prynovel Chapter 320 Choosing a Circumstance That Night
Chapter 320 Choosing a Circumstance That Night
Chapter 320 Choosing a Circumstance That Night (5K) (1/2)
These words exploded in Lu Ping's mind like a thunderclap.
He suddenly raised his head, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief.
How is that possible?
The magical world's attitude towards werewolves is either one of fear and rejection, using every means to isolate and prevent them, like the Ministry of Magic and his lifelong experiences; or it's like Dumbledore or his Marauder friends, using limited risk management based on trust and potions.
But "a spell specifically targeting werewolves"?
They even claimed that it would make werewolves "not dangerous"?
This completely overturned his decades-long understanding of his own situation.
He had studied almost every document, folk remedy, and legend about werewolves, and had never heard of a spell that was so stable and reliable that a potential employer would consider it "no problem."
If it exists, why doesn't the Ministry of Magic use it?
Why isn't St. Mungo used? Why are so many families bitten by werewolves still struggling in despair?
In an instant, countless questions and an almost absurd hope overwhelmed his reason.
Is it some kind of powerful binding spell?
A sustained calming spell? Or something—something he couldn't even imagine—that could truly affect the werewolf's shapeshifting nature?
"—A spell specifically for werewolves?" Lupin's voice was incredibly dry. He repeated it subconsciously, as if to confirm he hadn't misheard. "What is that? How come I've never heard of it before?"
Lynch simply shook his head slightly: "For the specific principles and effects, you'll need to ask him directly. I don't know much about black magic—"
He's not deeply involved in this niche area. But I can tell you he's not one to make empty boasts. The fact that he dared to offer such a position and these terms means he has the necessary confidence and control.
Lupin felt a wave of dizziness.
Is it acceptance based not on sympathy or a spirit of adventure, but on some kind of self-sufficient ability—technical control?
This feeling is strange, even somewhat cold, but compared to pure goodwill or helpless tolerance, it inexplicably gives people a more reassuring and "fair" illusion that his value is needed and his risks are managed technically, rather than being swayed by emotions or morality.
He looked down at the dark gray business card in his hand again; the simple string of numbers seemed to contain unimaginable weight and possibilities.
An unknown place, an unknown employer, an unknown technology or spell that could potentially alter his life—
Risks still exist.
He recalled Sirius's occasional mention in the St. Mungo's ward of Lynch's energy displayed in the incident—those hidden safe houses, the wizards who strictly followed orders—all of which far exceeded the capabilities of a wizard, or even a successful businessman. They vaguely outlined the silhouette of a well-structured and highly efficient secret organization.
The risks of working for such an organization are self-evident.
That meant being drawn into a deeper, more unpredictable vortex, potentially going against the official stance, and possibly touching upon the grayest, even darkest, areas of the magical world. He had had enough of secrets and dangers in his life.
but----
His thumb unconsciously rubbed the smooth edge of the business card.
But Lynch is also the "Mist Hangman".
This title carries a completely different weight in the underworld. It represents a kind of almost ruthless justice, a terrifying adherence to promises, and undeniable overwhelming power.
If this is a trap or pure exploitation, given the "Hanger's" style and reputation, it seems unnecessary to lure a down-on-his-luck werewolf like him with a long-term position and a "personalized spell."
Direct coercion or a transaction might be more in line with that legend.
Risk and security, like two ends of a scale, swung violently in his heart.
A long silence filled the office.
The light outside the window shifted slightly.
Finally, Lupin took a very slow, deep breath, as if trying to suppress all his doubts and anxieties.
He carefully tucked the business card into the inside pocket of his old suit, placing it close to his chest.
"—I need time to think." He raised his eyes to look at Lin Qi, his gaze complex, but a crack finally appeared in the previous silence, revealing a cautious, faint light. "This—is too much information."
"Of course." Lynch nodded, unsurprised by his reaction. "The business card is valid indefinitely. I wish you make the right choice for yourself, Remus."
After saying that, he didn't say anything more, turned around and opened the office door, his figure quickly disappearing into the shadows of the corridor.
The door closed gently.
Lu Ping was the only one left in the office, along with a few boxes of luggage that were not yet fully packed.
The afterglow of the setting sun bathed the room in a warm orange hue, but it couldn't dispel the turbulent waves surging within his heart.
He unconsciously raised his hand and pressed it against the spot on his chest where the business card was, as if he could feel the hard edge of the card through his clothes.
Spells specifically designed to target werewolves —
A "long-term position" that wouldn't require him to constantly feel guilty or anxious —
Ahead of what seemed like an inevitable, endless road of wandering, a completely unfamiliar fork in the road suddenly appeared, shrouded in mist, yet exuding a different aura.
He, however, must decide alone whether to embark on this unknown path.
Lynch left the office, which was filled with an atmosphere of solitude, and stepped into the dimly lit corridor of Hogwarts Castle.
