https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-396-Let-It-Be-As-If-I-Never-Came/13685406/
Chapter 397: Butterflies
Hearing the roar of cheers, Professor Snape’s expression grew darker. He was well aware that if Slytherin had won, there would have been no such frenzy. Only a Gryffindor victory could elicit such a reaction—three-quarters of the students celebrating wildly.
Amidst screams so loud they drowned out thunder, the Potions Professor abandoned Wade and limped toward the castle’s dungeon.
Wade didn’t understand why Snape didn’t use magic to make his return easier—after all, he could have floated back to his own common room with no effort.
Eventually, Wade could only conclude that Professor Snape probably had a touch of self-punishment in his nature.
Suddenly, someone from inside flung themselves at him, wrapping their arms around his neck.
“Ha, Wade! Where were you during that last play?” Michael laughed. “Did you see Harry grab the Golden Snitch right in the middle of the Slytherin players? Haha, they were absolutely furious!”
Wade withdrew his wand, which had nearly slipped out of his grip, and smiled. “Harry won?”
“Absolutely! Harry Potter! He’s going to be a world-class Quidditch star!”
Even students who hadn’t known what was happening joined in the chorus.
Before Wade could respond, Michael was dragged away by others.
They were so excited it was as if they themselves had won.
Even Ravenclaw, usually the calmest house, was buzzing with energy. Gryffindor was beyond ecstatic—some students were running wild across the Quidditch pitch in the pouring rain, repeatedly throwing the players into the air.
The girls, meanwhile, had already begun returning to the castle in small groups. Hufflepuff students followed suit.
Everyone had been drenched all day. Now, chilled and starving, they shivered as they walked.
“Wade?” Theo and Liam, hugging flame bottles for warmth, eyes glistening with tears, called out. “Come on, let’s go together?”
Wade walked over. “You guys seem extra excited tonight.”
“Yeah!” Theo exclaimed, bouncing with energy. “Harry pulled off Sidney’s legendary Polish tactic in the final moments—using the stormy weather to confuse the enemy, then snatching the Golden Snitch right in the middle of four Slytherin players!”
“He fell off his broom at the end, but it’s fine—Professor Abigail caught him!”
“Professor Abigail?” Wade paused slightly.
“Yeah,” Theo said. “Don’t know why, but today Professor McGonagall and Professor Flee weren’t around, and we didn’t see Professor Snape either. But thankfully, Professor Abigail was here—otherwise, Harry would’ve been seriously hurt.”
Liam asked, “Wade, didn’t you watch the match?”
“Yeah,” Wade replied. “It was raining so hard, I went flying for a bit.”
“I went a little far.”
That sounded incredibly reckless. Theo frowned. “Flying in this weather? You’re lucky you didn’t get struck by lightning.”
“Come on, how bad could it be? Once you’re far enough away, the rain stops.”
They laughed and chatted as they made their way back to the castle. The match had lasted late into the night, but the kitchens had kept dinner warm for all the students.
Still, the Great Hall was nearly empty of Gryffindors—they were probably celebrating all night in their common room.
The SSC members stayed seated together. Even Michael and Padma, who hadn’t spoken in weeks, were now sitting side by side, waving at Wade and the others.
Wade flicked his wand, drying and warming everyone’s soaked clothes in an instant.
“Thanks, Wade,” Padma said, smiling. “Clothes clinging to your skin like ice—it was unbearable. I’d have gone straight to bed if I weren’t so hungry.”
Wade sat down. “Just a simple spell. I’ll teach you all later.”
“Deal!” Michael eagerly agreed, then turned to Padma. “I’ll be the first to learn. I’ll never let you suffer through that again.”
Padma snorted. “I don’t need your help. I’ll learn it myself.”
Theo asked Liam, “Did you finish your Astronomy essay? I’m still confused about a few constellation positions.”
“Done,” Liam said. “I’ll help you after.”
“Me too, please!” Michael whined, feigning desperation. “Three straight classes with no stargazing, but Professor Sinistra still assigned the same amount. My head’s about to split.”
Wade took a slice of savory beef pie. The rich, warm aroma instantly filled his senses.
