emanating from the Quidditch pitch.

"Something restless—" Lin Qi muttered to himself, his voice calm and even.

His raised right hand, the tip of his fingertips already forming the beginnings of a silver glow—a powerful Patronus Charm was almost complete, ready to drive these ominous things away from the boundaries of Hogwarts.

But just before the incantation was about to be uttered, his movements suddenly stopped.

The silver light at her fingertips faded away quietly, like a candle flame extinguished by the wind.

A brand new idea, imbued with a chilling sense of inquiry, suddenly coiled around his thoughts like vines sprouting in the darkness.

As everyone knows, there is only one way in the magical world to deal with Dementors: the Patronus Charm. There is no other method.

Even the Guardian Spell only repels animals. It's like using fire to scare away wild beasts, but it can't actually harm them in the slightest.

So—can these creatures, who feed on pleasure and spread despair, be harmed by despair themselves or by each other?

Once the idea took hold, it quickly took root.

Expelling them is too boring; perhaps we can take this opportunity to conduct a small experiment.

A barely perceptible smile appeared on Lin Qi's lips.

He lowered his raised hand and instead gently tapped his temple with his index finger. He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the ocean of memories, precisely capturing and replicating a pure and bright happy recollection—not his core memory, but just a sufficiently "delicious" fragment.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, as if by magic, he produced a crystal-clear glass bottle the size of a baby's fist from thin air.

The cork was pulled out, and he held the bottle opening to the air rim, "injecting" the replicated, shimmering memory of happiness into it as if it were a tangible thing.

Immediately afterward, he enveloped the bottle with his palm, and a cold, murky magical energy surged forth, like ink soaking into clear water, quickly covering the glass bottle with a thick layer of dark emotion that seemed to absorb light—a carefully crafted mixture of fear, despair, and pain, perfectly enveloping and concealing the "sweetness" within.

The bait.

At this moment, the glass bottle appears to the outside world as an ominous object radiating negative emotions, but at its core lies an irresistible temptation for the Dementors.

Lin Qi twitched his fingertips slightly, casting a silent levitation spell.

The small bottle, containing the "core of happiness" and the "shell of darkness," rose silently as if pulled by invisible threads, drifting precisely and slowly toward the swarming Dementors.

It attracted no extra attention because its intense negative emotions blended perfectly into the despair field inherent in the Dementor horde, like a drop of ink merging into a dark ocean.

Lynch precisely controlled it, carefully avoiding the restless individuals on the periphery. Finally, he guided it like a ghost, silently disappearing into the ethereal "body" beneath the tattered cloak of a particularly tall Dementor located slightly inside the group.

Icy.

An eternal void.

eager.

That's all there is to its existence.

It and its kind float here, driven by instinct, savoring the faint warmth they had just absorbed—a glimmer of what they called "joy and hope," the only thing they could perceive that could temporarily fill the endless emptiness within them.

The terrifying, silvery-white heat that had just filled the sky—Dumbledore's Patronus—forced them to retreat, but their yearning did not disappear; instead, it became even sharper from the frustration.

Just then, it felt something "merge" into itself.

At first glance, that thing felt very familiar.

The despair and fear that envelop them is the "atmosphere" they depend on for survival, just as water is to fish.

It instinctively accepted this homogeneous scent.

But then, something unexpected happened.

That familiar dark shell, within its pure essence of despair, melted and crumbled as quickly as a fragile piece of ice.

Then----

A feeling—a feeling it had always longed for and constantly sought—emerged!

It's right inside its body!

So close, so pure, so intense!

It was a concentrated burst of radiant, warm joy!

It's like the most exquisite delicacy being stuffed directly into its cold and empty "body"!

In an instant, the ultimate temptation and the ultimate sense of frustration erupted simultaneously!

The happiness is right there, within reach—no, not even within reach, it's "inside"!

It instinctively wanted to absorb, to devour, to fill its emptiness with this warmth.

It frantically mobilized its essence, trying to "taste" and "digest" this delicious treat that was so close at hand.

But it's impossible!

Just as a person cannot swallow their own stomach, they cannot use their instinct to absorb pleasure to absorb what has become a part of their own existence.

That ball of joy radiated an alluring light and heat within it, scorching its cold essence, but all its "devouring" actions were like stones sinking into the sea, even seeming to intensify that burning sensation.

It circled the light in vain, each attempt to approach and absorb it bringing not satisfaction, but deeper anxiety and a stronger, insatiable desire!

