Chapter 571: Celebrating Party
The bronze eagle-shaped door knocker chimed with a melodious voice:
"I am silent, yet I make emperors kneel;
I have no form, yet I am sharper than any sword;
Heavier than gold, yet lighter than a feather;
The wise seek me, the foolish waste me.
— What am I?"
It was a simple riddle. Wade answered without hesitation:
"Time."
"Correct," whispered the door knocker. The wooden panel creaked open, spilling warm flame-light and candlelight into the corridor, along with a wave of cheerful noise.
"Wade’s back!"
No one knew who shouted it first, but instantly, the crowd at the entrance surged forward, pulling him inside. Arms were raised, and someone hoisted Wade’s arm high.
"Our hero!"
"Oh oh oh oh!"
The entire common room erupted in cheers. Wade had never realized how many Ravenclaw students there were—so many, so loud, so alive.
The wooden panel remained open for a few seconds before slowly closing. On the butterbeer-damp carpet, a faint trail of footprints lingered—evidently made by someone who had carefully avoided the crowd, making their way to a quiet corner near the bookshelves.
Two girls, who had been quietly eating cake by the horned chair, suddenly seemed to feel the wave of celebration. Without a word, they dropped their cakes and dashed into the throng.
First-years pressed to the front, waving handmade flags adorned with ravens and golden flames. Older students stood slightly farther back, smiling approvingly and applauding. Fourth-years were the most excited—Terry had already opened several bottles of butterbeer, handing them out to everyone.
Anthony pushed his way to the front, slinging an arm around Wade’s neck.
"I knew it! I knew it had to be you!"
"Come on, we all knew!" Prefect Eckmo laughed, raising his bottle. "Let’s toast Wade—our chosen champion!"
"Cheers!"
Everyone raised their glasses. Even the youngest wizards, unable to drink, strained to lift their juice bottles as high as they could.
Michael frowned slightly, preparing to take the beer from Wade’s hand—only to find him raising it normally, grinning, and shouting, "Cheers!"
Then he tilted his head back and drained the bottle in one go.
"Oh oh oh—!"
The common room roared again. People surged toward Wade. Instantly, another bottle was pressed into his hand, and someone nearby desperately begged for his signature.
"Wade, will the Spell Study Society keep going?" someone asked, concerned.
"Of course," Wade said, taking a long swig of butterbeer and grinning. "As long as you want to join, it’ll always be open."
"What’s the first challenge? How can we help?" Lisha cried, practically bouncing with eagerness to become his assistant.
"The details are confidential," Wade said. "No, wait—actually, I don’t even know them myself. The referee hasn’t told me. I won’t know until the competition begins."
In truth, he doubted anyone had actually listened. Before he could say more, more food was shoved into his hands.
"Have some cake, Wade. Or maybe you’d prefer a meat pie?"
"Thanks, but I’m not hungry."
Amidst the chaos of voices, Wade remained at the center of it all, effortlessly navigating the crowd. Empty bottles piled up quickly on tables and the floor.
"You should come to our banquets more often!" someone called. "Wade, you were born for this!"
Wade just smiled, saying nothing.
Laughter and voices bounced off the curved ceiling. Butterbeer foam sprayed everywhere. Someone used magic to make the empty bottles dance gently in front of the fireplace, creating a surprisingly pleasant little tune.
Soon, students began dancing in the open space in the middle—skirts swirling, steps light and joyful, laughter tumbling like raindrops.
But Michael stayed apart. He watched Wade in the center of the crowd, then quietly observed the surroundings.
He noticed Luna, wearing a fox-lady hairpin and thick glasses, walking toward the back of the horned chair—then suddenly stopping, as if bumping into something invisible. She turned and sat on a different chair nearby.
Michael raised an eyebrow and walked toward the corner. Before he reached her, Luna spoke.
"Why not join? Are you worried someone slipped a fox-lure egg into your drink? My father says they actually help digestion."
"I’m not worried about that," came Wade’s voice, seemingly from an empty chair. "And my digestion’s perfectly fine."
Michael exhaled in relief. He stepped forward.
"I just felt something… strange. Who was pretending to drink for you back there?"
"My magic puppet," Wade said lazily, still invisible beneath a Disguise Charm. "Doesn’t it look convincing?"
"Indeed," Michael said, glancing again. "I almost didn’t notice. Luna, how did you see through it?"
"Oh," Luna said casually, "I just noticed a few disturbing flies."
She tilted her head toward the crowd. "A hidden figure in the middle of a celebration? So conspicuous, yet invisible. Isn’t that more interesting than all the noise?"
Michael knew every girl in Ravenclaw—yes, even the one known as the "mad girl" Luna. He also knew that when she said something incomprehensible, the best response was silence.
Ask too much, and your thoughts would unravel, pulled into some strange, dreamlike realm.
He picked up a hazelnut from the table and popped it into his mouth. "So why not just go back to your dorm if you don’t want to be part of this?"
"Well," Wade said, propping his chin on his hand, "I want solitude, but I also love the joy of this party. So I’ll just be a quiet backdrop—enjoying this pleasant magnetic field of happiness."
Michael smiled knowingly. "Fair enough. This place is your royal viewing seat. I’m off to dance!"
He set down his glass, approached a dark-haired girl standing alone by the bookshelves, bowed slightly, and soon pulled her into the dance.
Luna watched Wade thoughtfully.
"I heard of a kind of quiet dew. Drink it, and even in the heart of a bustling city, you’d feel as though you were in a forest. I think you need it."
"Maybe not," Wade laughed. "When I want forest air, I’ll just go straight to the Forbidden Forest."
He hesitated. "Lately… have your things been disappearing again?"
"Oh…" Luna blinked slowly. "No one’s hidden my books or clothes lately. My shoes stay on the floor now—no more running around."
"I think I heard someone still calling you that nickname," Michael said.
"The mad girl?" Luna shrugged, shaking her head. A fine silver dust fluttered down from her fox-fur hair. "They think I’m odd. But I don’t mind. I don’t have relationships, and I’m sorry for them. They can’t see the wonders beyond the ordinary. It’s not their fault."
Wade smiled.
Sometimes, he wondered—did Luna see the world the same way he did?
But that question would never have an answer.
Not even Polyjuice Potion could make him think like someone else.
(End of Chapter)
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