The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 51 Let's run!

On Friday afternoon, as compulsory students from grades one to three, along with some upperclassmen who had taken elective courses, changed into appropriate sportswear according to the dress code outlined on their timetables, they arrived one after another at the field next to the Forbidden Forest.

Three figures, two large and one small, stood on the ground: two wizards and a house-elf.

The young wizards quickly recognized the wizard in a sharp three-piece suit with a calm smile as Professor Lynch, the most popular figure at the school this week.

The witch standing beside him was dressed in her signature white healer's robes, her silver-grey hair neatly pinned up at the back of her head, and thin metal-chain glasses perched on her nose; she was the school doctor, Mrs. Pomfrey.

But the most eye-catching thing was the tiny house-elf at Professor Lynch's feet.

Unlike the house-elves that young wizards usually imagine, dressed in tattered pillowcases, this elf was wearing a miniature yet impeccably tailored black tuxedo.

At this moment, he tried his best to straighten his small body, his huge tennis ball-shaped eyes darted around anxiously, fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and when his gaze swept over the gradually gathering crowd, he revealed an undisguised tension.

The young wizards stepped onto the stands that Hagrid had moved to the edge of the arena and each found their own seats.

Many Muggle-born students, including Harry, were seeing a house-elf for the first time, curiously observing this strange creature. Some even whispered comparisons of him to Professor Flitwick, who was also short in stature.

"Ron, what's that?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"That...it must be a house-elf..." Ron scratched his fiery red hair, his face full of confusion. "But...aren't house-elves usually dressed in...um...rags like old pillowcases? But one dressed in a tuxedo like this...I've never seen one before, nor have I heard Dad or anyone else mention it."

"House-elves? What are they?" Harry pressed.

"Hmm..." Ron tried to recall the information he had overheard from his family's casual conversation, "They are an ancient magical creature, and their magic is very special and extraordinary."

They usually serve as servants in some wizarding families.

They are extremely loyal and obedient to their masters, making them highly sought after. Generally, only ancient and incredibly wealthy families can afford to keep them, like the Malfoys.

After answering Harry's question, Ron's brow remained furrowed as he tried to match the house-elf next to Professor Lynch with the house-elf he remembered.

The more he thought about it, the more confused he became, but this confusion was not unique to Ron.

In fact, at this moment, everyone on the field who had a basic understanding of house-elves shared the same doubts as Ron.

In Slytherin’s area, this astonishment quickly escalated into cold scrutiny and undisguised disgust—they secretly believed that this was yet another deliberate provocation by Professor Lynch against the pure-blood tradition.

No upperclassmen Slytherin students took the course, but first- to third-year students couldn't escape it and had to attend reluctantly.

Forced by Snape's strict orders, they dared not show any disrespect to Lynch.

At this moment, he poured all his dissatisfaction with Lynch onto this house-elf.

Each cold gaze was like a needle, making the beads of sweat on Totz's forehead even more concentrated. He resisted the urge to raise his hand to wipe them away, his small body tensing even more.

Once the students were mostly seated, Lin Qi's voice rang out clearly: "Good afternoon."

He turned slightly to the two people beside him, gesturing: "This is Madam Pomfrey from the school infirmary, and this is Thors, Hogwarts' house-elf. In the coming lessons, they will assist me in ensuring your training is safe and effective."

He paused, then unfolded a roll of parchment. "Now, let's begin the roll call."

The students whose names are called below are the regular students of the Magic Research class this academic year. I don't want to see anyone absent without a valid reason.

To reiterate, this course is compulsory for students in grades one through three, and becomes elective from grade four onwards.

If you do not wish to continue this course after fourth grade, you must clearly inform me at the beginning of the semester; otherwise, I will assume you will continue, and you will be responsible for any consequences of absenteeism.

The lengthy roll call process began. Lin Qi's gaze swept across the stands, carefully matching the names on the list with each young face, memorizing them one by one.

After roll call, the parchment was put away.

Lynch's gaze swept across the room again, taking in the expectant, youthful faces. He chose to get straight to the point: "In the last class, we clarified the two essential core qualities for becoming an outstanding wizard—magic and willpower."

He slowly raised two fingers, then lowered one, leaving only his slender index finger: "Although there are two distinct traits, there is a way to cultivate both traits simultaneously."

"So you only need to focus on this one method of self-forging." His voice was calm and resolute. "When you can break through your own limits under this method of forging, your magic and will will naturally increase accordingly."

In the stands, the young wizards held their breath, their eyes filled with confusion and curiosity.

"The core of this method of forging oneself," Lynch calmly uttered the word, "is pain."

Harry and Ron's eyes widened, and the young wizards around them stared in disbelief. A soft gasp rippled through the stands.

Lin Qi seemed oblivious, continuing to analyze the underlying principles in his calm voice:

"Magic originates from the depths of the soul, and the strength of the soul is the cornerstone of the growth of magic."

So, how can one strengthen their own soul?

After years of research and summarization, I've come to the conclusion that unwavering willpower is the best nourishment for the soul!

He paused slightly, letting the weight of his words sink in, "And to forge an unbreakable will, one needs to undergo the tempering of extreme emotions."

Burning love, overwhelming hatred, profound sorrow, excruciating pain...

All of these can temper your will and strengthen your soul.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile seemed to flicker across the corner of his mouth, carrying a hint of helplessness: "However, you are just a bunch of children now."

Aside from manageable physical pain, the guided release of other extreme emotions cannot be safely conducted in the classroom.

The tense atmosphere in the stands did not ease as a result.

"But you don't need to worry," Lynch changed the subject, his tone returning to its usual calm, "This is not about harming or abusing you."

The practice I've chosen to make you experience pain is running—running with all your might until you reach your physical limit, that critical point where one more step and you're on the verge of fainting.

His gaze fell upon the meticulous Mrs. Pomfrey beside him: "Mrs. Pomfrey will oversee the entire process, accurately assess each person's limits, and ensure that you recover quickly and completely once you reach your limits."

My house-elf, Tots, will assist her throughout this task.

Having finished his explanation, Lin Qi said no more.

He surveyed the entire room and issued his instructions clearly and concisely:

"Now, everyone, run around this area!"