Chapter 395

Chapter 395: Chapter 395

Although Lynn was intensely curious about the Ancient Magic the wizard had mentioned, the man gave him no opportunity to ask about it.

His wand rose once more, its tip aimed directly at Lynn, while his narrowed eyes seemed determined to see through every secret he possessed.

"Who are you?" the wizard demanded, lowering his voice. "Where did you come from, and who taught you magic?"

Lynn stared at him in silence.

The man was not bluffing. He genuinely wanted an answer, and unless Lynn offered one he considered satisfactory, he clearly had no intention of letting the matter rest.

The problem was that Lynn had no idea how to explain himself.

Was he supposed to say that he had come from a thousand years in the future, where he attended a school called Hogwarts under a headmaster named Albus Dumbledore?

Salazar Slytherin would never believe such an absurd story. Even Lynn, despite having personally experienced it, sometimes found the situation difficult to accept.

Since he could not provide a believable answer, he chose to ask a question of his own.

"And who are you?" Lynn countered. "Why did you attack me without warning?"

The wizard frowned.

"You were the one who pointed a wand at me first. More importantly, I saw you forcing a young witch to cook for you."

Lynn fell silent.

So now he was being blamed for exercising a little caution?

And what did the man mean by forcing a young witch to cook for him? Was he blind? Could he not see that Lynn had been teaching his student?

The wizard shifted his attention toward the large boulder behind Lynn. Agnis was still hiding there, with only half of one eye peeking cautiously around its edge.

"She is a descendant of the Trelawney family," he said, his tone becoming cold once more. "The gift of prophecy runs through her bloodline, and such power must not be allowed to disappear."

Lynn raised an eyebrow at the familiar surname.

Trelawney.

He immediately thought of Sybill Trelawney, Hogwarts’ Divination professor—the peculiar woman with enormous spectacles who constantly muttered ominous predictions as though every conversation were part of a ritual.

Sybill was said to be descended from a famous Seer. Considering the thousand years separating this era from Lynn’s own, Agnis might very well be one of her distant ancestors.

"Where do you intend to take her?" Lynn asked.

"To where she belongs," the wizard replied. "A place where she can study magic, understand it, and learn to control it."

"Hogwarts?"

The wizard’s mouth twitched.

"You know of Hogwarts?"

"I’ve heard of it," Lynn replied.

He had done considerably more than hear about it. He was a student there.

The wizard examined him for several seconds before finally looking away.

"Hogwarts was founded only recently," he explained, speaking more slowly. "Godric, Salazar, Rowena, and Helga are preparing to accept more students. The girl can receive a proper magical education there."

Lynn frowned, though not because Hogwarts had only recently been founded. Another part of the man’s statement had caught his attention.

Salazar.

Salazar Slytherin.

He looked the wizard up and down with renewed suspicion.

"Don’t tell me you’re Salazar Slytherin."

Slytherin’s expression stiffened. An oppressive atmosphere gathered around him, conveying a very clear question: Are you mocking me?

"If you already knew who I was," he asked in an unfriendly tone, "why did you fight me?"

"You were the one who started it!" Lynn retorted. "You pointed your wand at me. What was I supposed to do—smile pleasantly while you cursed me?"

Slytherin’s mouth twitched again.

Damn it, the brat actually had a point. If someone aimed a wand at you, resisting the urge to retaliate would be the truly remarkable response.

Even so, Slytherin had lived for many years and encountered countless strange people, yet he had never met anyone who could recognise his identity and still fight him so ruthlessly.

He drew a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

"So," he said through clenched teeth, "will you allow her to come with me?"

"Of course," Lynn answered immediately, without the slightest hesitation.

Slytherin’s shoulders relaxed.

Before he could fully exhale, Lynn continued.

"However, I have one condition."

Slytherin’s expression tightened again.

"Speak."

"I’m going to Hogwarts as well." Lynn met his gaze without flinching. "There are certain matters for which I need your assistance."

Slytherin did not answer immediately. His eyes lingered on Lynn’s face while an intense internal struggle unfolded behind his otherwise controlled expression.

