The "spectacular" demonstration of the Dueling Club came to a screeching halt in a way no one had expected.
Poor Professor Lockhart, after experiencing a numb tongue, bird pecks, stone strikes, a swollen nose, long hair, and being roasted by fire, hadn't even had time to catch his breath before the rumbling in his stomach thundered once more!
Gurgle—Pfft!
Once again, under everyone's watchful eyes, Lockhart, who had just barely managed to stand up, instantly turned pale. He clamped his legs tightly together, but he simply couldn't resist the surging "torrent."
Accompanied by a dull thud and the spread of an indescribable smell, he once again, in front of most of the school's students, transformed into a "Jet Warrior."
Amidst the dead silence and the subsequent outbursts of exclamations, Lockhart's eyes rolled back, and he fainted directly from shame and indignation.
He was quickly sent to the School Infirmary. After a careful examination, Madam Pomfrey gave an authoritative diagnosis—"The previous curse was not completely removed. After receiving intense stimulation and a magical shock, it unfortunately relapsed!"
Thus, Professor Lockhart had been back at Hogwarts Castle for less than a week before he was once again urgently sent to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for "thorough" isolation treatment.
His ambitiously founded Dueling Club was handed over to the Dean of Ravenclaw—Professor Flitwick—to manage on his behalf.
Professor Flitwick expressed that he was very happy to do so.
On one hand, he himself was a former Dueling Club champion, so instructing students in dueling was perfectly within his professional expertise.
On the other hand, all the club's expenses and the extra salary for the instructing Professor were covered by the "generous" Professor Lockhart. He really couldn't find any reason to refuse such a good deal where he could use his talents without the house having to pay a cent.
On the way back to the Hufflepuff Common Room, Lynn clearly felt that he had become the focus of attention.
Many students were pointing at him, and whispers were constant.
"Look, is that him? The Hufflepuff who just defeated Professor Lockhart in the Great Hall?" a witch wearing a hairpin whispered to her friend, her eyes filled with curiosity and amazement.
"Yes, that's him, Lynn! The one with the Order of Merlin, Third Class! He didn't even chant just now! He's really amazing!" her friend excitedly agreed, her face full of admiration.
However, not everyone held an appreciative attitude.
Another witch nearby, clutching Lockhart's works, immediately retorted in a defensive tone, "What's so amazing about that! It's clearly because Professor Lockhart's previous curse hadn't fully healed yet and his body was weak! He was just taking advantage of someone's weakness! I'm telling you, in Professor Lockhart's prime, just one look could..."
It seems that brainless fans exist in every world.
Edgar nudged Lynn with his elbow and teased, "Hey, Lynn, tell the truth, were you... a bit too ruthless on stage just now? Making his nose big, making him grow hair, and finally setting him on fire. Professor Lockhart was almost broken by you."
Lynn glanced at him and asked back, "Would you rather take Professor Snape's Defense Against the Dark Arts tutoring sessions, or would you rather listen to Lockhart read his 'adventure' stories on stage and then do a few test papers about his ideals and favorite colors?"
Edgar imagined those two scenarios.
"Can... can I choose neither?"
"In your dreams."
Just then, a slight "click" sound suddenly came from nearby!
Lynn instinctively looked back and saw a short first-year student with round glasses and messy brown hair. He was holding an old camera, the lens pointed at Lynn, with a nervous expression on his face.
Lynn thought: Colin Creevey? Isn't he a Gryffindor freshman this year?
I clearly saw him cornering Harry at the entrance to the lavatory just now; how did he run over here to take pictures of me so quickly?
At that moment, Harry Potter, who was still shaken in a certain lavatory, sneezed and wailed inwardly: Guys, does anyone understand my pain! I ran into a perverted freshman! Have any of you ever seen a wizard who waits at the bathroom door to take pictures of people!
Seeing that Lynn had noticed him, Colin immediately jogged over and said somewhat stutteringly, "Th-that... H-hello!
