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The gates of Hogwarts Castle stood quiet as the wind and snow finally cleared.
Newt Scamander, holding a trunk in one hand and pressing a mobile phone tightly to his ear with the other, stepped onto the cleared stone steps in a slight hurry.
"...Tina, I promise, this time I'm really just stopping by to see how the grandsons are doing at Hogwarts..."
Tina's unmistakable voice of doubt came clearly through the receiver. Even across a long distance, it carried a power that made Newt subconsciously straighten his back.
"See the grandsons? Newt, look into my eyes! The Christmas holidays just started a few days ago! The grandsons are at home!" After saying that, Tina turned the mobile phone toward Rolf, who was teasing a Bowtruckle nearby.
Newt: Oops, I was only thinking about the Basilisk!
"And you just got away from that pile of fire-breathing trouble in Romania!
If Dumbledore is looking for you again, I'm warning you, don't forget the last time you 'happened' to go see a Norwegian Ridgeback hatchling and ended up being chased through an entire forest by a dragon pack!
And the time before that in Egypt, when you said you were just going to see a 'gentle' Sphinx..."
Tina was clearly "settling old scores" on the other end of the phone, each case making the sweat on Newt's forehead increase a bit more.
He had no choice but to give his wife a sheepish smile. "This time it's really different, Tina. Hogwarts is very safe, Dumbledore is here, and... cough, it might just be a consultation about... um... some historical magical creature management issues, purely academic!
I promise not to go near any unregistered creatures with aggressive tendencies, not to look at any ancient relics that might carry curses, and not to attempt any cross-species communication experiments not approved by the International Confederation of Wizards..."
He listed a series of "promises," his tone so sincere it almost sounded like he was swearing an oath.
After finally ending the call under Tina's final ultimatum to "stay in touch, report your safety every day, and don't turn off your mobile phone," Newt let out a long sigh of relief and carefully tucked the phone into his inner pocket.
He looked up and only then noticed the two people who had been waiting in the shadows of the entrance hall—Dumbledore and a very young boy standing beside him.
To be honest, when Newt saw Dumbledore's missed call, his first reaction had been to pretend he hadn't seen it.
But immediately afterward, a picture sent by Dumbledore completely shattered any thoughts of "evasion."
In the picture, a massive dark green, snake-like creature was coiled on the ground.
Beside it, Dumbledore had added a note: "Salazar Slytherin's Basilisk, confirmed to have survived for over a thousand years, currently in a relatively stable mood (claims it wants to retire).
Newt, are you really not coming to see it for yourself? It's a rare opportunity; it might like your trunk."
So Newt almost immediately packed his trunk and rushed over as fast as possible through legal Portkey channels.
For a scholar obsessed with magical creatures, this kind of temptation was simply irresistible.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Albus, and... er..." Newt stepped forward quickly, feeling a bit embarrassed as his gaze fell on Lynn.
"Lynn, Mr. Scamander. My name is Lynn." The boy took a step forward. "It's a pleasure to meet you; I've always liked your work."
"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Lynn."
The group didn't engage in much small talk or pleasantries—which suited Newt's personality perfectly, as he wasn't good at or keen on it anyway.
Dumbledore also knew his habits well and quickly led the conversation to the core.
"It's right under the Castle, in the Chamber of Secrets left by Slytherin," Dumbledore said softly. "Do you want to go see it now?"
Newt immediately nodded repeatedly; that was exactly why he had come.
Entering the castle gates, it was just afternoon, and several small groups of students in the corridors quickly noticed this uniquely dressed stranger.
Whispers spread rapidly.
"Hey, look at that man! Isn't that Newt Scamander? The author of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'?"
"Where? Let me see—Merlin! It really is him! Just like the photo in the book!"
"His coat! And that trunk! I heard there's a whole zoo inside!"
"I'm going to go ask for his autograph! My dad said his book saved his life when dealing with a mischievous pixie!"
Soon, a small group of excited students gathered around, holding quills and parchment, their eyes sparkling.
Newt appeared a bit flustered but still tried his best to satisfy the students' requests for autographs and seriously answered a few questions about raising Bowtruckles.
It wasn't until Dumbledore stepped in with a smile to clear the way, stating that Mr. Scamander had important business to attend to, that the students reluctantly dispersed.
"Being popular comes with a price, Newt," Dumbledore teased.
Newt only gave a shy smile.
They arrived at the entrance to the second-floor girls' bathroom, which had already been designated as a restricted area.
