https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-657-The-Transformation-of-the-Dark-Wizard/13685867/
Chapter 656: The Wave
Hogsmeade Weekend had never been busier. The Wizard village was now thronged with life, its narrow streets alive with vendors from every corner of the magical world whenever students were allowed to leave the castle grounds. With Apparition unrestricted across the territory, Wade strolled down the cobbled path, watching in amusement as merchants in tiny carts descended from the sky, landing unsteadily before their enchanted loudspeakers began blaring announcements.
It was like the Quidditch World Cup Camp all over again—tents had sprung up across the open fields beyond the village, swaying gently in the spring breeze. Wind chimes hung from their flaps tinkled softly in the air.
Among the booths, Wade spotted slowly rotating “Holographic 3D” portraits of Viktor Krum, Harry Potter, Natalia Petrova—and himself. In fact, the image of “Wade Gray” dominated half the camp, with two-thirds of them depicting him as a Merperson.
“Look at this,” Michael nudged Wade, grinning. “You’re a celebrity now, Wade!”
Wade shot him a deadpan look, then instinctively patted his chest to confirm his badge was still in place. Only then did he exhale in relief.
Hogwarts was like a self-contained ivory tower, sealing away all the conflicts, rivalries, power struggles, and noise of the outside world. Inside its walls, students could study in quiet peace.
Even during the Eleven-School Tournament, when students from other magic schools arrived, the initial excitement quickly faded. The three champions—Harry, Cedric, and Wade—were not the showy type. After the second challenge, Harry and Cedric had been surrounded by their housemates for a while. But Wade had spent the entire week avoiding everyone, and soon enough, the students who’d wanted to discuss the event lost interest. Life returned to normal, as if nothing had changed.
But once outside the school, the true scale of the wave stirred by the Tournament became undeniable.
The entire event had been broadcast live. Every detail, every magical ripple, every perfectly timed spell—exposed under the gaze of millions. No illusions. No luck. Only raw skill mattered.
Under such circumstances, the audience’s enthusiasm was enormous. After the first challenge, it had been Christmas and winter—people stayed indoors, and the excitement hadn’t fully surfaced. But now, with spring warming the air, Hogsmeade Weekend had become a pilgrimage for fans.
Reporters from the wizarding press prowled the streets with cameras, eyes gleaming, hunting every young wizard who passed through the crowd.
Krum, utterly unprepared for the transformation in his fame, had stepped outside with careless confidence. Now he was trapped in a sea of admirers, his face darkening with irritation.
“Move aside! I have an appointment—let me through!” he snapped, shoving people away.
But the reporters only grew more excited. “An appointment? With a girl? Did you meet someone special during the Tournament, Mr. Krum? Can you tell us about her?”
Krum was about to explode—but his ears betrayed him, turning red.
“Hey! What are you doing harassing students? Dumbledore didn’t authorize this!” Hagrid thundered forward like a tank, shoving the reporters aside and rescuing the flustered Krum in seconds.
Even the eliminated champions received some attention. Fleur, in particular, was a magnet for cameras—her grim expression only made fans more eager to capture it.
But most of all, people were searching for Wade. Not just reporters—his new fans were everywhere. Compared to the other champions, the public recognized his strength far more clearly.
Wade saw portraits of himself hung in booths across the village, and even small wooden figurines of him—complete with tiny wands—were clipped to belts and pockets. The little carvings even walked around, elegantly waving their wands.
Who on earth made a statue of my human form? Wade thought, irritation flaring in his chest.
Then, like a whisper in his ear, a familiar voice echoed in his mind:
> “We might need to use your image for promotion… Don’t worry, I won’t underpay you—no Knut will be missing.”
Who else could it be? Only Machionni.
He remembered Machionni casually mentioning it after their discussion about the miniature human figures. At the time, Wade assumed he’d just slap on the usual “Wade Gray—Invented & Certified” label, as usual. He’d nodded without asking—after all, that was how Machionni always operated.
Now, thinking back, the recent financial reports had shown a suspicious spike. But since Remus had already reviewed them, Wade hadn’t given it another thought.
Then, the night before leaving, he’d received a message from Antoine:
> “If you don’t want to be treated like a monkey on display the second you step outside, consider a facial disguise. Of course, if you like the spotlight, dress up nicely. And by the way—your formal robe from the Ball looked excellent.”
Wade stared blankly. What?
Still, he followed the advice—because, as the saying went, “Listen to good advice, and you’ll eat well.” He didn’t need Polyjuice Potion or a Human Transformation Spell. He simply modified his Soft-Light Badge.
A clever play of light and filters could elevate anyone’s appearance. Conversely, it could also make someone look utterly ordinary—almost as if their eye color had changed.
Wade had agreed to meet his friends in the morning. But when he stood nearby for several minutes, they didn’t recognize him. Instead, they whispered:
> “Where’s Wade?”
> “He must’ve gotten lost in research again… forgot the time.”
Wade picked up a palm-sized “Mermaid Wade” figurine from a shopping cart. A familiar Spell Mark—classic Aslan Magical Workshop style—glowed faintly on its base.
He raised an eyebrow silently. So that’s how it is.
Machionni really knew how to seize every opportunity for profit.
A vendor in a brown woolen hat greeted him enthusiastically. “Want a Mermaid Wade? This one’s the most popular right now! Buy one, and I’ll throw in a Water Amulet!”
