Chapter 270: Slow Charm
Phoenix lifted its head, flapping its wings proudly, its chest puffed out—Wade couldn’t help but think it looked like a smug little child. It didn’t linger, merely perched briefly on Dumbledore’s shoulder before darting off again, its wings briefly billowing the professor’s cloak.
Boom—
A wall shattered with a thunderous crack. From within burst a monstrous serpent head, its flat skull caked in black-red blood, both eyes completely pecked out. Fawks shot forward in a blur, slicing past the serpent’s head, its sharp claws raking across the wound. Black blood spurted wildly.
The serpent was enraged, snapping and lunging after Fawks, its massive body terrifying to any human eye—yet utterly useless against the small, nimble phoenix.
Wade said, “Even without someone inside helping, Fawks could handle the serpent all on its own.”
“But we shouldn’t rob the children of their fun,” Dumbledore replied. “Besides, we can’t afford for it to collapse the tunnel.”
Indeed, debris was already falling from the ceiling nearby.
Wade didn’t know what spell the headmaster used, but he saw him wave his wand once. Instantly, the serpent’s head snapped sideways as if pulled by an invisible force. After a brief pause, its enormous body shot forward into the tunnel.
Wade and Dumbledore followed, keeping a safe distance behind. Both used silent magic to mask their footsteps, ensuring the serpent wouldn’t notice them.
Ahead lay a vast chamber—its ceiling higher than the castle’s Great Hall. Towering stone pillars stood around the room, carved with coiling serpents. At the far end rose a towering statue.
The place had been ravaged by the earlier fight between Fawks and the serpent. Debris littered the ground, and one of the statue’s arms had been knocked clean off.
Now, Fawks perched atop a fold in the statue’s robes, smugly watching the serpent slither through the pillars below.
Blind and wracked with pain, the giant creature alternated between silent stillness—listening intently for enemies—and sudden, violent outbursts, slamming into pillars and thrashing against the walls to ease the agony.
Suddenly, the serpent reared up, tilting its head slightly, adopting a posture that might have seemed graceful—almost loving—if not for the horror it embodied.
Wade and Dumbledore faintly heard footsteps echoing from deeper within the tunnel.
The serpent grew calm. It lowered its body, only its head remaining slightly raised, moving smoothly along the ground between the pillars as if it could still see. It was approaching the source of the sound.
Scales scraped against stone, whispering like dry leaves in the wind.
The serpent parted its jaws slightly, emitting a long, low sound—soft, almost like a human snore.
Hssss… haa…
The noise was drowned out by the chatter and footsteps of the students.
They’d just learned the serpent was dangerous—but their minds were still caught in the thrill of the challenge. Nervousness mixed with excitement.
“Merlin’s beard, that thing nearly gave me a heart attack!” someone whispered, trembling. “Let’s get out of here, please? That serpent’s gotta be over twenty feet long!”
“Don’t be a coward!” another voice snapped stubbornly. “If you’re scared, go ahead and leave. I can’t believe the school would make us face a challenge that could actually kill us!”
“Didn’t anyone even ask?” a third student said. “I just spoke to Professor—she said Dumbledore would make sure the serpent’s eyes couldn’t kill anyone!”
The words calmed them instantly.
“Ha! So it’s just a giant ball python, then?”
“If we beat one last time, we can do it again—this time with all of us working together!”
“Just remember—its fangs are still deadly. Don’t get bitten.”
Their voices grew louder, drawing closer to the entrance.
Though blind, the serpent was perfectly aware. It melted into the shadows, its jaws wide open, its long, needle-like fangs glistening.
The students walked in, unaware. Perhaps because they were so many, the first few showed little caution.
“Taking down a thousand-year-old serpent? This is the best graduation ceremony I’ve ever seen,” one boy joked, stepping into the chamber. His smile froze mid-laugh, his eyes widening in pure terror.
The serpent lunged forward, jaws gaping—wide enough to swallow him whole.
The boy froze, mind blank, body locked in place. He watched in horror as the massive mouth came down on him like a storm.
Time seemed to stretch—endlessly. He could even see the pinkish flesh inside the serpent’s maw, the flickering movement of its tongue.
Then—someone shoved him aside.
A wand flashed in the air.
“Bombarda!”
Boom—
Shrieks tore through the chamber. The battle had finally begun.
Wade, of course, didn’t join in.
To most, the serpent was terrifying. But if it couldn’t defeat Fawks, it certainly couldn’t handle Wade’s alchemical creation—Firebird Mihal.
He turned to Dumbledore. “What was that spell?”
Just as the serpent was about to swallow the student, Dumbledore had cast a silent spell, slowing the creature’s movements just enough to give someone a chance to react.
“Slow Charm,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Want to learn it?”
“Of course!” Wade replied instantly.
Dumbledore kept an eye on the students while teaching him the incantation. Wade analyzed it using his knowledge of Ancient Runes—familiar, almost nostalgic.
“—A deceleration charm?”
It was a spell they’d learned in their first year.
“Exactly,” Dumbledore chuckled. “But a strengthened version. I discovered, when I was sixteen or seventeen, that combining Ancient Runes with the deceleration charm creates something truly remarkable…”
“Looks useful,” Wade said.
“Not always,” Dumbledore cautioned. “You should know—against opponents who are close in power, or stronger than you, the effect diminishes significantly.”
“I understand,” Wade said, twirling his wand idly as he practiced the incantation under his breath.
Dumbledore watched him, still monitoring the students’ situation.
It wasn’t difficult—Professor McGonagall and others had already entered the Chamber of Secrets, helping protect the students and escorting the injured out.
Dumbledore watched as Wade’s wand movements went from hesitant, clumsy imitation to smooth, confident flow—within just minutes.
At first, the magic was stiff, unsure. But in the blink of an eye, it transformed—fluid, precise, breathtaking.
The serpent, just after knocking a student aside, suddenly stuttered mid-motion.
The student seized the chance—casting Split-into-Parts Spell.
The serpent didn’t split, of course. But a few scales flew off.
Dumbledore watched Wade with an expression of deep admiration—proud, amazed, yet tinged with something more complex.
For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.
(End of Chapter)
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