touchnovel Chapter 324 The End of the School Year
Chapter 324 The End of the School Year
Chapter 324 The End of the School Year (5.3K) (1/2)
"Good question." Lynch nodded. "The answer is—I need a practitioner, a standard sample."
"Your magic is stable and solid, your temperament is calm, and your resilience under pressure is evident. Seventh-year students may have deeper magic, but they may also have formed fixed magical habits, making them less malleable than fifth-year students. As for fame or school prejudice, those are irrelevant in my research. What I value are essential qualities."
This explanation made Cedric feel grounded.
He thought for a moment, then asked, "This spell—you say it works on the soul. Is it safe? I mean, during the learning process, are there any risks?" This was his most natural concern as an invitee.
Lynch's expression turned serious: "This is the core issue. I can assure you that all theoretical deductions and limited simulations to date indicate that this spell structure is purely defensive and reinforcing; it doesn't involve any extraction, distortion, or addition to the soul's essence. It's more like building an extra layer of armor around the soul. The key to the learning process lies in precise magical control and unwavering protective will, which is why I chose you—I believe you can achieve precision and determination, thereby minimizing any theoretical risk of discomfort. Throughout the process, I will provide guidance and monitoring; if you sense anything unusual, we can stop immediately. Safety is my primary consideration."
Cedric sensed the sincerity in Lynch's words from his calm tone and organized explanation.
He remained silent for a moment, quickly weighing his options.
Opportunity comes with responsibility and may involve unknowns, but Professor Lynch's explanation dispelled his main concerns.
Moreover, the very idea of a magic purely for protection held a strong attraction for him.
He remembered that it was Professor Lynch, who was standing in front of him, who told him in the middle of the semester that he was particularly suited to learning and deepening those kinds of magic that required positive emotions and leaned towards protection and blessing.
"I understand, Professor." Cedric took a deep breath, made his decision, and his eyes hardened. "If my involvement can truly help perfect such a valuable spell, and if you think I'm suitable—I'm willing to try."
I am honored to participate in your research.
Seeing Cedric nod in agreement solemnly, a glimmer of satisfaction flashed in Lynch's eyes.
He then added the most crucial restriction: "Thank you for your trust and courage, Cedric. But one thing must be made clear beforehand, and it is of paramount importance: until this spell is fully developed, has received the necessary approvals, and has found a suitable channel for its dissemination, it must remain in absolute secrecy. This is for the sake of the purity of the research, and also to protect you from unnecessary attention or misunderstanding."
His tone carried undeniable weight: "Therefore, before we officially go public, our conversation today, and everything you will learn next, must be kept strictly confidential. You cannot tell any classmates, friends, other professors, or even your family. This is a serious commitment. Are you willing to accept this condition?"
Cedric felt the weight of this promise; he could almost imagine his father's reaction if he knew he was involved in research related to soul magic.
Moreover, Professor Lynch's reasoning is sound; confidentiality is a protection for both parties.
So after thinking it over carefully for a few seconds, he met Lynch's gaze and solemnly said, "Yes, Professor, I accept. I swear on my honor and my wand that I will not disclose any information about this research project to anyone without your permission."
"Very good." Lynch's face broke into a more relaxed smile, tinged with approval. "Well then, welcome to the first collaborator on this project. Remember, this isn't a formal course; it's more like a collaborative exploration. Your feelings are paramount."
He stood up, gesturing for Cedric to get up as well, and the two walked to the more spacious central area of the office.
"I'll call this spell 'Soul Armor' for now," Lin Qi began his formal explanation, from the principles and hand gestures to the guidance of intention—
About half an hour later, when Cedric's forehead was slightly sweaty but his eyes remained bright and focused, Lynch signaled that he could take a break.
"Very good initial impressions, Cedric," Lynch said, addressing him by his given name in acknowledgment. "Your understanding of the Guardian Spirit is spot on. Today is just the beginning; we need many more practices like this."