Michael snorted. Wade felt heat rise to his face. He tossed the figurine back with a sharp “No.”
“Wait—I’ll take one!” Theo instantly pulled out his wallet, snatching the figurine from the vendor with a grin. “It’s a rare keepsake!”
“Hey, Theo!” Wade protested.
“Very refined,” Liam said, examining a “Mermaid Wade” and another with a scorpion puppet. “I’ll take both. How much?”
Michael was laughing so hard he could barely speak. He dropped a Galleon on the counter and grabbed both versions without waiting.
The vendor beamed, wrapping them up while winking. “Smart choices, young wizards! You’re clearly Hogwarts students. Wade Gray’s the favorite to win—go place a bet over there, and you could make a small profit.”
“Theo paused, confused. “Why not a big profit?”
“Oh, you don’t know?” the vendor said quickly. “The higher the chance of winning, the lower the odds. If you want a real gamble, go with Salem’s Hope Cruz. But honestly, Cedric’s odds aren’t bad either.”
After leaving the booth, Michael said, “Cedric’s a shame. Injured in the first challenge—his rating took a big hit.”
“Not really,” Theo countered, still calm. “Tournament results aren’t decided by fans. And… well, Cedric’s chances of winning aren’t very high.”
They wandered over to the betting tent. The open fields were now a maze of colorful booths, each with a different theme. After asking several students, Michael finally led them to a circular tent.
Outside, portraits of all remaining champions hung from the entrance. Inside, a dozen students huddled around a table, whispering anxiously.
> “This is all my pocket money… if I lose, I won’t even be able to afford a Feather Quill…”
The student slammed his pouch onto the table, then looked around with a mix of determination and dread.
The air was thick with tension and the scent of incense—faintly reminiscent of the Divination classroom.
Wade stopped at the entrance. The others rushed in, eager and excited.
After a few minutes, they emerged. Michael was stuffing his pouch back into his pocket.
“Did you bet?” Wade asked.
Michael and Theo nodded. Liam shook his head. “I promised my mom I wouldn’t get involved.”
He didn’t stop them, though.
“Theo said firmly, “You’re definitely going to win. I didn’t bet much.”
Michael bounced toward him, grinning. “You know what they’re betting on? A whole dozen different options just for you!”
> “One group bets how long it’ll take you to finish the Tournament. Another bets how many opponents you’ll eliminate yourself. And another bets whether you’ll be forced to stop using your Magic Puppet!”
“Seriously, Wade,” Michael pressed, “you could control the outcome. Maximize the odds.”
“Have you even checked the rules?” Wade replied dryly. “Last World Cup, Bagman paid with Boggart’s Magical Coins!”
Michael paused, then grinned. “Then I’ll pull you in. I don’t think he’ll fool your eyes.”
Hogsmeade was livelier than ever—chaotic, vibrant, alive.
After a full round of shopping for necessities, the four split up before lunch. Michael had a date with Daphne. Theo’s parents had come to sell goods in the village. Liam was meeting some Hufflepuff friends.
As for Wade? He had his own appointment.
Following the magic direction, he found a tent at the edge of the camp. It looked dull and worn—faded canvas, patched seams, a copper wind vane crookedly stuck into the top. The rusted needle turned slowly in the breeze, creaking faintly.
Wade studied it closely before pulling back the curtain.
Inside, it was nothing like the outside.
Luxurious and spacious, the tent was fully furnished. Silver candlesticks hovered in midair, each holding an Ever-Burning Flame.
A serious-looking man sat at the table, flipping through documents. Antoine lounged nearby, holding a kettle, slowly pouring water into a filter cup. Steam curled upward, carrying the rich scent of coffee.
Hearing the wind chime at the door, he looked up and smiled. “Just in time. Want candy and milk in your coffee?”
“Of course. Thanks.”
Wade sat in the only empty chair, eyeing the other man.
“Long time no see, Dreian.”
Gunter Dreian—right-hand man to Gellert Grindelwald—closed the file and looked up. “Your last letter gave Mr. Grindelwald a lot to think about. Some things are too complex to convey through letters. So I’m here to speak face to face.”
Wade leaned back, fingers idly tracing the armrest. “So, what’s Mr. Grindelwald’s verdict?”
Dreian leaned forward slightly, his voice low. “He admires your vision—your attempt to peacefully merge the two worlds. But he also asked me to caution you, Wade: history cannot change its nature through kindness alone.”
He sat back, stirred the coffee with a silver spoon, and placed it before Wade. “Muggles fear wizards deeply. We might call it greed. Honey can soften their guard—but it can’t erase their desire, nor change humanity’s fundamental tendency toward violence and conquest.”
Wade took a sip, blowing gently at the steam. “So… Mr. Grindelwald thinks my ideas are flawed?”
“No,” Dreian said. “He agrees you’re on the right path. But to achieve your goal, bloodshed and conflict are inevitable.”
“He hopes you’re mentally prepared. Don’t entertain naive dreams. Muggles are driven by interest and emotion—but sometimes, they’re so foolish, it’s almost unbearable.”
“I know,” Wade said, nodding. “Billions of people. Millions of geniuses. Countless fools. Muggle society isn’t a single entity. Their interests are tangled in ways far more complex than ours.”
“Exactly,” Dreian said, eyes narrowing slightly. “As for your improved potion—Mr. Grindelwald has already begun development. Regardless, it’s an excellent starting point.”
(End of Chapter)
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