Chapter 415: Irrali: We Will Mass-Produce Magic Puppets!
Early in the morning, Wade and the others had already prepared for their departure—cloaks, scarves, hats, gloves, and even dragonhide boots with anti-slip soles.
"Seriously," Michael said, pretending to waddle clumsily, "I feel like a bear."
Harry burst into laughter. "Haha... you look more like a penguin!"
"Know this, then—male penguins are the ones who incubate the eggs, you know?" Michael replied dramatically. "Try my incubation powers, Harry baby!"
He rolled forward like a ball, tackling Harry to the ground and knocking the wind out of him. Rolling on the floor, he cried out for help.
Remus Lupin pushed the door open. "Come on, the carriage has arrived."
"Be right there!" Wade waved his wand, lifting the two flailing figures off the ground with a flick, then slipped the wand back into his pocket.
The two tussled their way out through the narrow entrance, acting like two kindergarten friends playing at being adults.
Wade stepped outside and glanced up at the sky—dark and overcast, heavy with clouds, as if snow were about to fall. Since Dementors had begun drifting through the skies of Britain, clear days had become rare.
"The weather's not good today," Wade frowned. "We’d better wait a couple of days to go to Diagon Alley… It’s the release day for the Communication Earpieces. The place will be packed."
"But you’re not an ordinary tourist, Wade," Michael grinned. "You have to go. You’re giving a speech, remember?"
Wade let out a long, exasperated sigh.
—That was exactly why he didn’t want to go.
He remembered Professor Mor’s warning in his letter:
> Dear beloved Wade, your name is no longer a secret in certain circles. I’ve received multiple messages—someone inside is planning to kidnap you to steal your mastery and its technology. Others want to use Veritaserum or Love Potion…
>
> Hiding any longer serves no purpose. On the contrary, embracing the identity of the “Prodigy Alchemist” will better protect you.
So this time, Machionni had boldly placed Wade’s name in the newspapers, even paid for an entire page to showcase his alchemical artifacts over the past few years—piling on praise and accolades with no restraint.
It was too flashy… The Light of attention made Wade feel uneasy. He knew someone inside might try to gather him like they had Harry. But he also knew this was unavoidable. He had to face it.
"Did you prepare your speech?" Remus Lupin asked as they got into the car.
"Of course," Wade said. "A tech nerd persona is surprisingly misleading, isn’t it?"
Remus blinked, slightly confused, but trusted Wade’s instincts and settled into the passenger seat.
It was just an ordinary Muggle taxi, driven by a normal man. Once inside, they stopped discussing magic and began talking about what they wanted to buy.
"I’ll get Hermione a book… or maybe a feather quill. Ron gets a box of toffee. Neville? How about a rare seed?" Harry mused.
"Nice!" Michael, scribbling in a notebook, said. "We can get different seeds. We could even give one to Theo… I’m preparing a moon model for Liam. Don’t copy me, okay?"
"No way," Wade said. "Afterward, I’ll check out Harrods. They have great celestial models. And we can stop by a nearby bookstore for some books."
"I’ll come too!" Michael grinned. "I want to see what kind of fun things that Muggle department store sells. Maybe there’s a new game out! Harry, what do you think?"
"Sure… uh…" Harry patted his pocket, realizing he only had wizarding currency.
"Still, I’ll need to stop by Gringotts first."
"Don’t forget to get something for your aunt and uncle, Harry," Remus suddenly added.
"What?" Harry’s face twisted in protest. "The best gift they could get is me failing."
Remus sighed. "I don’t like them either, but they raised you. Gift-giving is only fair."
"Fine…" Harry muttered. Then, turning to his friends: "I’ll buy a box of toothpicks—last year they gave me one. I’m not that petty. I’ll give them a whole box!"
"What? A toothpick?!" Michael gaped. "That’s a Christmas gift?"
"Who says it isn’t?" Harry said, half-joking.
…
The taxi pulled up at Charing Cross Road. They all got out, waited for the car to drive away, then stepped carefully through the snowdrifts toward The Leaky Cauldron.
The dark, grimy little pub was packed—filled with chatter and laughter, the owner, Tom, bustling around like a man possessed, barely noticing the group slipping past.
In the courtyard behind the pub, Remus tapped the wall with his wand. Instantly, the arched doorway to Diagon Alley appeared.
Stepping through, Wade immediately spotted Machionni. Dressed like a bear, he paced back and forth in front of the doorway.
He turned at the sound—first mistaking the group for Muggle children, his expression fell. Then he saw Remus Lupin. His face froze. He turned sharply, finally catching a glimpse of Wade’s eyes through the narrow gap between scarf and hat.
"Good heavens! Wade, you’re finally here!" Machionni rushed forward, grabbing Wade’s arm. "The launch is starting soon—hurry, come with me!"
"Can’t be late. Only twenty minutes left," Wade said calmly.
"—Only twenty minutes left!" Machionni fired off, "And I can’t let you go on stage like this!"
"Appropriate attire is armor in the marketplace! You need to look lavish—anyone who sees you will respect you at first glance. I knew you’d come unprepared—just rushed through! Remus, I’m taking him!"
Before Remus could speak, Machionni seized Wade and Apparated him on the spot.
Crack!
Wade barely had time to steady himself when Machionni pointed at him, shouting: "Hurry! In fifteen minutes, I want to see a brand-new Wade Gray!"
Three or four oddly dressed people—gender ambiguous, wearing glittering gemstone pendants and holding rulers, scissors, and shining tools—surrounded him.
"Wait!" Wade stepped back, raising a hand in warning. "I don’t want to look like a peacock."
"Trust me," Machionni said confidently. "I know your style."