It "possesses" what it desires most, yet cannot enjoy even a fraction of it.

This contradiction drove it almost to madness; its body began to tremble and twist uncontrollably, radiating chaotic and painful mental fluctuations.

However, what's even more terrifying is that this released, unenjoyable aura of pleasure is irresistibly and unprecedentedly alluring to all its kind around it! It's like in a pack of hungry wolves, one wolf suddenly exudes the richest aroma of flesh and blood.

It sensed the "attention" of all its kind around it—that greedy, hungry, cold intent—

In an instant, like countless sharp needles, they pierced its "body," firmly locking onto the source of pleasure that was "burning" inside it, a source it could not reach.

It is no longer one of them.

It transformed into a mobile delicacy that could not devour itself.

Lin Qi stood on the treetop, using his soul armor to conceal the aura of his soul, and calmly observed.

The Dementor that had just merged into the bottle suddenly stiffened, then began to tremble and contort violently and unnaturally. Its tattered black cloak billowed wildly, as if it were enduring some kind of extreme torment and anxiety inside.

The next second, all the Dementors surrounding it seemed to receive a unified command, and their originally slow swimming movements began to become violent!

Like iron filings drawn to a magnet, they frantically pounced on the trembling creature of their kind, which exuded the scent of bait!

Countless pale, sticky hands, with a suction-cup-like instinct, reached out from under the tattered cloak, trying to grab and pierce the body of that unfortunate fellow, wanting to possess that ultimate pleasure for themselves.

They collided and squeezed against each other, emitting a silent hiss. Their cold and desperate mental energy fields interfered with and overlapped with each other, forming an even more suffocating area in the air.

The Dementor being besieged struggled and twisted violently under the frenzied "attention" of its kind, its form sometimes blurring and sometimes solidifying, enduring immense mental pressure.

However, Lynch astutely observed that they ultimately could not truly harm each other.

No matter how they tear and squeeze, their essence—that non-material form composed of despair and darkness—determines that they cannot destroy each other like physical organisms.

Their attacks are more like an extreme form of interference, coverage, and rejection.

The Dementor implanted with happiness was not "eaten up" or dissipated as expected. Instead, it was repeatedly washed away and permeated by the cold will of countless others of its kind. Its own consciousness and sense of existence became fragmented under the impact of collective greed, like mist torn apart by a gale, but its core "existence" still stubbornly persisted.

The cluster of happy memories within it, under the onslaught of such dense and chaotic negative energy, flickered like a candle in the wind, its light rapidly dimming until finally, with a "poof," it was completely annihilated, utterly assimilated by the overwhelming despair.

It's resolved.

With the disappearance of the source of happiness, the allure of madness vanishes abruptly.

The gathered Dementors froze, their extreme agitation subsiding, returning to their previous numbness.

They floated in an empty, hollow state. They seemed to have forgotten their earlier madness, instinctively scattering and continuing to wander aimlessly above the Forbidden Forest.

The surviving Dementor appeared somewhat weak; its movements were much slower than before, and its form was erratic. It was still there, but it exuded a deeper sense of emptiness, as if it had been "hollowed out."

Lin Qi raised an eyebrow slightly, not surprised by the result, but it actually confirmed a conjecture.

The Guardian Charm is a banishment of light, while his experiment was a kind of dark "torture" and "consumption" based on their instincts.

Although it cannot cause them to kill each other to destruction, it can effectively trigger internal friction and greatly weaken them, especially the individual implanted with happiness, whose very existence was almost destroyed by the collective shock just now, and it will take a long time to recover.

This seems to involve more than just expulsion—a sense of control.

Although it is also an extremely inefficient method.

The rain finally stopped, and sunlight dappled through the gaps in the dark clouds, casting dappled patterns on the forbidden forest.

Lynch stood on the treetop, like an observer detached from the situation, silently hidden among the interplay of light and shadow. Only the raven on his shoulder reflected the group of black figures in the sky that had regained their "calm" but were even more scattered and weak than before.

The experimental observations have concluded, and the conclusions are clear.

Lynch knew it was time to finish the "surface work"—to completely banish these ominous creatures from the boundaries of Hogwarts, and to put a reasonable end to his own appearance and "intervention" there.

He suppressed the cold emotions he had been using for the experiment, his consciousness sank into his sea of ​​consciousness, and easily seized a positive memory strong enough to support a high-level guardian spell—that shoemaker's workshop with its dim yellow hue, bright and resolute enough.

