Chapter 329: The Disappeared Friends
In Arithmancy class, Professor Victor began by teaching the numbers from one to nine.
To her, each number possessed a distinct personality and color, corresponded to specific shapes, and could be used to decode any object, a person’s name, or even their fate. She guided the students through interpreting their own names—first converting letters into numbers, then applying arithmetic operations to derive three key figures: the Personality Number, revealing one’s character; the Soul Number, reflecting inner desires and fears; and the Social Number, tied to outward behavior.
All calculations involved two-digit operations—child’s play for Wade. After a few quick additions and subtractions, he arrived at his results:
> 【Driven by relentless imagination and insatiable curiosity, constantly balancing truth and fantasy, with extraordinary creativity.】
> 【Struggles to form close social relationships; dislikes complex social interactions, preferring to dwell within the world of thought...】
Wade stared at the results, silent for a long moment.
Professor Victor approached, glanced at his parchment, silently recalculated in her mind, then smiled faintly.
“The calculation is correct. However, the Social Number isn’t fixed throughout life. To interpret these numbers accurately, one must also consider current celestial alignments and timing.”
“Of course, that’s what we’ll learn later. But for now, you’ve done exceptionally well. I’m quite satisfied.”
She gave a small nod and moved on to examine Michael’s work.
Michael nervously handed over his parchment. Wade leaned in to take a look—only to feel a wave of disbelief.
His interpretation read:
> 【A determined and fearless warrior. Poor communication skills, solitary by nature, prone to suspicion. Will achieve great success in politics, becoming a domineering dictator.】
Not a single trait matched Michael.
Professor Victor did her own quick mental math, then burst into a soft laugh.
“A basic mistake, Mr. Conner,” she said, smiling. “The letter M corresponds to number 4, not 5.”
Michael glanced down, blushed, apologized, then bent over his desk and began recalculating with renewed focus.
For Wade, the first Arithmancy class felt like a simple number game—no calculation exceeded two digits. Yet even so, his classmates kept making errors. Professor Victor remained patient, offering corrections one by one, never once raising her voice at a foolish student.
When class ended, her assignment was equally straightforward: use Arithmancy to interpret the names of three acquaintances.
Michael perked up immediately. On the way back, he said, “Wade, lend me your results. Then I’ll check Hermione’s outcome, and I’ll only need to analyze one more person—cutting the work by two-thirds!”
“I don’t mind letting you copy,” Wade said. “But aren’t you worried about failing the exam?”
“No need to worry,” Michael replied. “I’ve memorized all the key points and symbolic meanings. I just hate doing the math over and over.”
He went to find Hermione, but after a few turns, he couldn’t spot her—despite the corridor being nearly empty.
“Strange,” he muttered. “Hermione’s so conspicuous. Where’d she go? Wade, have you seen her?”
He turned back—only to realize Wade was nowhere to be found.
He froze, scanning the hall. Only Theo Nott passed by, his face shadowed with gloom.
“Michael?”
Just as he stood there, dazed, a hand tapped his shoulder from behind.
He spun around—and there stood Wade.
He appeared to have just emerged from a side corridor, his robes carrying an odd, ancient scent, and he yawned lazily, as if just waking up.
“Standing there like a statue? Let’s go,” Wade said.
“Oh… right,” Michael replied, falling into step, his mind buzzing with unease and disbelief.
…
While Michael searched for Hermione, Wade, seeing no one watching, stepped back behind a statue to shield himself. Then, quietly, he turned his Time-Turner twice.
The familiar sensation of time folding over itself returned—vivid, dizzying, like a kaleidoscope of colors. He steadied himself and found himself alone in an empty corridor.
Morning light, cool and pale, streamed through the windows. The hall was silent, empty, and cold.
Wade didn’t linger. With a soft Accio, he summoned his broomstick, flew back to his dormitory, and collapsed onto his bed for a nap. When the clock neared nine, he mounted his broom again and flew straight to the North Tower.
He landed on the corridor floor, the broomstick thudding softly against the wall. A house-elf would retrieve it soon—no need to worry.
He brushed back wind-tousled hair and followed the sound of an enthusiastic voice.
“Onward, gentlemen and lady! Forward! Forward!”
Wade leaned his broom against the wall. Then he turned toward the stairs.
There, Harry and the others were climbing, breathless, nearly collapsing.
Beside them, in a portrait, a stout knight in armor rode a small, gray pony, waving dramatically.
“Farewell, my comrades! If you ever need a noble heart and iron muscles, don’t hesitate to call upon Sir Caradoc!”
Harry and the others were too exhausted to respond. They simply watched as the knight’s portrait faded from view.
Then they spotted Wade walking up the stairs.
“Morning, everyone!” Wade called cheerfully.
The Divination classroom was hidden. The ceiling’s hatch only opened when class time arrived, lowering a silver ladder. Only then did students climb up into the room.
Inside, the room was dim even in daylight—curtains drawn tight, crimson candles lit, their flames wrapped in red lampshades. The entire space glowed a sickly, oppressive red.
The room was packed with round tables and armchairs, resembling a poorly run old-fashioned tea house. Shelves along the walls held crystal balls, tea sets, and other divination tools.
No one knew what Professor Trelawney had tucked into the fireplace, but the air was thick with a cloying, sweet scent—so heavy it made your eyelids droop.
Yet some students found it intoxicating—the perfect atmosphere for mystery and the arcane.
Like Padma’s sister, who stood transfixed, gazing at a dusty, gray crystal ball on the wall with longing and envy.
(End of Chapter)
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