Chapter 273 – Aftermath
Though Dumbledore had not truly reached the divine level of Water—the ability to create matter ex nihilo—his will alone was enough to influence the transformation and motion of physical substances.
Before this moment, Wade had only known one type of person capable of such feats: a child caught in a magical outburst.
Like Harry, who, in the original timeline, had no wand and yet, driven purely by rage, had blown his Aunt Marge into a balloon. That was something Harry could never do under normal circumstances.
But magical outbursts were fleeting, random occurrences. As wizards matured mentally and their understanding of the world deepened, they lost the ability to alter reality through emotion and raw thought.
From then on, all wizards relied on fixed incantations and precise gestures, honing their spells through endless repetition.
That was the rule—every wizard, without exception.
Yet Dumbledore was the only exception Wade had ever witnessed.
Even now, with eyes closed, he could still see the scene: a moment of overwhelming awe, breathtaking and beautiful in its grandeur.
Dumbledore stood before him like a living beacon, his form radiating light. Golden threads and glowing rings filled the vast, empty darkness of the Chamber of Secrets—where once there had been only silence and shadow.
Debris and rubble floated gently in midair. The colossal serpent had been split apart, every drop of blood moving in obedience to that single will. The fabric of matter and magic wove together in intricate, shimmering patterns—like bridges of light threading through the air.
Wade had always believed he had traveled far along the path of magic, farther than any student at Hogwarts.
But now, he realized, he was no more than a newborn infant just taking its first steps.
Far ahead, beyond his reach, stood another towering silhouette.
…
The battle against the Millennium Serpent became the hottest topic at Hogwarts for weeks.
Every student who had taken part told the story again and again, from every angle, in every possible way—until even the most patient listener had grown weary.
Harry and Neville, the ones who had ended the fight, were hailed as heroes by most of the student body. The Gryffindors, led by the Weasley twins, composed a raucous anthem in their honor:
"Dark abyss, Serpent Monster roars.
Venom fangs flash bright, eyes now blind.
He—
Brave Longbottom, fearless,
Wielding sword, charging ahead.
He—
Star of Salvation, fallen in battle,
Leapt into the abyss, unstoppable..."
They sang it nonstop in the Common Room all night. The next morning, they marched through the castle with the two heroes on their shoulders, their voices echoing from the Gryffindor Tower all the way to the Great Hall.
Soon, even students from other Houses had learned the song.
For Neville, it was the first time he’d been noticed by his peers—not with mockery or scorn, but with admiration. At first, he was so flustered he nearly jumped off the tower.
But after a single morning of adjustment, he was singing along with the others, grinning from ear to ear.
News of the battle spread beyond Hogwarts.
Owls arrived in droves, carrying letters of protest—parents furious that the school’s professors had endangered their children.
But soon, the parents learned that no student had died. Even broken bones were healed instantly by Madam Pomfrey—no more painful than a paper cut.
The complaints faded.
Now, people began to wonder: Just how powerful are Hogwarts students?
Whispers grew, hinting that Dumbledore might be preparing for something greater.
But the Headmaster paid no attention to the outside noise.
He didn’t reseal the Chamber of Secrets. Instead, he left it open—so much so that even first-year wizards were allowed to visit.
The long, damp pipe still carried its stench of mildew and old blood. But after hundreds of students slid through it, the walls were cleaner than a crab’s freshly scrubbed floor.
The broken stone walls, fallen pillars, and cracked floor—still marked with holes and dried bloodstains—remained untouched.
But soon, the debris began to vanish. Not all at once, but gradually. Even the small animal bones scattered in the corridors disappeared bit by bit.
The serpent’s body had been stuffed into the professors’ private storage rooms.
Yet Dumbledore kept the shed snake skin—its glistening, iridescent scales still on display.
Every young wizard who entered the chamber stood frozen in awe, staring at it, imagining the ferocity and danger of the battle that had taken place.
Colin Creevey and Rolf Scamander became the most popular students in the school—because everyone wanted to take a photo with the snake skin. And they had cameras.
Half a day later, Wade’s camera was borrowed by Michael.
When Wade, accompanied by Padma and her sister, walked toward the Chamber, they happened to meet Professor Snape.
The group froze, breathless with fear.
But to their shock, Snape said nothing. He simply passed by, as if nothing had happened.
During this time, Snape had been in rare good spirits.
With most of the Millennium Serpent’s body in his possession, he was already planning how to use the materials—what potions he could brew, what rare ingredients he could extract.
He had no time to care about the latest antics of the school’s little giants.
And Moaning Myrtle—once a ghost who lived only in the bathroom, weeping endlessly—was now utterly delighted.
For the first time in her existence, she saw dozens of students walking through her domain.
She complained constantly about her home being turned into a tourist trap—but she couldn’t stop smiling as she trailed behind them, popping out from the walls or the snake skin to startle them.
She was fast becoming the second Peeves.
Not long after, photos of the snake skin appeared in The Daily Prophet, sparking another wave of public fascination.
Machionni seized the moment, launching a line of serpent-shaped magical puppet pets—sold out within hours.
Then came the Final Feast.
Before dinner, Dumbledore announced the house points awarded to students who had participated in the Chamber of Secrets challenge.
As expected, Gryffindor won the House Cup. The other houses were close behind—no major gap.
Even Slytherin had no real objection.
When the Great Hall erupted in cheers, a few students at the Serpent table even gave polite applause.
"Dark abyss, Serpent Monster roars.
Venom fangs flash bright, eyes now blind..."
The Gryffindors pounded the tables, singing at the top of their lungs. Dumbledore smiled, conducting them like a maestro. The Badger and Eagle tables joined in.
Crabbe: "Dark abyss, Serpent Monster roars..."
The boy sang without thinking.
Malfoy heard him.
He shot him a furious glare and snapped: "Shut up!"
Crabbe flinched and fell silent at once.
Though he had survived the ordeal, Crabbe was still in St. Mungo’s Hospital.
And now, he was afraid of Malfoy.
(End of Chapter)
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