He sat in the clean, bright Great Hall, where candles burned endlessly above, while his friends chatted about assignments and the match.
Peace. Normalcy.
It was as if the events on the island had been nothing but a dream.
“Michael Conner,” a voice with a hint of amusement said from behind, “if you could memorize every star chart like Liam Caro, I might even reduce your essay load.”
Michael nearly fell off his chair in shock.
The group turned to see several professors passing by. The speaker was Professor Aurora Sinistra, head of Astronomy.
Michael hastily set down his roasted potatoes, leapt up, and straightened his posture.
“Absolutely not, Professor! Studying the orbits of stars and planets deepens our understanding of magic. It reveals the connection between celestial movements and all things in the world. It even allows us to glimpse the future!”
“This class is vital. How could I possibly cut corners? I’ll write my essay with full dedication—even if it drives me to the brink of madness, I will not abandon it!”
His dramatic performance brought laughter from the professors. Professor Sinistra shook her head, smiling, and gestured for him to sit back down and eat.
After a moment, Professor Abigail turned to Wade. “During the match, several professors suddenly left. Was there an emergency?”
Wade looked at her, puzzled. “I’m not aware of anything, Professor. Perhaps you should ask Professor Dumbledore?”
Michael jumped in. “We were watching the game the whole time. But I did see Professor Snape at the end—he probably knows what happened.”
“Hmm… yes,” Professor Abigail mused, studying Wade. “I don’t know why, but I have a feeling you might know something… Well, never mind. About that thing we discussed—”
“It’s mostly done,” Wade said. “I can deliver it Monday.”
“Perfect!” Professor Abigail smiled.
The professors walked toward the staff table—Serah Abigail (Defensive Magic Against the Dark Arts), Aurora Sinistra (Astronomy), Keridy Bubagi (Muggle Studies), Sethima Victor (Arithmancy), and Bathsheba Bablin (Ancient Runes).
All women, yet Abigail stood out not for being different, but for blending in seamlessly—her beauty radiant, yet natural.
Wade overheard snippets of their conversation—Professor Bablin grumbling about Wade secretly helping other students solve riddles in class. But the tone wasn’t really annoyed—it sounded more like boastful pride.
They discussed various students. Exceptional ones. Troublesome ones. Both were of interest to professors.
When Wade sat down, he noticed Michael staring at him.
“What?” Wade asked.
Michael leaned in, whispering, “Did Professor Abigail ask you something?”
Wade hesitated.
In his first and second years, he’d carried an unconscious sense of superiority—Hogwarts felt like the fairy tale world he’d seen in movies.
But as this world revealed more of its harsh, cruel truths, Wade had grown cautious.
Still, he didn’t deny it. Michael already knew the answer.
“Sigh…” Michael exhaled deeply. “First year, a professor had a Dark Lord pendant. Second year, we discovered the Dark Lord’s servant had disguised itself as a pet in the dorm. I thought—this year’s peace was almost suspicious.”
“Peace being suspicious?” Padma chimed in, puzzled. “Isn’t it always peaceful?”
Michael smiled. “Yeah, you’re right. Hey, want some snow pear juice?”
He suddenly changed tone, eagerly pouring a transparent glass of drink for Padma, as if he’d forgotten his earlier words.
But Wade remained silent for a long while.
…
Watching Snape drag Wade away, Haley gasped, then clapped a hand over her mouth.
Mabel held the little girl close, staring at the white-bearded man before them. “So… what are you going to do with us?”
Dumbledore peered at them through his half-moon spectacles, voice gentle. “What do you think should happen?”
“I… I know I killed someone. Kill me if you want. But don’t hurt Haley. Don’t experiment on her!” Mabel growled, eyes fierce.
“No! Don’t let her die!” Haley cried. “If Mabel dies, I die with her!”
“Don’t fear, children,” Dumbledore soothed. “No one here will die. Do you remember your parents? Do you know where home is?”
Mabel shook her head. “I don’t remember anything from before.”
Haley whispered, “My mom died. My dad doesn’t want me.” She clung tightly to Mabel’s waist. “Where Mabel is… that’s my home.”