Powerful protective magic had been applied here, with an invisible magical barrier shimmering slightly. Without Dumbledore's permission, no one could enter or even notice anything unusual.
It was also thanks to a patient "negotiation" later—mainly the Basilisk repeatedly "hissing" its promise to Dumbledore that it could completely control its lethal gaze—that Dumbledore reluctantly agreed not to take extreme safety measures like "physical blinding," instead asking Newt to come and evaluate it.
Otherwise, Dumbledore might have seriously considered blinding the Basilisk before calling in an expert.
Passing through the barrier, they entered the Chamber of Secrets passage again and slid down the pipes.
When Newt first saw, with his own eyes, the thousand-year-old Basilisk coiled in the wide stone chamber, enjoying a large pile of roast steaks sent by the house-elves, even he couldn't help but draw in a sharp breath.
"Merlin... this size... the pattern of these scales... this ancient aura..."
Newt muttered to himself, almost wanting to open his trunk immediately to take out measuring tools and a notebook.
Lynn stepped forward at the right time and began his work as a "translator."
Dumbledore would say a sentence, and Lynn would repeat and translate it.
The Basilisk swallowed a large piece of sizzling, fatty steak, raised its head, and let out an eager hiss.
"Hiss hiss? Hiss hiss hiss (When can I officially retire and move to my new home? By the way, this roasted meat definitely tastes better than swallowing live rats raw)"
Dumbledore stroked his silver beard, thinking as he replied, "Well... we first need to ensure the forced curse on you is completely removed; that's the first step.
Then, Mr. Scamander will evaluate your health, behavioral stability, and ensure your future living environment won't pose any potential threat to others.
After that, we can discuss the specific... 'retirement placement' plan."
Lynn translated faithfully.
The Basilisk listened and flicked its tongue, appearing a bit disappointed, but it still accepted:
"Hiss hiss... hiss hiss hiss hiss (Fine... I've waited a thousand years; a few more days won't hurt. Remember to have roast steak tomorrow too, medium-rare.)"
After saying that, it lowered its head again and focused intently on dealing with the remaining food.
So, in the following days, Hogwarts students and faculty often saw Lynn frequently traveling between various potion ingredient storage rooms, greenhouses, the library's Restricted Section, and the "restricted" passage leading to the second-floor abandoned bathroom.
He was clearly busy brewing some complex potion.
Newt, on the other hand, was completely immersed in observing and recording the rare species of the Basilisk.
Newt used various magical detection methods to record the Basilisk's physiological data and behavioral patterns.
He also collected some naturally shed scales and environmental samples, busy and happy, his face always wearing the satisfied, focused expression characteristic of a researcher.
Dumbledore was busy handling other school affairs and figuring out how to submit an "incident report" to the Ministry of Magic and the Caro family that could explain part of the truth while protecting Hogwarts and Lynn without causing panic...
A few days later, one afternoon, in front of the potion workstation in the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets, Lynn held up a crystal bottle.
The liquid in the bottle was a pale gold color, slightly thicker than water. Under the light of the magical torches on the chamber walls, tiny specks of light seemed to be slowly flowing inside.
"Finally... it's finished!"
There was a trace of undetectable fatigue in Lynn's voice, but more than that, the joy of success.
This was the ultimate curse-breaking formula he had finally determined after several days and nights of repeated trials and adjustments, based on ancient records, combined with the optimized intuition brought by Potions Favor, and a detailed analysis of the curse residue on the Basilisk.
Newt stood to the side, his eyes filled with undisguised wonder and admiration.
"Remarkable... truly remarkable, Lynn," he said softly. "The preparation of an antidote for this type of complex ancient curse is extremely challenging even for an experienced Potions Master... You're a true genius."
Dumbledore also walked over, looking at the pale gold potion and nodding in approval.
Lynn gave a shy smile. "It's all hard work and sweat!"
Witnessed by Dumbledore and Newt, Lynn fed the potion to the Basilisk.
As the potion entered its stomach, the Basilisk's massive body first shuddered slightly, and then a faint golden glow began to emanate from its entire body.
In a short while, the Basilisk let out a comfortable hiss, its massive head slowly drooping as it fell into sleep.
Dumbledore stepped forward and examined it carefully.
"The curse residue is fading rapidly... the structure has completely disintegrated. It seems the potion has taken full effect. When it wakes up naturally, it should be free from its shackles.
The task of evaluating its subsequent state and the possibility of placement is officially handed over to you, Newt."
Dumbledore patted Newt's shoulder and then turned to leave the Chamber of Secrets; he still had a mountain of reports to deal with.