Chapter 132: The Mental Defense Charm
Improving the Vanishing Cabinet was a familiar task for Wade—second nature, really. He completed it in half the expected time.
The Disguise Charm, however, proved slightly more complex. But Wade had already spent considerable time studying it independently, and with a solid foundation in Transfiguration, by Saturday evening, he had finally mastered it to a proficient level.
At present, his Disguise Charm only altered color—subtle enough that it could pass at first glance, but still detectable upon close inspection. Yet, with sufficient magical power, the charm could render a person completely invisible.
Additionally, repairing an Invisibility Cloak also required the use of the Disguise Charm.
With the assigned task completed ahead of schedule, Wade had an entire day left over for the weekend.
“Maybe you could take a stroll through Hogsmeade Village?” Remus Lupin suggested, recalling his own favorite pastimes from student days. “There are plenty of interesting spots nearby. I’d be happy to show you around. If you want to buy anything, I can help you get it.”
But Wade asked, “Remus, can you cast the Imperius Curse?”
Remus Lupin’s expression shifted—slightly strained. “The Imperius Curse is one of the three Unforgivable Curses… Do you even know about the Unforgivable Curses?”
“I know,” Wade said calmly. “The Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Killing Curse—those are the three Unforgivable Curses. Using any of them on another person results in a life sentence in Azkaban.”
“Then you should understand,” Remus said firmly, “that I would never teach you such a spell. These are dark magic—evil magic. No one should learn or touch them.”
“It’s getting late. You should head back to school.”
He turned toward the Vanishing Cabinet.
“Don’t be so sensitive, Remus,” Wade replied. “I’m not asking you to teach me the Imperius Curse. I just want to know—can Mental Defense magic resist the Imperius Curse?”
Remus Lupin realized his mistake. A faint awkwardness flickered across his face, but he didn’t feel right calling himself overly reactive—after all, Wade was always eager to learn, always absorbing knowledge at an astonishing pace. Even now, surpassing many graduates in skill, he still seemed unsatisfied.
That insatiable hunger for knowledge, that relentless pursuit… it sometimes made Remus Lupin feel uneasy.
Once Wade had mastered the standard curriculum, what would stop him from turning toward more powerful dark magic?
Remus didn’t know. But his sense of responsibility kept him worried.
After a moment of silence, he said, “If your willpower is strong enough, you can resist the Imperius Curse. But… Mental Defense does help, too.”
In truth, Mental Defense wasn’t just effective against the Imperius Curse—it could also prevent possession, and even block the effects of Veritaserum.
Back when the Wizengamot had considered Sirius Black’s case, they’d seriously debated whether he might have such defenses. Even under Veritaserum, they couldn’t be certain he was telling the truth.
Add to that the circumstances: Sirius had murdered Peter Pettigrew, was known to be a secret-keeper, and yet James and Lily Potter had been killed in their own home—by Voldemort.
And so, without trial, Sirius Black was sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban.
Years had passed. Remus had never had the chance to ask his old friends—why?
Dazed for a moment, Remus snapped back to awareness at the sound of his student’s voice.
“My Mental Defense has been practiced for a long time,” Wade said. “I’d like you to test how well it’s working.”
Mind Clearing was not difficult to practice—but the boundary between it and zoning out was thin. Without actually experiencing a real mental intrusion, it was impossible to know whether one’s defenses were truly effective.
Remus Lupin paused, then asked, “You’re not worried I’ll see your memories?”
“I trust you won’t pry into my mind,” Wade said. “And if it involves true privacy, I’ll use other magic to protect it.”
He remembered Harry’s experience—how even with mental defenses in place, a strong offensive spell could break through. A Disarming Charm, for instance, could disrupt the focus.
“…Alright,” Remus said, no choice but to agree. He drew his wand. “When you’re ready, we’ll begin.”
“Of course,” Wade replied, drawing his own wand. “Let’s start.”
“Three… two… one… Legilimens!”
A magical invasion. Remus felt immediate resistance—like pushing against a wall. He could only access blankness.
One second… two seconds…
After fifteen seconds, suddenly, like a soap bubble bursting, a flood of images surged through—
Eating in the Great Hall…
Classes…
Writing assignments…
Eating again…
Walking with friends through the castle corridors…
Writing assignments…
Classes…
Remus ended the spell voluntarily.
“You didn’t resist at all?” Remus asked, genuinely surprised.
Given what he knew of Wade, his mental defenses shouldn’t have been broken so quickly.
“Clearing the mind completely is like admitting something’s wrong,” Wade said, grimacing. “I tried not to remember anything… but eventually I realized—overlaying it with false memories might be better.”
Remus was speechless for a long moment.
Wade hesitated. “Did I mess up?”
He remembered Snape—Master of Mental Defense, who had worked as a spy for Voldemort. When the Dark Lord tried to read his mind, could Snape have simply shown a blank slate?
No. He must have allowed Voldemort to see exactly what he wanted—never resisting, but manipulating.
That was the direction Wade had been striving toward.
“No,” Remus finally said, “ordinary wizards rarely achieve this level. But if you can learn to overlay memories—better yet, to forge them—then you’ll be truly formidable.”
“But we’ll need a different method of practice.”
He took a bright red apple from the cabinet and placed it on the table. “Stare at it. Memorize the image. Then hide that memory—make it impossible for me to find.”
Wade studied the apple.
Remus asked, “What’s your favorite fruit?”
“Watermelon,” Wade replied casually. “Mango and cherry are good too.”
“Legilimens!”
Suddenly, Remus’s spell erupted.
Images flashed—
Eating in the Great Hall…
Classes…
Writing assignments…
Eating…
Classes…
Flying on a broomstick…
A giant-sized tapestry…
Reading books…
The red apple…
Then—a red spell erupted from Wade’s wand, striking Remus’s wand and sending him staggering back. Wade stumbled, nearly falling.
His head throbbed—pain flared behind his eyes.
Remus steadied him, helped him sit, and poured a cup of hot chocolate.
“Not bad at all,” Remus said, smiling. “For a first attempt, this is extraordinary.”
Wade sipped the drink. There was something strange in it—some subtle magic that eased the throbbing in his forehead.
“I couldn’t resist,” he sighed, disappointment clear. “I knew it. I reacted instinctively—I was trying to conceal the Room of Requirement. The apple gave me away.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Wade,” Remus said gently. “This is incredibly difficult magic. No one masters it overnight. It takes years of practice.”
Wade rested for a moment, then set down the cup and drew his wand once more.
“Again.”
(End of Chapter)
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