Chapter 501: Black Family Manor Tent
A group of students in blue-and-crimson robes strolled past Wade, laughing and chatting about a recent Quidditch match.
"Ten to three ninety... hahaha... I've never seen a game with such a huge gap before..."
Remus Lupin’s smile vanished abruptly. He rubbed his nose, his expression flickering between irritation and awkwardness.
"What's wrong?" Wade glanced at the golden buttons on their robes, puzzled.
"They were talking about the England vs. Transylvania match," Remus whispered. "England only scored ten points."
"Oh." Wade nodded slowly. He understood, but it didn’t bother him much. After all, in the Muggle World Cup, he’d seen matches that were even more embarrassing—back then, he’d long since stopped caring.
Then Wade asked, "Transylvania? I thought that was in Romania."
"In the Muggle world, yes. But in the magical world, Transylvania is a special place—don’t mix it up with Romania," Remus said seriously. "It’s home to many Dark Magical creatures, and some powerful Dark Wizards live there in hiding."
The group of students had already passed by. Moments later, Wade spotted Sirius Black and Harry.
Harry knelt in front of the tent, clumsily arranging a few sticks into a lopsided frame, trying to build a fire. Sirius Black stood in the open space near the entrance, hands in his pockets, smirking as he spoke to a wizard.
The wizard wore a yellow-and-black Quidditch uniform, making him look like a plump yellow wasp. His round blue eyes sparkled with cheer, and his broad grin gave him the air of a perpetually cheerful schoolboy.
"Oh, Ludo Bagman," Remus frowned.
"Dear Sirius Black," Bagman beamed, "want to place a bet on the next match?" He leaned in, enthusiasm bubbling. "Ireland vs. Peru—three-to-one odds! Bulgaria vs. Wales—Krum’s playing. Guaranteed win!"
"You can bet on which team scores first, who catches the Golden Snitch, even which two teams make the finals. What do you say? Want to play?"
"Come on—this kind of chance only comes around every four years!"
Sirius Black smirked, spinning a few Galleons between his fingers. "If you’re offering me a sure thing, then you’re guaranteed to lose. I heard you nearly lost your wand in that England game!"
Bagman’s face twitched with discomfort, then he laughed heartily, slapping Sirius on the shoulder.
"Win or lose—what’s a match without risk? Bet ten Galleons, win back thirty. This kind of chance doesn’t come every day!"
Sirius was about to reply when Remus interrupted.
"Good morning, Sirius Black. Bagman."
Seeing Remus and Wade, Sirius’s smile softened into something genuine. Bagman, however, began to sweat.
"Haha, who is it but Remus? Of course, of course—you two would definitely come to watch the match!" Bagman chuckled nervously, backing away. "Speaking of which, Ponterne just tried to bet me a moment ago! I’ve got to go talk to him! See you later, friends!"
Before anyone could respond, he hurried off, bustling away in a flurry of urgency.
"Strange," Sirius said, teasing Remus. "I’ve never seen someone afraid of you but not of me."
"Did you sneak into his house under a full moon?"
"What? No! Of course not!" Remus glanced around before whispering, "I saw him trying to borrow money from Machionni. He’s practically broke—this match is his last chance to get back on his feet!"
"Gambling?" Sirius scoffed. "That’s madness. Doesn’t he think about what happens if he loses?"
"If he thought long-term, he wouldn’t be a gambler in the first place," Remus replied.
While the two men talked, Harry nodded at Wade, and the two of them stepped into the tent.
Sirius’s tent looked impressive from the outside—inside, it was like a palace. It even had two levels, complete with a bathroom, a kitchen, and four spacious bedrooms, one for each of them, with plenty of room to spare.
Wade’s bedroom had already been prepared—fresh sheets and blankets, still faintly smelling of sunlight.
Kreacher stood by the door, bowing deeply. "Kreacher is preparing lunch. What would you like for noon, Master Wade?"
"Steak will do, thanks, Kreacher." Wade waved casually. As Kreacher hurried off with his spatula to the kitchen, Wade turned to Harry. "You brought Kreacher with you?"
"This wasn’t our idea," Harry said. "It was Kreacher’s insistence. He claimed that without him, Sirius Black could only barely keep us from starving."
"Then why are you still outside cooking?" Wade asked.
"Just for fun," Harry shrugged. "Sirius thinks it adds to the camping feel."
In truth, Harry found it fascinating. The Dursleys had never taken him camping—so this was his first real chance to experience something he’d only ever seen on television. He wanted to test everything.
Wade had just arrived—Harry had already been in the camp for nearly a week. Otherwise, Wade might have seen the Savior bouncing around with childlike excitement.
Wade explored the tent briefly, then returned to the open space in front.
The fire was now burning brightly. Kreacher had skewered some meat and vegetables, plus two fish, which they could roast over the flames.
Wade and Harry sat on stools, rotating long sticks to turn the food, watching the meat sizzle and crackle under the fire’s kiss. They chatted about holiday assignments and their recent lives.
"...I’ve read every book in Potions class," Harry said. "Don’t want Snape giving me trouble again. But I still haven’t written my Divination essay. Though I doubt Professor Trelawney would even read it seriously."
"Did you finish it at the Dursleys’?" Wade asked.
"Yeah. Sirius lives nearby—Uncle Vernon couldn’t just hide all my magic books." Harry grumbled.
As long as Harry kept his scar hidden, the two of them blending in with the other students were completely unremarkable. Sirius, on the other hand, was a magnet—drawn to by waves of attention.
Wade noticed people constantly approaching him—Ministry officials, Pure-Blood wizards, old classmates, even young witches drawn by fame.
Wade turned to Harry. "After we eat, we should go find Michael and the others?"
"Perfect!" Harry nodded eagerly. "Somewhere quiet."
(End of Chapter)
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