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The perspective returns to Lynn.
After slipping away with the simple and crude excuse of a "bathroom break," Lynn certainly didn't go looking for a restroom. He turned and ducked into a relatively secluded alley nearby.
The alley was empty, with only a few cockroaches skittering around the edges of the trash cans.
Lynn's gaze swept over every corner—behind stacked crates, through the cracks of half-open, broken doors, and even into the shadows beneath the eaves.
However, after several minutes of careful searching, he found nothing except some messy footprints in the dust and a small tuft of coarse-looking hair in one corner.
Lynn carefully pinched the tuft of hair and examined it against the light. It was jet black, stiff in texture, and slightly stained. He naturally assumed it had been shed by that black dog when it fled in a hurry.
Lynn drew his wand and pointed it at the tuft in his palm. The tip glowed faintly, and the hair, as if infused with life, floated upward. It trembled slightly in midair for a few seconds before suddenly shooting off with a whoosh, as though pulled by an invisible thread.
Lynn didn't hesitate and hurried after it.
He followed this "guide" through a maze of winding alleys and streets in Hogsmeade.
The hair zigzagged unpredictably—left, then right—leading him deeper into the village. Lynn remained cautious, assuming it was guiding him toward the target's hiding place.
Finally, after passing behind Honeydukes, the tuft of hair came to a stop in front of a shop.
Lynn looked up.
The sign, written in elegant script, read: Gladrags Wizardwear.
Before he could process why a black dog would come here, the tuft of hair had already slipped through the shop door.
Lynn paused for a moment, then followed.
A soft bell chimed.
Inside, the lighting was warm, and the air carried a faint scent of fresh incense. The walls were lined with dazzling robes, and several well-dressed witches and wizards stood before mirrors, murmuring and gesturing.
Lynn immediately spotted the tuft of "dog hair" floating toward a shelf near the counter.
The shelf held grooming tools.
Under his watch, the tuft gently landed on a brush.
Lynn: "..."
He understood instantly.
That wasn't dog hair at all.
He had just been led halfway across Hogsmeade by a tuft of bristles from a tailor's brush.
"Sir?" A uniformed shop assistant approached at just the right moment, his gaze briefly noting Lynn's Hogwarts robes. His tone was polite. "Are you interested in a custom-made robe, or would you prefer to browse our ready-made selection? Gladrags offers comfortable and stylish solutions for wizards of all builds."
Lynn suddenly felt a bit awkward.
His eyes flicked over the elegant, expensive robes… then down to his slightly worn school uniform.
"Uh… yes." He cleared his throat. "I'd like to see… something suitable for daily wear. Comfortable, but better than standard school robes."
"Of course, sir. This way, please."
The assistant's smile remained steady as he led Lynn toward a section of fine fabrics. "Allow me to take your measurements and recommend a few options. For instance, this mithril-thread blended wool is lightweight, warm, and enchanted with a constant temperature charm. It's also highly durable…"
Over half an hour later.
Lynn walked out of Gladrags Wizardwear wearing a new outfit.
"You get what you pay for," he muttered, rolling his shoulders and appreciating the flexibility of the robe. "The ancestors weren't lying."
He made a mental note to return in the future.
As for tracking Black… the trail was lost for now. There was no point rushing blindly.
Lynn glanced at the sky and turned toward the Three Broomsticks to meet up with Amina and Ryan.
By the time the three returned to Hogwarts, the Halloween feast was about to begin.
They hurried into the Great Hall and took their seats.
Before long, Dumbledore and the three visiting headmasters entered together and sat at the staff table.
After a brief concluding speech, Dumbledore raised his voice cheerfully:
"Let the feast begin!"
In an instant, the tables filled with a lavish spread of food.
Lynn ate while maintaining a subtle sense of vigilance.
After all, based on past experience—a troll in his first year and a basilisk in his second—Halloween at Hogwarts was rarely peaceful.
Yet time passed.
From appetizers to main courses, then desserts…
Nothing happened.
Until Dumbledore announced the end of the feast and reminded everyone about curfew.
This uneventful calm felt… strangely unsettling.
The next morning.
On the lawn before the castle, the entire school gathered to bid farewell to the visiting students and staff.
There were no long speeches. The three headmasters expressed their gratitude and warmly invited Hogwarts to visit their schools in the future.
Then, just as they had arrived—
Dark clouds gathered overhead, thunder rumbling softly. A massive column of water descended like a waterfall, followed by a blinding bolt of lightning that engulfed the Castelobruxo and Ilvermorny groups.
Water and lightning roared together.
When the light faded, they were gone.
Moments later, white mist rose gently from the ground, swirling around the Uagadou delegation.
The mist thickened into a hazy veil, obscuring them completely.
When it cleared, they too had vanished.
With that, the bustle of the international exchange quickly faded.
Hogwarts returned to normal.
Even the Dementors, following orders from the Ministry, were redeployed to the outskirts of Hogwarts and the edges of Hogsmeade.
That day, in Potions class, the air was filled with a lingering, unpleasant smell—something between overcooked cabbage and decaying organs.
Professor Snape moved through the classroom, as always, sharply criticizing every mistake with surgical precision.
Lynn's performance, however, remained "consistently excellent."
The Draught of Peace he brewed had a color and consistency even more refined than the textbook standard.
The bell rang.
Students hurriedly cleaned their cauldrons and packed up, eager to escape.
Lynn finished as well, leaving a vial of his Draught of Peace in the designated area before turning to leave with the others.
Just as he stepped across the threshold—
"Lynn."
The quiet voice made several nearby students stiffen before hastily fleeing.
Lynn stopped and turned.
Snape stood there, his expression unreadable.
"Follow me."
Without another word, Snape turned, his black robes billowing as he walked toward his office.