Chapter 392: Reversing Time
"This time, let me protect her. I need to Depart."
"Alright."
Magic Puppet’s voice was utterly innocent—like that of two children, free of sorrow or anger, speaking in a calm, obedient tone that eased even Wade’s tension.
This place was too dark. Too suffocating. Even after meticulous cleaning, the stench of blood lingered everywhere, inevitably conjuring images of the children’s terrible fates.
After leaving the ward, Wade hadn’t run far when he saw a massive hole torn in the floor ahead.
"Boom—"
Outside, a building collapsed with a thunderous crash. A ghostly, silent shadow drifted in the air for a moment—like a specter—before vanishing without a trace.
Wade gritted his teeth, pulled out his broomstick, mounted it, and kicked off the ground, soaring into the sky and slicing through the window with a swift motion.
He needed to find Dumbledore—fast.
The collapsing car… the fallen buildings… soldiers screaming as they were sucked into the silent shadow…
"Help!—"
A soldier, previously hidden somewhere, suddenly burst out from cover, frantically running, arms flailing toward Wade in desperate appeal.
Wade ignored him, flying straight over.
Black mist swallowed the man whole.
Moments later, a boot flew out, striking the marble floor with a sharp clack.
The dark mass—once the size of a bull—had swollen dozens of times over. Thick black smoke poured from its base, streaked with fleeting flashes of red light.
Buildings crumbled. Debris turned into mist, flying like bullets toward the screaming refugees.
Suddenly, a surge of force tore through the fog—parting it like a curtain. In the center, a vacuum-like space appeared.
Wade’s eyes lit up.
There—finally—he saw Dumbledore.
The old wizard had stopped fighting the island’s defenders. The soldiers were overwhelmed—some firing guns wildly at the mist, others abandoning their weapons and fleeing in panic.
Dumbledore held his wand, frowning at the wanton destruction wrought by the Silent Shadow. He was, perhaps, the only person in the world who truly understood this creature and had the most experience battling it.
Even so, he looked uneasy.
The Silent Shadow was a unique and terrifying entity. Even if the mist was shattered, as long as a fragment remained, it could regenerate.
Only when the host—the Silent One—died could the shadow be truly extinguished.
Alternatively, it could be severed from its host and contained within a magical energy field.
But that was nearly impossible. Only Newt Scamander had achieved it once, by sheer luck.
Dumbledore was still weighing his options when he heard the wind.
Wade descended from above on his broomstick, landing beside him.
"Professor!"
"Wade, are you injured?" Dumbledore asked, concern in his voice.
"Huh?" Wade paused, then touched his chest. He hadn’t noticed it before—but his clothes were splattered with blood.
It was from Mabel tearing apart that man earlier. The blood had sprayed across him.
"It’s not mine," Wade said quickly. "It’s Mabel’s… She’s the girl I found in the dungeon—the host of the Silent Shadow."
He explained everything in a rush: rescuing her from the dungeon, reaching the lab, the island’s dark trade, Mabel’s strange condition, and the little girl he’d seen after they parted.
He recounted his entire ordeal in under two minutes.
"Whoever saved that girl—was probably me," he concluded. "I can feel magic in her. But to save her… I think I’ll need your help."
The Time-Turner could rewind time—but after reversing, Wade couldn’t instantly teleport back to where he’d been. He’d still be on the island.
And at that time, he and Dumbledore hadn’t even landed yet. The island was brimming with soldiers and under a strong magnetic field that repelled wizards.
Alone, Wade would be overwhelmed.
But with Dumbledore’s presence? No problem.
Yet after listening, Dumbledore shook his head.
"I’m sorry, Wade. I cannot use the Time-Turner with you."
He spoke gently. "To prevent abuse, the Ministry of Magic placed strict magical restrictions on the Time-Turners they loaned us—including age limits."
"Adults cannot use your Time-Turner. That includes me."
Wade felt a pang of disappointment—but not entirely unexpected.
He gripped the Time-Turner tighter and asked, "What should I do, sir?"
"You must return to Hogwarts, obtain the potion needed to save that girl, then come back here. So you’ll need a Portkey."
Dumbledore reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden key.
"Doorstos!" he murmured.
The key trembled, vibrating as if trying to escape his grip, glowing with an eerie blue light—then slowly settled, returning to stillness.
He handed it to Wade.
"The Portkey activates in ten minutes. Once you return to Hogwarts, you’ll have twenty minutes to prepare. Then it will bring you back to this island."
"Saving the girl by reuniting her with her bond to the Silent Shadow is a good idea. Once the Silent One regains peace, the shadow will calm."
"But if you fail… don’t despair. There are things we simply cannot change."
"One more thing—after reversing time, you must not alter anything that has already happened. What you do can only shape the reality you’ve already noticed before the reversal."
Wade took the key, nodding firmly.
Dumbledore waved his wand, silently removing the bloodstains and dust from Wade’s clothes.
"Good luck, Wade."
"I’ll be back soon, sir."
Wade mounted his broomstick again and shot upward into the sky.
The island’s defenses, already shattered by Dumbledore and the Silent Shadow, were now completely broken. That was why Wade could fly freely now.
Below, the once-beautiful white building was reduced to ruins. A helicopter lay crumpled on the ground, split in two, its fuselage engulfed in flames.
