https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-667-Within-the-Field-of-View-Outside-the-Line-of-Sight/13685884/
Chapter 668: Administrator
A heavy thud echoed from behind the door, followed by the metallic clink of keys.
“Who’s there?” A gruff voice called out as the door creaked open.
Hagrid’s massive frame filled the entrance. He wore a pink apron, flour dusting his wild beard, and clutched a wooden spoon in one hand. The fireplace blazed warmly inside, casting flickering light over the half-giant’s flushed, sweating face as he kneaded the dough for a cake.
“Oh, Wade!” Hagrid’s face lit up when he spotted the boy. “Perfect timing! I was just getting started on my cake!”
“Thanks, Hagrid, but I’ve got something urgent to ask you,” Wade said quickly. “Back when I first arrived at Hogwarts, you were always at the main gate, right? Still doing that job?”
“Of course!” Hagrid puffed his chest proudly, jingling the keys at his waist. “I’m the Keeper of the Keys—still am, even as a professor. Dumbledore never relieved me. He said I could handle it even by letter!”
Wade fixed him with a steady gaze. “Always? So anyone coming from outside the school must be escorted in by you?”
“Ah…” Hagrid rubbed the back of his head, suddenly aware he’d spoken too freely. His cheeks warmed slightly. “Well, technically yes. But you know… I’ve got classes to teach now. And with so many outsiders coming and going…” He leaned down, flour smudging his face. “Professors can bring guests in themselves, though they rarely do. Usually, it’s Professor McGonagall who deals with troublesome visitors. Filch—well, he’s the caretaker, so naturally he can let people in too.”
He snorted dismissively. “That old creep’s always prowling around like a vulture, desperate to catch a student breaking rules and throw them in detention!”
“Thanks for the info, Hagrid,” Wade nodded curtly. “I’ve got to go—” He waved once, already vanishing like a gust of wind through the vegetable garden.
Hagrid blinked, then called after him, “Hey, kid! You don’t wanna try my cake?”
“Next time!” The shout was swallowed by the wind as Wade was already sprinting over a hundred meters away.
“Shame,” Hagrid muttered, turning back to his oven. “Would’ve been nice to know what’s got you so worked up.” He stared at the cake batter, musing aloud, “Maybe I should add a bit more powdered Niffler shell? Texture might improve…”
He was already lost in thoughts about his recipe, utterly forgetting the reason Wade had come.
…
Wade ran like the wind, his robes snapping behind him. Sirius Black’s footsteps matched his pace, silent and steady.
“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked, concerned. “What did you mean by questioning Hagrid?”
“I just… suddenly realized something,” Wade panted, between breaths. “The person who can make you relax, who you’d never suspect—might not be someone you trust… but someone no one even sees as a threat. Someone no one thinks could ever be dangerous.”
“What?” Sirius paused, processing. “—Filch? That’s impossible. He’s a Muggle-born! I knew that for sure when I was at school!”
Of course it is.
Just like in the original story—Sirius and Harry despised Kreacher, yet never considered he’d betray them. The house-elf, hated and dismissed by his master, was invisible to wizards. Like Filch—seen as a joke, a nuisance, a mere decoration.
But even a decoration, when placed in the right spot, can shift the balance of power with just a slight nudge.
“I’m not certain yet,” Wade said, leaping up the staircase in two strides. He paused to catch his breath, eyes locked on the flickering lights within the castle. His gray eyes were sharp as blades.
Sirius Black, hidden, slowly drew his wand.
“Be careful,” the man warned. “If that man is the one behind the skeleton, he’s far more dangerous than Filch.”
“I know,” Wade replied, his voice calm. He stepped through the archway, his footsteps echoing down the corridor with a strange rhythm.
Dinner hour had just begun. The hallways were quiet. A few students passed by, clutching stacks of books, casting envious glances at Wade.
Final exams were coming up. Even the most carefree students were now facing their annual nightmare.
Seeing Wade—someone who didn’t have to take the test—filled them with a deep, unspoken envy.
But Sirius alone knew: the calm, effortless stride of the boy was an illusion. Beneath the surface, every muscle was taut.
Then, a sharp, screeching voice shattered the silence.
“…Flying on broomsticks in the corridor? I’ll hang every one of you!”
Filch, hunched and gaunt, was shouting at two terrified first-years. The other students edged around the scene, avoiding eye contact with the sour-faced administrator, afraid of drawing his wrath and earning days of detention.
Wade narrowed his eyes, scanning the man from head to toe. His racing heart finally settled.
Perhaps it was the sudden awareness of a line of sight—of being watched—that made Filch whirl around. His clouded eyes flared with fury the moment they locked onto Wade’s.
“You—yes, you! How dare you walk in here with muddy feet!” Filch lunged forward like a cornered cat, nostrils flaring as if sniffing out guilt. “Mud! The entire corridor’s covered in mud! Even the school champion should know better than to ignore school rules!”
Wade froze, then glanced down. Sure enough, a trail of muddy footprints followed him from the door.
It had rained earlier. The damp soil from outside clung to his shoes, tracked in with every step.
Usually, Wade would have cast a quick Scourgify before stepping onto the stairs—anything to spare poor Filch the extra work. But today, he’d forgotten.
Of course, the corridor was already muddy in places. His footprints weren’t particularly noticeable.
“I’ve had enough!” Filch snarled, seizing Wade’s arm and dragging him toward his office. “Come with me! Detention! Charge: defiling the castle!”
The two first-years stared, uncertain whether they’d be next.
Wade turned, waved them off, and gave a subtle signal to leave. They exchanged nervous glances, then bolted toward the Great Hall, glancing back once with grateful eyes before vanishing through the doors.
Filch, entirely oblivious to the others, was fixated on his prize—Wade, the champion. He was determined to teach him a lesson.
And at his side, Wade’s lips curled into a barely visible smirk.
(End of Chapter)
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