Chapter 393: Return to the Island
—What happened?
Hearing the question, Wade felt the same urge to ask: What’s on my face?
Why did everyone who saw him react like this?
Instinctively, he touched his face again. No wounds. No bloodstains.
He glanced down. His clothing was intact—just slightly wrinkled from the rain, otherwise perfectly normal. As usual.
“Let’s talk about this later,” Wade hadn’t even begun to explain when Madam Pomfrey spoke, her voice cold with suppressed fury. “I’ve already sent Patronus messages to the other Heads.”
She paced the room, trying to burn off the anger coiled in her chest.
She’d completely forgotten there was still a patient here.
Wade turned his head and caught a glimpse of a small face poking out from behind the bed curtain—like a hamster peeking out from its burrow.
It was Astoria, Daphne’s younger sister.
Wade vaguely remembered her future: she’d eventually marry Draco Malfoy.
Their eyes met. The girl flinched, hastily raising one finger and winking frantically, silently begging him not to expose her.
Wade turned away, pretending he hadn’t seen.
From this distance, it was unlikely the girl could hear much—even if she did, knowing the dangers of this world might be a good lesson in caution.
While waiting for the others to arrive, Professor Snape had already mentally reviewed every mischievous student in Slytherin.
Seeing Madam Pomfrey and Wade, and thinking of the precious potions he’d soon be losing to the vault, Snape immediately thought of Draco Malfoy’s previous attack.
Hmm. Malfoy was still up in the sky, chasing the Golden Snitch with Potter. Thank Merlin, it wasn’t them this time.
Then who else? Flint, Wollington, Monte—none of them were around. All were still on the Quidditch pitch.
Marnelli was on the stands, Oswald beside him… was Trey even here? Crabbe had been acting up lately, but he wouldn’t dare—
Snape couldn’t make sense of it.
The Head of Slytherin silently stepped beside Wade, arms folded, robes flaring slightly as he leaned just slightly toward him—without even looking.
Wade: “…You’re afraid of Madam Pomfrey. Do I not fear her?”
After a silence, he covered his mouth and whispered, “It’s not Slytherin. It’s connected to the missing minor wizards…”
Snape’s eyes flickered with interest—then darkened again at the sight of Madam Pomfrey’s expression.
Moments later, Professor McGonagall, Professor Fleeve, and Professor Sprout arrived, faces full of confusion.
“Poppy, the match isn’t over yet. What’s so urgent?” Professor McGonagall asked.
A lifelong Quidditch fan, she’d been deeply invested in the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin game. She wouldn’t have left the pitch unless it was truly critical.
Now, the four Heads all turned to Madam Pomfrey.
She looked at Wade and nodded.
“Well,” Wade sighed, “I’ll explain again—briefly.”
He repeated the story with crisp efficiency. Time was pressing.
When he finished, the professors’ anger was no less than Madam Pomfrey’s.
“I’m going with you,” Professor Snape said coldly. “I’d like to see just how bold these Muggles are, daring to use wizards as lab specimens.”
“Don’t forget,” said Professor Fleeve with a weary sigh, drawing his wand, “most of the victims were Muggles themselves.”
“I’m coming too,” Professor Sprout said, her voice thick with grief and fury. She cut off Professor McGonagall before she could speak. “Oh, Minerva, don’t argue—I know you have to stay. Someone needs to remain behind.”
Professor McGonagall, as Deputy Head, bore a heavier burden. Reluctantly, she nodded. “I’ll send letters to the Ministry and Rufus Scrimgeour immediately. They may need to contact the Muggle government to help relocate the children.”
She was level-headed and fair. She understood that even if some Muggles committed unspeakable crimes, that didn’t mean every Muggle deserved blame.
Then, with a flick of her wand, four well-maintained broomsticks shot through the narrow window and into the room.
“These are my personal brooms,” she said, handing them out. “Stable, fast—use them.”
The others summoned their own gear using Accio charms. Except for Professor Snape, who carried a small box. The rest all had serpent-skin pouches.
Clearly, Hogwarts professors each had a magical, bottomless pocket—though they rarely showed them off, to set an example for students.
Wade hesitated.
All students who took every elective received a Time-Turner—something even professors likely knew.
He wasn’t sure about Madam Pomfrey, but her earlier reaction suggested she might be aware.
Turning away from the hospital bed, he pulled the Time-Turner from his clothes, shook it once, and asked softly, “Professors… Madam Pomfrey… you all know this, right?”
“Of course, child,” answered Professor Fleeve.
Wade exhaled. He whispered his reason for returning: “About thirty minutes from now, a child—broken and tormented—will give birth to a Silent Shadow, and it will lay waste to the island. That’s why I came back.”
“Silent Shadow…”
The word hung in the air. Even the furious faces grew solemn.
“Poor child…” murmured Professor Fleeve.
“You already know it’s happening,” said Professor Snape, voice like ice. “You can’t change it.”
“I know,” Wade said. “But I want to save another child—someone whose organs were taken. They’re close. If she survives, maybe the Silent One will find peace.”
“And I believe you’re right,” he added. “Professor, you all need to know what we’ll face once we land.”
Silence fell.
Each professor turned the thought over in their mind.
“Time’s up,” Wade said, setting a mental caution spell. He took out the Golden Key, cradling it in his palm. The professors formed a circle, each placing a finger on the key.
“If we disagree,” Professor McGonagall said firmly, “Severus leads.”
“Understood!”
Even those who disliked Snape nodded.
Slytherin and Gryffindor Heads exchanged a glance—silent, heavy with duty.
Professor Snape gave a small nod. His eyes, dark and unreadable, fixed on the key.
