Chapter 470: Letters Across Time
The room was unnaturally cold. Wade exhaled slowly, his breath forming a visible cloud before his face.
Mabel found it amusing and mimicked him, blowing out a long stream of air before breaking into a smile.
Perched on Wade’s shoulder was a white eagle, its body radiating a soft, faint glow. The light kept the chill at bay, shielding them from the suffocating sorrow the atmosphere otherwise threatened to bring.
The others in the room weren’t so fortunate. A shadowy figure glided forward, its form emanating a chilling, oppressive aura. A withered, rotting hand stretched out—
Just then, it was Michael’s turn to face the Dementor. Standing in the center of the living room, he raised his wand, teeth chattering. “Patronus… Patronus… Patronus Charm… Patronus Charm…”
A flickering, silver-white mist spurted intermittently from the wand’s tip—but it never coalesced. It couldn’t even hold the Dementor at bay.
As the creature’s hand nearly brushed Michael’s shoulder, Theo lunged forward, yanking him back behind the sofa. Liam sprang in front of him, shouting, “Patronus Charm!”
A hazy silver silhouette erupted from the wand, barely pushing the Dementor back two steps. But within seconds, it faded.
Theo stepped up immediately, attempting the charm again. He trembled violently, nearly collapsing—but Michael surged forward once more.
Summoning a Patronus against a Dementor was no easy task—especially not when it was a Boggart version. The weight of despair and dread it projected was just as overwhelming as any real one.
And casting such a high-level spell? For a young wizard whose magical aptitude and emotional control were still unrefined, it was a brutal test—of magic, stamina, and willpower.
They were drenched in sweat, limbs shaking uncontrollably. As their strength began to fail, Remus Lupin strode over. “Enough. You all need a break… Joke-Joke!”
A loud crack echoed through the room. The Dementor dissolved into a dog chew stick, which Remus flicked back into the box. The eagle on Wade’s shoulder vanished.
Michael collapsed onto the floor, gasping, defeated. “How could this happen? I’ve summoned a Patronus before—why not now?”
“It’s too advanced for you right now,” Harry said, pulling him up. “Remember on the train? I couldn’t do it either—ended up passing out.”
“But you’ve mastered it since,” Michael insisted. “So I just need to train more.”
The others burst into laughter—especially at the fact that Michael, the most notorious slacker among them, was suddenly so determined.
“Don’t be so anxious,” Remus said, handing out chocolate bars. “You’ve done well. Focus on happy memories. Don’t let the past consume you.”
He gently guided them toward a calmer mindset. Harry moved to stand beside Wade and Mabel, just as Mabel asked, “What were you all laughing about?”
“The laziest kid in the group suddenly turned into a workhorse,” Wade drawled, half-asleep. “Feels like the sun’s rising in the west.”
Mabel blinked, confused. “Oh…” She didn’t get the joke. Then, after a pause, she asked, “How are Mr. Rubik and the others? I miss them.”
“Mr. Rubik?” Harry repeated the name, frowning. He looked at Mabel—the girl who, to everyone’s eyes, was a plain, freckled American girl with two braids, temporarily staying with Remus Lupin’s household due to a “medical leave.”
They’d never asked about her condition. But judging by their expressions, Harry and the others had quietly assumed she was a werewolf too—like Remus.
“He’s Wade’s magical puppet,” Mabel said with a small smile. “The others are… quite interesting.”
She didn’t mention how, in the absence of commands, those puppets had traveled across thousands of miles to rescue their master. So when Harry heard it, he pictured a flock of fist-sized, magical toy pets.
Wade had many puppets—nothing unusual. He didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he asked, “Where’s Kariel? He didn’t come with you?”
“No. He had other business.” Wade didn’t want to relive that mess. “You’ve all been practicing spells like maniacs lately?”
“Can’t afford to be useless next time we face real danger,” Harry said, voice heavy. “I’m not going to pass out again.”
Wade thought of the trials Harry would face a year later—of Voldemort’s return, of battles that would test even the strongest. He nodded slowly. “Training helps. The world’s getting more dangerous.”
“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “Dementors, Silent Shadows, the Wizard Purity Party… and Death Eaters like Malfoy’s father who escaped punishment. Percy says when they were students, magic society was peaceful. The biggest news was another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor getting fired.”
—And the secret preparations for Voldemort’s resurrection.
The thought flickered in Wade’s mind. Then he heard Harry’s next words and sighed. “Since we started school, trouble’s just kept piling up. In a story, this would be called main character treatment.”
Harry nearly laughed.
Mabel looked between them, then turned to Harry. “Did the Silent Shadow bother you? Why’s it on the list?”
“Huh?” Harry said, not thinking. “I guess I just hear that name in the papers all the time. Subconsciously grouped it with the rest.”
Mabel studied him carefully. She saw no realization in his eyes. She looked away.
Wade was about to speak—when a flash of silver caught his eye.
A Phoenix Patronus burst through the window and landed beside him, its beak opening to speak in Dumbledore’s voice:
“Come to the Shrieking Shack at once, Wade.”
…
The Shrieking Shack wasn’t far from Remus Lupin’s home. By the time Wade arrived, Dumbledore stood beside the dilapidated shack, robes shimmering with tiny golden stars.
“Professor Dumbledore,” Wade said, approaching. “What’s happened?”
“Kariel has escaped from Hogwarts.” Dumbledore extended his hand, signaling Wade to take it. “Come. I may know where he’s gone.”
Crack.
They vanished from the spot—then reappeared in a strange city.
Before them stood a courtyard enclosed by iron grates, surrounded by shrubs. At its center rose a six-story white building. A sign beside the main gate read: Home Sanatorium.
Dumbledore led Wade inside.