In truth, Wade’s clothes underneath the cloak weren’t flashy at all—black wizard robes with blue trim, perfectly suitable for class or even a future Triwizard Tournament ball. They wouldn’t stand out.
But to Machionni, they were too ordinary. Lost in a crowd, invisible.
With a command, three stylists descended on him. Wade swallowed hard, nervous.
The pointed wizard hat was inlaid with gemstones, stitched with intricate golden patterns. The robe bore matching gold embroidery. The belt held gemstones and tiny, refined magical artifacts—some spinning slowly, others glowing faintly, one ticking softly.
Gloves, pocket watch, boots, pendant—every piece radiated wealth, mystery, and opulence, a dazzling fusion of magic and artistry.
"Living masterpiece! Unmatched elegance! Three-dimensional! Perfect! Just right! Oh, I'm utterly in love—accept my adoration, my devotion..."
The mirror in front of him raved nonstop for five full minutes, leaving Wade wondering if it had gone mad.
Professor Mor entered just as the mirror’s praise wound down. He studied Wade, then nodded with a smile. "Yes. Very fitting."
Wade groaned. "Professor, I don’t even know how to walk anymore."
Professor Mor chuckled. "If you’d worn that metallic wire cloak of yours, you wouldn’t need all this extra decoration."
Wade winced. "That cloak… the home fellow might just steal all these gemstones."
The cloak, for reasons unknown, had an unnatural obsession with shiny things—like a legendary dragon drawn to gold. Wade had tried to make its appearance more ordinary, but the cloak resisted. Spells meant to alter it slowly faded. Eventually, he gave up and let it be.
A worker from the magical workshop burst in. "Owner! Time’s almost up!"
"Right," Machionni checked everyone’s outfits one last time. "Let’s go… Wade, remember—this is the battlefield."
Wade nodded seriously.
…
Harry and Michael followed Remus into the hall, blending in with the crowd.
The room was already packed with two hundred or more people, all dressed in extravagant, commanding attire. Foreign wizards were everywhere. The three, in their simple clothes, stood out like ugly ducklings among swans.
"Look—Malfoy!" Michael nudged Harry.
At a front-row table sat Malfoy and his family. Their pale, golden hair glowed under the lights, and the Minister of Magic, Fudge, sat beside them, grinning as he chatted with the elder Malfoy.
No doubt, it was Malfoy’s wealth that had won over the Minister.
Harry thought it to himself—then heard a voice nearby say, "Il y a longtemps que je ne t'ai vu, mon cher ami."
The French accent made Harry glance over. Two tall wizards shook hands enthusiastically.
"What did they say?" he whispered to Michael.
"French, I think," Michael shrugged, popping a grape into his mouth.
"Remus," Harry asked, "aren’t Communication Earpieces being sold in other countries too? Why are so many foreign wizards here?"
"Probably because only Britain has the launch event," Remus replied.
"So…" Harry blinked. "These people came here just to see Wade?"
A strange, surreal feeling washed over him—like he’d just realized his everyday study buddies were living in a different world.
That feeling intensified when the three stepped onto the stage together: gemstones flashing, the speaker glowing with grace and beauty, like a living painting.
Machionni introduced Aslan Workshop’s recent achievements. Terence Mor spoke proudly of his student. Then it was Wade’s turn.
He explained the Communication Earpiece’s functions, design philosophy, and future potential—his words clear, engaging, turning complex alchemy into accessible language. Everyone in the audience understood the innovation.
When he delved into technical details, his tone shifted—precise, deep, scholarly. He quoted ancient texts, referenced obscure principles, and built logical arguments that earned nods from seasoned alchemists.
When he finished, the hall erupted in applause.
Draco Malfoy glanced around, unsure how to react. He hesitated, then clapped reluctantly.
"Mom," he whispered, "what was he even talking about? I almost thought he was speaking in code. It sounded like English, but… not quite."
Narcissa Malfoy smiled. "Alchemy is a language only experts can truly understand."
"Oh…" Draco murmured. "Can you understand it?"
She kept smiling. "I’m not an alchemist."
Draco opened his mouth to ask more—but his father hissed, "Shut up, Draco."
After the speech, Harry felt no guilt over not understanding. He simply felt proud of his friend’s success.
Wade’s words were like finely tuned machinery. Even if most listeners didn’t grasp the details, they felt the depth, the precision, the authority. The applause rang sincere.
Any lingering rumors—about Mor using his work to pave the way for his student, or that Wade was Mor’s illegitimate son—vanished in the face of undeniable brilliance.
In a booth near the back, three foreign wizards sat. One, a man with panda-like dark circles, trembled with excitement.
"You’re having a fit?" Majer Byerd asked, tense.
"I get it! I finally understand!" Irrali cried. "Now I see how spells are nested together! Ah… I’ve seen the light of the lighthouse! I’ve caught the key note! I’ve found my Venus!"
Majer Byerd narrowed his eyes, ready to drag the man away at any moment.
Irrali seized his hand. "Can you understand, Majer? I finally know how to build that Magic Puppet!"
"Really?" Majer Byerd blinked, stunned. "You’re sure?"
"Of course! Not the original, not yet—but I can make perfect copies. Hahahaha! It’s so simple! We can mass-produce Magic Puppets now, Majer! The world will fall into our hands!"
Beside him, Abigail remained silent, using magic to silence the voices around their table. She looked up, eyes fixed on Wade as he stepped down from the stage.
Both she and Majer Byerd had disguised their appearances with Polyjuice Potion—but for some reason, Abigail thought Wade had glanced at them several times during his speech.
An illusion? she wondered, uncertain.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