His leather shoes clattered softly and rhythmically on the ancient stone slabs, echoing through the empty corridor.
He turned onto a spiral staircase leading upwards, his pace unhurried, as if he were simply taking a casual stroll.
Giving Lupin that business card wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision.
First of all, Remus Lupin, setting aside his annoying, monthly "minor problems," is an exceptionally brilliant wizard. His achievements at Hogwarts are undeniable, his magical creativity as a Marauder is remarkable, and the practical experience he gained under difficult circumstances after graduation, his profound understanding of dark magical creatures, and his resilience and integrity in the face of adversity—these are all rare and valuable assets.
His character, tested by the Peter incident and more than a decade of suffering, has proven to be exceptionally strong.
A capable, principled person who is at a low point and desperately needs an opportunity is often more valuable than someone with a prestigious background.
Those who are fickle are more valuable and know how to cherish and be loyal.
Secondly, he has the ability to handle Lupin's biggest "trouble".
His werewolf identity might be a fatal flaw to others, but it was not an insurmountable obstacle for him.
Thanks to the late Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart, the god of goods for the Stone Tower Merchant Guild, the First Order acquired many rare and precious spells, including a mysterious spell known as the "Wolf Enemy Spell".
This spell, specifically designed for werewolves, can bypass their extremely high magic resistance, suppressing and controlling them.
This unexpected find, extracted from the "treasure boy" Lockhart, was originally just tucked away in a corner of the database, waiting to be used to deal with those werewolves that lurked in the darkness and caused harm.
At this moment, it is quite fitting to describe Lupin.
Since we have the ability to control the risks, recruiting someone like Lu Ping has transformed from a charitable act fraught with uncertainty into an investment worth considering.
why not?
The staircase spirals upwards, gradually leading to the upper levels of the castle.
The stone beast jumped aside, and the spiral staircase automatically rotated and rose, leading Lynch to the oak door.
He knocked once, and Dumbledore's gentle voice came from inside: "Come in."
The principal's office was still filled with the soft humming and ticking of various silver instruments, as if a group of sleeping magical creatures were breathing.
On the wall, portraits of past principals depicted some snoring, others peeking at visitors from the edge of their frames. Phoenix Fox perched on its gilded perch, its head buried under its wings.
Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles still gleaming with wisdom, but today there seemed to be a hint of weariness that was hard to detect.
"Good evening, Professor Lynch," Dumbledore said cheerfully, waving his wand. A comfortable armchair slid to the opposite side of the desk, and at the same time, the teapot automatically poured two steaming cups of hot drinks, the refreshing aroma of lemon slices wafting through the air.
"Try this, Honeydukes just released a winter special for Sirius, called the Dementor's Cure. I think you'll like it."
Lin Qi did not refuse. He sat down, picked up the cup, and took a sip. It was slightly bitter at first, but then the sweet taste was surprisingly good.
"The taste is indeed unique," Lynch commented, setting down his cup. "Bitter at first, then sweet—that's quite fitting. Hopefully, this drink will remind people how precious freedom and innocence are, even though they often come too late and are accompanied by suffering." He looked up at Dumbledore. "Has Sirius Black himself tasted this? I bet Honeyduke would be eager to send him a whole jug."
"Oh, I don't think he's in the mood for that yet." Dumbledore blinked behind his glasses, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "These past few days, the foyer of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place has been inundated with letters, gifts, and interview requests, if he still wanted to go back there. He wrote to me that he turned down seven calls from the Daily Prophet this week alone."
Reporters, three groups of editors from *Wizarding Weekly*, and no fewer than twenty strangers claiming to be his distant cousins who had come to offer their condolences.
Just then, on the office wall, in a portrait framed in ornate silver, the black-haired, haughty wizard Phineas Nigellus Black opened his eyes from his slumber and let out a clear, disdainful snort.
"Hmph! Distant cousins?" He drawled, his voice jarring in the quiet office. "Nonsense! The noblest Black family possesses the clearest, most incorruptible family tree in the magical world! Every name was solemnly embroidered on the family tapestries as early as the seventeenth century, witnessed by elven magic! Those who suddenly crawl out of who-knows-where, trying to cling to a hero who has just been exonerated and might even have a few Galleons to claim, are all opportunists and fraudsters! Their bloodline is probably more questionable than that of the Mudbloods!"
"You don't need to use that word. I believe Sirius can tell his own blood relatives." Dumbledore cast a gentle but slightly admonish glance at the portrait, but Phineas merely raised his chin arrogantly, seemingly quite pleased with his outspokenness, then closed his eyes again, pretending to continue dozing, though his ears seemed to be slightly perked up.
Lin Qi's lips twitched almost imperceptibly as he looked away from the portrait.
"The public's enthusiasm is indeed excessive right now," he paused, "but it's understandable."
