The students behind him widened their eyes, watching the scene with shock-filled faces.
Under the moonlight, amid the flames, that lone figure on a broomstick stood locked in combat with a giant dragon condensed from Fiendfyre.
Cedric was the first to react.
He suddenly raised his wand, pointing the tip at the dragon.
"Finite Incantatem—!"
A beam of light shot from his wand, striking the dragon's body.
The dragon's struggle faltered for a brief moment.
Immediately after—
"Finite Incantatem!"
"Finite Incantatem!"
"Finite Incantatem!"
Fleur, Ryan, Thomas, Krum...
Beam after beam of light shot out from behind Lynn, condensed barriers pressing against the dragon's massive frame.
The lights interwove, working in tandem with Lynn's barrier to firmly suppress the frantically struggling Fiendfyre dragon.
The dragon let out a shrill, drawn-out wail.
Its body began to twist, deform, and disintegrate.
Black flames peeled off it piece by piece, dissipating into the air. Its massive frame grew smaller and blurrier until finally—
BOOM—!!!
An earth-shattering roar erupted.
In the blink of an eye, the dragon was forced down into the Black Lake by Lynn!
The impact kicked up a towering wave, splashing water over ten meters high! The lake's surface shook violently, ripples spreading outward in circles, refusing to settle for a long while.
The small boats were lifted clean off the water's surface, riding the momentum of the impact to speed away from the burning ship.
By the time everyone made it back to shore, Professor McGonagall and several Durmstrang professors were already rushing over anxiously from not far off.
Professor McGonagall ran at the front, her robes billowing behind her.
Her usually meticulous bun had come somewhat undone, fine beads of sweat breaking out across her forehead—she'd clearly sprinted the whole way after hearing the news.
Her gaze swept over the crowd, locking first onto the four Hogwarts students.
Cedric, Harry, Roger, and—
Lynn.
She hurried over to them, looking them up and down, her voice carrying an urgency she couldn't quite hide. "Are you all unhurt?"
Cedric gave a sheepish grin and scratched his head. "No, Professor McGonagall. We're perfectly fine."
Harry shook his head to show he was all right. Roger spread his hands, showing he hadn't lost so much as a hair.
Lynn followed suit and shook his head.
Professor McGonagall's gaze swept over them a few more times, and only once she'd confirmed there were no obvious injuries did her heart settle, slightly.
Only slightly.
She took a deep breath, her expression turning stern.
"Mr. Lynn."
Lynn looked up.
Professor McGonagall looked at him, weighing every word. "I must remind you—and all of you—"
Her gaze swept across the other three.
"If you ever run into something this dangerous again, do not approach it. Leave it to the professors."
Lynn had far too much experience with Professor McGonagall's warnings; he nodded rapidly.
"Yes, yes, yes, the Professor's right."
Cedric and the other two followed suit, nodding like woodpeckers.
"Right, right, right, it won't happen again."
"I guarantee it."
"Absolutely not."
Professor McGonagall watched their well-behaved little performance, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly.
She knew these students far too well.
Especially Lynn.
That kind of "guarantee" was purely for show.
But she said nothing more, only sighing and waving a hand. "Fine. All of you, go to the school infirmary and let Madam Pomfrey check you over thoroughly. The professors will handle the rest."
—
The next morning.
Sunlight spilled through the castle's high windows into the corridors, gilding the new day in warm gold.
After waking, many Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students habitually drifted toward the windows, wanting to catch the first rays of morning sun.
They drew back the curtains, pushed the windows open, and took a deep breath of fresh air—then froze.
Looking down from the towers, the Black Lake still shimmered, the Forbidden Forest was still lush and green, the distant mountains still rolled on as ever.
But something seemed to be missing.
Thinking it over, they realized: the Durmstrang magical ship, anchored in the Black Lake for nearly a year, was gone.
In its place sat a pile of charred wreckage on the shore.
The wreckage lay in a haphazard heap; some parts still gave off wisps of black smoke, and fine ash drifted on the breeze.
A faint smell of burning lingered in the air.
The students who spotted it were nearly dumbstruck.
They rubbed their eyes once, then again.
Then a wild thought crept into their heads: that pile of wreckage—it couldn't actually be the Durmstrang ship, could it?
The news spread across Hogwarts at lightning speed.
By the time students reached the Great Hall, almost everyone was talking about it.
"Have you heard? The Durmstrang ship's gone!"
"What do you mean, gone?"
"Just gone! Burned to ash!"
"For real?!"
"Really! I saw it myself! There's a pile of wreckage on the shore, still smoking!"
"What about the Durmstrang students?"
"I don't know... I heard..." someone lowered their voice, "I heard they all died."
The Great Hall fell silent for an instant.
Then—
the Durmstrang students walked in.
They wore pajamas of various colors, filing into the Great Hall in twos and threes and sitting down at the long tables.
Though everyone looked worn out, eyes a little red, spirits low, they were all clearly alive.
The rumor of "all perished" collapsed on the spot.
Krum sat at the Slytherin table, his expression dark enough to drip ink. The Durmstrang students around him looked much the same—taciturn, the atmosphere heavy and oppressive.
A bold student leaned over and asked, "Your ship... is it really gone?"
Krum looked up and glanced at him.
The student pulled his neck back but didn't bolt.
A few seconds of silence.
Krum finally spoke. "The ship was indeed incinerated."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried far enough for everyone nearby to hear.
"Last night, a Dark wizard used the Fiendfyre Curse on it..."
Fiendfyre.
The moment the word left his mouth, everything around them went quiet.
Many students who didn't know what Fiendfyre was began asking in low voices. Once they learned what kind of magic it was, they all sucked in a breath.
"Fiendfyre's one of the most evil, dangerous fire spells there is," a Ravenclaw student explained under her breath. "It can burn through almost anything and is nearly impossible to control. Once it gets loose, even the caster can end up burned alive."
"And they actually survived... that kind of fire?"
Whispers rippled through the hall.
Just then, Draco Malfoy, sitting beside Krum, spoke up. "You're really lucky you're not dead."
There was no mockery in it, just an observation, but Krum's face darkened even further at the words.
He stared at Malfoy without answering.
Just then, a witch nearby spoke up. "Actually, it had nothing to do with luck."
Draco turned his head.
"Last night, it was Lynn who saved us."
Her tone was certain, tinged with deep gratitude.
Draco paused for a moment, then nodded. "That's not surprising, then."
The witch's eyes lit up.
"By the way, do you happen to have Lynn's contact information? Could you share it?"
"No."
The light in her eyes dimmed instantly, and she let out a disappointed sigh.
Just then—the doors to the Great Hall swung open again.
Everyone turned their heads at once.
Lynn and Edgar's group of three walked in, laughing and chatting.
They seemed completely oblivious to the mood in the hall, talking as they walked. Edgar said something, and Lynn laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.
Then—
Lynn stopped in his tracks.
Because he'd noticed the entire Great Hall had suddenly gone silent. Every pair of eyes was fixed on him.
He blinked, looking a bit bewildered.
"What's wrong?"
The moment he spoke—every Durmstrang wizard in the hall stood up at once.
Then, facing Lynn from across the room, they bowed deeply.
Edgar and the other two stood beside Lynn, utterly stunned.
They looked at the bowing Durmstrang students, then at Lynn, then back at the students, mouths hanging open wide enough to fit an egg.
The same thought crossed all three of their minds:
Lynn couldn't have picked a fight with the Durmstrang champion so badly during the Triwizard Tournament that the whole school was now begging him to go easy, could he?
---
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