Chapter 617: Stone Necklace
“Sorry, Wade,” Fred wiped tears from his laughing eyes. “We’re still fine-tuning the effects of the Gold Finch Biscuit.”
George turned to the others. “Don’t worry—there’s only one Gold Finch Biscuit in the plate. Everything else is perfectly normal. You can eat freely.”
But no one dared to eat another biscuit, or even trust the other food. They were now suspicious of every sandwich, fearing a hidden Gold Finch Biscuit might be lurking inside.
“This magic is fascinating,” Wade said, brushing several feathers off his robe with interest. “But don’t you think the goldfinch that appears is a bit too large? And the transformation time is way too short—practically useless in real situations.”
“Wade!” Hermione called out sharply, her voice cutting through the laughter. “Stop upgrading their prank products!”
“Exactly,” George nodded. “This is a prank product. We don’t need realism—just laughter, right?”
Fred grinned. “Totally correct, brother! If the transformation were too real, it’d be boring. Who’d buy a dull magic trick?”
“Actually,” George added, “we’re working on a new product. After graduation, we’re opening a Weasley Twins joke shop in Diagon Alley—better than Zonko’s, for sure!”
“We’ve already saved enough money,” Fred said. “But if we dropped out now, Mum would have a fit!”
“Just two years left,” Wade said. “Stick with it, Fred!”
“You too, George!”
The twins kept trading jokes. Everyone else joined in, laughing—except Hermione.
Wade idly twirled the slender feather in his hand, his eyes alight with thoughtful sparks.
If this instant transformation magic could be refined, it could have surprising applications in real combat…
And a single biscuit could do what months—or even years—of dangerous, life-threatening training as an Animagus couldn’t.
In other words, if he wanted to hide his Animagus identity…
The Gold Finch Biscuit—no, Falcon Biscuit—was the perfect excuse.
Wade stroked his chin, lost in thought.
“Uh… Wade…” Neville gently tapped Liam’s shoulder, switching seats, then hesitantly approached Wade.
“What is it?” Wade asked.
“Um… I was wondering… about the Daydream Quill…” Neville took a deep breath. His robe sleeve trembled slightly on his lap.
“I mean… if I write down my dream with the quill… is there any way… to make someone else… experience it too?”
His eyes shone with quiet, trembling hope.
Wade glanced around the chaotic Great Hall, then stood. “Let’s go outside and talk.”
“Okay,” Neville exhaled with relief, quickly following.
Theo turned, watching Liam. “What are they doing?”
“Don’t know…” Liam shrugged. “But it must be really important to Neville. He looked nervous.”
Theo’s first thought: “Malfoy’s bullying him again?”
“I don’t think so,” Liam said, scanning the Slytherin long table. “No sign of Malfoy. He’s barely even visible this term. If he’s not being bullied himself, he’s got no energy to bully anyone else.”
Hearing this, Harry suddenly realized—he hadn’t seen Malfoy and his gang chasing him around the castle in a long while.
…
The noise of the Great Hall faded into the distance as Wade and Neville walked across the snow-covered grounds outside the castle. Thick snowdrifts crunched underfoot.
No one else was around. At last, Neville could speak openly about why he’d come.
“My parents… they’re not well,” he said quietly. “Because of some reasons… they’ve lost their minds. They’re in the long-term care ward at St. Mungo’s. Sometimes… I don’t even recognize them.”
Neville didn’t know Wade already knew about his parents’ condition. He didn’t want to parade their suffering. He spoke in a calm tone, trying to make it sound ordinary.
But even so, the words felt like ripping open an old wound.
If it weren’t for Wade—someone who’d always been there for him—Neville didn’t think he’d ever have the courage to tell a single classmate.
His grandmother always said they were heroes. That there was nothing to hide. That he should stand tall and face it bravely. But Neville… he just didn’t want people to know.
His voice trembled. “The healers at St. Mungo’s say… recovery is unlikely. But if they could just… feel happiness in their dreams… I think… I think…”
He choked up, unable to finish.
Wade glanced sideways, not looking at Neville’s face.
“The Daydream Quill only affects the dreamer. The connection forms the moment the ink touches paper. Sharing or transferring the dream… it’s nearly impossible.”
Neville’s shoulders sagged. “Sorry… I thought… maybe…”
“But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing you can do,” Wade said, gazing at Neville’s head. “It just means you might have to take some risks.”
“What kind?” Neville perked up, eyes bright. “I’m not afraid of danger!”
Then he paused, realization dawning too late. “You… you know why my parents… became like this, don’t you?”
“Whatever it is,” Wade said softly, “if it’s a mental condition, there’s still hope.”
He saw the sudden spark in Neville’s eyes and hesitated. Then, slowly, he uncurled the stone necklace wrapped around his wrist.
He handed it to Neville. His heart ached a little at letting go, but he did.
“This necklace lets you enter your parents’ Spirit World,” Wade said. “You can talk to them. Try to reach the part of them that’s still hidden inside.”
He whispered the spell, then added: “But everyone’s Spirit World is unique. If their inner world is already shattered… I don’t know what you’ll find in there. It could even harm you.”
“So think carefully,” Wade continued. “Have someone you trust wait nearby—ready to wake you up, just in case. Understand?”
“I understand!” Neville nodded fiercely. He clutched the necklace tightly, as if it were his only hope.
He didn’t wait a second. He turned and sprinted toward the Gryffindor Tower, eager to tell his grandmother the good news.
Wade turned away, touching his bare wrist. A quiet sadness settled over him.
He was about to head back to the Umbrella Room when suddenly, he heard frantic footsteps.
Neville returned, face flushed, breathless, his hair wild from running.
“Uh… Wade…” He fumbled, flustered. “Could you… write down the spell for the necklace? I… I’ve already forgotten it…”
Seeing his embarrassment, Wade couldn’t help but smile.
“Alright. Be careful not to lose it.”
He conjured a piece of parchment, then wrote the spell and pronunciation tips in smooth, clear script.
Neville grabbed it with both hands, as if it were a treasure, stuffed it into his pocket, and thanked him again—this time with a lighter, joyful step, racing toward the tower.
At the corner, he suddenly turned back, flashing Wade a radiant smile—the first truly bright expression Wade had ever seen on his face.
(End of Chapter)
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