Chapter 394: Cloak
A crimson beam shot forth with a whoosh, striking the man full force and sending him flying backward, crashing hard into the wall.
It was Professor Snape—his intervention had been lightning-fast.
Wade arrived a split second too late. His spell detonated the water pool, splattering bloodied water across the floor.
A pale white object shot from the man’s hand, rolling across the ground.
“What is that?” Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, summoning the object mid-roll. She glanced at it—and recoiled in horror. Her spell slipped from her grip, and the object clattered to the floor.
“Merlin…” Madam Pomfrey clutched her chest, gasping, her voice barely a whisper. “They… they couldn’t have been so cruel.”
Wade looked down.
It was a Butterfly Bone.
He’d seen its image in the personal file room before—but this was the first time he’d seen the real thing.
Suddenly, Professor Snape spoke.
“Gray,” he said, “if you believe we can save that one… you’re overestimating magic’s power.”
Wade followed his gaze. On the conveyor belt, a familiar, faceless head had already been added—its body nowhere to be seen.
Even the most powerful magic couldn’t revive someone who was already dead—and dismembered.
“No,” Wade said quickly. “Not him. Come on—she’s this way!”
He led the two professors through the Picture Book Room and burst into the first operating theater—only to find two people already there.
A plump nurse was tidying surgical tools. Another man stood with a hose, scrubbing bloodstains from the floor.
They turned in surprise as the door flew open—then froze. Before they could speak, they were struck down by a spell.
In the second operating room, Wade finally found who they were searching for.
The little girl lay unconscious on the operating table, blood seeping from her body and pooling on the surface. Nurses and doctors stood around her—not trying to stop the bleeding—but carefully extracting a still-beating heart from her chest.
A sterile organ transport box, identical to the one Wade carried, sat ready beside them.
“Damn it!” Madam Pomfrey roared, her wand slashing through the air. A violent surge of magic erupted like an explosion.
The surgical staff were flung backward, slamming into the walls, writhing in pain—then struck again with stun spells.
Professor Snape swiftly extended his wand. A silent thread caught the beating heart mid-air, holding it steady above the girl’s chest.
Then he pulled out her kidney from the box.
“No one’s ever heard of such a thing!” Madam Pomfrey stammered, her voice trembling as she opened her own medical kit. “It’s… it’s worse than anything a devil would do…”
“She’s still alive, Poppy,” Snape said calmly. “Just focus on healing her. Leave the rest to me.”
He handed over every precious potion he had, then used a Hovering Charm to drag all the unconscious figures out through the door.
As they left, Snape turned to Wade.
“Come with me.”
“Yes, Professor,” Wade replied, following closely. He watched as the limp bodies floated through the air, crashing one after another—head first into the wall, then their bodies slamming into metal racks.
Silence settled in the room, broken only by the occasional flash of Madam Pomfrey’s magic.
Passing the first operating theater, Wade paused. The scattered footprints and bloodstains on the floor brought back the image of the boy who hadn’t been saved. He sighed.
With a flick of his wand, he cast Scourgify. The mess vanished instantly.
Then he dropped the box he’d carried all the way here—placing the organs, the boy’s head, and the Butterfly Bone beside it.
Snape found an empty room, knocked the remaining intruders unconscious, tied them up, and locked them inside. Then the two of them scoured the entire area, capturing more people—sleeping, loafing, writing reports—all subdued and secured.
“What happens to them?” Wade asked.
“Azkaban will have a spot waiting,” Snape replied. Seeing Wade’s hesitation, he added, “Believe me, that’s worse than death… and in that place, they wouldn’t survive long.”
Wade nodded. He saw that Snape had no intention of killing them—so he couldn’t argue.
He pulled the Eyeglass Man from the pile and asked, “Professor, do you have Veritaserum?”
Snape stared at him. “What do you plan to do?”
“Interrogate him, of course,” Wade said plainly. “They must have more accomplices. He looks like a high-ranking one—probably knows a lot.”
Snape’s expression darkened. He paused, then simply nodded. “Leave it to me. You stay here—protect Poppy and the girl.”
“Fine,” Wade said.
He didn’t trust the Ministry of Magic to handle the investigation—but Snape? That was different.
Wade’s willingness surprised Snape. He looked at him, hesitated, then said nothing. He simply took the man away.
Earlier, Snape had stepped in blood. Now, as he left, he left behind a trail of red footprints at the entrance.
Wade watched them.
A spark of memory struck.
The same bloodied footprints had been there when Mabel flew in. And before that—what had they seen?
A man, shot in the forehead, collapsing to the ground—his glasses still dangling from his face.
Some people, with or without glasses, looked like entirely different people.
That’s why Wade suddenly realized—this man, the Eyeglass Man, he’d seen him before.
And now, with the gunshot wound on his forehead, the truth settled in.
But Madam Pomfrey was still focused on Haley. Wade couldn’t leave them.
Only two magical puppets remained with the ability to act—those created before the time reversal. Mihal was strong, but his flame-made body couldn’t withstand a cold bullet.
It could burn through a man instantly—but it couldn’t change history that had already been observed.
That was the rule of time reversal.
If you altered something already witnessed, it wouldn’t cause immediate death or doom—but the Ministry of Magic had made it clear: it would create a parallel timeline, and the time-turner’s user would be left behind in the new one.
After a moment’s thought, Wade unclasped the Metallic Wire Cloak he’d worn the whole time. He whispered the spell he knew by heart. Light flared across the cloak.
In seconds, the cloak stood upright, wobbled forward, then glided a few feet before bouncing back to Wade.