“Not long ago,” Dumbledore said, “Professor McGonagall informed me that Kariel attacked Hermione in the Gryffindor Common Room, stole her Time-Turner, and fled.”
Wade frowned. “He must’ve rewound time, then slipped out through a secret passage. A few hours—enough to vanish anywhere in Britain.”
“True,” Dumbledore replied. “But I suspect Kariel didn’t just go back a few hours. He went much further.”
He paused, then added, “An hour ago, after meeting with Madam Maxime, I received a letter. A letter written over a year ago… but scheduled for delivery today.”
Wade’s brow twitched. “From Kariel?”
“Yes.”
Dumbledore stepped inside. A middle-aged doctor, bent over a wheelchair-bound patient, looked up as they entered.
“Back so soon, Professor Dumbledore?” she said, not even blinking at their odd attire. Her eyes locked onto Wade. “Oh—you must be Wade Gray! You look just like the photos.”
“Photos?” Wade said, startled.
“Yes,” she said, glancing around. Then she led them into her office and pulled out a photograph from a drawer.
In the center stood Harry. Beside him were Wade, Hermione, and others.
Wade recognized it instantly—it was a Gryffindor shot taken by Colin Creevey, a diehard Harry Potter fan who loved snapping pictures of him, occasionally including the others.
Wade returned the photo. “What’s going on?”
The doctor exhaled deeply, her expression a mix of fear, disbelief, and sudden relief. “Last year… no, the year before… during Christmas, I met a ghost.”
Wade blinked. “A ghost?”
He glanced at Dumbledore, who silently urged him to listen.
“Yes,” she shivered. “One night, I was alone in my office. It… appeared. Not exactly appeared—more like it spoke, out of nowhere.”
“What did it say?”
“It told me to take a patient back home. Hide her. Care for her. And only when a boy named Wade Gray arrived—on January 30, 1994—could I release her.”
Her voice trembled. “It said it had cursed me. If I didn’t obey, my family would die. Only Wade Gray could lift the curse.”
“I thought it was a prank. I told it to stop or I’d call the police. But then… everything in my room started shaking. Lights flickered and exploded. I was lifted off the ground—felt hands choking my neck!”
She touched her throat, still visibly shaken.
“I… I had no choice. I brought her home. But the next morning… there was a body in the hospital bed. Exactly like her. And the cause of death… it was strange.”
She lowered her voice, trembling. “She was… strangled by her own necklace.”
“I ran back to check. But the woman I brought home was still there. And the body in the hospital… I don’t know which one was real. I don’t know which one was the ghost.”
She looked at Wade, pleading. “Will you take it—her—away? My task is done. Can the curse be lifted?”
Wade understood. He stayed silent for a long moment. Then: “Where’s the extra body?”
“Oh. No one claimed it. It’s… too strange. So it’s still in the morgue.”
She led them there. Dumbledore signed a few forms. The doctor pulled open a dusty cabinet, sealed for over a year.
Dumbledore didn’t lift the cloth. Transformation magic or Polyjuice Potion could alter every physical trait—but one thing remained unchanged.
The old man gently tugged the patient’s gown up.
On the bony ankle, a pair of iron rings—thin as fingers—were tightly bound. Aurors used them to prevent escape.
After a long silence, Dumbledore covered the body again. “Where is the one you were entrusted to care for?”
“The one?” The doctor paused. Then: “She’s doing well. No memories, but she can take care of herself. She shouldn’t stay cooped up at home, so I placed her at my father’s farmstead.”
She took a leave of absence and drove them there.
Soon, Wade saw Kariel’s real mother—Mrs. Annie Johnson.
She wore a loose, simple blue dress, sitting on a haystack, brushing a fat cat’s fur.
Unlike the tense, distant woman he’d known before, she looked peaceful, serene. Her eyes were soft. A gentle smile played on her lips.
Wade thought of the body in the morgue. His jaw tightened. He turned his head away, lips pressed into a thin line.
The doctor stayed far back. “I’ve taken good care of her, haven’t I? Can this end now?”
“Of course,” Dumbledore said, placing a hand on her forehead. A wave of warmth washed over her. She stared at him in shock.
“The curse is lifted,” he said. “We’ll take both the woman and the body. Thank you for your care.”
There was no curse—Dumbledore knew that. But saying so eased the mind.
“I’ll send you a payment,” Wade added. He recalled the average cost of care at a sanatorium, then doubled it. “Three thousand pounds. Is that enough?”
She’d originally refused any money tied to the “ghost.” But at the number, she hesitated—then nodded. “Yes… more than enough.”
She paused. “It… left something for you. A box. I just haven’t had time to mention it.”
A few minutes later, she retrieved a long, narrow box from the warehouse. It bore the words: For Wade.
A complex lock secured it—but two wizards didn’t need keys.
The doctor watched in awe as the lock clicked open with no effort. She realized she’d just witnessed something beyond ordinary life.
Wade lifted the lid.
Inside: Harry’s Firebolt, the Invisibility Cloak, Hermione’s Time-Turner… and a letter.
He unfolded the parchment.
The handwriting was messy, unmistakably Kariel’s:
> Wade,
> By the time you read this, I’ve been dead for a long time. Don’t feel sad for me—I earned it.
>
> I’m sorry. But I don’t regret it. My mother did nothing wrong. All this suffering… it’s my fault. So if someone must die, let it be me. After all, I’ve already died from time travel. I’d rather trade my life to bring her back.
>
> I know the consequences are severe. But I tried not to change anything. If time unravels… I can’t help it. I’ll just wish you luck.
>
> Maybe you hate me now. But for the sake of the biscuits she baked for you—please help her. Let her live in peace, far from magic. Don’t let her remember any of this.
>
> If you ever meet my father… tell him: I’m sorry. I love him.
>
> —C.J.
(End of Chapter)
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