Although he had already witnessed all sorts of unfamiliar magic outside the tower, magic that did not fit anywhere within his own system of understanding, when Dumbledore truly stepped inside, the old man, who had lived for well over a century, still felt an indescribable sense of wonder.
From the outside, it looked like nothing more than a stone tower covering less than a hundred square meters.
But beyond the door was an enormous hall, so spacious it could only be described as palatial.
Underfoot lay a Persian carpet as soft as clouds. Dozens of glowing orbs floated overhead, casting a gentle white light. On either side of the hall were spiraling staircases leading upward, and beyond them stood several void-like doors that opened into unknown rooms.
An Extension Charm? Dumbledore assessed inwardly, only to dismiss the thought a moment later. No, that’s not right. An Extension Charm merely stretches space. The spatial structure here is extraordinarily stable, so stable it almost seems to obey its own independent rules. In that sense, it’s more like that room I once wandered into at Hogwarts late at night...
It seemed the master of this tower was no less accomplished in magic than he was.
"Please, have a seat, Headmaster Dumbledore."
Lynn gave a casual wave of his hand.
No one could be seen in the air, yet an exquisite velvet armchair slid neatly into place behind Dumbledore of its own accord. Immediately afterward, a translucent figure with only the vaguest outline of a human shape drifted over carrying a tray. On it sat two cups of steaming blue liquid.
"An Unseen Servant," Lynn explained. "Don’t worry, it doesn’t have a physical body, so it won’t shed hair into your drink. This is a ’focus potion’ I mixed myself. It’s very effective for restoring mental clarity."
Dumbledore accepted the cup, and the unique magical taste made his eyes brighten slightly.
"Remarkable magical skill."
He spoke with heartfelt admiration, his blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles resting on the man before him with a look that was gentle.
"You are only around thirty, are you not? Forgive my curiosity, but I do not believe I have ever seen your name on the rolls of any magical school."
Lynn sat across from him, the dozen or so defensive spells covering his body already fully dismissed.
After the initial shock, and with the known clues laid out before him, the generally weak monsters, the fact that he could still cast spells despite being unable to connect to the Weave, and this self-proclaimed Dumbledore who was evidently a Level 15 wizard, he had more or less confirmed it.
This really was the world of Harry Potter.
And if that was the case, then what he needed right now was a mysterious and powerful identity.
"A name is only a label. You may call me Lynn Gray."
He casually made up a surname. In D&D lore, gray often symbolized neutrality.
"As for my lineage..." Lynn paused, and the image of the goddess of magic from the world of D&D surfaced in his mind. "My mentor was a lady named Mystra. She has lived in isolation for many years, so I imagine you’ve never heard of her."
"Mystra..." Dumbledore searched his memory, but found nothing. He nodded and did not probe further. "It would seem the world is wider than I imagined."
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the atmosphere in the hall gradually became more serious.
Dumbledore set down his cup and quietly surveyed the surroundings. "Mr. Gray, judging from the furnishings here, you seem to have lived in this Albanian forest for quite some time."
"For a very long time indeed." Lynn sighed, and there was a trace of hard-won weariness in his tone. "If I count it up, I’ve already been here for a full ten years."
If I’d known this was the Harry Potter world... would I really have spent ten whole years grinding monsters here? he grumbled inwardly.
"Ten years?"
A sharp light flashed through Dumbledore’s eyes for an instant.
The timing was far too sensitive. That was when Voldemort had disappeared in Godric’s Hollow, and when he had fled to Albania.
He fixed his gaze on Lynn’s eyes. Though his tone remained calm, there was an invisible pressure behind it.
"If you have lived here for so long, then there is something I would like to ask you to confirm."
"During these past ten years, have you ever seen a strange... shadow in the forest? Or perhaps some kind of exiled being, one that possessed animals and carried an unmistakably evil aura?"
Lynn froze for a moment.
A shadow? Possession? An exile? And... the Albanian forest?
As he recalled the books and films he had seen in childhood, it suddenly felt as though certain pieces had clicked into place.
If this was the Albanian forest, then the shadow and exile Dumbledore was talking about was most likely Voldemort, the one who had failed to kill Harry Potter and had instead lost his own body.
And the thing Lynn had done most often over the last ten years...
...was kill that little mob called a Demilich to grind levels.
The corner of Lynn’s mouth twitched slightly.
No way.
That elite mob I’d been batting around with Magic Missile, blasting into the dirt with Shatter, and cutting down again every time it respawned and desperately tried to run outside my wards...
...was the Dark Lord?
The Dark Lord who had terrified the entire British wizarding world so badly no one even dared say his name?
Seeing the strange look that had suddenly come over Lynn’s face, Dumbledore’s heart sank. The fingers holding his teacup tightened just a little.
"So you have seen him?" he asked, his voice lower now. "Did he... do anything to you?"
"Uh, yes, I did see him."
Lynn rubbed his brow and decided to tell the truth. There was no real reason to lie to Dumbledore about this.
"I found it as soon as I first arrived here ten years ago. The thing just wouldn’t stay dead. Every time I blasted it apart with magic, it would re-form again not long afterward..."
"And then?" Dumbledore leaned forward slightly.
"And then I started using it as my test subject for magical experiments..." Lynn shrugged. "Over the last ten years, I probably ’killed’ it... well, I didn’t keep exact count, but probably a few thousand times? Roughly once a day on average. More if I happened to be in a bad mood."