Crafted from copper and silver, enchanted to shimmer like moonlight and sunlight woven into a single fabric, it looked like something from a fairy tale.
Wade cast a Disguise Charm. The cloak blended into the surroundings—its shape barely visible.
It suddenly bent its hood in a tight spiral, spinning like a puppy chasing its tail.
“Stop playing,” Wade said, tapping it with his wand. “You know what I need.”
The cloak straightened instantly, nodded once, and shot forward in a blur—flying after Snape’s retreating form.
Left behind, Wade frowned at the room. He raised his wand and restored everything to how it had looked before—exactly as he’d first seen it.
---
Snape didn’t know his student was worrying about his safety. But right now, he was thinking of Wade.
Sometimes, he saw in him the shadow of the Dark Lord—cold, calculating, more cynical than even Voldemort had been in his youth. Though Snape had never met the Dark Lord in his prime, he could feel what that kind of brilliance and ruthlessness must have looked like—through Wade.
But then he dismissed it. Illusion. Wade was still just a clever, earnest student.
He told himself: Youthful rage is natural. Especially at ten or eleven. They don’t understand life. Death means nothing to them.
Like him—once, he’d cursed James Potter and his friends every day, truly wishing they’d die in agony at his hands.
The hatred never truly faded.
When he joined the Death Eaters, watching his comrades murder—Snape felt nothing. Not excitement like Bellatrix. Not disgust either.
He’d only wanted the Dark Lord’s favor—power, status, dominance.
Until that day.
Until he saw the cold, lifeless body of the one he’d loved most.
The Potion Master forced his eyes shut, tearing himself from the memory.
He knew Wade from the original timeline would arrive soon. To avoid interference, Snape had already taken the Eyeglass Man far from the scene, into a quiet corner, before dropping Veritaserum into his mouth.
The man blinked open his eyes—dazed, vacant.
“Tell me,” Snape whispered. “What are you doing here? Who’s behind this?”
“We… we’re conducting gene-editing research,” the man droned. “Exploring the feasibility of granting humans magical genes. Unlocking the secret to wizard longevity…”
Snape froze. Gene-editing?
“What is gene-editing?” he asked.
“A revolutionary biological technology,” the man replied flatly. “Using a Gene-Editing Tool, we modify specific genetic sequences in an organism’s genome. Precisely and efficiently, we can insert or replace genetic material—altering inherited traits.”
“Most human and wizard DNA is identical. We believe ordinary people can’t use magic because their magical genes remain dormant.”
“If we can activate those genes… even an ordinary person could become a wizard. And even without the genes, we might recombine them in future generations…”
Snape sighed. He cut through the jargon. “Who ordered this?”
“The leader.”
“Who is the leader? What’s his name? Where can we find him?”
“I… don’t know. He never appears before us.”
“How do you receive orders?”
“Email.”
Snape took a deep breath. “Tell me everything you know. Who’s in charge of this island?”
“Ziq,” the man said.
“Tell me about Ziq.”
Before Snape could press further, he suddenly stiffened.
Something was coming—breaking through the air.
A cloaked figure, invisible.
The Disguise Charm wasn’t perfect in motion. Snape could see its outline clearly. He recognized it—this was the same cloak Wade had worn.
Snape hesitated—should he dodge? Or catch it?
Too late.
The cloak lunged forward, wrapping around him in an instant.
It moved with unnatural agility, wrapping around him like an embrace. The hood draped over his head, leaving only his legs exposed—unnervingly bare.
The Veritaserum-affected man remained unaffected. His eyelids fluttered.
“Ziq… Ziq is a high-ranking insider. Rumor is, he offended a powerful wizard in the Organization, so they sent him here… He doesn’t understand technology. He’s volatile. Only money makes him happy…”
Snape tried to pull the cloak off—but it wouldn’t budge. He tore the hood from his face, just in time to catch the next words.
“Organization’s wizard? You have wizards in your Organization?”
“Of course! They’re—”
Boom! Boom!
The man’s head exploded. He fell backward, crashing into the wall, his glasses slipping off, blood pouring from his nose.
A second bullet aimed at Snape’s forehead—blocked by the cloak’s hood.
Snape staggered back, spun his wand, and cast a full Disguise Charm on himself and the cloak—vanishing completely.
Only then did he realize what had happened.
The invisible wizard had slipped away—repositioned himself to the far corner of the wall.
Then, a group of armed soldiers emerged, escorting a man and a woman.
“The bastard was talking to someone!” the ponytailed man snarled. “Who did he pass the secret to?”
Two soldiers darted forward, checking the body. They fired into the air, shattering glass and lightbulbs.
“Report: no one here.”
“He must’ve escaped.”
The red-cloaked woman frowned. “Apton is a traitor?”
“Obviously! Didn’t you see him meeting someone?”
The man, Ziq, growled, shifting blame. “No wonder we failed—so many anti-wizard defenses, and still someone got in. There’s a mole who leaked our security plans—and brought in outside enemies!”
The red-cloaked woman—Veronica—nodded silently, her frown deepening. “If Apton’s here… then the organs they wanted…?”
“Never mind that!” Ziq snapped. “The Magnetic Field’s been destroyed. We need to escape. Tell the lab team to move—give me five minutes, no more!”
They rushed up the stairs. Someone inside spoke into a headset.
Snape watched, silent, until they were gone.
Then he floated upward, following them.
He’d learned flight from Voldemort—no broom needed. He could soar through the air like a shadow.
The corridor fell silent.
Moments later, a Firebolt streaked through the air—Wade and Mabel riding it, speeding past.
(End of Chapter)
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