Chapter 216: Age-Reducing Potion [Double Chapter]

Harry stood frozen, mouth agape, his eyes tracking the eagle as it circled in the air. For a long moment, his mind simply wouldn’t catch up.

—Remus’s Patronus was supposed to be a wolf… so why had it become an eagle?

Could a Patronus actually change?

Only when the eagle landed on Wade’s shoulder and dissolved into silver mist did the truth settle in.

“Outstanding! Wade, absolutely outstanding!” Remus Lupin clapped with genuine delight. “I’ve never seen someone succeed on their first try—no, I’ve never even heard of such a thing!”

Wade smiled faintly, glancing down at his wand, still savoring the lingering sensation of that moment. The Patronus Charm… it was truly magical.

The spell had pulled him back to that time—long ago—when joy had been so real it almost ached. Even now, the warmth of that emotion still curled gently in his chest.

Remus noticed the look on Harry’s face and quickly added, “Of course, Harry did remarkably well too. I saw the silver mist from your wand tip—quite exceptional.”

Harry suddenly felt a flush creep across his cheeks. Without thinking, he instinctively tucked his wand behind his back, then forced out, “That was incredible, Wade! Amazing!”

But the praise sounded stiff—like a clumsy actor reciting lines. He adjusted, trying again. “It’s… really cool!”

This time, his voice sounded more natural.

“A Patronus shaped like an eagle? That’s awesome, Wade! Seriously, amazing!”

Wade couldn’t hide his grin. Success with the Patronus was one thing, but more importantly, both the Patronus and Animagus forms reflected a wizard’s inner strength—often, they were nearly identical. So seeing his own Patronus take the form of an eagle eased a weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying.

Buoyed by his own success, Wade was eager to share what he’d learned.

“Other than summoning genuine happiness,” he said, “it’s not much different from any other spell. You just need confidence—absolute belief. Know what makes you happy. Know why you’re waving your wand. That’s the key.”

Encouraged, Harry lifted his wand once more.

He rummaged through his memories, searching for joy. Before he turned eleven, there had been nothing but pain and silence. After arriving at Hogwarts, he’d felt happy—but now, in the quiet moment, he realized how few truly light memories he actually had.

He thought of the first time he’d ridden a flying broomstick… the first time he’d caught the Golden Snitch… the moment he’d scored the winning points for Gryffindor.

“Expecto Patronum!”

Silver mist erupted from his wand tip, swirling into the shape of a giant creature—something vaguely equine. Harry gripped the wand tightly, his arms trembling with exhaustion.

“Belief!” Wade urged. “A Patronus isn’t a showpiece. It only protects what you truly care about. That belief—the heart of it—is your power source.”

They practiced in fits and starts until dusk. Though Harry’s Patronus hadn’t fully taken form, it was now clearly recognizable as a large, powerful horse—its four hooves and tail distinct and aware.

Remus Lupin praised him again and again. “Your father, James Potter, took a full week of practice to reach this level.”

That lifted Harry’s spirits. He made a silent vow: once back at school, he’d practice every day.

Meanwhile, Wade grew more familiar with his own Patronus. He even tried sending a message via Patronus to Remus—surprisingly, it worked.

But as soon as the distance grew, the spell faltered. The silver form dissolved mid-flight. It was clear: a Patronus couldn’t replace a telephone.

Still, that wasn’t its main purpose. The real power of a Patronus lay in defense—against dark magic, against Dementors, and even against creatures like Acromantulas. Though most wizards never used such advanced magic against them, the truth was: even those beasts feared the Patronus.

…

After dinner, Sirius Black returned.

“Phew,” he burst through the door, voice rough. “It’s getting worse. The Ministry official from America doesn’t care about the missing Muggle student at all.”

“Sirius Black!” Remus Lupin snapped, trying to stop him.

Sirius finally noticed the two young wizards at the table.

“Oh, Harry, Wade! How’s the Patronus Charm coming along?”

He waved a casual greeting.

“Not bad,” Harry replied quickly. “Sirius, were you investigating Kariel’s disappearance?”

“Of course!” Sirius, still dusty from travel, abandoned his plan to change clothes and pulled a chair close to the table. “You don’t know what you don’t know. Once I started digging, I realized this was bigger than we thought. Hogwarts loses maybe one or two Muggle-born students a year—but other countries? It’s staggering.”

“Sirius Black!” Remus cut in sharply. “The children don’t need to hear this.”

“Come on, Remus,” Sirius waved dismissively. “Wade and Harry aren’t ordinary kids. They’ve faced Voldemort. Hiding this won’t help them.”

Remus sighed, defeated. “You can tell them the basic facts—but don’t mention the parts Dumbledore told you to keep confidential.”

A flicker of unease crossed Sirius’s face. He’d clearly forgotten. But he nodded. “Right. I remember. All of it.”

Remus gave up on cleaning and sat down silently.

Under his steady gaze, Sirius paused, then shifted gears.

“Harry’s name was on Hogwarts’ roster from birth. But Wade…” He turned to the quiet boy beside him. “They say you never showed any signs of magic before receiving your acceptance letter. So how did Hogwarts know you were a wizard?”

