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Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office
Newt and Dumbledore sat opposite each other. The former had already packed his signature trunk and placed it by his feet, looking ready to depart at any moment.
"Are you sure you won't stay at Hogwarts for a few more days?" Dumbledore folded his fingers on the table, attempting to persuade him with family ties.
Newt shook his head hurriedly. "No, Albus. Tina has already started using the two-way mirror to urge me back, and her tone… well, it's becoming more and more 'firm.'"
Dumbledore chuckled awkwardly.
"Speaking of which, I've recently heard that over in the United States, there seems to be something about a 'long-hidden'…" Dumbledore deliberately slowed his speech, trying to introduce a new topic.
However, before he could get to the details—
Whoosh!
Newt Scamander, the elderly magizoologist, suddenly sprang up from his armchair!
He snatched his trunk from the floor with one hand, grabbed his coat from the back of the chair with the other, and strode toward the door without looking back.
Newt: As long as I don't listen, no new events can "trouble" me.
"Newt? Wait, I was just saying the United States has—" Dumbledore raised his hand, still trying to continue.
The moment the words "United States" drifted over again, Newt quickened his pace.
He waved without turning around, his voice echoing from the stairwell: "Goodbye, Albus! I wish you a plentiful supply of lemon sherbets!"
Before his voice had even faded, he had already disappeared down the spiral staircase.
Dumbledore held his hand in the air for a moment before slowly lowering it.
"He runs quite fast… It seems Tina's 'deterrence' is more effective than any rare magical creature."
Dumbledore picked up a lemon sherbet and decided not to "harass" his old friend's rare family time any further.
Hufflepuff Dormitory
With a soft click, the dormitory door opened, and Edgar's voice came in first:
"Lynn! We're back! We brought you some new products from Honeydukes—hiss, what's that smell?"
Edgar sniffed, catching an indescribably sweet scent.
The dormitory was quiet. The chair Lynn usually occupied was empty, and the quilt on his bed was neatly folded—likely the work of a house-elf. No one responded.
William adjusted his glasses, his gaze sweeping across the room.
He quickly noticed the trunk lying open on the floor.
"Lynn?" William walked over but didn't jump in recklessly. Instead, he curled his fingers and knocked thump-thump-thump on the sturdy shell of the trunk, raising his voice. "Are you in there? We're back."
Deep inside the trunk
Lynn, who was admiring several large bottles filled with a strange, fluorescent green liquid, heard the knocking and the call from above.
He poked his head out of the trunk.
"Hey! You guys are back early?"
"Someone didn't have anyone to spend Christmas with, so the three of us talked it over and came back early. Well? Moved?" Edgar said with a grin.
"You came back at the perfect time. Let me show you some good stuff I just made—I guarantee you've never seen anything like it!" Lynn smoothly redirected the conversation.
Edgar, William, and Ollie exchanged glances before climbing down into the trunk one by one.
They had barely steadied themselves before Edgar's attention was captured by a massive shape nearby.
"Merlin's… triangular basket!" Edgar gasped, eyes widening as he pointed at the Basilisk. "Th-this… such a huge snake?!"
William and Ollie followed his gaze—and froze on the spot.
"Let me explain."
After a brief explanation…
"You mean to say…" Edgar swallowed hard. "This… this is the Basilisk from the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets?"
Lynn nodded. "That's right. The legacy of Salazar Slytherin—an 'old corporate slave' that worked for a thousand years—is now a new member of my family. I've given it a new name: Jail, to commemorate its long 'prison labor' life."
William, recovering slightly from the shock, adjusted his glasses and asked the most crucial question:
"So… the one that petrified me… was it?"
Lynn: "..."
He rarely found himself at a loss for words.
"…Theoretically, yes. But you have to understand—it was being forcibly controlled by Tom. It was a case of 'mandatory overtime beyond its control.'"
He turned and called out:
"Jail! Stop pretending to sleep—get up and say hello to my friends!"
Hearing this, the thousand-year-old Basilisk lazily lifted its head and hissed at the three boys.
According to Lynn's translation, it meant:
"Hello, new two-legged creatures.
As for the petrification… well, I'm sorry.
But I truly did my best to minimize the damage. I only used the lowest-power 'stare-and-they-freeze' setting—not the 'stare-and-they-die' package.
If you want to blame someone, blame that black-hearted boss named Tom."
Lynn translated faithfully, placing particular emphasis on "forced" and "did its best to restrain itself."
After hearing the explanation, William's expression softened considerably, and he arrived at a firm conclusion—
This was all Lockhart's fault for releasing Tom.
After the brief introductions and settling of "historical grievances," the atmosphere relaxed significantly.
The Basilisk, however, had no interest in what followed. It slowly slithered toward the "retirement zone" Lynn had prepared—a swamp-and-woodland environment—and resumed enjoying its peaceful afterlife.
"Alright, historical issues settled!" Lynn clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention.
"Now—come try my newly brewed special reserve: Basilisk Wine!"
With a flick of his wand, a glass bottle floated down from a nearby shelf.
The liquid inside glowed fluorescent green, slightly viscous, with the cork tightly sealed in wax.
"Don't just stare!" Lynn said, noticing the suspicion written all over their faces.
"Drink! Don't worry—I've already conducted 'clinical trials' myself. It went through seventeen or eighteen revisions! As long as you're not currently poisoned, there are absolutely no side effects."
He patted his chest confidently, though a certain unfortunate, round wizard flashed through his mind—someone who had endured seventeen or eighteen full cycles of poisoning and treatment.
The three still hesitated, holding their cups.
Rolling his eyes, Lynn poured himself half a cup.
Under their nervous gazes, he raised it and drank it in one go without changing expression.
"Burp~" He set the cup down and smacked his lips, looking energized. "See? No problem. Tastes pretty good too—kind of sweet."
Seeing that Lynn, the creator, was completely fine, the three finally gathered their courage.
"Drink!" Edgar declared. "At worst, we'll just go to the infirmary and find Madam Pomfrey!"
He took the first sip.
"Huh? This… the taste… it's kind of sweet? Like some strange fruit juice… and a bit warm?"
William also took a small sip, his brow furrowing slightly.
Soon, both of them began to feel lightheaded.
"Lynn…" William said, shaking his increasingly heavy head, "what's the… alcohol content… of this wine? I feel… a bit strange…"
Lynn waved dismissively. "No alcohol—it's home-brewed, pure natural fermentation. The Basilisk venom essence was diluted and purified, then mixed with eight rare herbs and filtered through unicorn hair… Anyway, drink with confidence. The 'kick' is just a bit special—everyone reacts differently."
They turned to look at Ollie.
Ollie had silently taken a sip earlier.
Now, he sat there holding an empty cup, eyes unfocused…
Then—
Thud.
He collapsed sideways and fell asleep.
Edgar: "…What kind of reaction is that?!"
William rubbed his spinning head, looked at the still half-full cup in his hand, then at the already unconscious Ollie, and finally at Lynn—who looked perfectly normal.
"…Whatever. Cheers."
Following Edgar's lead, he downed the rest in one gulp.
Thud!
Thud!
Youth is wonderful—you fall asleep the moment your head hits the ground.