Chapter 405: News
Wade flipped open his own copy of the Daily Prophet.
The incident on the island had finally made the front page—though the article treated it with a casual, almost dismissive tone:
【Ministry of Magic's Heroic Action: Rescue of Muggle Children from Danger!】
【Special Correspondent Rita Skeeter reports: On December 12, the British Ministry of Magic, in collaboration with independent wizards, successfully rescued 82 children who had been abducted from an unnamed island near the ice fields. Seven of them are from Britain. Among the rescued, four possess magical ability—but all are over the age for enrollment at Hogwarts.】
【According to sources, the majority of the children hailed from North America, Asia, and Africa, with over half originating from the Middle East. Due to prolonged conflict in their home countries, many orphaned children were forced into the slave trade.】
【Investigations revealed that some children had suffered physical abuse, and most were severely malnourished due to inadequate food. After treatment at St. Mungo’s Hospital, their health has greatly improved.】
【A Ministry spokesperson confirmed that the Ministry has contacted Muggle governments. The rescued Muggle children will be placed in Muggle welfare homes and placed in search of reliable adoptive families. Children with magical ability will be funded by the Ministry to take a basic correspondence course in magic.】
【Given the rising number of missing children cases in Muggle society in recent years, governments worldwide are expected to establish more robust systems to prevent future disappearances.】
【Notably, there are rumors that one child—having endured severe trauma on the island—developed a Silent Shadow and escaped. However, this claim remains unverified.】
【Auror Office Director Rufus Scrimgeour stated: “We’ve heard these rumors. The situation is still under investigation.”】
【Silent Shadows are known to be extremely dangerous forms of Dark Magic—unstable, nearly impossible to control. If such a creature truly roams the British Isles, how can we protect our safety?】
【In response, Minister of Magic Fudge urges all wizarding families to strengthen supervision and education of their children. Only through collective effort can we ensure a safe, healthy environment for every child.】
The article ended there—no mention of Dumbledore, no reference to any Hogwarts professors. The entire operation was reduced to a vague, collective “independent wizards.”
It read as if the Ministry had stumbled upon the crisis and heroically rescued the children all on its own.
Even the identities of the criminals were never revealed—like they’d simply appeared out of thin air.
Most readers, naturally, assumed the perpetrators had been caught and justice served.
—And Harry was no exception.
He chewed through his bread, eyes scanning the paper in quick, hungry bites. “The Ministry really is impressive… I hope I can become an Auror when I graduate.”
Michael stared at him, wide-eyed. Seeing Harry’s genuine tone, he was genuinely shocked.
Even without knowing the full truth, didn’t Harry remember what Percy Weasley had said at that meeting?
But Harry wasn’t thinking that deeply. He’d received his own copy of the Prophet, but hadn’t had time to read it closely.
Still, if it took days for the news to break, it must mean the Ministry had already handled everything.
At this moment, Harry hadn’t yet been twisted by false reports. Like most ordinary people, he trusted official institutions implicitly.
He didn’t realize the Ministry of Magic was made up of wizards with their own selfish motives—instead, he saw it as a unified, authoritative, and fair body.
Harry finished his breakfast, wiped his mouth, and shoved the paper under his arm. “I’ve gotta go—gotta tell Ron and Hermione not to sign the Stay-Over List!”
He dashed off in a blur. Michael watched him vanish down the hall, then turned to Wade, baffled.
“Harry… doesn’t he have any doubts?”
Wade didn’t look up. “He’s not a Ravenclaw.”
It wasn’t a strong argument—but Michael was instantly convinced.
“…Alright,” he sighed. “One day he’ll learn that news reports are lucky to be half-true. Especially when it’s written by Rita Skeeter, the queen of gossip.”
He flipped through the paper, frowning. “Weird… this article doesn’t feel like her usual style.”
“What’s her usual style?” Wade asked, flipping to the next page.
“She usually writes like this,” Michael said, mimicking a dramatic, breathy tone:
“We must ask ourselves—what truly led to this tragedy? Could the escape of the Silent Shadow be the result of Ministry neglect? I’ve heard whispers of a dark conspiracy… a truth buried beneath the surface…”
Wade couldn’t help but laugh. Michael had nailed it—almost perfectly. He could almost see Rita Skeeter, eyes gleaming, fingers fluttering as she spun her web of intrigue.
At thirteen, Michael could already spot Rita’s tricks in the news.
Compared to that, the original Weasley matriarch was constantly duped by fake rhetoric, even misjudging Hermione over nothing.
“Maybe… this time, she actually did uncover the real truth,” Wade mused. “Maybe she knows too much to write it down.”
He turned another page. The paper was filled with long, sensationalized pieces about Silent Shadows.
Cleddens Baribown—Aurelius Dumbledore, long dead—was dragged back into the spotlight, portrayed with exaggerated horror as a destroyer of cities.
The reporter clearly hadn’t done their research. They blamed Grindelwald for the fire that burned Paris, slapping the same tale onto Cleddens’ name.
Honestly, if read as a novel, it would’ve been quite entertaining.
Wade set the paper down and glanced around.
Few students were reading it. Even fewer would care after finishing.
The tension that had gripped the school after Percy Weasley’s speech had now faded. Like Harry, most believed the case was closed—except for the lingering question of whether the Silent Shadow still roamed somewhere in Britain.
Wade could understand.
Just like in his previous life, people often read about disasters—fires, earthquakes, floods—on the news.