“Yeah,” Harry chimed in. “You really didn’t do anything strange? Like suddenly growing hair or jumping onto the roof?”

Wade shook his head. “Nothing.”

Remus explained, “Some young wizards remain emotionally stable and magic-free until the moment they’re needed. If your life has never required magic to solve a problem, you’ll seem just like any other Muggle child.”

“But Hogwarts still picked you out of thousands,” Harry said. “How?”

Wade knew the answer, but he looked to Sirius, just like Harry.

Sirius grinned. “I only found out recently—Hogwarts has the Book of Admission and the Pen of Acceptance. They’re older than the castle itself.”

“The Pen tests every newborn with magical potential, writing their name in the Book. And the Book judges each child’s talent with absolute precision—ensuring no accidental Muggle-borns are admitted.”

“The Book and Pen have never made a mistake. They’ve recorded every magical child in Britain. So the number of missing wizards is actually very small.”

“But other magical schools… they use different methods.”

“Some rely on divination or dreams—prone to error and gaps.”

“Others use Ministry-style detection networks. If a sudden magical surge is detected, they respond fast. But kids like Wade? They slip through the cracks.”

“And some—like Durmstrang—only accept those born into wizarding families. Muggle-borns who show power? No one notices. No one explains magic to them.”

“Dumbledore suspects Durmstrang has the highest number of missing Muggle-born wizards. But Karkaroff—that man—says it’s got nothing to do with him. Not willing to help at all.”

Sirius’s voice grew heated. “I hope some Dark Wizard snatches him up. Even a rusty iron block would be more useful in that position than he is!”

“Igor Karkaroff is the headmaster of Durmstrang,” Remus clarified quietly. “If you ever meet him, be careful. He was once a Death Eater—but he betrayed the others to save himself. He’s not trustworthy. If Durmstrang’s in his hands, it’s doomed.”

Sirius continued, “Most of the missing children are like Kariel—some small magical display, then shortly after, a cloaked wizard appears. They charm the family, get them to move, and by the time they’re halfway there… they forget the child entirely.”

“The child vanishes. No one knows where.”

“Dumbledore contacted every magical school—Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, Ilvermorny, Castrobsche, Japan’s Magic Institute, Russia’s Kodostoriz… No one had extra students beyond their quotas. In fact, several schools reported fewer students than expected. Now, the Ministry and some schools are joining forces to find the ones responsible.”

Sirius drained his glass, then turned to the boys. “So… what do you make of it?”

Harry frowned. “Could they be taken by a government or some big company?” He recalled a TV show he’d seen. “Maybe someone inside is using minor wizards for cruel experiments.”

“Not a pleasant thought,” Sirius admitted. “But possible. These people might be embedded in Muggle governments—or bribing high-ranking officials.”

Wade added, “They must have a vast network to get intel on these kids. The most convenient source? The local government.”

At that time, the internet hadn’t advanced to today’s level. People didn’t carry cameras everywhere, filming odd or magical moments. So news of strange events still spread mostly through word of mouth.

“Likely,” Sirius said, nodding with approval. “But we still can’t prove who’s behind it. The Muggle population is too vast.”

He paused. “So the Aurors devised a plan…”

Thump! Thump!

Remus slammed his hand on the table.

Sirius snapped to attention. “Oops. Too much.”

“What plan?” Harry pressed.

“Alright, enough. Time to go to bed!” Sirius gruffly dismissed them. “Tomorrow’s class. Remember?”

Reluctantly, they climbed the stairs to the bedroom with the closet.

Back at Hogwarts, Harry kept muttering, “I still don’t know what the plan is…”

Then Wade spoke up. “An… bait?”

“What?” Harry looked up.

“Find a wizard who can pretend to be a young Muggle girl—act like she’s having a magical outburst, make some noise. Then see who shows up.”

Harry fell silent. “Who could even pretend to be an eleven-year-old girl?”

Wade smirked. “You forgot about the Age-Reducing Potion, didn’t you? And Polyjuice Potion. Magic always has a way.”

…

A group of wizards stood together, raising their glasses. They downed the strange, swirling liquid in one gulp.

“How does it feel?” the young wizard distributing the potions asked.

They couldn’t speak. Pain flashed across their faces. Their bodies began to shrink—like deflating balloons.

Plop.

Their eyes retracted into their heads. Then their noses, mouths, ears—all vanished. Limbs snapped inward, becoming short and plump. Their clothes slid off, then were held up like tents by their tiny hands.

A small hand reached out from the pile of clothing, patting the air. After fumbling, it finally found a wand—and pulled it back in.

Moments later, the wand poked out again, pointing at the clothes. With a flick, the fabric shrank, becoming unnoticeable.

In an instant, the ground was filled with children. Their faces showed a mix of disgust and innocence. One murmured, “So… we’re the bait now?”

“Looks like it,” said a girl with violet hair, bright-eyed and eager. She took a canister of potion and passed it around.

“Use it just before the effect wears off,” said the Auror who’d brewed it, his voice rough. “Repeating it will cause you to revert to embryo form.”

But the group just laughed, barely listening.

Then they scattered in all directions.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end