He was not worried that Lynn might endanger the students at Hogwarts. Although Slytherin had failed to defeat him alone, the situation would be entirely different with all four founders present. No matter how powerful this mysterious young wizard might be, he would not last long against their combined strength.

Slytherin was concerned about something far more personal.

What if Lynn went to Hogwarts and told the students about the unfortunate condition of his robes?

Salazar Slytherin was one of the four founders of Hogwarts, among the most powerful wizards alive, an advocate of pure-blood supremacy, a Parselmouth, and a master of the Dark Arts.

If the students discovered that an unknown young man had torn open the back of his robes and exposed his undergarments, what would become of his dignity?

Unfortunately, Lynn looked exactly like the kind of shameless person who would tell everyone.

His mouth was simply too loose. During their brief battle alone, he had already called Slytherin a green-robed rat and an old man, while also comparing Fiendfyre to a gas stove. Every remark had landed precisely where it would irritate him most.

Trusting such a person to keep a humiliating secret required an extraordinary amount of courage.

Lynn watched Slytherin’s expression shift repeatedly between agreement and refusal before quickly guessing the cause of his hesitation.

"Don’t worry." A knowing smile appeared on his face. "Once we reach Hogwarts, I won’t mention anything unnecessary."

Slytherin stared at him, his eyes plainly asking why anyone should believe that.

"I swear on my parents’ lives."

Lynn’s expression became solemn. He raised his right hand, pressed three fingers together, and declared to the heavens, "If I break this oath, may both my parents drop dead on the spot."

Slytherin’s gaze changed immediately.

This young man was truly ruthless. He was willing to gamble his own parents’ lives merely to enter Hogwarts.

After another period of silence, Slytherin finally nodded.

"Very well," he said, his tone still cold but no longer openly hostile. "You may come with us."

Satisfied, Lynn lowered his wand and slipped it back into his sleeve. He turned toward the boulder, took two steps, then paused and glanced over his shoulder.

"One more thing," he said. "You should mend your robes before we leave. Otherwise, the moment the wind blows, everyone on the road will see everything."

Slytherin’s face darkened once again.

Lynn wisely turned away before the founder could reconsider his decision. With a casual wave of his wand, he signalled the duplicate waiting behind the boulder.

The other Lynn emerged carrying Agnis in his arms. After placing her safely on the ground beside the original, the duplicate dissolved into a thin stream of smoke and vanished into the night.

Before Agnis could fully understand what had happened, Lynn gestured toward Slytherin.

"Agnis, this is one of the founders of the magical school we’re going to. He will also be one of your future professors."

He paused before adding, "Greet him."

Agnis looked from Lynn to the wizard whose robes had been torn open during their vicious battle. Her expression suggested that she had begun questioning everything she understood about the world.

"You heard me correctly," Lynn assured her. "Go on."

"H-Hello, Professor."

Slytherin looked down at the nervous girl and nodded once.

"Good evening."

Several days later, their carriage finally reached the Scottish Highlands.

The ancient Roman road they had followed came to an end near a lonely fork. Beside it stood a weathered stone marker whose surface had been eroded by countless years of wind and rain. Only a few faded words remained legible:

North—to Scotland.

Slytherin rode ahead of the carriage on a tall black horse. Its mane burned like living fire, its eyes glowed crimson, and tiny sparks escaped its nostrils whenever it breathed. Each step left a faint scorch mark beneath its hooves.

Lynn had never encountered a magical creature quite like it. He suspected the breed had either become extinct by his time or grown so rare that it had disappeared from common records.

His gaze moved beyond Slytherin, passing over the rolling hills and exposed grey stone before settling upon the distant horizon.

There, rising among the Highlands, stood a familiar castle.

It was Hogwarts, yet not the Hogwarts Lynn remembered.

The towers were shorter, the walls thinner, and the castle as a whole considerably smaller. Many of the structures familiar to him had not yet been built, giving the young school a simpler and far less imposing appearance.

Their carriage eventually stopped in the open grounds before the castle gates.

Slytherin dismounted and handed the reins to a house-elf that appeared beside him with a soft crack. Once the unusual horse had been led away, he approached Lynn and Agnis and extended a hand toward the castle.

"This castle is the crystallisation of Rowena’s wisdom and my own," he declared.

