Chapter 224: Valentine's Day
Wade had grown accustomed to the irrational trust Hogwarts students placed in the Headmaster’s power. After being surrounded by it for so long, he couldn’t help but wonder:
Was it really because Fudge and the others dared to act so recklessly after Voldemort’s resurrection—was it because they knew Dumbledore would ultimately deal with him? That he’d be the one to clean up their mess, so they could freely grab whatever benefits they could?
The thought flashed through his mind, then vanished as he gave a self-deprecating chuckle.
In truth, the reason didn’t matter. The world was full of people—some even holding high positions—who were simply stupid and cruel, shortsighted and obsessed only with their own petty gains.
After saying goodbye to Filch, Wade placed a few potted plants on the shelf in the Umbrella Room. He turned an old, unused pen holder into a watering can and gently gave each plant a few drops of water.
Theo noticed and immediately liked the idea. He and Liam worked together to build a few small frames, so the plants could grow upright. They also carefully scooped out a bit of fermented Dragon dung—rich, nutrient-packed—and used it as fertilizer.
When Michael stepped through the door, the scent of blossoms immediately caught his attention. He paused, admiring the little garden for a moment, before finally asking, “Where’d the flowers come from?”
“Wade brought them,” Theo said, wiping sweat from his brow with his hand. The gesture left a thick streak of dirt across his face.
Michael smirked mischievously, pointing at Theo’s cheek. “Hey, you’ve got something dirty right there.”
“Really?” Theo asked, utterly unsuspecting, and wiped at the spot—only to smear it further, turning his face into a comically soiled mask.
Liam, watching from across the room, couldn’t hold back. He started shaking with silent laughter, shoulders heaving.
“Is it clean now?” Theo asked, still completely unaware.
“Mmm-hmm. All clean,” Michael said, nodding solemnly, then quickly stepped back to his seat, hiding his face behind a stack of books. A few stifled giggles escaped him before he turned to look at Wade.
“That girl?”
“Huh?” Wade looked up, confused.
“Don’t play dumb,” Michael said, nudging him with his elbow and winking. “Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day—and you got flowers!”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Wade shrugged. “It was a thank-you gift from Filch. I fixed his Cleaning Crab.”
“…Filch?” Michael paused, then suddenly said, “Wait—didn’t you used to make things that never broke easily?”
Wade just smiled quietly.
Michael understood.
The prickly, disliked caretaker was a hard man to win over—nobody liked him, and he was utterly indifferent to bribes, even gold. A pretty smile from a girl meant nothing to him, just like a Tree Guardian. He never showed leniency, and his only joy seemed to come from making students’ lives difficult.
But Wade had broken that pattern.
Not only had he helped Filch willingly—but Filch had asked him for help. That was far smarter than any student trying to curry favor with someone so stubborn.
Michael silently gave him a thumbs-up.
Wade thought: even if he admitted he’d genuinely wanted to help Filch, no one would believe him.
But Filch was a Muggle-born, just like Wade’s parents. And Wade knew—deeply—how hard it must be to survive in a magical world when you couldn’t even do magic yourself.
Filch was in his sixties or seventies, still doing menial labor with no end in sight. For wizards, a simple wave of the wand could solve everything. But for him, it took backbreaking effort. And children often made things worse on purpose.
So even without any reward, Wade had wanted to help.
Not out of obligation—but out of empathy.
…
The next day was Valentine’s Day.
But for most twelve-year-olds, it was just like any other.
They still had classes. The only difference was that lunchtime brought a wider variety of chocolates.
But as they entered the Great Hall, the sight that greeted them was overwhelming.
Hearts made of colorful paper snowflakes drifted down from the enchanted ceiling like real snow. The walls were covered in pink flowers. The long tables were nearly buried under bouquets. Candles along the walls were wrapped in mistletoe, their flames glowing a vivid, almost sickly pink. The entire room was flooded with such bright, garish color that it felt almost nauseating.
One girl with a sensitive nose sneezed uncontrollably and had to rush out of the hall.
Yet at the staff table, the one responsible for this spectacle seemed utterly oblivious. Dressed in a flamboyant pink robe, Lockhart clapped his hands with delight.
“My dearest colleagues, dear students, and my beloved fans—”
He winked dramatically at the girls. The response was a hushed chorus of squeals.
“Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you all love the surprise I’ve prepared for you!”
The Weasley Twins instantly made vomiting faces.
“—And that’s not all! I’ve also invited the kind, greeting-card-carrying little Cupids!”
With a flourish of his wand, the great doors swung open.
A line of grim-faced, winged dwarves marched in—golden wings strapped to their backs, their faces sour, their fingers plucking sad, haunting melodies from harps. They sang love songs in rough, raspy voices as they walked down the center aisle.
Almost everyone in the hall grimaced in discomfort.
“I suddenly don’t feel hungry,” Wade said, setting down his fork. He patted Michael on the shoulder and stood up. “I’m leaving.”
“Wait—me too,” Michael said, grabbing a sandwich on the go. He noticed Padma still staring at Professor Lockhart with dreamy eyes and suddenly felt a pang of annoyance. He grabbed her arm.
“Come on, Padma.”
She reluctantly rose from the table, still glancing back. “I mean… the dwarves’ songs are terrible, but Professor Lockhart really tried, right? The flowers are beautiful. This is the most romantic Valentine’s Day Hogwarts has ever had…”
Michael stared at her blankly. “Who are you? Did you drink Polyjuice Potion and turn into Hermione?”
Padma burst into laughter. “Oh my god, Michael—you look adorable when you’re jealous!”
“I’m not jealous!” Michael insisted, face stubbornly neutral. “I’m just stating my opinion.”
“Fine, fine. Sorry. It’s just… today feels so perfect for pink.”
She grinned, slipping her arm through his. As their bodies brushed, the irritation in Michael’s chest vanished instantly.
Wade rolled his eyes silently and stepped back, putting a little more distance between himself and the two.
As they exited through the doors, they could still hear Lockhart’s voice echoing behind them:
“They’ll be wandering the halls all day, delivering your Valentine’s cards! …Why don’t you ask Professor Snape how to brew a love potion? Or Professor Flitwick how to cast a spell that makes someone fall under your spell? That sly old dog!”
(End of Chapter)
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