I'm a Gryffindor freshman, Co-Colin Creevey! Your duel just now was amazing! P-please... c-can I have your autograph?"
As he spoke, he hurriedly took out a freshly developed photo from the camera and respectfully handed it to Lynn.
Lynn took the photo and looked at it; he had to admit that Colin's snapshot skills were indeed good.
If one ignored Edgar next to him, whose features were distorted into an exaggerated retching face.
Lynn pointed at Edgar's extremely image-ruining expression in the photo, raised an eyebrow, and looked at the person in question.
Edgar leaned over to look and acted as if he were repulsed by the ugliness: "Ugh—who is this? I don't know him! It's definitely not me!"
Lynn signed his name in the blank space of the photo and then handed it back to the little fan who was looking at him expectantly.
"Thank you! Thank you!" Colin treated it like a treasure, clutching the signed photo tightly, bowing repeatedly to Lynn, and then ran away contentedly.
In the afternoon, Lynn lay lazily in a soft armchair, his mind filled with the shimmering Black Lake, his heart feeling as if a kitten were scratching at it.
He nudged Edgar, who was buried in his homework, with his elbow. "Tsk~ since we're free anyway, do you want to go fishing?"
Edgar didn't even look up, his quill scratching on the parchment, as he retorted mercilessly:
"Me? I won't go to witness it. Lynn, speak with your conscience—tell me, which time have you ever actually caught a fish by the Black Lake?"
"I of course..." Lynn instinctively wanted to defend his dignity as a fisherman.
However, just as he was about to retort, Edgar slowly added: "—That carp from first year doesn't count."
Lynn: "..."
Lynn was choked up, his mouth opening, only to find that all his retorts were stuck in his throat. Edgar had accurately predicted and blocked his only presentable "achievement."
Dammit! Lynn cursed in his heart.
He really didn't believe in this bad luck!
Lynn walked out of the common room with his head held high, heading for the Black Lake once again.
With another practiced casting motion, the hook and bait drew an arc and sank into the dark green waters of the Black Lake.
"Today! Just today! If I don't catch a decent fish, I, Lynn, will change my surname to Burns!" Lynn stared intently at the float, still muttering relentlessly.
Time seemed to slow down at this moment. Less than thirty seconds after he finished speaking—
Swish—!
Without any warning, the float suddenly jerked down and was immediately dragged underwater by a terrifyingly powerful force!
Buzz, buzz, buzz—
The fishing rod in his hand instantly bent into a heart-stopping arc and was dragged out at an alarming speed.
"Holy crap! A catch so soon?! And it's a big one!" Lynn was both surprised and delighted.
He reacted extremely quickly, gripping the fishing rod with one hand and swiftly pulling out his wand with the other to point it at himself.
A faint light merged into his arm. The strength boost from the Great Strength Curse made him feel like his arms were full of explosive power.
Lynn steadied his stance and began the first round of a tug-of-war with the "big fish."
The bend of the fishing rod became even more terrifying.
"Whoa! The strength is quite something! You want to test me, do you?" A ferocious smile appeared on Lynn's face. "Fine! I'll bloody well—Thousand Refinements!"
You ask why activate Thousand Refinements with its side effects just for fishing?
Only Eat the Sugar Coating, ever heard of it?
The all-around boost made Lynn feel his strength surge instantly; he felt like he could flip a Troll with his bare hands.
The muscles in Lynn's arms tightened as he began to exert his full strength, attempting to pull the massive object from beneath the water.
Buzz, buzz, buzz—!!!
Crack! Crack, crack—!
"N-not good!" Lynn's expression changed drastically. "My fishing rod!"
Just as this thought flashed through Lynn's mind, before he could take any remedial measures—
Snap————————!!!
Lynn felt the weight in his hands vanish. His precious fishing rod, which had accompanied him for a whole year, snapped just above where he was holding it!
Lynn: ...
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