Cedric wiped his sweat, exhausted but with excitement and a sense of accomplishment in his eyes: "Thank you, Professor. This feeling—it's strange, but it really feels like a sense of security, though still very faint."
"That's the nascent form of the protection," Lynch smiled. "Remember, proceed step by step. The final form of this spell should be able to form a solid protective barrier on the surface of your soul; that's when it will be the true... soul armor."
"Soul Armor"
Cedric silently recited the strong and protective name and nodded solemnly.
He knew that from this day forward, he had stepped into a hidden but important field, and his shoulders bore a heavy burden of trust and responsibility.
As June arrived, Hogwarts Castle was enveloped in a familiar atmosphere, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation.
The ghost of final exams lingered in the corridors, the library was packed, parchment and ink consumption skyrocketed, and the common room was still lit up late at night, filled with whispers of review spells and the rustling of turning pages.
However, unlike the pure exam pressure of previous years, the end of this school year is also mixed with a more complex emotion.
The Daily Prophet's follow-up reports on Sirius Black's exoneration gradually faded from the headlines to the back pages, but the resulting private discussions about the Ministry of Magic's credibility, the review of past cases, and even the escaped henchmen of Mystic continued to linger among some upperclassmen and interested professors.
There seemed to be an extra, almost imperceptible, air of scrutiny in the castle—a scrutiny of authority, of history, and of the “truths” that had once been accepted.
Against this backdrop, the final days of the semester exhibit a peculiar rhythm: the days are filled with intense exams, and OWLs...
The NEWTs level exams were particularly somber for fifth and seventh graders: the evenings were for relaxation and farewell parties, celebrating the end of the exams and the safe passage of another school year—although the definition of "safe" was different for those in the know than in previous years.
Cedric Diggory walked out of the history of magic exam room and let out a soft sigh. Professor Binns' hypnotic tone hadn't stopped him from answering all the questions this year, which felt pretty good. The sunlight was lovely, warm and comforting, dispelling the chill that had lingered in the underground classroom for so long.
He didn't immediately return to the Hufflepuff common room, but instead glanced instinctively at the second floor of the castle.
Over the past few weeks, he has gone to that office several more times, following instructions that Professor Lynch sends out intermittently, always in carefully worded and brief notes.
Each time, the in-depth practice of the "Soul Armor" incantation was carried out under extremely confidential conditions.
Progress is gradual.
From the initial vague sense of "introverted solidity" to the later ability to vaguely "feel" an extremely thin, invisible barrier, like a transparent crystal film, that fits a certain inner contour.
Professor Lynch emphasized that the complete hand gestures for the incantation and the ancient runic incantation with its peculiar rhythm and difficult syllables were merely "sound keys" to aid in guidance, not the core of the incantation's power, which he had already begun to grasp.
Casting this spell requires a high degree of mental concentration and considerable magical power. Afterward, one will feel fatigue similar to that after a long period of strenuous exercise, but will also experience a peculiar clarity and tranquility in the mind.
Professor Lynch was always a calm and insightful observer and mentor.
He rarely offered praise; instead, he would precisely point out any stagnation in the flow of magic or slight deviations in the focus of intention, and then offer suggestions for adjustment.
He also meticulously recorded Cedric's subjective feelings after each practice session: the perceived "thickness" of the barrier, the duration of its effect, and so on.
The "filtering" effect on external noise or sudden sounds, and even details such as whether emotions are more stable for a period of time after the spell is cast.
Cedric strictly adhered to his promise of confidentiality.
Even when his closest friends asked about his occasional lapses in concentration or apparent extra fatigue, he would simply brush it off with excuses like "studying OWLs is too mentally taxing" or "practicing some flying skills on my own." This secret made him feel as if a part of him had quietly detached himself from ordinary campus life and entered a deeper, more secluded existence. Sometimes he would think of the "more terrible things" that Professor Lynch had mentioned the spell might ward off, and a sense of dread would creep into his heart, but more than anything, he felt a strong sense of responsibility—since he had been chosen to learn it, he had to do his best to master it.
