Chapter 667: Within the Field of View, Outside the Line of Sight
The letters, evenly slanted like wheat swaying in the wind, appeared smoothly one after another across the parchment.
【Antoine: Old Barty Crouch is also suspicious. His subordinate mentioned that Crouch recently took an extended leave—and only just returned to the Ministry of Magic.】
"An extended leave?" Wade murmured, voice low, a flicker of concern in his tone.
【Wade: Did anything seem off after he came back? Like he’d become unusually worn down?】
【Antoine: Not physically, no. But he’s said to have changed completely—uninterested in his duties, distracted during Wizengamot sessions. Last Monday’s trial was a mess—he even misnamed the suspect.】
【Antoine: That kind of mistake would be forgivable in Fudge. But when Crouch made it? The whole chamber was stunned.】
【Antoine: Someone inside says Crouch’s been losing hope lately—thinking about retiring… How’s that intelligence for you? Helpful?】
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows across Wade’s face.
He stood in the corridor, silent for a long moment, then finally responded:
【Very helpful. Thank you, Antoine.】
The quill scratched softly against the parchment. In Wade’s mind, fleeting images of recent encounters flashed—
a blurred figure by the Black Lake;
Dumbledore appearing in the midst of mystery;
Professor Mor, his smile unchanged, warm as ever;
Flitwick, standing on a chair during the Arrangement Stands, waving his wand with a serious frown;
McGonagall, her expression perpetually skeptical;
Moody, eyes sharp and suspicious;
Snape, his gaze cold and cutting.
The faces swam in his mind, blurring together. Wade descended the stairs slowly, thoughts rising and vanishing like smoke—each one quickly smothered before it could take shape.
Suddenly, a voice emerged from the shadows.
"Hey. What’s with that funeral-face of yours?"
Wade lifted his head. Draco Malfoy leaned against the railing at the stair’s end, golden hair catching the light like spun silk. His school robes, identical in cut to every other student’s, looked unusually well-made. A smirk played on his pale lips—familiar, mocking, the same disdainful mask of the old Malfoy heir. The fear that had haunted him earlier was gone, replaced by that icy arrogance.
Wade merely raised an eyebrow. "I'm thinking."
"Thinking?" Draco exaggeratedly arched a brow. "The undefeated Champion actually has a problem he can't solve?" He tapped the railing idly. "Would I be honored to hear it?"
Wade hesitated. Malfoy had been raised in Slytherin’s shadow, his mind shaped by different logic. Perhaps he could offer a fresh perspective.
Wade stepped down the stairs and turned to him. "If there’s a wolf disguised as a sheep in the flock, how would you find it?"
Draco blinked. Then a scoff escaped him. "What kind of foolish question is that? Why would a wolf disguise itself as a sheep?"
"Maybe it wants to eat a special lamb," Wade said slowly, "but doesn’t want the shepherd to notice."
"Notice it, and it dies."
Draco froze. For the first time, he noticed that Wade wasn’t joking. The absurdity of the story contrasted sharply with the seriousness in his voice.
He thought for a moment. "So the shepherd can’t tell which one’s the wolf?"
Wade nodded. "It’s disguised perfectly."
"Then how do you know a wolf is hiding in the flock?" Malfoy pressed.
A flicker of approval flashed in Wade’s eyes. "Maybe because there were chewed bones—and blood-stained wool—found in the pen."
Malfoy’s mouth snapped shut. A flicker of shock passed across his pale face. He glanced around nervously, then forced a laugh. "Fine. You got me. That was… a bit too much, Gray. Not funny at all."
Wade stared at him, watching the smile crack, the tension beneath it growing. The mask was slipping.
"Never mind," Wade said, stepping forward. "Just a joke."
As they passed each other, Malfoy suddenly stepped back half a pace, clearing the stairwell.
He watched Wade walk past, then suddenly spoke:
"I once asked my father why house-elves seemed to vanish when we didn’t notice them… Even when they’d just cleaned up my mess, right beside me."
Wade turned, studying the faint wistfulness on Malfoy’s face.
"My father said," Malfoy tapped the statue near the stairs, "it’s not that they hide themselves. It’s because they’re like decorative carvings on the wall. They’re within the field of view… but outside the line of sight."
He lifted his chin, turning sideways. "When you came down those stairs—did you see that statue?"
Wade’s gaze locked onto it. His breath caught.
The statue—over a meter tall—was of a Bara Yaga, a witch from folklore said to devour children. Its base was a hut perched on a chicken leg.
He had seen it.
But until now, he hadn’t seen it.
That was the truth.
That was how it worked.
Wade turned sharply and strode away, his robes flaring behind him like a gust of wind, vanishing around the corridor’s bend.
Draco remained frozen, staring after him. His lips curled into their habitual sneer.
"Hmph. Ravenclaw," he drawled, disdain dripping. "Can’t even follow basic protocol. Of course—”
The words died in his throat. A muscle twitched in his cheek.
He’d meant to say Mudblood.
But the word felt like fire on his tongue. He swallowed it down.
…
The castle had just been rained on. The air was thick with damp earth and the scent of fallen leaves. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called.
Wade hurried across the lawn, rounding a pile of stones—when suddenly, a rustling came from the bushes nearby.
He turned sharply.
A massive black dog emerged from the shadows, half its body visible, scanning left and right. Then, with a shimmer, it transformed into a strikingly handsome man.
"—Sirius Black?" Wade blurted, stunned. "What are you doing here?"
"I’ve been watching over Harry," Sirius said. "Dumbledore knows. He allowed me to move through the school unseen." He tilted his head. "But you—what are you doing out so late?"
"I need to find Hagrid." Wade’s tone was vague.
"Wait—let me come with you." Sirius tapped his wand to his head. Instantly, his form dissolved into thin air.
Wade raised an eyebrow. "Still worried about my safety inside school?"
"I should conjure a mirror," Sirius’s voice echoed from nowhere, "so you can see your own face right now."
"I don’t think you’re going to Hagrid. You look more like you’re preparing to kill someone."
"Overreacting," Wade muttered, rubbing his face. When he looked up, Sirius’s voice carried a chuckle.
"Hmm… now you look more like a fourteen-year-old kid."
Wade shot him a silent glare and strode toward Hagrid’s hut. He slammed his fist against the door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
(End of Chapter)
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