Chapter 301: Wade: Fiendfyre
“They think that’s the person they kidnapped,” Wade said.
“That—actually?” Rita Skeeter pressed.
Wade smiled. “If the car door gets opened, remember to stay far away.”
His smile remained gentle, yet something in it sent a chill through Rita’s chest. She rubbed her arms, then deliberately shifted her gaze, feigning skepticism. “I don’t see anything special about these guys. They look just like ordinary people… You can’t possibly be fooling me, can you?”
“If I were lying, you could always fabricate rumors about me in the newspaper,” Wade replied, amused. “You could even report me to the Ministry of Magic as an illegal Animagus.”
On the way here, he’d transformed Rita into an insect while shifting himself into a falcon, allowing them both to return to the ship before it sailed.
Rita snorted. “I’m not registered either. Doesn’t stop me from ending up in Azkaban.”
“So we’re both holding each other’s secrets,” Wade said. “That’s the best kind of alliance. You won’t betray me—so I won’t toy with you.”
“Fine,” Rita exhaled deeply, then flashed a mischievous grin. “If I actually uncover a major incident, the Ministry’s faces would be priceless. Definitely worth writing another article! But…” She twirled the gemstone ring on her finger, glancing at Wade. “If I’m in a real danger situation, I’ll be escaping for my life first.”
“Of course. Your safety comes first,” Wade said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a piece of parchment. “This is the Book of Friends linked to me. It has tracking capabilities—you can contact me anytime.”
“Got it.” Rita took it, then asked, “If I’m in trouble, can you bring Dumbledore?”
“Depends on the situation,” Wade replied. He pulled out another paper bag, opened it, and revealed a silvery, shimmering object.
Rita inhaled sharply. “Invisibility Cloak!”
“Here,” Wade handed it to her. “Hide it well. I think you might need it.”
Being an insect was stealthy, but Rita still needed to eat, drink, use the Book of Friends, and occasionally revert to human form—whether to hide or perform magic. The cloak would make her far safer.
This wasn’t the original Deathly Hallow cloak left by Harry’s father. It was one Wade had bought last holiday from a secondhand miscellaneous goods shop. At the time, the cloak had lost its invisibility magic, but the material was mostly intact. While learning alchemy, Wade had spent time restoring it—now, the moment had come.
Rita accepted it with undisguised awe. “You’re actually giving this to me? This thing is incredibly rare—worth a fortune!”
“You’re overthinking it,” Wade said. “It’s just borrowed for now. But if you help me find their hideout, this cloak can be your reward.”
“Deal!” Rita’s eyes lit up with determination. Her thick fingers gripped the cloak tightly, clearly unwilling to return it.
Wade watched as Rita tucked the cloak and the Book of Friends away, then transformed into a tiny beetle and flew toward the top of the truck.
He cast an invisibility charm on himself and stood nearby, observing.
The beetle lingered on the roof for a moment, watching the two men inside snoring peacefully. But curiosity overwhelmed caution, and it began crawling toward the rear interior.
Wade had already repaired the hole he’d torn earlier, but the interior wasn’t fully sealed. The beetle scuttled around, eventually finding a narrow crack. To a human, it was barely more than a hairline fissure—too small for even a finger to slip through. But to the beetle, it was wide enough.
It pushed half its body through, glanced inside—and immediately recoiled in horror, rocketing back out. It slammed headfirst into a protrusion behind the front of the cab with a soft thud.
The bearded man in the driver’s seat jolted awake, blinking groggily. Then he suddenly sniffed the air.
“What’s that smell…? Bloody hell! Did you just wet yourself in the car?!”
He stared in disbelief, then kicked the sleeping freckled driver awake.
The car door slammed shut with a loud bang.
The freckled driver, still half-asleep, swung a punch without even opening his eyes.
The bearded man wasn’t about to back down. He snarled, baring his teeth, and lunged forward.
They exchanged wild punches and kicks in the cramped space, the entire cab shaking violently with each clash.
Amid the ship’s gentle rocking, the other fixed vehicles swayed slightly too. The truck, among them, wasn’t particularly conspicuous.
Wade listened for a while. Neither man questioned their sudden drowsiness or the lost memory. Their argument, initially about who had wet themselves, quickly devolved into a mindless brawl.
Rita, perched on the horn’s edge, watched with rapt fascination. If she’d had a pen, she’d have been scribbling furiously.
Wade slipped away quietly.
…
Back in London, dawn was breaking. A pale blue mist draped over the uneven rooftops, and a flock of pigeons soared above St. Paul’s Cathedral.
Wade found the small museum. The glass door was locked. The counter behind it was empty—no trace of the shy girl he’d seen before.
He gripped the handle and whispered, “A Pull, hole open!”
The lock clicked. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The elevator’s display remained dark.
The elevator was locked, requiring either a key or a password to restart. Wade had neither. He drew his spare wand and flicked it like a whip.
The iron gate groaned and creaked, twisting open with a loud, grinding screech, revealing a wide crack.
He descended into the elevator shaft, where he found the cable brutally severed. The elevator car lay below, a barrier meant to seal off the lower level—a defense line for the Seal Wizards.
Though most alchemists lacked advanced practical skills, given enough time, they’d eventually break through such a seal. But by then, everyone would be covered in golden powder, their minds foggy, their reactions sluggish—so focused on breaking the gate, they’d lose all sense of strategy.
Yet this building wasn’t originally designed as a prison. Unlike Hogwarts’ Chamber of Secrets, hidden deep beneath miles of earth, this one had been constructed with accessibility in mind. There was a staircase connecting the basement to the upper floors—only, it had been hidden by illusion during the incident.
Wade spent a moment locating the concealed stairs, then descended into the basement. There, he found another iron gate, locked.
He didn’t open it. Instead, he pointed his wand inside and whispered softly:
“Fiendfyre.”
(End of Chapter)
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