The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 50 The Roaring Letter in the Auditorium

Watching Snape drag Malfoy away, Lynch leisurely walked to the teachers' table and sat down.

The Great Hall returned to its usual hustle and bustle, but this time many young wizards began pointing at the Slytherin table and letting out suppressed laughter.

The proud little snakes could not bear such ridicule, but they could not retaliate due to their current situation. They could only secretly look at Lin Qi with resentful eyes, and one by one they retreated from the hall in a sorry state.

Lin Qi, completely unconcerned about the little incident that occurred in the auditorium, calmly finished his breakfast under the gaze of countless eyes that were filled with awe, curiosity, or admiration before getting up and leaving.

As soon as Professor Lynch stepped out of the Great Hall, Ron eagerly leaned close to Harry's ear, his voice barely audible, but brimming with smug gloating: "You know what... Harry..."

Fred told me that the reason our "noble" young Master Malfoy so hates Professor Lynch isn't because Professor Lynch attacked pure-blood superiority, but because he was so scared he peed his pants while flying through the clouds last Friday! Hahahaha…”

Before he could finish speaking, Ron burst into laughter and collapsed onto the table.

Harry immediately pictured Malfoy's face, contorted with excitement and flushed red in the Great Hall, and his disheveled, ashen-faced appearance as Snape dragged him away. The rumor instantly became an "ironclad fact" in his mind.

Harry only realized what Ron meant when he was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. He then asked Ron what Ron meant by "attacking pure-blood superiority."

"That's nonsense that only a guy like Malfoy would believe."

Ron rolled his eyes, poked at the sausage on his plate with his fork, and quickly and disdainfully explained to him the outdated concept of pure-blood families that "bloodline determines magical ability."

Harry was dumbfounded: "How could anyone believe such nonsense?" The two of them made a few comments about the stubbornness of pure-blood families, but were soon drawn to other topics.

However, the pure-blood family's anger clearly wouldn't stop just because Malfoy's embarrassing performance in the Great Hall.

The whispers and venomous glances within Slytherin House were temporarily silenced by Snape's iron-fisted suppression, but outside the ancient stone walls of Hogwarts, the deeply entrenched pure-blood families would not give up so easily.

A shrewd little snake had already relayed Lynch's shocking remarks back home via an owl, word for word.

So the next morning, when the Hogwarts students and teachers gathered in the Great Hall for breakfast as usual, a strange scene unfolded.

A dense swarm of owls—barn owls, greywood owls, snowy owls… owls of different species and sizes converged into a surging torrent of feathers, pouring into the auditorium from all directions through the high windows.

Their goal was strikingly similar—the young professor in the faculty seat, dressed in a sharp suit, slowly slicing a fried egg.

The owls loosened their talons, and letters poured down like a blizzard. Even without exceptional eyesight, one could easily spot these envelopes, most of them a striking scarlet, which identified their species—

Roaring Letter!

All eyes were on the scarlet letters.

At the Slytherin long table, the snakes, their gloom from yesterday gone, wore knowing smiles that mixed with smugness and cruel anticipation. Their eyes were fixed intently on Lynch, who was having his meal at the teachers' table.

However, when the twisted seals of the roaring letters began to writhe violently, about to erupt into a deafening roar...

Lin Qi didn't even look up; he simply raised his right hand casually and lightly tapped the air with his slender index finger.

There was no radiance of incantation, no torrent of magic, not even a trace of extra energy ripples.

Without a sound, the impending "avalanche" suddenly froze.

Time seemed to have been paused; all the letters that flew toward him, whether red or white, froze in mid-air.

Then, as if erased from the canvas by an eraser, it lost its physical form in the same instant.

The owls that delivered the letters seemed to have spotted some terrifying creature and flew out of the auditorium even faster than when they arrived.

Only a few owl feathers, swept away by the air currents, swirled and slowly drifted down to the floor of the auditorium, silently witnessing what had just happened.

The entire auditorium fell silent for a moment, with only the soft sound of Lynch's knife and fork clinking against his plate.

After putting the last piece of fried egg into his mouth, Lynch put down his knife and fork, picked up a napkin, and elegantly wiped the corner of his mouth, as if he had just brushed away a speck of dust.

He looked at the gazes fixed on him in the auditorium, and his calm voice reached everyone's ears: "I believe that truth can only become clearer and more lucid through the clash and debate of reason."

If anyone is willing to engage in a face-to-face, calm and rational exchange and debate with me regarding the theories I have proposed, I welcome them wholeheartedly.

If it's just like today, sending a bunch of roaring letters in a secretive manner, attempting to vent worthless and vulgar insults in public, or simply to satisfy some base desire for personal attacks...

Then...please allow me to refuse.

No one answered, and the auditorium remained silent.

A gentle voice with a distinctive hum broke the silence: "I think... some of those letters might have been addressed to me."

Dumbledore looked at Lynch with a faint smile: "I think I need those letters."

Lynch nodded slightly: "Letters that do not belong to me will be delivered to their respective owners by Totz later."

Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction and then resumed his meal.

As Dumbledore made his move, the Great Hall gradually returned to its usual hustle and bustle.

However, the occasional inquiring glances the students cast at Lin Qi during breaks in their conversations revealed that Lin Qi had once again left a deep impression on them.

"Professor Lynch is truly a powerful wizard..." Ron remarked again on his way to class after breakfast.

At this moment, they were carrying books under their arms, a few people huddled together, walking at a leisurely pace.

By the second week after enrolling, they had gotten used to the pace of Hogwarts classes and no longer had to run to catch their lessons.

"Everyone knows that, and besides, you've said it so many times already." Harry pouted helplessly, responding to Ron's rambling.

"Do you think we can one day be as powerful as Professor Lynch?" Ron ignored Harry's answer and continued talking to himself, "No! We don't need to be that powerful. I'd be satisfied with just half of that."

"You can find the answer in your magic studies class on Friday afternoon. Professor Lynch should formally teach us how to cultivate those two traits then," Seamus interjected.

"Oh, Merlin! I can't wait for last Friday's class!" Ron's face was full of anticipation.

The young wizards around them also showed expectant expressions.

......

However, during Friday afternoon's magic studies class...

Lynch topped the list of "Hogwarts' Most Unpopular Professors" in just one class period.