"Hey, Cedric! How did the exam go?" A friend from the same college caught up from behind, patted him on the shoulder, and interrupted his thoughts.
Cedric immediately put on his usual gentle smile: "It's alright, everything that needed to be written has been written. I hope Professor Binns will be lenient."
He blended into the crowd heading towards the hall, the secret about the invisible armor carefully kept in his heart, like the incantation he was learning, restrained and unrevealed.
For Harry, the end of the school year was a mix of unprecedented relief and warm feelings of longing.
Exams may be annoying, but compared to the Dementors' invasion, Sirius's escape and redemption, and the immense pressure of the Quidditch final, they are nothing.
Most importantly, he knew that he had a real, reliable family member in this world again.
Sirius Black wrote to Harry almost every week, sometimes via Hogwarts' regular owl mail route, and sometimes via some faster and more secretive means. Harry suspected it was related to Uncle Lynch.
The letters were varied: some inquired about his studies and life, others complained about the eerie atmosphere of Grimmauld Place and the annoyance of Kreacher, some shared interesting news from the wizarding world or his mischievous experiences with Harry's father when he was young, and some asked about his summer plans—provided, of course, that Harry was willing to spend part of his vacation in Grimmauld Place.
"This place is like a museum, and not a very pleasant one at that," Sirius wrote in a letter, "but we can work together to make it a little more presentable, at least clear out a few habitable rooms. If you're feeling too bored, we can go somewhere else; I have some other places under my name—or ask Remus, he always rents but knows some good places."
The words are filled with an awkward yet sincere desire to make amends and rebuild.
Harry felt a sense of fulfillment and joy in each of his replies, even when he was just describing mundane daily life.
The Godfather's presence was like a solid light, illuminating his previously somewhat empty vision of the future.
He even started seriously considering his summer vacation plans.
Although the Dursleys had to return, Uncle Lynch solemnly stated that he had to stay there for the entire summer vacation, but perhaps they could shorten their stay.
The idea of spending another magical summer vacation with Sirius Black filled him with anticipation for the upcoming holiday, making even No. 4 Privet Drive seem less unbearable.
On the evening after the last exam, the Great Hall of Hogwarts began to be decorated as the venue for the year-end banquet to be held the next day before students left school.
But starting in the evening, small-scale celebrations began within each college.
Cheers erupted in the Gryffindor Tower. The Quidditch Cup was placed in the most prominent position in the common room. The Weasley twins had somehow managed to get their hands on some popping candy and butterbeer, creating a lively atmosphere.
The Hufflepuff common room was even more cozy, with everyone sharing extra desserts "kindly provided" from the kitchen, applauding Cedric and the team's outstanding performance throughout the season—even though they ultimately finished as runners-up.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione squeezed together on a sofa near the fireplace, sharing a large pitcher of butterbeer and several plates of snacks.
Hermione finally relaxed and stopped muttering the exam answers, while Ron beamed, clearly not just because the exam was over.
"Listen, guys," Ron said in a low voice, but couldn't hide his excitement, "do you know what's going to be big this summer?"
"Except for not having to do homework?" Harry asked with a smile.
"That's way better!" Ron's eyes lit up. "The Quidditch World Cup! The final! This summer, in England! Dad says the Department of Sports at the Ministry of Magic is desperately short-staffed, being pulled from all over, even the Department for the Prohibition of Muggle Items might be pulled in to help maintain order—he's trying to figure out if he can get tickets!"
"The Quidditch World Cup?" Hermione asked, intrigued. "That must be an unprecedented spectacle."
"It's more than unprecedented!" Ron waved his arms. "The best team in the world! The best players! Ireland is on fire this year, and Bulgaria's Seeker is one of the top three players in the world—Merlin, I wish I could go see them!" He looked eagerly at Harry and Hermione. "What do you think? If you could get tickets, you would definitely go, right?"
