The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 129 Unexpected Intrusion

Chapter 129 Unexpected Intrusion

A pair of shiny black leather shoes stopped a short distance in front of him.

A slender hand picked up his broken round-framed glasses.

Harry was covered in soot, his skin was bruised from the impact, he felt dizzy, and his stomach was churning.

He squinted his nearsighted eyes, barely managed to lift his head, and made out the person standing in front of him.

"Professor Lynch!?"

Harry cried out and struggled to his feet.

He never imagined that he would fall out of the fireplace and land right in front of Professor Lynch.

"It's Uncle Lynch."

Lynch waved the back of his hand at Harry, and an invisible breeze swept by, stripping Harry of all the soot and the smoky smell.

Then, he pointed at the broken glasses in his hand, and the frame silently healed as if time had reversed, and the cracks on the lenses disappeared without a trace, restoring them to their original state.

He handed the glasses to Harry.

Harry put on his glasses and realized they were in an extremely spacious, incredibly high circular room. Instead of walls, the room was filled with enormous bookshelves that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, crammed with books and scrolls of all shapes and sizes, and made of various leathers. An elegant, curved staircase spiraled upwards, leading to an even higher gallery of bookshelves.

The smooth, dark marble floor beneath his feet was icy cold; it was where he had just fallen.

The room contained a huge desk made of dark driftwood, with brass trim at the corners. Stacks of parchment documents were neatly piled on its surface, and a magnificent peacock quill pen sat in an inkwell.

Several peculiar silver instruments were also placed on the table.

Behind the desk sat a person completely shrouded in a gray robe, almost blending into the dark bookshelves in the background; no wonder Harry didn't notice him immediately.

Noticing Harry's gaze fall behind the desk, Lynch introduced, "This is Reggie, my good friend, and he also has another identity—the president of the Stone Tower Merchant Guild."

Harry's eyes widened; he hadn't expected that this grey-robed man was the mysterious president of the Stone Tower Merchant Guild.

The grey-robed man—Reggie—spoke, asking Harry in a hoarse, flat voice, "How did you get in here?"

Harry was startled by his voice again.

Apart from Voldemort, he had never imagined that a normal person could produce such a deep, hoarse sound, as uncomfortable as sandpaper rubbing against stone.

Seeing Harry's shock and discomfort, Lynch patted him on the shoulder and explained, "Reggie suffered a very serious injury more than ten years ago. Although he survived, his appearance and voice were irreparably damaged. He usually doesn't see outsiders; this is his private office and study."

Hearing Lynch's words, Harry felt a pang of guilt and quickly bowed towards Reggie, saying, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Reggie. I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright." Reggie waved his hand, and bandages could be faintly seen wrapped around the sleeves of his gray robe. "Tell me, child, how did you activate and connect to this specific, supposedly blocked, private FlooNet node?"

"I...I used Floo Powder in the Burrow and wanted to get to Diagon Alley," Harry answered honestly, still not daring to look up. "But when I called out my name, I choked on some ash and probably mispronounced it—and when I came to my senses, I fell out of this fireplace." He pointed to the unusually clean fireplace behind him.

"So..." Lynch concluded, "this was an accident. The Weasleys' fireplaces couldn't possibly be connected here."

Upon hearing the words "Weasleys," Harry suddenly realized that he hadn't come out of the correct fireplace, and Ron and the others must be very worried.

He said somewhat anxiously, "Uncle Lynch, Mr. Reggie. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley must be looking for me. I need to tell them I'm alright."

After saying that, he turned around and walked towards the office door.

But he only took half a step before Lynch pressed down on his shoulder: "If the Weasleys are all in Diagon Alley, then I'll send someone to bring them over. Right now, the most important thing for you is to treat your injuries."

Hearing Lynch's words, Harry finally felt the pain all over his body, including the burning sensation on his nose, a lingering effect of his face hitting the ground.

From the moment he saw Lynch, he was caught in a constant cycle of surprise, tension, and embarrassment, to the point that he completely ignored the protests his body was sending.

Lynch put his arm around Harry's shoulder and led him toward the office door.

"I'll take this child out first, and we'll talk later."

He said to Reggie.

"Okay," Reggie replied in a flat tone. "I'll send someone to the Weasleys first, and then I'll have someone check my fireplace joint."

Lynch pushed open the door and led Harry out, closing the door behind them and shutting out the circular study.

In an instant, the view suddenly opened up.

Harry found himself standing on a dizzyingly high circular bridge.

Underfoot is smooth, mirror-like dark marble, and on the other side is a waist-high glass railing.

Beyond the railing, seemingly fixed in the void, a massive expanse of magical crystal forms a transparent floor, looking directly down and revealing the view of the several floors below without reservation.

The figures, now much smaller, moved along the corridor below, like colorful beetles.

Starting from the center of the transparent floor, the huge waterfall chandelier I had seen before cascaded down, illuminating every floor.

He then realized where he was—the very top floor of the Stone Tower Chamber of Commerce's pristine white tower, a core area that had never been made public before.

"This way, Harry." Lynch's voice snapped him out of his shock.

Harry snapped out of his daze and followed Lynch down the corridor to the outside of a room.

Pushing open the door, I saw two healers dressed in white robes sitting inside.

They gave Harry a bottle of ginger-flavored potion, swept his body twice with their wands, and Harry's injuries were healed.

Harry thought their healing magic might be even more powerful than Madam Pomfrey's at the school.

Following Lynch out of the treatment room, Harry felt even more troubled, though his body was no longer in pain. He glanced at the beautiful scenery on the other side of the railing, but had no heart to appreciate it.

"Uncle Lynch," he looked up eagerly, "when are we going to find Mr. Weasley and the others? They must be worried sick."

"Don't worry," Lynch's voice was reassuring, "Reggie is very reliable. If he agreed to send someone to pick him up, the Weasleys should be on their way by now."

He glanced at Harry's anxious expression, then paused, "If you're really in a hurry, I'll take you downstairs. We'll wait for them at the guild's entrance."