Chapter 345
“This isn’t something you need to apologize for,” Wade said, patting Liam on the shoulder. “Professor Snape is terrifying.”
“But you’re not afraid,” Liam said, frowning with a mix of admiration and frustration. “You actually went to talk to him, tried to fix things… I can’t even answer a question in class without my hands shaking.”
“I was nervous too,” Wade shrugged. “I just made sure not to show it. And honestly? I only did it because Professor Snape’s been surprisingly lenient with me. In terms of courage, I’m not any braver than any of you.”
Liam chuckled. “Alright… even if you’re just trying to make me feel better…”
Wade sighed. “Liam…”
“Hmm?”
“Know this—there’s no need to say everything that comes to mind.”
Liam blinked. “I don’t usually talk much, though. I’m not like that.”
Wade and Theo exchanged a glance. In Liam’s bewildered expression, they both burst into quiet laughter.
It was true—outwardly, Liam was always the quietest of them. But around friends, he could be startlingly open and direct.
Night had fallen. As they spoke, Theo yawned again, his eyelids drooping like heavy shutters. He was clearly on the verge of sleep.
Wade decided it was time to leave. “It’s too late. If we go out now, we might run into Filch. Why don’t you just stay the night in our dormitory?” Theo suggested. “Ernie and the others won’t mind.”
Liam added, “Our house dorm is amazing—it’s actually dug into the ground, like a cave. We even have a Boston Fern growing there, cascading down like a green waterfall.”
Wade hesitated. He was genuinely curious. But after a moment’s pause, he shook his head.
Hufflepuffs were kind and easygoing, but fiercely protective of their territory. If they found an outsider in their common room tomorrow morning, it might cause trouble for Theo and Liam.
“Don’t worry,” Wade said. “I won’t get caught by Filch. And since you all claim no one from outside your house has ever set foot in this common room in over a thousand years… don’t mention I was here.”
He didn’t entirely believe their boast. Peter Pettigrew’s rat form, Rita Skeeter’s insect transformations—those were easy ways to slip in. Most students couldn’t even tell an Animagus from a disguise charm.
But since the Hufflepuffs took such pride in their isolation, Wade wasn’t about to be the first to break the record.
“Fine…” Theo sighed, resigned. He reached over and pulled two lemons from a nearby shelf, handing them to Wade. “Cats hate the smell of lemons. If you run into Mrs. Norris, you can use these to scare her off.”
Wade tucked them into his pocket. He brushed aside a vine that had crept down from the ceiling, brushing gently against his shoulder as if to help him tidy his hair, then stepped toward the barrel door.
Hufflepuff’s entrance was a narrow tunnel you had to crawl through. Wade couldn’t help but wonder—did Professor Sprout have to crawl too?
He gripped the edge of the wooden barrel and hoisted himself up, feeling like a mole poking its head out of a burrow. Just as he was about to pull himself free, he paused.
Something felt wrong.
He looked up—and in his mind, he heard Theo’s voice echo:
“Filch’s coming.”
“Malfoy told Filch…”
“We might run into him…”
“What if we meet Mrs. Norris?”
Theo, Theo—saying unlucky things too often really does make them happen!
Sure enough, down the corridor, Filch emerged, lantern in hand, the flame of his oil lamp flickering. Mrs. Norris’s eyes gleamed like twin bulbs, fixed unblinkingly on Wade.
Wade hung from the barrel, awkward and exposed. After a second’s hesitation, he decided to just get out.
“Meow~” Mrs. Norris gave a soft, plaintive cry, tail swaying, and took a step toward him.
“Come on, Mrs. Norris,” Filch said, turning away. “No one’s here. Let’s check somewhere else.”
Mrs. Norris glanced back at her master, then at Wade—her green eyes wide, as if silently questioning: “Isn’t that a giant-sized human?”
But Filch had already walked several meters down the hall. After a brief pause, Mrs. Norris trotted after him, her paws whispering against the stone.
Wade couldn’t help but laugh.
He pulled himself fully out of the tunnel, landed on the floor, brushed the dirt from his hands, and turned just in time to see the barrel lid swing shut behind him—spinning smoothly until it looked identical to the others.
No time to waste. He walked toward the corridor’s window, stepped outside, and suddenly transformed into a falcon. He slipped through the narrow frame, wings spreading as he soared into the night.
The falcon circled the lawn and the Black Lake, then climbed toward the towering castle.
Most of Hogwarts was shrouded in darkness. The only lights came from the Great Hall—its magic candles never dimming—and a few scattered windows: the Headmaster’s Office, a few professors’ chambers, the dormitories of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.
Hufflepuff and Slytherin common rooms, buried deep underground, remained invisible from the outside, even when lit.
Wade passed over Gryffindor Tower, then landed silently outside his own dorm window.
The window was open. The house-elf had already lit the oil lamp inside—guiding the way for the late returnee.
Wade thought about the entrance to his own house’s common room. It was a plain wooden panel at the end of the stairs, so unassuming that, without the door knocker, it would look like nothing more than a wall. Only those who could answer its riddle could enter.
Hufflepuff’s entrance, by contrast, was disguised as a perfect barrel—so realistic that it required the correct sequence of knocks to open.
Slytherin’s entrance was hidden in a stone wall, invisible unless you knew the password. The door only appeared when the right words were spoken.
Gryffindor’s entrance was the most obvious—its giant portrait of the Fat Lady, which, despite being so prominent, was easy to overlook among the countless other portraits in the castle. To the uninitiated, it was hard to imagine that behind it lay an entire hidden chamber.
The founders had gone to great lengths to conceal their entrances, as if enemies could break through the outer defenses at any moment and storm the school, burning and looting.
Even toward fellow students from other houses, they seemed to show little trust. Inter-house visits were rare—almost nonexistent.
It was clear they’d lived through times of great hardship and danger.
But Wade had no way of knowing whether these elaborate defenses had ever truly protected them in history.
Even Hogwarts: A History—a book that covered every corner of the school—skipped over the darker truths. It focused instead on amusing anecdotes: Peeves’s pranks, the endless battles of wits between headmasters, or events like the Triwizard Tournament.
The real struggles—wars, the treatment of house-elves, the deep rifts between wizards and Muggles—were barely mentioned, or simply ignored.
Wade shifted back to human form, perched on the window ledge, gazing out at the Forbidden Forest. Its shadow stretched toward the sky, a vast, silent expanse. Somewhere deep within, the growls of creatures echoed faintly.
Hagrid’s hut was dark too—no light at all.
On the Black Lake, the giant squid extended its long tentacles, clinging to the maze wall. From above, it looked like a monstrous neck rising from the water, curiously peering out.
Wade watched for a while, then stood, turned, and walked back inside.
Moments later, the lamp inside his dorm extinguished.
Far from Hogwarts, but not quite close enough to be a neighbor, a distant howl rose through the night.
It stirred the creatures at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, startled the birds near the village, and sent the squid plunging back into the lake, sending a ripple across the surface.
But the sound didn’t wake the sleeping students.
Then, suddenly, the window of the Headmaster’s Office burst open.
Albus Dumbledore stood there, wearing his pajamas, the night wind whipping his white beard into a frenzy.
(End of Chapter)
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