Chapter 188: The Cave Expedition

Only one week remained until the end of the term. Snow had fallen all night, and when morning came, the grounds of the Castle were blanketed in white. The Forbidden Forest in the distance lay buried beneath towering snowdrifts.

Students trudged through the snow, their footsteps crunching with a crisp, rhythmic crack-crack underfoot.

This weekend was Hogsmeade Weekend, and most upper-year students were eager to take advantage of the rare chance to visit the village. Michael and the others had already been cheerful and bustling with excitement all morning, hastily preparing for their outing.

Though they could sneak off campus through the Vanishing Cabinet during regular days, most students still feared breaking school rules. And if they were spotted in the village as the only underage children around, shopkeepers would quickly recognize them as students from Hogwarts. Some would wink and let them be, but most would give them a cold, impatient nudge to leave and return to school.

Only during Hogsmeade Weekend did the village feel truly welcoming.

As Wade stepped out of the Great Hall after breakfast, he saw Michael and Padma—both wrapped in emerald scarves—walking hand in hand. Upon spotting him, they instinctively pulled apart.

“Hey, Wade!” Michael chirped, his voice unusually bright. “Looks like you’re all set for some outside time too!”

“Huh?” Anthony Goldstein emerged from behind Wade, peering curiously. “What outside time?”

“Ah—uh—” Michael flustered, realizing he’d slipped up. He laughed nervously. “Just… going for a walk! The snow scenery’s amazing today, right?”

Anthony narrowed his eyes. “You’re not planning to sneak out during Hogsmeade Weekend, are you? I’m warning you—several students have already been caught by Filch.”

“Who?” Michael chuckled. “Who’s that stupid?”

“Some first-years from Gryffindor,” Anthony said. “They actually thought if they just wore thick clothes, Filch wouldn’t spot them in the snow!”

“Gryffindor, huh… that explains it,” Michael said seriously. “But I really didn’t mean to break any rules. I just wanted to enjoy the view.”

“Of course, of course,” Anthony agreed. “These past few days of snow are mesmerizing.”

Suddenly, a voice—high-pitched and bouncy, as if every syllable were dancing—cut in.

Michael and Anthony reflexively tried to bolt, but someone already reached out and placed a hand firmly on their shoulders.

“Let me see… Michael and Anthony! My two favorite students!” Lockhart beamed, wrapping an arm around them both, then turning to Padma. “And Padma! Are you worried you won’t see me during Christmas?”

“Don’t worry! Don’t worry!” Lockhart assured them. “Even though I have to fly to France for an important event, I’ll be back in January to teach you all—personally, my dearest students!”

The three exchanged stiff, polite smiles.

“Good morning, Professor,” they said in unison.

“Mmm-hmm, good morning!” Lockhart waved vaguely, scanning the area. His eyes finally locked onto someone he wanted. “Over here, Creevey! Come take a photo!”

“Right away, Professor!” Colin Creevey, ever-present with his camera slung over his shoulder, trotted over eagerly.

Michael and Padma exchanged a look—clearly desperate to escape. Michael glanced at Wade for help, only to realize the boy had vanished.

“Sly dog,” Michael muttered under his breath. “He must’ve cast an Invisibility Charm on himself.”

Padma nodded absently, but smiled naturally when the camera flashed.

Click.

“I’ll send you the photos once they’re developed,” Colin promised, then added, “Professor, could I get a picture with Harry Potter too?”

“Now that’s exactly what I was thinking!” Lockhart grinned, releasing Michael and Anthony as if they’d been nothing more than stepping stones. His gaze snapped to Harry, who was standing among a group of students.

“Come on, Harry! You know you’d love a photo of me to look at during the holidays, wouldn’t you? Don’t be shy—boys like you always get special treatment from me!”

He grabbed Harry’s arm and yanked him into position beside him, flashing his trademark dazzling smile.

Harry stared at Michael and the others with wide, despairing eyes—What are you doing? Why did you pull me into this?

Michael and the others winced, guiltily avoiding his gaze.

Lockhart began instructing Harry on how to strike a “charming” pose. Harry didn’t care. Only Colin was enthusiastic, clicking away with glee.

Michael felt genuine sympathy for Harry. Then, with a quiet conscience, he subtly tugged Padma’s sleeve—Now’s our chance. Let’s go.

They slipped through the crowd, barely noticeable.

Suddenly, Michael froze.

Draco Malfoy stood with his arms crossed, silhouetted in the shadow of a nearby archway, watching the scene with cold, unblinking eyes.

Michael suddenly realized—Malfoy hadn’t been bothering Harry in ages. Not even Neville.

Since Crabbe and Goyle had stopped trailing him like statues, Malfoy’s presence had faded noticeably. It was almost as if he’d lost his power.

Michael shook his head. Not worth thinking about. He and Padma continued down the stairs.

Not long after, Crabbe and Goyle passed through the corridor. Crabbe clutched a few slices of cake, stuffing them into his mouth like a starving animal. Goyle, mimicking Malfoy’s tone, lectured him.

“You should be more clever, Gregory,” Goyle snapped. “It’s because you’re so thick that Tracy and the others mock us!”

Crabbe blinked slowly, nodding vacantly, completely lost in the conversation.