"Harry, you could ask Sirius, he probably has connections too! Maybe we could team up?"
Harry's heart skipped a beat.
Go to the Quidditch World Cup with Sirius Black, Ron's family, and Hermione?
It sounded like a dream. He could almost picture the spectacle: thousands of wizards gathered together, cheering for his favorite sport.
"That's great, Ron!" Harry said immediately. "I'll definitely ask Sirius. He'd love to, and he might have been planning to go already."
The thought of sharing such a grand event with his godfather made Harry even more excited for summer vacation: "I can even ask Uncle Lynch if he's interested!"
Hermione was more pragmatic: "If the Ministry of Magic is making all the preparations, then security will definitely be very tight. However, since Mr. Weasley works in the Ministry, there might actually be an opportunity. This would be a good chance to understand how the international magical community works."
"See! Even Hermione thinks it's a great idea!" Ron said smugly, as if he already had the ticket in hand.
"Just imagine, we're going to the World Cup together! That's a million times more interesting than listening to the news at that Muggle Dursley's house, Harry."
Harry smiled and nodded, feeling a warm glow inside.
Yes, watching the Quidditch World Cup with his friends, his godfather, and his uncle would definitely be more fun than going to Hogsmeade.
Ron took a big gulp of butterbeer, sighed contentedly, and then, as if remembering something, lowered his voice: "Seriously, Harry, don't you think—so many things have happened this year, it seems like a lot of things are different now?"
The Ministry of Magic, and those people—even my dad says the atmosphere there's weird. But,” he grinned, regaining his usual optimism, “at least your godfather is free now. Maybe when we're watching the World Cup, he can tell us about the times he watched the games with our dad!”
Harry nodded, looking out the window at the deepening night sky and the newly brightening stars.
In the magic research office on the second floor of the castle, Lynch stood by the window, gazing at the small groups strolling in the courtyard below.
Students chatting and enjoying the relaxing moments after the exam.
He held in his hand an encrypted report that had just been delivered by a gray owl with sharp claws, concerning the recent unusual financial flows and personnel exchanges of certain pure-blood families.
The report put forward some speculations.
But at this moment, his thoughts were mostly on campus.
Sirius Black has established himself, and although he is still not used to the spotlight, he is no longer a fugitive, and his relationship with Harry is steadily building.
This is a crucial move, providing a steadfast ally against a future darkness.
More importantly, it gave Reggie the opportunity to reconcile with his past.
Cedric Diggory's training progress is in line with expectations, and even slightly exceeds them.
The boy's temperament and talent were even more suited to the "Soul Armor" than he had anticipated.
The seeds have been sown and are beginning to germinate steadily.
What's needed is continued attention and proper guidance to ensure that this seedling can survive future storms and even become a reliable source of shade.
Nighttime, year-end banquet.
The hall was filled with laughter and cheerful conversation, and the flags of their respective colleges floated above the four long tables.
As usual, Dumbledore delivered a brief but wise speech, summarizing the extraordinary year, praising the students' efforts, and especially mentioning the excitement of the Quidditch matches and the unity and judgment shown by the students in the face of "external events"—a remark that elicited some knowing whispers and exchanges of glances.
The outcome of the House Cup was no surprise; Gryffindor won the most gems in the hourglass thanks to their Quidditch championship and outstanding end-of-term performance.
The red flags fluttered the highest, and the Gryffindor long table erupted in the loudest cheers.
Lin Qi sat at the long table of teachers, picked up a glass of red wine and brought it to his lips, his eyes filled with an inscrutable expression.
He looked at the sea of red, boiling joy before him, thinking that next year on this day, they probably wouldn't be able to laugh as carefree as they do today.
As night falls, the castle lights gradually go out, leaving only the ever-burning torches in the corridors and the starlight and moonlight outside the windows.
Another school year has come to a close in the cool breeze of a summer night in the Scottish Highlands.
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