Then, he raised his hand, not to use a wand, but to bring his index and middle fingers together and draw in the air as if holding a pen.

Patronus

The incantation was uttered softly, yet it carried an undeniable power.

Silver light surged from his fingertips, not like the torrent of Dumbledore's bursting sun, but more condensed and precise.

The light rapidly converged and shaped in the air, transforming into a raven composed entirely of dazzling silver radiance. It resembled the clone on his shoulder but was filled with a completely different, warm, and powerful protective force.

The silver raven guardian let out a clear, soul-piercing cry, spread its wings, and soared into the sky, flying straight towards the group of Dementors still lingering above the Forbidden Forest.

However, just as Lynch had faced on the Hogwarts Express, without a wand as a medium for focusing and amplifying, his Patronus Charm, though exquisite, could not compare to Dumbledore's overwhelming burst of power in terms of pure "strength."

Unlike the Phoenix Guardian, the silver raven cannot sweep away all darkness with a single burst of light.

It cannot carry out destructive dispersal; it can only perform more skillful guidance and oppression.

The silver raven nimbly circled and weaved around the edge of the Dementor horde. The warm silver light emanating from its body acted as an invisible barrier, causing the Dementors to instinctively retreat and avoid it, emitting silent waves of disgust and fear.

The raven guardians cleverly exploited their photophobia, like an experienced sheepdog, constantly maneuvering and intimidating them, squeezing their space, breaking them up from their group, and step by step, steadfastly driving them towards the opposite direction of Hogwarts—that distant border.

It would sometimes swoop down, startling away the small groups of Dementors trying to regroup; at other times it would soar high, scattering patches of silver light to block their path to the castle. The whole process resembled a precise and patient hunt to drive them away, rather than a thunderous sweep.

Lynch stood atop a treetop, calmly controlling everything.

He could sense that without the aid of a wand, maintaining this level of guardian spirit and performing precise control required significantly more mental energy.

Although these expenditures are a small amount for me, I still feel somewhat uncomfortable.

Finally, driven relentlessly by the silver raven, the remaining Dementors, their shadows growing ever fainter and their resentment ever more intense, were banished from the magical boundaries of Hogwarts and vanished into the darker corners of the Forbidden Forest.

The silver raven guardian completed its mission, circled once in the air, transformed into streaks of light, and dissipated into the fresh air after the rain.

Lin Qi lowered his hand, took one last look at the now calm sky, and with a slight sway, disappeared silently from the treetops as if merging into the light, leaving no trace.

His figure appeared at the edge of the forbidden forest, walking towards the castle on the rain-soaked, slightly muddy grass.

The air after the rain carried the fresh scent of earth and grass, a stark contrast to the chilling despair that had hung over the forbidden forest just moments before.

Lynch walked with ease, his expression returning to its usual calm, as if the secret experiment had never happened.

Just as he passed the meadow not far from the Whomping Willow, a slightly short but agile figure hurriedly ran away from the guard zone of the famously grumpy willow—it was Professor Flitwick. He waved his wand, and a faint light drew a pile of things that were clearly broom fragments—a broken broom handle, a shattered tail, and twisted metal parts—to hover behind him, looking utterly wretched.

"Oh! Professor Lynch!" Professor Flitwick stopped abruptly upon seeing Lynch, his high-pitched voice tinged with a hint of breathlessness and exasperation. "You came from over there? Perfect timing, look at this!" He pointed with his wand at the floating pile of debris, his face full of regret. "Harry's broom—was it called Gale?" What a fine broom, what a pity! The Whomping Willow—alas, completely ruined. I was just about to tidy up these pieces, at least to prevent them from being scattered everywhere."

Lynch's gaze fell on the pile of fragments, his eyes flickering almost imperceptibly. He recognized it; it was the Windrush broom he had given Harry.

Now it has lost all its luster, leaving only fragmented remains, silently recounting the perilous fall from the sky and the ferocity of the Man-Beating Willow.

"It's a real pity." Lin Qi's voice was calm, revealing little emotion.

He didn't say much, but simply raised his hand, his fingertips tracing a simple path in the air. A faint light flashed, and a seemingly ordinary but unusually large gray cloth bag appeared out of thin air in his hand, its mouth open.

"Use this, Professor Flitwick," Lynch said, handing over the bag. "It'll be easier."