Chapter 272: There Must Be Light
Wade appeared as if materializing from thin air. He swept his gaze across the chamber, neither confirming nor denying Robert’s speculation, simply stating:
“The Serpent Monster has been defeated. The challenge is officially over! As for everyone’s performance during this event, we’ll compile feedback from the professors and announce the results at the Final Feast.”
“Wade Gray!” Dreian from Slytherin blurted out, astonished. “When did you even get here?”
“I was here from the start,” Wade replied flatly.
Dreian blinked. “You’re the one who blinded the Serpent Monster’s eyes? How did you manage that?”
Wade glanced at him. “I didn’t. That was Phoenix Fawks’ doing.”
At that moment, Fawks let out a resonant cry, announcing his presence. Then, with a flash of flame, he spiraled above the Chamber of Secrets before landing gracefully atop Wade’s head.
Wade shook his head slightly, and Fawks reluctantly shifted to his shoulder, puffing out his chest as the students stared up at him—wide-eyed with shock and admiration.
They were stunned, yes—but even more so by the fact that the Headmaster’s Phoenix was so close to Wade.
Possibility: Dumbledore must have been here all along.
A few students began glancing around, and then they spotted Professor McGonagall’s stern expression.
“It’s past curfew!” she snapped. “What are you all waiting for? Back to your Common Rooms!”
“Professor!” Fred called out boldly. “We just defeated the Serpent Monster! Can’t we celebrate a little?”
“Yeah!”
“Can we go back to the Great Hall for a midnight snack? I’m starving…”
The students erupted in clamor.
Looking at their eager faces, Professor McGonagall softened slightly. “You may have your midnight treats in your House… but no disturbing those already asleep.”
“Great!” The students cheered.
Even Professor McGonagall managed a small smile.
Though she knew—Gryffindor’s little lions would surely wake everyone up the moment they got back, exaggerating their achievements beyond recognition.
Or perhaps… some of the others weren’t even asleep. They were waiting just to hear the story.
Tonight, Hogwarts would be awake all night.
Under the urging of the headmasters, students began filing out one by one. Occasionally, they’d bend down as if tying their shoelaces—then quickly snatch a few scattered scales and stuff them into their robes.
They thought their actions were natural and stealthy. But when nearly everyone did it, the effect was impossible to miss.
Professor McGonagall turned away, pretending not to notice.
Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout nearly burst into laughter, barely holding it in to preserve their dignity.
Professor Snape waited until the last student had left the chamber—then spoke coldly:
“If anyone inside was poisoned, they’ll have to use their own brewed antidote to recover.”
A few faces turned green immediately—but even so, not a single scale was thrown away.
The chaotic footsteps and excited chatter echoed down the tunnel, fading into silence.
Only then did Dumbledore remove his Disillusionment Charm and step forward.
By now, Wade had already pulled out the Serpent Monster’s second venom fang. He rinsed it clean with fresh spring water, then reshaped a nearby stone into a perfectly sized stone box. With a smooth motion, he placed the fang inside.
The long box was flipped into his backpack—only to vanish completely, as if swallowed by a bottomless void.
Seeing Dumbledore emerge, Wade remarked, “I thought Professor Snape would’ve been the first to collect the Serpent Monster’s venom and blood.”
“He did consider it,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. “But first, he had to fulfill his duties as Head of Slytherin House. So he handed the task to me.”
Weird, Wade thought.
Weird that Snape left so effortlessly. I thought he’d have no interest in a rare potion ingredient like a thousand-year-old serpent. But he must’ve pulled Dumbledore in to do the dirty work for him.
Rare opportunities for Dumbledore to lend a hand were few and far between. Likely, Snape was terrified of missing this chance—afraid he’d be too slow to get it done.
So Wade stood silently, watching as Dumbledore began to process the colossal serpent.
The Headmaster rolled up his sleeves, raised his wand—
and the giant serpent lifted into the air as if weightless.
Wade’s eyes widened. In the depths of his pupils, golden light flickered like embers.
It was as if an invisible force—gentle yet precise—was dismantling the beast like a child assembling and disassembling blocks.
Scales, venom fangs, blood, pierced eyes, muscle, bone—each layer peeled away in perfect sequence, elegant as a master pianist performing a symphony.
Wade was overwhelmed. He held his breath, stunned.
Magic could be like this?
This is what magic truly is?
The stone carvings of the serpent on the pillars seemed to come alive, slithering across the floor to gather beneath the monster’s remains—transforming into vessels of every size.
Each disassembled piece flew like a bird toward its designated container—darting, weaving, perfectly ordered. The clattering sounds were crisp and melodic. The once-foul blood now shimmered with a mysterious, ethereal glow.
When the final container was sealed and floated into place, the giant serpent had vanished—no scale, no trace left behind.
Dumbledore lowered his wand. For the first time in a long while, he looked exhausted.
But as he turned, he couldn’t help but smile.
Wade—always so composed—now stared at him with eyes shining like lanterns, as if lit by a Lumos Charm.
Wade had always known Dumbledore was powerful.
But this… this was different from the “Fire God Descends” spell he’d once imagined he might one day master.
That kind of spell—fire, rage, force—was something he could someday achieve, given time and strength.
But what he’d just witnessed…
It wasn’t a spell. Not a gesture. Not even a flow of magic.
It was beyond explanation.
“Professor,” Wade said, truly humbled. “How did you do that?”
“Ah…” Dumbledore hesitated, clearly caught off guard. After a moment, he said:
“It’s not something I can teach directly, Wade. I can only say…
I thought it to be so, and it became so.”
He paused, then offered a simple truth:
“Magic is the manifestation of a wizard’s will.”
It was vague. But Wade understood.
Magic—purely subjective—shaped reality through the power of intention.
Just as…
God said: Let there be light.
And there was light.
(End of Chapter)
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