His attention shifted toward Agnis.

"No Muggle can find this place. Hogwarts is therefore the safest magical school in the world."

After speaking, he glanced deliberately at Lynn, evidently expecting some expression of amazement.

Lynn studied the younger, smaller Hogwarts before looking at Slytherin’s expectant face. He remained silent for a moment as he considered what sort of praise might be appropriate.

"Not bad," he said eventually. "It isn’t protected against wizards, though."

Slytherin’s expression froze.

He stared at Lynn, while Lynn returned his gaze with complete sincerity. The two remained that way for several seconds before Slytherin turned around without another word and strode toward the castle.

They truly had not considered that problem.

Admittedly, there were few wizards foolish enough to provoke all four founders. Godric, Salazar, Rowena, and Helga together represented a force comparable to a mobile fortress. Anyone who attacked Hogwarts while they were present would effectively be delivering themselves to their own execution.

But what would happen in the future, once the founders were no longer there?

Slytherin silently decided to discuss the matter with Rowena and the others. Perhaps they should station guards throughout the castle.

He immediately rejected the idea. Living guards could be bribed, manipulated, or persuaded to betray them.

Then another possibility occurred to him.

Why not create enchanted stone guardians instead?

While Slytherin began considering how many animated statues the castle might require, Lynn and Agnis followed him through the gates.

They had only just reached the entrance hall when a loud explosion thundered from within.

Slytherin’s already unpleasant expression became completely black. After drawing a long breath, he pushed open the doors and strode inside.

"Andrew!"

A young wizard stood amid the wreckage at the centre of the entrance hall. It was impossible to determine the original colour of his hair because the explosion had turned it pitch-black and left it standing upright in a large, unruly mass.

Strange tools lay scattered around him, including knives, files, pliers, and tweezers, alongside several partially carved wooden rods of varying lengths and thicknesses. Nearby rested a small pile of silvery-white material as fine and soft as hair.

The moment the young wizard saw Slytherin, his face collapsed.

"P-Professor."

Slytherin stopped in front of him and looked down at the mess.

"How many times has this happened?"

His voice was unnervingly calm, as though he were asking about the weather. That composure only made Andrew tremble more violently.

"F-Five times, Professor."

"The fifth time," Slytherin repeated. "Using the same wand core?"

"The same core," Andrew whispered.

"And the same kind of wood?"

"Yes, Professor."

Slytherin laughed from sheer anger.

"That is not how wandmaking works."

He picked up one of the shattered wooden rods and examined the grain around the break before tossing it aside.

"There is nothing inherently wrong with walnut, nor is unicorn hair an unsuitable core. The problem lies in your construction. You carved the binding runes too deeply, and the channel conducting magic through the wand runs in the wrong direction. Combining two suitable materials does not guarantee a successful result. Sometimes, one plus one simply produces an explosion."

Andrew opened his mouth before wisely closing it again.

He wanted to explain that he had genuinely believed it would work this time, but one look at Slytherin’s icy expression convinced him that silence was the safer choice.

"Clean up this mess," Slytherin ordered. "When you’re finished, report to my office."

Andrew reacted as though he had just received a pardon and immediately crouched to gather the shattered pieces.

Slytherin turned back toward Lynn and Agnis.

"Come. I’ll help Miss Trelawney settle into the dormitory, then take you to meet Rowena and the others."

Lynn nodded, though his attention remained on the unfinished wands scattered across the floor.

"Is he your student?" he asked.

"In a manner of speaking," Slytherin replied as he continued down the corridor. "His name is Andrew Ollivander. He came from Italy and claims that his family has been crafting wands for generations. His technique is respectable, but he is far too reckless. Almost every experiment ends with something exploding."

Ollivander.

Lynn raised his eyebrows at the familiar name.

So the Ollivander family truly had been making wands for more than a thousand years. Their famous claim had not merely been advertising.

"I see." Lynn nodded thoughtfully. "You’re remarkably patient with him."

"It has nothing to do with patience," Slytherin replied. "He owes me money. The wood, wand cores, and tools he destroys all come from my personal stores. If he causes a few more explosions, he may have to sell himself to Hogwarts just to repay the debt."

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