Then, a figure stepped into their path.

“Vincent. Gregory.” Malfoy’s voice was low, cold.

“Ah, Draco!” Crabbe stopped, grinning like an idiot. “Did you eat breakfast?”

Goyle yanked him back, glaring at Malfoy. “Don’t think we’ll ever follow you again, Draco. You and your father are just rich. I’m way better than you!”

Malfoy stared at the bumbling fool he once called a friend. A slow, cold laugh escaped him.

“Better? Are you sure?”

He dragged out the word, raising his wand.

Farther down the corridor, a seventh-year Slytherin leaned over the railing, smiling silently at the scene below.

...

The waves crashed against the black rocks, foam piling up along the cliff’s edge as the tide surged and receded.

The air carried the sharp, salty tang of the sea. On the sheer cliff face, a sudden crimson flash—then two figures appeared.

“Oh… this is it,” Dumbledore murmured, scanning the landscape. His long beard and hair fluttered wildly in the wind. He had to press a hand to his beard, where a golden ribbon still held the strands in place.

Wade raised a hand to keep his hood from flapping in the breeze, resisting the urge to look like a madman.

A second flash of Phoenix flame, and Remus Lupin and Sirius Black stepped into view.

“Good morning, Dumbledore. Wade.”

“Morning,” Dumbledore said, concern in his eyes. “Sirius Black—how are you feeling?”

“Much better!” Sirius declared, waving his wand and flexing his arm, now regaining some muscle. “Movement is the best medicine! But Remus here would rather lock me in St. Mungo’s.”

He grumbled, half-joking.

Remus ignored him, scanning the empty, windswept cliff. “Where are we?”

“Outskirts of London,” Wade replied. “There’s a small village nearby—but it’s nearly deserted.”

Sirius’s expression darkened. The sea wind carried memories of Azkaban.

He forced himself to breathe steadily, then asked, “So… we’re going to that village?”

“No,” Wade said, pointing to the rocks below. “We’re going down.”

“Down?” Sirius stood at the cliff’s edge, staring at the steep, slippery rock face and the dark, endless sea. “Apparition might work—hope the rocks aren’t too slick.”

Remus stepped forward. “Let me guide you, Wade.”

“No,” Wade said. “I’ll take you.”

He opened his bag and tapped it with his wand. Three old broomsticks shot out, zipping through the air toward them.

These brooms had been stored in the Room of Requirement. Zoe and the others had gifted the best one to Wade.

He’d prepared thoroughly for this journey—four flying brooms, just in case they needed to descend safely or climb down the treacherous rock face.

Sirius grabbed one instantly and mounted it, then shot off from the cliff edge.

Wade followed, then Remus and Dumbledore.

They soared like swift swallows, darting between crashing waves and jagged rocks.

Sunlight glinted off the wet stone, turning the cliffs into mirrors that reflected the sky, then swallowed the light in deep shadows.

Soon, Remus’s voice rang out.

“—Here!”

He shouted, his wand tip blazing red, pointing directly at the cliff face. The beam vanished into a narrow black crack.

The others flew toward it.

The crack was barely a meter wide from above—just a long, dark seam in the stone. Waves pounded the rough edges, and slimy seaweed clung to the walls. The light beam pierced inward, disappearing into the depths.

Wade hovered at the entrance. He didn’t know how Remus had found it so fast. He didn’t know how much effort Dumbledore had once poured into discovering this place—only to find it empty in the end.

The sea roared. No one spoke.

They lowered their brooms, ducked their heads, and slowly glided into the narrow fissure. Their shoulders and arms brushed against the clinging seaweed.

As they moved deeper, the crack widened—until they emerged into a vast, cavernous space.

“Lumos!” Sirius raised his wand, and a blinding light flooded the cave.

“Looks empty,” he muttered.

His voice echoed strangely—louder than expected—startling him.

Remus scanned the walls. Nothing. He turned to the others.

Dumbledore, however, looked ecstatic. He seemed to have forgotten everyone else, utterly absorbed in the cavern’s walls and ceiling. He circled slowly, fingers tracing the stone, whispering incantations in a strange, ancient tongue. He paused often, pressing his hand to specific spots.

Clearly, Dumbledore wasn’t blind to what was here.

But the real shock came from Wade.

The twelve-year-old student stood still, not wandering, but his eyes moved slowly along the walls, as if something invisible flickered in his vision. His gaze held a strange light.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look—both felt a mix of awe and unease.

They didn’t shout. Didn’t ask. Instead, they brightened their lights and remained silent, not wanting to disturb the moment.

After a long time, Dumbledore stopped.

He turned, his eyes fixed on Wade.

“Wade… what did you find?”

Wade stepped forward, placing his hand flat against the rock.

“This,” he said, “is the entrance.”

Dumbledore’s face lit up with wonder and delight. He nodded. “Yes… this is merely an antechamber. Someone used magic to hide the real entrance.”

“Who did this, Dumbledore?” Sirius asked, unable to hold back. “Who would hide something like this in such a remote place?”

“I have my suspicions,” Dumbledore said, pointing his wand at the stone. “But I don’t believe it’s necessary to reveal the answer now. Whatever we seek… it’s in there.”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end