Chapter 559: IlvermornyArrive
The entire morning, no one had any focus in class. In Herbology, Anthony nearly burst a bubblepod in his eagerness. During History of Magic, no one paid attention to Professor Binns’ monotonous, soporific lecture—though no one was asleep either. Instead, notes fluttered wildly through the air like startled birds. Ancient Runes remained as relentlessly difficult as ever, as if the professor hadn’t even heard about the Tournament. Students who weren’t paying attention were punished with double the usual essay length.
Wade returned to the present and headed to Divination class—only to find it a complete disaster.
Midway through the lesson, Professor Trelawney, who had been guiding students to gaze into their crystal balls, suddenly burst into tears without warning. She clutched her scarf tightly, burying her face in it, and let out a piercing cry. Her frail frame shook violently.
"Professor, are you alright?" Lavender Brown from Gryffindor asked hesitantly.
Trelawney sobbed for a long while before wiping her nose with a handkerchief and speaking in a hoarse, sorrowful voice:
"I saw… I saw the fate of the sinner…"
She rolled her eyes wildly, her voice trembling unnaturally:
"Ludo Bagman… his wealth will crumble like sand… his lies will be met with cruel retribution… all he holds dear will vanish into nothing!"
Wade heard the venom in her tone and immediately knew this wasn’t a true prophecy. But the other students were visibly shaken—every single one, even the most level-headed, froze in place.
"Ludo Bagman…" Harry swallowed hard, glancing at Ron. "I think he was the World Cup host?"
Ron nodded gravely. "He’s also my dad’s colleague."
"Professor?" Padma’s sister whispered, trembling with awe. "Is this… a prophecy?"
"Yes… yes…" Trelawney dabbed at her tears, her voice breaking. "It’s so… heartbreaking… he’s going to die so horribly…"
The classroom erupted in hushed murmurs.
"But I saw him in the newspaper this morning!" someone muttered nervously. "If Ludo Bagman really died, there’d be news, right?"
"Idiot!" another student said firmly. "This is a prophecy! Professor Trelawney saw the future with her inner eye!"
Trelawney seemed utterly broken, unable to speak. She was lost in her own grief, and the rest of the class was impossible to continue.
When she finally calmed down, the bell rang. With a raspy voice, she dismissed the class.
"I never knew Professor Trelawney was so close to Bagman," one student remarked as they filed out. "She’s mourning as if her lover were dying—even though the event hasn’t even happened yet."
"What do you know?" Lavender Brown insisted, defending her favorite professor. "She’s deeply compassionate! Anyone would feel sorrow seeing someone they care about die!"
—Is that so?
Wade turned back just in time to see Professor Trelawney wiping her eyes, muttering softly under her breath. Her lips formed the words clearly:
"Liar… he’ll die without a grave…"
Wade: …
Poor Professor Trelawney. Probably lost money betting on the World Cup, fooled by Bagman’s Boggart coin trick.
He shook his head, a mix of sympathy and amusement stirring within him. As he stepped out the door, he paused suddenly, glancing at the large crystal ball sitting beside the desk.
He remembered last semester’s final exam—how he’d casually made up a prophecy on the spot.
—Wait… was there a bit of responsibility here too?
But then he reconsidered. His prophecy hadn’t been wrong. And he hadn’t encouraged Trelawney to gamble. So the real fault lay with Bagman, the fraud. And secondly, with the professor—greedy and gullible.
As for innocent Wade Gray? What possible connection could he have?
He pushed down the strange, uneasy feeling in his chest and walked away.
…
By evening, the bell rang. Students rushed to don their cloaks and streamed out of the castle. Heads of house and prefects organized them into lines, while everyone hurried to fix their appearances one last time.
Professor Flitwick stood atop a high staircase, his eyes scanning his students.
"Mr. White, your hair looks like you’ve just fought a duel—why not comb it?"
"I know you’re diligent, Miss Jones, but now isn’t the time to read. Let me return that book to where it belongs."
With a soft gasp, the book flew from her hands and soared back to the Ravenclaw Common Room.
"Mind your appearance, children. Be polite. Of course," Flitwick added cheerfully, "but don’t be overly humble—Hogwarts is the best."
A ripple of quiet laughter spread through the crowd—proud, joyful, and full of spirit. But then Flitwick caught Professor McGonagall’s sharp glance. Instantly, he straightened, his expression turning serious.
Once all the students were lined up in front of the castle, night had fallen. The moon hung high, and the air grew colder.
"Time’s almost here," Michael muttered. "Who do you think will arrive first?"
The words had barely left his lips when a crimson three-story bus materialized abruptly from thin air. It raced across the still surface of the Black Lake, churning up massive waves behind it.
With a sharp turn and a screeching halt, the bus stopped before the castle entrance. Neon lights on the front flashed: Ilvermorny Express Bus.
The door opened, and a lean, middle-aged wizard stepped down calmly. He wore deep red robes, his eyes sharp and piercing.
But in an instant, his face lit up with warm enthusiasm:
"Long time no see, my dear Albus! How’ve you been?"
"Seeing you is the best thing that’s happened all day, Egilbert," Dumbledore replied, embracing him. "Welcome to Hogwarts, and to your students."
As the group of students filed down the bus, they wore red-and-blue uniforms, their faces pale, some even grimacing as if they’d been tortured by the journey.
"Looks like I’m first," Egilbert said, glancing around. "Great! I knew our bus was fast."
"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded. Harry gave the new arrivals a sympathetic glance.
Wade studied the students, his gaze lingering briefly on one particular boy before turning to look up at the sky.
A massive carriage was swiftly crossing above the Forbidden Forest, speeding toward Hogwarts. Twelve silver-maned horses soared through the air, their manes glinting under the moonlight.
(End of Chapter)
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