“Hmm… I see,” Dumbledore said softly. “May I perform a simple test? With magic?”
Mabel instinctively flinched, but then realized the old man was far too powerful to need her permission. She nodded reluctantly.
Dumbledore raised his wand. Soft beams of light shimmered over them, like countless white feathers drifting down.
Haley reached out, curious, and the feathers passed through her arm, dissolving into her body.
Mabel tensed, black mist flickering beneath her skin, as if ready to burst.
After a moment, Dumbledore lowered his wand. His expression was grave.
Haley was in better shape than expected—malnourished, slightly anemic, but otherwise remarkably healthy.
But as he suspected, Mabel’s memories were completely erased—gone, irretrievable.
Worse still was the Silent Shadow.
Children infested by this dark force rarely lived past ten. The Shadow burned the soul constantly.
Yet Mabel was fourteen.
Apparently, the Muggles had used a method to suppress her magic—keeping the Shadow dormant. But today, the suppression had been broken.
Dumbledore said nothing of his findings. After a long silence, he finally smiled.
“Would you like to go to school?”
He asked with a warm, grandfatherly grin, as if preparing a Christmas gift.
“School?” Haley looked both excited and afraid. “I went to school before… up to second grade…”
Mabel paused, then asked, “What about the killing? Does it just… disappear?”
She swallowed her question, realizing the truth.
“Can we stay together?”
“I’m afraid not,” Dumbledore said gently. “Haley will go to a regular school. You’re a wizard—you belong at Hogwarts.”
“Hogwarts?” Mabel murmured.
She’d heard of it from reporters—the place was described as a fairy tale, a magical school from legend.
“Exactly,” Dumbledore said. “A school of magic. Almost all young wizards in the British Isles attend. You’ll meet kind, clever friends—many of them will be wizards too.”
“Will Wade Gray be there?” Mabel asked.
“Of course.”
“But… what about Haley?” She looked at Haley, torn.
“I’ll find her a wonderful adoptive family. She’ll grow up healthy and happy, just like any ordinary child.” Dumbledore promised. “And during holidays, you can visit her.”
Mabel didn’t want to part.
But she knew—this was the best choice for Haley.
The old man was the one Wade had written to… he seemed kind, not dangerous…
And in a wizarding world, no one would be searching for her magic gene.
After long thought, Mabel nodded slowly. She even managed to convince the reluctant Haley.
“… Once I learn magic, I’ll take you flying. If anyone tries to bully us, I’ll zap them in a flash—whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—and beat them all!”
“Magic can make ants and butterflies as big as houses. Then you can ride on a butterfly’s back and fly across the sea…”
The two girls imagined their magical future. Their anxious faces slowly softened, replaced by hopeful smiles.
Dumbledore watched silently, his blue eyes filled with quiet sorrow.
…
On the island, now reduced to ruins, more Ministry of Magic officials arrived, responding to the summons.
Under the guidance of the Hogwarts professors, the Ministry finally understood: the Muggles here weren’t victims to protect.
They were criminals.
They had committed atrocities against wizards.
They had murdered innocent children.
All the Muggles on the island were arrested and taken away—awaiting trial and punishment.
The children from the dungeon were rescued. Those in poor health were rushed to St. Mungo’s. Others would be identified and returned to their families.
Rita Skeeter had recovered her crocodile leather bag during the chaos. She snapped photo after photo, capturing priceless first-hand images. Her feather quill buzzed with excitement, scribbling furiously.
She was the only journalist on the island.
With such an exclusive scoop, she couldn’t stop grinning. All her past suffering felt worth it.
Umbridge arrived late, face dark with fury—but she was powerless. Skeeter had already spun a dramatic, heroic narrative, embellishing it with flair. The children themselves supported her story.
Ministry staff were deeply convinced. They admired her bravery, cheering her as a true war correspondent, wishing they could fight alongside her.
And with Fudge leading the group, the wizards finally confirmed the exact location where the Silent Shadow had been erased.
They began walking toward the one remaining standing building.
(End of Chapter)
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