But unless it happened near them, most remained indifferent.
No involvement. No discussion. No real concern.
At most, they’d like the post and move on.
But here, in the magical world—smaller, more intimate—Wade felt a quiet, unspoken frustration.
Not everyone was blind.
And he’d been there.
“Let’s go,” Michael said, slinging his backpack on. “Time for class.”
Wade said nothing.
Mondays always began with three overlapping elective classes.
He rolled the newspaper into his backpack, touched the Time-Turner around his neck, and stood.
Even as Christmas approached, the workload only intensified.
By lunch, even Wade was too busy to think about anything else.
It wasn’t until after lunch, when he wound the Time-Turner back, that he finally had time to reach out.
【Ferdinand: You’ll be back for the holidays, right? Of course, you can stay if you want to hang out with friends—but your mum saw the news and really wants to see you.】
【Fiona: Your dad misses you too. He’s just too shy to say it!】
(A playful little grin was drawn at the end.)
Wade smiled, tucked the Book of Friends away, and slipped the Communication Pea into his ear.
The same device, packed with extra functions, had already been sent to his parents’ friends—and a few key contacts.
Leaning against the window, he pressed the pea and said:
“Connect to Fiona Gray and Ferdinand Gray.”
Beep-beep.
Two rings. Then—
“Hi, Wade!” Fiona’s cheerful voice came through. “You’re done with class?”
“Yeah,” Wade replied, his lips curving upward. “No more classes for now.”
Then Ferdinand’s voice: “Did you read today’s paper, Wade?”
“I did.”
“Huge story!” Fiona chimed in. “The Streaming Mirror’s full of it! Even the ordinary news—Reuters, the News Union, the Daily Telegraph—all talking about it!”
Wade stared at the grey sky beyond the window. “There are rumors here too… like the 82 children weren’t the only ones taken.”
“Makes sense,” Ferdinand said. “That’s just the ones we rescued. I keep wondering… maybe the Johnsons were—”
“Dad,” Wade interrupted, “Kariel’s here. He’s at school. At Hogwarts.”
He hadn’t planned to say it. But he was worried—what if, one day, Kariel ran into the Gray family on the street?
Using the old connection between their homes, he could easily manipulate their trust.
If his parents didn’t know the truth, they’d be defenseless against such deception.
He didn’t want his attempt to protect people to end up putting them in danger.
“—What?!” Ferdinand shrieked. Fiona gasped.
A long silence followed. Then, Ferdinand’s voice, strained: “He… he’s okay?”
“Yeah,” Wade said. “He’s cheerful. Doing well in magic.”
“Then… does he know… about Mrs. Johnson? That she’s… gone?” Fiona’s voice cracked.
“I don’t know,” Wade said softly, eyes down. “After we reunited, he never mentioned his parents. I doubt he remembers them… you know how magic can erase memories.”
“And Kariel… I’m sure he was exposed to terrible influences during those months. Just… please, if you ever meet him—don’t trust him.”
“…I understand,” Ferdinand said.
Wade thought he heard a faint sigh—maybe just imagination.
“Poor Annie…” Fiona whispered. “She was such a good mother…”
Annie Johnson—Kariel’s mother—had first been hit by a Forgetting Charm, then later strangled by a magical necklace in the sanatorium.
Fiona hadn’t liked her much before. But now that she was gone, all she could remember were her kindnesses.
“Do you remember, Wade?” Fiona said, voice trembling. “She made the best little biscuits. Every time she visited, she brought a box… even when she was busy, she never forgot…”
She broke off, choked up.
Wade stayed silent, waiting for her to regain composure—or for Ferdinand to comfort her.
Then, gently: “I’m thinking of inviting a few friends over for the holidays. Is that okay?”
“Of course!” Fiona chirped. “I’ll tidy up the rooms.”
“This house is too small,” Ferdinand added. “And with us around, the kids won’t have room to play. Wade, you can bring them to the Westminster house—it’s convenient for Christmas events.”
“Sure,” Wade said immediately.
He understood. His father was just worried the kids would cause too much chaos—and didn’t want his mother overworked.
“Can’t have Christmas dinner outside,” Fiona insisted. “I’ll buy the best roast chickens—who’s coming?”
“Harry and Michael… I’ll ask the others later.”
“Harry? The Harry Potter—the Savior?” Fiona gasped. “The one who fought the serpent monster on the Streaming Mirror?”
“…Yeah. Him.”
“Good heavens! Harry Potter’s coming to our house?!” Fiona burst into excitement. “I never imagined… a child who saved the world as a baby must have some incredible hidden power!”
Wade blinked. “…Have you been watching superhero movies again?”
“What?” Fiona didn’t catch it.
“Nothing,” Wade said, smiling. “Never mind.”
They chatted for a while—light, warm, full of family chatter—until the hour was nearly up.
One advantage of the Communication Pea? It never overheated, no matter how long you used it.
Wade pressed the pea again.
“Connect to Rita Skeeter.”
Beep.
“Ah, I knew you’d call,” Rita’s voice came through—hurried, rushed, with background noise buzzing around her.
She clattered across the floor, then a door slammed shut. Finally, silence.
“Look, I’m swamped at the office—don’t even get me started. The article turned out like that not because I wanted it to, but because if I didn’t write it that way, they’d replace me with someone else. I had no choice.”
“I understand,” Wade said.
“Tell me—what’s the Ministry planning next? Any word on Mabel?”
(End of Chapter)
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