https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-396-Let-It-Be-As-If-I-Never-Came/13685406/
Chapter 395: Haley
The warning magic in the corridor had been moved. Wade knew—himself was about to arrive imminently.
He rushed into the operating room. “Madam Pomfrey, I’m almost there.”
Madam Pomfrey instantly understood. She glanced at the girl’s wounds and sighed regretfully. “Just a little too late.”
But her motion to pull back the window was decisive.
Wade glanced back. The girl’s wounds looked almost unchanged—yet in truth, they were now merely superficial.
“No,” he said. “This is perfect.”
They mounted their broomsticks and shot through the window in a tight formation, one behind the other.
Wade cast a Disguise Charm Preparation around the nearby observation point. Suddenly, a thunderous crash echoed above them—a large sheet of metal spun through the air and nearly flattened Wade as it plummeted.
Both of them froze in shock. They exchanged a glance and sharply turned their broomsticks upward.
On the rooftop, a freshly launched aircraft loomed in the sky. Below, those left behind were frantic—some pleading desperately, others screaming curses.
“I’m a vital researcher! If you don’t take me, Ziq, you’ll regret it when you get back—you’ll die!” a man shouted, his voice raw with desperation. He wore a chain of tiny bells that jingled incessantly, drawing Wade’s attention more than once.
The helicopter had already climbed to a considerable height, but its cabin door remained partially open, revealing several figures inside.
Amidst the deafening roar of the giant rotors, the man’s voice was little more than a high-pitched buzz—impossible to hear.
Yet the man with the ponytail sitting by the door caught the other’s face—twisted in fury and resentment. After a moment’s thought, he turned and whispered something to the person beside him.
Moments later, a dark gun barrel extended from the cabin door, aimed directly downward.
Wade yanked Madam Pomfrey hard, and they plunged sharply downward, ducking behind the side of the building.
“Dak-dak-dak-dak-dak!”
A rapid fusillade erupted—bullets tearing into the concrete, sending shards flying. The barrage lasted for ten seconds before ceasing.
Only when the rotors’ roar faded into the distance did they cautiously edge upward along the wall.
Such a high-frequency, high-impact weapon—no Shield Charm could guarantee protection, let alone how many shots it could withstand. Wade had no confidence at all.
They reached the rooftop. The people who had been gathered beneath the aircraft were mostly dead. A few survivors still breathed, but barely—dying slowly.
Even Madam Pomfrey, with her healer’s compassion, didn’t pause to help. She merely frowned at the receding helicopter.
Even the most isolated wizard knew of Muggle aircraft. They were faster than a flying broomstick—ten times faster. The massive, heavy steel machines rendered most spells ineffective. And at a distance, even the strongest spells lost their potency.
Only a wizard like Gellert Grindelwald, who could bring an entire city to its knees with magic, could hope to match such a vehicle. And even then, Madam Pomfrey couldn’t do it.
—Even if the helicopter was slower than others, catching up was nearly impossible.
Madam Pomfrey thought this. So did Ziq and Veronica, seated aboard the aircraft.
They understood wizards better than ordinary people ever could.
Now that the plane had taken off safely, Ziq finally exhaled.
He turned to Veronica, scanning the island below—where soldiers lay scattered like ants. “We got out just in time. The wizard who came… he was like some kind of monster. I don’t know what Apton dragged in this time.”
He lied to himself. He’d already decided—Apton was a traitor.
Veronica managed a weak smile. “Why didn’t you bring Dominika? You know his research was crucial. Leaving him behind won’t be easy to explain.”
“Need I say more?” Ziq tugged at his collar with a shrug. “There’s barely room. If we take him, we can’t carry the information. If we take the information, we can’t take him. We had to choose.”
“Oh…”
—Not enough space on the plane?
Veronica hesitated, then nodded slowly, glancing at the packed cabin.
Without sacrificing Dominika, the one left behind might have been her.
Around them, an empty seat sat untouched. But both ignored it instinctively.
It had been meant for Dominika. Now, it held an invisible man.
Snape sat beside it, expressionless. His cloak subtly lifted at one corner, trying to poke Veronica’s gemstone ring—only to be instantly smothered by Snape’s own hand.
Veronica saw nothing.
“…You’re right,” she said. “But this loss is severe. Even if Apton is to blame, you and I will still be punished.”
“Can’t help it,” Ziq grumbled, reaching for the intercom. “I’ll send a message. Worst case, I get sent to some remote island.”
Snape glanced sideways. He saw Ziq speaking into a phone—talking to someone named Ugo.
…
The helicopter climbed higher, farther away.
Madam Pomfrey placed a hand on Wade’s shoulder. “Stop staring. They won’t escape. The Ministry of Magic will find them.”
“Hmm…” Wade replied, still not looking away.
He remembered seeing a helicopter once—broken in two. Judging by location, it might be this one…
“BOOM!”
A violent explosion tore through the sky. The aircraft split in half, tearing apart mid-air, spinning and howling as it fell from great height.
Madam Pomfrey spun around, stunned.
At the same instant, a loud crack echoed beside them.
They reacted instantly—casting Shield Charms and Obstacle Spells—before seeing who had appeared.
It was Snape.
His body wobbled, then collapsed.
“Merlin’s beard, Severus! What happened?” Madam Pomfrey rushed to catch him.
Professor Snape’s upper body was intact. But both legs were mangled—raw, bleeding, bones exposed, and severely burned.
Madam Pomfrey sprang into emergency mode. Bottles of potion flew from her case.
“I was on that plane…” Snape gritted his teeth.
Madam Pomfrey’s hand trembled. A half-bottle spilled onto Snape’s leg. He flinched violently.
“You blew up the plane?” she gasped, panic rising.