The island’s fragile ecosystem must have been devastated. Whether it could ever recover was uncertain.
The dungeon, being remote, was still untouched.
Wade steered his broom toward the cliffside—where a jagged rock jutted out over the sea, sheltered beneath a rocky overhang, hidden from cameras and surveillance.
He lowered the broomstick, landing on a relatively flat stone.
The gray-black rock was slick with seawater, moss-covered and slippery, smelling sharply of salt and brine.
Wade steadied himself, checked the time, then suppressed his broomstick and pulled out the Time-Turner.
He wound it back just once.
He didn’t need to go back far. Earlier, when he and Dumbledore were still searching for the island, its defenses were at peak strength—along with the unpredictable magnetic fields that made wizard travel nearly impossible.
The familiar kaleidoscopic swirl passed in an instant.
Wade blinked.
The cliff was the same. The stone still slippery. Light had shifted slightly.
Most importantly—someone else was standing before him.
A soldier, hiding in this dangerous spot, was quietly smoking a cigarette, dazed and high on white drugs, smiling foolishly at the sky.
Even in that state, he sensed Wade’s presence.
The soldier stared, stunned.
Then, as if doubting his own eyes, he grinned again.
"Hah… no hot babe appeared? Oh well… this’ll do."
He wobbled to his feet, took two steps—then slipped.
He fell straight into the dark sea with a heavy splash.
Wade glanced at the water, then gripped the key.
Suddenly, a sharp tug pulled at his navel.
He was yanked upward, spinning wildly—lost in space, hurtling forward without sense of up or down.
Thud.
He hit the ground.
He pushed himself up, hands on the soil, and stood.
"Whoosh—"
Torrential rain slammed into him, drenching him instantly.
A few tree guardians—small, leaf-capped creatures—jumped in alarm, scrambling up into the branches, peering down cautiously.
Thunder rolled across the sky. Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the world—then darkness swallowed it again.
Wade wiped rain from his face, cast a spell to repel the downpour, and looked around.
Dumbledore had brought him to the edge of the maze.
Now, it was like a magical amusement park—laughter and screams echoed from behind hedges.
Wade realized—because of the gap in magical power between him and ordinary students, he hadn’t entered the maze in ages.
But today, it was unnervingly quiet.
Meanwhile, the Quidditch pitch was roaring with noise.
Wade suddenly realized—Gryffindor versus Slytherin hadn’t ended yet.
The weather must’ve been the reason. With poor visibility, neither Seeker could spot the Golden Snitch. The match had dragged on since morning.
He had only twenty minutes.
Without hesitation, Wade mounted his broomstick and flew straight through the window into the Infirmary.
Madam Pomfrey, treating a student with a cold, nearly dropped her potion in shock.
"Wade Gray? You’re supposed to come in through the door…"
She scolded, but her voice cut off the moment she saw his expression.
She quickly pulled the curtain aside and hurried toward him.
"What’s happened, child?"
"Madam Pomfrey," Wade said, "if someone’s heart and kidneys were removed, they lost massive blood, and then—within a short time—the organs were returned… how could you save them?"
"I need a potion that can heal such injuries."
Madam Pomfrey didn’t snap. Instead, she studied his eyes closely.
"Where’s the patient?"
"In the future," Wade said. "This situation hasn’t happened yet."
"You’re not joking, are you?" she frowned. "You’re serious?"
"I’m deadly serious."
He showed her the golden key.
"I’m acting on Dumbledore’s instruction."
Her expression shifted.
"That kind of wound… no potion alone can fix it. You need me."
She tore off her apron, tossed it aside, and waved her wand.
The medicine cabinets on the wall, silver tools, jars, and vials all floated into the air, clattering into place—then compacted into a small, sleek briefcase.
The student on the bed had just drunk a potion. Smoke curled from his head.
Curious, the boy pulled back the curtain and looked out.
"By the way, Severus has a few rare blood-replenishing potions—brewed from Serpent Monster blood. He’s hoarded them for years. Now’s the time to use them."
Madam Pomfrey waved her wand again, and a shining silver object shot through the window.
"Done. I’ve sent word. When Severus arrives with the potion, we leave."
Wade stared, stunned by her swift, efficient actions.
"Did Dumbledore give any other instructions?"
Wade shook his head.
"No."
"When do we leave?"
"About thirteen minutes."
"What’s going on?"
Wade hesitated. Then he remembered—Dumbledore hadn’t mentioned secrecy. And with so many children already harmed, hiding the truth was impossible.
He quickly summarized what he’d seen.
He didn’t describe every gruesome detail—just the word organ trade.
That was enough.
Madam Pomfrey’s face turned pale.
"Evil, despicable scum! How dare they… how dare they do this to children!"
Her voice trembled. Her nostrils flared. Her eyes seemed to burn with fury—so much so that even Snape, arriving in the rain, flinched.
He’d been about to refuse—then reconsidered.
"Poppy… I don’t have many of those potions myself. I’ll give you one. Maybe two… Honestly, using such rare potions on these troublemaking young ones? It’s wasteful. They don’t deserve it…"
His voice trailed off.
Then he noticed Wade standing there.
"What happened?" he asked.
(End of Chapter)
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