“Five… four… three…” Wade whispered.
“Two…”
He glanced sideways. Professor McGonagall had instinctively clasped her hands together, fingers crossed—a prayer.
“One!”
A strange, powerful pull seized Wade’s hand. His fingers stuck fast to the key.
In mid-flight, the world blurred. He bumped into Professor Fleeve, then Professor Snape.
He couldn’t see them—only streaks of light, dizzying and swirling.
Wade squeezed his eyes shut.
Suddenly, they crashed onto rocky ground. The salty tang of sea wind hit his face.
Professor Sprout, closest to the edge, nearly slipped off the stone. Professor Snape grabbed her arm just in time.
“Thank you, Severus,” she said.
“What’s that?” Madam Pomfrey pointed ahead.
Wade looked down—half-expecting a bloated, water-swollen face. But there was nothing.
Then he saw it: a pipe, thicker than a man’s thigh, embedded into the cliffside.
Hot water gushed from within, roaring into the sea, steam rising in thick clouds.
“Is this… cooling water?” Wade blinked. He waved his wand, checked the time again—then realized.
That’s why Dumbledore gave me twenty minutes.
They’d returned just as the intense magnetic field had ended.
Earlier, they’d have been caught in the field the moment they landed—possibly scattered across the ocean, far from the island.
Wade took a deep breath. He’d been careless. He’d mark this lesson well.
Then he quickly explained the island’s layout and the lab’s location to the professors.
“Good,” said Professor Sprout. “We’re ready. In case of emergency—”
“Adapt on the fly!” Professor Fleeve spun his wand in a dazzling arc. “First, get Madam Pomfrey and Wade to safety.”
“Don’t treat me like a helpless girl!” Madam Pomfrey snapped, wand in hand, briefcase slung over her shoulder—her stance fierce and unyielding. “I can protect myself!”
“Invisibility Charm first,” said Professor Snape. He began preparing one for Wade—when the boy tapped his wand to his head. His body vanished from the top down.
“Not bad,” muttered the Potion Master. “Looks like Dumbledore really did teach you something.”
There was a hint of sourness in his tone.
Wade wisely didn’t correct him. The Disillusionment Charm had actually been taught by Remus Lupin.
Once all were invisible, they mounted their brooms and soared into the sky.
As Wade rose, he glanced down instinctively.
Between the rocks, a pale hand was barely visible—stretched out, lifeless.
He looked away and flew to the front.
His broom was the best—and he had to lead.
Yet the four professors subtly kept him protected in the center.
“Don’t fly so fast, Wade,” Professor Sprout called from behind. “Don’t forget—there are enemies still on the island!”
Wade slowed slightly. The group zipped through the air above the island.
They couldn’t see each other—every broomstick was invisibly enchanted—but magic guided them toward one another.
“Boom… boom… boom…”
Giant machines roared into the sky, colliding, exploding. Fires ignited in scattered places.
Hundreds of armed soldiers poured from the building. Some carried long rifles, sprinting toward the upper floors.
“Sniper rifle!” Professor Fleeve shouted. “That weapon has a deadly range—Dumbledore himself could be hurt!”
“Pomona, Filius—deal with them!” Snape ordered.
They turned sharply, diving toward the ground.
Fleeve targeted the sniper. Professor Sprout flew lower, skimming just above the soldiers.
The men looked up, startled by the wind rushing past. Then, from above, a shower of glittering powder rained down—shimmering, beautiful.
Invisible Professor Sprout swept past, dropping another heavy sack of powder.
“Watch out—poisonous!”
A soldier yelled. Others scrambled for gas masks.
Some smart ones had already covered their faces—but fine particles still touched their skin.
One by one, the soldiers collapsed, unconscious and snoring.
Professor Sprout felt a pang of guilt—then turned her broom and flew to the next group.
Meanwhile, Fleeve had reached the soldier adjusting the sniper’s scope.
The black-clad man shivered. He twisted his neck—then casually placed the rifle on his shoulder, peering through the scope.
The lens was dark. The cover hadn’t been removed.
A flash of light—then silence.
Wade didn’t see what happened behind him.
They flew straight to the lab—still heavily guarded. The main door was locked tight, untouched by the chaos outside.
“Alohomora!” Snape cast a Confusion Charm on the guards. His wand pointed at the alloy door. Chains clicked inside, then—click—the door swung open.
He pushed. It didn’t budge.
“Huh?” Snape frowned, stepping back.
Then he realized—the door was opening outward.
Someone inside was pushing from the other side.
Snape stepped back two paces, alert.
A voice came from the widening gap:
“…I’ll take this one. Finish the other as soon as possible.”
A man in glasses casually dragged a light blue box out. He spoke casually to someone beside him.
“The third-floor experiments need to speed up. The orders say: be a bit rougher. Increase the dosage. Just don’t kill them.”
The masked man chuckled. “Perfect. Let’s start with Mabel. Logan’s been waiting.”
The glasses-wearer nodded. “Fine by me. I just want the results.”
Then—crack—a flash of light.
All three spells struck at once.
The two men inside collapsed, unconscious.
Wade grabbed the box. He opened it.
Cold, white mist spilled out. Inside, organs—still pale, still faintly trembling—lay preserved, alive.
In an instant, Wade’s skin crawled. He nearly dropped it.
“Go save the child,” said Professor Snape, calm as stone.
Wade steadied himself. He clutched the box and followed the two professors through the door.
Inside, the room was nearly empty. A conveyor belt moved slowly. A figure in a surgical suit stood by a water basin, back turned, rinsing something. Red water poured from the tap, cascading into the pool.
(End of Chapter)
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