“No,” Snape said through clenched teeth. “I was following the escapees. But when they reported in… the person on the phone said, ‘Goodbye.’ Then—boom.”
He paused, then glanced at Wade. With visible reluctance, he added: “Your cloak… is impressive.”
Had it not been for the cloak, the explosion would’ve overwhelmed him. He wouldn’t have had time to Apparate out.
Madam Pomfrey relaxed slightly.
She poured the rest of the potion onto his other leg. Snape’s face twitched in agony.
Then she forced another potion down his throat—this one for burns. As soon as she uncorked it, the pungent, unnatural stench hit them both.
Snape pinched his nose and drank, barely able to suppress a grimace. Wade couldn’t help but smirk.
Snape was the biggest supplier of potions in the infirmary. Ever since the Maze game became popular, the number of students visiting the infirmary doubled.
So he deliberately made the potions even more unpalatable—earning endless complaints. Now, the irony had come full circle.
“Wade,” Madam Pomfrey handed him a bottle. “The girl’s wound isn’t fully healed. I’d intended to return later, but now…”
“I understand,” Wade said, taking the potion. “I’ll finish it.”
The cuts on Snape’s legs were healing rapidly. But the burns were far more complex.
Wade turned to leave—then paused.
“Wait,” Snape called. “Take the cloak.”
The metal cloak curled gently from Snape’s body, drifting down like a ghost, spinning once in the air with a showy flourish.
It bore scorch marks, thick black ash, and dried blood stains at the edges.
Wade pointed his wand. The cloak shimmered, cleaned, restored.
He pulled it on, mounted his broomstick, and flew back the way he came.
He heard his own voice.
Wade waited patiently outside the window, only entering after he saw himself depart from the room.
The two magical puppets by the pillow blinked in confusion—looking from him, to the entrance, utterly bewildered.
“Shh,” Wade whispered, raising a finger. He signaled them not to speak.
He approached the bed.
He’d previously taken a healing potion—modified for Muggle physiology. But given the girl’s fragile state, Wade had reduced the dosage.
So Haley’s healing was slow. Blood still seeped through the bandages.
Wade sighed. “Healing this slow… my potion’s nowhere near Professor Snape’s level.”
Same potion. Same use on Muggles. But Snape could maintain rapid healing—without harming the body.
Wade poured a fresh batch.
Instantly, the wound sealed at a visible pace.
He whispered the healing incantation, wand gliding gently above her body, accelerating recovery.
When the last scar faded, her skin was smooth and whole.
With a flick of his wand, the blanket flew up and covered her. The operating room cleaned itself—air thick with rust and blood was swept away by a tiny whirlwind, drawn out through the window.
Now, the Silent Shadow raged unchecked. The entire building trembled, as if on the verge of collapse.
Wade didn’t flee. He wouldn’t face the Silent Shadow with magic that wasn’t yet advanced. Instead, he waited beside the operating table—watching for Haley to wake.
Could she calm Mabel?
Wade didn’t know. He doubted even Dumbledore believed it possible.
But Mabel had persisted in searching for Haley—even after she’d likely died. That loyalty meant something extraordinary.
Even if it failed… it didn’t matter.
They’d saved a life.
And the arrival of the Hogwarts professors would ease Dumbledore’s burden. Far better than fighting alone.
Suddenly, a strange, eerie magic stirred.
Wade bolted to the window.
On a distant street, space warped—like a vortex opening in the air.
Then—thud—four or five wizards appeared, clutching a broken metal barrel.
They barely landed before being stunned by the swirling black wind.
Reacting fast, wizards pulled out wands, firing beams of light at the Silent Shadow.
More wizards followed—some holding broken boots, others wide-brimmed hats, or a potted plant with a missing edge. They appeared from nowhere, as if summoned.
The black smoke swelled—filling entire streets, then shrinking to the size of a wild dog slipping into a hallway. It vanished and reappeared in an instant—moving like lightning, avoiding direct combat, only fleeing.
But as it fled, it destroyed buildings. Soldiers and researchers lay torn apart, mercilessly shredded.
Spells split the street. Black smoke burst into fragments—but as long as the core remained, the Shadow endured. It twisted into a monstrous form, attacking everything Mabel hated.
Among the fighters, Wade recognized Minister of Magic Fudge—someone he’d assumed couldn’t appear.
Whether Fudge had expected this scene or not, Wade only saw him shouting at Dumbledore—then drawing his wand and joining the fray.
Dozens of wizards worked together, channeling thin, blue-white beams from their wands—bit by bit consuming the Shadow from all sides, forcing it to congregate.
Only by controlling the Shadow, finding its core, could they destroy it.
The smoke occasionally took on the shape of a monstrous beast, screaming in pain, veins of red light pulsing through it—dark, sinister, but trapped.
Perhaps Haley wasn’t needed after all.
But Wade knew Dumbledore hadn’t waited so long, hadn’t allowed Wade to rewind time—only to bring people here—unless he, too, pitied the girl suffering beneath the Shadow.
Then—softly—Wade heard a whimper.
He turned.
Haley’s eyes fluttered open.
She stared, dazed. “Where… am I? Who are you?”
“I’m a friend of Rita Skeeter,” Wade said gently. “Mabel and I came for you.”
“…I’m okay,” she whispered, sitting up, rubbing her eyes. She looked around, confused. “I… I don’t remember…”
She saw the surgical tools. A shiver ran through her. Fear flashed across her face.
But then she touched her chest. Her breath eased.
“I… I think I had a nightmare,” she said, smiling weakly. She looked under the bed, then glanced around. “Mabel… where is she?”
Wade paused, choosing his words.
Then—distant, but unmistakable—came a series of gunshots.
“Dak-dak-dak-dak-dak!”
(End of Chapter)
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