"From a fugitive despised by the entire wizarding world to a tragic hero wrongly accused for twelve years overnight—this extreme reversal is most likely to stimulate the public's nerves. What they need is not just a story of justice being served, but a legendary symbol that can project sympathy, guilt, and curiosity. Sirius's silence, his Animagus form, his experiences in Azkaban, and even his illustrious yet fallen family background have now become topics of great interest."
"Indeed." Dumbledore nodded slightly, his fingers lightly tapping the rim of his teacup. "People are keen to create heroes, and they are also keen to destroy them. Right now, they are busy shaping Sirius into a symbol of unwavering resilience. This is probably another burden for him. What he needs more is quiet and the company of true friends, not being put under the spotlight to display his wounds."
"Regarding this," Lynch continued, his tone calm as always, "the Stone Tower Chamber of Commerce's press office reached an agreement with Mr. Blake this morning. He will give an exclusive interview, to be published exclusively on our newsletter."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly; the news was clearly somewhat unexpected, but soon, an expression of understanding appeared in his eyes.
"An exclusive interview? Sirius agreed?" Dumbledore's tone held a hint of inquiry. "This doesn't seem like something he would willingly agree to."
"He agreed," Lynch confirmed. "On the condition that he has complete control over the content and tone of the interview, and that he chooses the location—not Grimmauld Place. I think he's had enough of the recent commotion there. I think it's a reasonable arrangement. Rather than letting all sorts of speculation and secondhand information flood the pages, it's better to provide an authoritative and controlled outlet. At least through our channels, we can ensure the integrity and accuracy of the information, avoiding being taken out of context or over-exaggerated. This might be helpful in quelling unnecessary speculation, satisfying the public's reasonable curiosity, and—helping him re-establish normal connections with the wizarding world."
Dumbledore pondered for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"A pragmatic approach. It's better for him to tell the story himself than for others to speculate wildly. Besides, the Stone Tower Chamber of Commerce's bulletin board has recently become known for its relatively objective stance, which might allow his story to be treated more seriously. However, I suspect this isn't just for the public good or to help Sirius, is it?" His self-shine sharpened, but there was no accusation in it.
"Public opinion is an important battleground, Principal Dumbledore," Lynch responded frankly. "The true story needs to be told correctly, especially when all sides are trying to shape the narrative. It's always better to ensure that the first complete version of the story comes from sources we trust than to let it be distorted by those with ulterior motives. This is beneficial to everyone, including Mr. Black himself, who can regain some control over his own narrative."
Dumbledore's deep blue eyes gazed at Lynch, as if observing a more universal aspect of humanity through him. "You're right, Professor Lynch. But public opinion is always unpredictable. What we can do is stay true to ourselves and make sure that when the wind stops, those we care about are standing on solid ground, not blown off a cliff. Harry—his reaction to all this worries me a little. Suddenly, his godfather, whom he's hated for years, has become his closest family member, and the entire wizarding world is cheering for him. It will take time to process this."
"That kid is more resilient than most people imagine," Lynch said. "And he has friends who truly care about him. Sometimes, the understanding of peers is more important than the protection of adults."
"Yes," Dumbledore agreed softly, "he'll handle it."
"Speaking of friends," Lynch put down his teacup, "I took a detour on my way up to see Remus; he was packing his things."
Dumbledore sighed softly, his gaze drifting to the darkening sky outside the window.
"Yes—I feel very sorry about Remus. I had intended to at least let him stay until the end of the semester, until the gossip outside calmed down, and then make a more appropriate arrangement for him. But he—insisted on leaving."
"He doesn't want to cause any more trouble for you and the school," Lynch said. "He has his own path to follow."
"Yes," Dumbledore said with a touch of melancholy, "we all have our own paths to walk."
He paused for a moment, put his fingers together, and his expression became more serious.
"However, the main reason I invited you here tonight is to discuss some details of what happened at Hogsmeade that night—how Peter escaped, and what our next steps are."
"I would like to hear the details."
"At that time, I had Peter cornered in the corner of the warehouse of Zoco's Joke Shop, and he had nowhere to escape." Dumbledore's eyes sharpened, as if he could see that scene again. "Just then, I spotted two people hiding behind a pile of old boxes in the corner—Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. I had to be distracted to check on their safety, and in that instant, a very evil spell shot towards the two children from a completely unexpected angle."
His tone was calm, but Lin Qi could sense the gravity in it.
"I naturally chose to protect the students immediately and intercept the spell," Dumbledore continued. "However, before my defenses could fully deploy, all the unstable junk merchandise piled up in the warehouse was simultaneously detonated. That was something Peter couldn't have done in a hurry; the timing of the explosions was terrifyingly precise. The massive blast instantly engulfed everything. By the time I regained my footing and cleared the smoke, Peter had vanished without a trace. The Ministry of Magic later turned the place upside down, but couldn't find any trace of his departure."