https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-531-Little-Barty-Crouch-s-Escape/13685642/
Chapter 532: Squirrel
Remus Lupin’s return meant the chaotic mascots had been brought under control, and other adult wizards were gradually returning to their tents. Arthur Weasley followed closely behind Remus, stepping through the door. Seeing his children unharmed, he exhaled deeply in relief.
“Thank goodness you’re all safe. Otherwise, how would I ever face your mother?”
“Dad, was the wizard who cursed the mascots caught?” Ron asked.
“No, not at all. In fact, we still don’t even know who did it!” Mr. Weasley replied.
“Where’s Bill and Charlie?” Ginny Weasley rose on tiptoe, peering past them.
“Bill’s injured. Charlie’s looking after him,” Mr. Weasley said, waving them forward. “Come on, let’s head back. Get some rest—few hours of sleep, then we’ll grab the Portkey early tomorrow and go home.”
The Weasley children, still weary, stood up and followed their father out. As George passed Wade near the exit, he winked.
“Relax. We’ve all agreed—no one’s saying a word about your cabinet.”
The others mimed swearing an oath with their fingers across their hearts. Wade smiled and nodded.
In truth, after his visit to Mr. Flamel, he had no idea how Nicolas Flamel had contacted the Ministry of Magic—but somehow, Wade’s cabinet, enchanted with an Invisible Expansion Charm “for alchemical research,” had already been registered in every wizarding ministry across the world.
So even if someone discovered the existence of the hidden closet space, it wasn’t illegal.
Of course, the Ministry officials had no idea how large the cabinet truly was. To them, it probably seemed no bigger than a small storage room.
Soon, other elders arrived to collect their children, and the adults left one by one, faces etched with tension and exhaustion. They barely exchanged greetings before silently departing.
Finally, only Remus Lupin, Wade, Harry, and Hermione remained.
Before heading to bed, Harry asked, “When will Sirius Black come back?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s tracked down another Dark Wizard and gone after him,” Remus said, his brow furrowed with quiet concern. “He hasn’t contacted me yet. But as soon as I hear from him, I’ll tell you right away.”
Harry sighed, unable to help but worry about his godfather. “Remus, you should get some rest too.”
“Alright,” Remus said softly, smiling as he watched the children head to their respective bedrooms.
That night, though utterly drained, few managed to sleep. Wade lay on his bed fully clothed, tossing and turning. From somewhere beyond the tent walls, faint, distant cries echoed—broken, mournful.
Not everyone could find peace. The violent Boggart and the Bride of the Bulgarian Team had been merciless. In the end, some had lost loved ones.
With the Ministry of Magic unable to produce enough Portkeys on short notice, only a handful of wizards had both the ability and the clearance to craft them. The priority was clear: get the wounded to the hospital first.
As a result, the lightly injured, the traumatized, and the families of the deceased were left behind in this nightmare-like camp, temporarily housed and cared for by Ministry personnel.
The crying continued—sporadic, raw, and relentless. It buzzed in Wade’s skull like a trapped insect.
He turned over several times, convinced everyone else had fallen asleep. Then he rose from the bed, went downstairs, and poured himself a Butterbeer. He hesitated, then set it aside and instead picked up a can of coffee.
Sipping it slowly, he stepped outside and sat in the same spot where he’d spoken with Bill earlier. He looked up at the sky. Thin clouds obscured the stars, but a few faint pinpricks still glimmered through.
Hoo… hoo… hoo…
A low, slow hoot came from afar. No other animal responded. The owl’s call rang out—deep, mournful, and utterly alone.
It stirred something deep within him—a quiet, indescribable sorrow, like a slow, invisible claw gripping his heart. Cold seeped into his bones.
Wade thought back to the original story of this night. He couldn’t recall anyone being killed, though—probably not. What stuck in his mind was the Dark Mark rising into the sky.
But now…
Just as he was lost in thought, something caught his eye. A flicker—something sudden and unexpected.
He blinked, focused. Before him, on a patch of overgrown grass, a squirrel emerged. Round, cautious eyes scanned him. Its ears perked forward, tiny claws folded neatly against its chest.
Wade: “…?”
He rubbed his eyes, looked again—then froze.
The squirrel had boldly darted forward, its fluffy tail held high, its expression serious. It began chattering in rapid, sharp little squeaks.
Then, without warning, it dropped to its front paws and scratched a message into the dirt:
“I am Sirius Black. I’ve been turned into this. Take me to Dumbledore.”
Wade: “…?”
For a split second, he felt a pang of regret. He could pretend not to recognize it—grab it, play a prank… maybe even give it to Harry as a pet. That would be fun.
But as the temptation to tease warred with his conscience, the squirrel stopped chattering. It looked up at him, its dark eyes steady.
Wade exhaled. He reached out, gently scooped it up, and held it against his chest.
“You’re really Sirius Black?” he asked.
The squirrel nodded solemnly, its tail swaying slowly behind.
“I know. I’ll take you to Dumbledore right now.”
He tucked the squirrel onto his shoulder, then slipped the Communication Pea into his ear.
“Contact Albus Dumbledore.”
A moment later, the familiar signal confirmed the connection had been made.
…
“Boom!”
“Look at what your Ireland team mascots have done! Is this a performance—or murder?”
“They were beloved at home, peaceful during the matches. They only went mad because someone inside tampered with our beloved mascots!”
“Exactly! The British Ministry of Magic failed in their safety duties—this is your fault! You owe us an explanation!”
“Our mascots never attacked spectators!”
“That’s right—they weren’t even allowed to compete!”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen! We shouldn’t be arguing about blame right now. We need to figure out how to fix this—and more importantly, who cast the curse on the mascots.”
“In my entire career, I’ve never seen anything like this! We’ve lost twelve Brides of the Bulgarian Team! Do you have any idea what that means?”
Wade hadn’t even reached the massive, ornate tent when the shouting erupted from within.
Dumbledore stepped out swiftly, his face still weary, his expression resigned.
(End of Chapter)
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