"Then last summer, I think he finally snapped. While I was asleep, he possessed a passing human and escaped. He hasn’t come back since."
At that, Lynn let out a rather regretful sigh.
"What a shame. He was such a good live-fire target."
"..."
The hall fell into a deathly silence.
The hand in which Dumbledore held his teacup trembled almost imperceptibly.
A few thousand times?
He had treated Voldemort like target practice for a few thousand rounds???
Even for Dumbledore, who had seen more than most could imagine, the revelation sent a storm crashing through his heart. Looking at the casually speaking man before him, he suddenly understood why Voldemort had returned this past year so weak, so unstable, and so utterly deranged.
Anyone would have broken after being tormented in a living hell for ten years.
But at the same time, Dumbledore felt a quiet sense of relief.
At the very least, one thing was now certain.
The powerful wizard in front of him was absolutely not one of Voldemort’s followers.
"Ahem."
Dumbledore cleared his throat, forcefully smoothing over the turbulence in his emotions. His trademark gentle smile returned to his face.
"I had originally feared that the dark wraith might have harmed an innocent. But now, it would seem... my concern was unnecessary."
Dumbledore rose to his feet and formally extended an invitation.
"Mr. Gray, since your ’research subject’ has already departed, might you have any interest in changing your surroundings?"
"Hogwarts currently happens to be in need of a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The former professor, Quirrell... who was also the man who took that dark wraith away... unfortunately passed away. We need someone with genuine expertise."
"Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" Lynn lifted a brow.
Of course he knew that position.
Hogwarts stood forever, but the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors came and went. It was a notoriously hazardous post, one Voldemort himself had cursed.
Then again...
The man who cast that curse had been farmed by Lynn as a mob for nine years.
That curse probably wouldn’t do much to him.
Thinking it over carefully, if this really was the wizarding world, then he truly did need to go to Hogwarts.
He might already be Level 11, but if he wanted to reach the higher legendary realm, Level 20, simply killing monsters would no longer be enough. He needed to analyze the magical laws of this world. He needed a massive store of knowledge.
"I have two conditions." Lynn raised two fingers.
"Please, go on."
"First, I want unrestricted reading access to the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library. I’m very interested in your magical system."
"Second, the salary needs to be high." Lynn pointed at the expensive experimental apparatus around him. "My research burns through money. I’d rather not end up robbing a bank because I can’t afford a few diamonds for spellcasting."
"Entirely reasonable requests."
Dumbledore agreed so quickly that there was even a glint of slyness in his eyes.
"Hogwarts has always been generous toward scholars who pursue knowledge. As for the salary, while it cannot rival the manager of Gringotts, it should still be more than respectable."
The two men exchanged a smile, arriving at a tacit understanding.
Just before they prepared to leave, Dumbledore’s gaze once more fell on Lynn’s empty hands.
"One more question, if I may, Lynn," Dumbledore asked with curiosity. "Your spellcasting system... seems to have wholly abandoned the wand as a medium. That is exceptionally rare in the wizarding world."
"A wand?"
Lynn gave a light laugh. At last, he had a chance to show off a little of a D&D archmage’s superiority.
"In my homeland, we believe magic comes from one’s own internal structure, not from some stick held in the hand. A wand can stabilize output, certainly, but it also places a limit on the upper threshold of one’s magic."
Lynn raised a hand, and with a slight movement of his fingers, a small but intricate arcane geometric model flashed briefly above his palm.
"I carve spell models into my mind. My body is the vessel, and my will is the guide. That is far more reliable than depending on an external object."
Dumbledore watched the fleeting model, brief though it was, and nodded thoughtfully.
"A very enlightening perspective. If the opportunity arises in the future, I would very much like to learn more about this... spell-model method of casting."
"Of course."
"Then we should depart."
Dumbledore stood and straightened his robes. "Hogwarts begins term in one month. You will still need to prepare a few necessities for daily life, so we must first make a trip to London."
"One moment. Let me pack up."
Lynn turned around and looked over the room full of laboratory equipment and the massive operating table.
During these past ten years, he had been extremely cautious. To make sure he could flee at any time if necessary, he had long ago used Permanency to make Shrink Item available on all of the valuable equipment in his laboratory,
"Shrink Item."
Hum...
A burst of blue light swept through the room.
The experimental tables that weighed several tons, the bookshelves, even the expensive carpet, all instantly shrank like deflating balloons until they were no bigger than palm-sized pieces of cloth.
Lynn casually stuffed the "cloth pieces" into the pockets of his robe and dusted off his hands.
"All right. Let’s go."
Dumbledore said nothing as he watched, but his brows rose a little higher all the same.
That effortless display of transmutation and spatial compression once again revised his assessment of this "self-taught" wizard upward.
"Take hold of my arm."
Dumbledore extended his left arm and said with a smile, "We’ll be using Apparition. There may be a slight... sensation of dizziness."
Lynn looked at the offered arm and frowned.
He had read about this method of transportation in the books. It felt like being forced through a narrow pipe, an absolutely miserable experience. Compared to that, his own Teleport was practically first-class luxury travel.
Unfortunately, Teleport required a very clear understanding of the destination, which the current Lynn obviously did not possess.
Complaining inwardly, Lynn reluctantly grabbed Dumbledore’s arm.
Pop!
With a sharp crack, the figures of the two men twisted and vanished from the wizard tower in an instant.
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