Chapter 81: Secret Passage
【Wade: Dad, if you’re certain he’s someone worth a Letter appointment, tell him—this Saturday morning, I’ll be meeting him at the Three Broomsticks Inn in Hogsmeade Village.】
【Ferdinand: You can leave the school?】
【Wade: I’ve got a way.】
【Ferdinand: Safety?】
【Wade: Don’t worry—Hogsmeade has always been under Dumbledore’s gaze.】
……
Inside the opened pages of the Book, a moving MagicPhoto rested between the parchment—capturing the love in his parents’ eyes, the radiant joy on his child’s face, forever preserved by the lens.
Ferdinand stared at it for a long time before closing the Book of Friends.
Though the words had vanished from the paper, they were already etched into his mind.
At Station Farewell, the father and son had quietly lifted a veil known as “Masking Reality.” From that moment on, Wade began writing things in the Book—truths he’d once hidden from them.
Like how Slytherin still clung to pure-blood supremacy, often clashing with Gryffindor.
Like how he planned to begin practicing more advanced Spells with a few classmates—preparing for what lay ahead.
Wade also asked Ferdinand to help place a Job Advertisement in The Daily Prophet, with the return address being a room at The Leaky Cauldron. Ferdinand had rented the room for a month, coming every evening after work to check the incoming Letters.
Pub Owner Tom seemed gruff on the surface, but in truth, he was kind-hearted—daily sorting through the letters and setting aside the relevant ones for Ferdinand.
The ad listed strict requirements and offered only average pay. Yet still, dozens of letters poured in from all corners of the wizarding world. Wade had specifically warned that some witches and wizards might include curses or harmful potions in their letters—urging Ferdinand not to open them himself.
But he didn’t need the warning. Ferdinand was deeply cautious about magic. He’d paid a small fortune to have Tom check each letter for safety. After all, someone who could run a pub in Diagon Alley—a bustling, high-traffic hub—without collapsing from poor hygiene, and still remain open for decades, had to be powerful. Tom’s magic was clearly formidable.
Among the letters, some included academic transcripts from Hogwarts graduation, demanding higher salaries. Others boasted wildly of magical abilities, yet offered no real proof—only self-praise.
But none of it mattered. From the very beginning, Ferdinand knew this ad was meant for only one person.
Wade had heard of someone—some name, some legend—and insisted on hiring only that individual. No matter how impressive the other applicants’ resumes, they would never be chosen.
And now, the man had arrived.
Ferdinand resolved: he would guard this moment with every fiber of his being. If this Remus Lupin was just a fraud, or worse—untrustworthy—Ferdinand would never allow him near his son.
Knock. Knock-knock.
The door to the room creaked open. Tom’s voice came through. “Mr. Gray, Mr. Lupin has arrived at the pub.”
“Right away,” Ferdinand said, drawing a deep breath. He adjusted his collar, then stepped out.
Downstairs in the pub, guided by Tom, Ferdinand spotted him—
a man with brown hair streaked with silver, wearing robes so tattered they were patched in several places.
He looked young, but his worn-out appearance made him seem older—like a middle-aged man stranded on Canary Wharf, holding a sign for a job he’d never get.
Ferdinand frowned.
A wizard who couldn’t even manage basic survival skills? That was his first impression of Remus Lupin.
Based on Ferdinand’s understanding of magic, wizards should find it easier than Muggles to earn a living legally… so how could someone be this poor? Not even able to afford new robes?
Or… was he trying to look this way? To provoke sympathy from potential employers?
But this was the man Wade wanted.
Ferdinand stepped forward.
The wizard noticed immediately. His eyes, though weary, snapped up with sharp awareness. Despite his exhaustion, there was calm in his gaze—steady, composed. And the way his fingers twitched toward his wand, subtle yet instinctive, betrayed a constant alertness.
Ferdinand suddenly understood.
This was the man Wade had been waiting for.
……
“Hmm, strange,” said Padma during breakfast, flipping through the newspaper. “What’s strange?” Michael mumbled through a bite of pie.
“I noticed a job ad I’ve seen every day has disappeared.” She tilted the paper, peering into the margins as if the missing ad might still be hiding.
“Probably got hired!” Michael shrugged.
“Impossible,” Padma frowned. “We discussed it in the dorm—ten Galleons a week? That’s not enough to attract someone of that caliber—”
Wade said nothing. He finished his breakfast in silence.
After class, he climbed the shifting staircase alone, winding his way up to the fifth floor. After a few minutes of searching, he finally found the tall mirror Machionni had described.
Wade tapped the glass with his wand and whispered, “mostrar la verdad” — “reveal the truth.”
The mirror flipped over, revealing a dark, narrow tunnel behind it. He lit his wand with a Lumos charm and stepped inside—then froze.
Only a few steps ahead, the tunnel ended in a pile of rubble.
The passage was completely collapsed—blocks of stone, debris, and packed soil sealing it shut. Cracks marred the walls, and dark, jagged marks—clear signs of Dark Magic—spidered across the surface.
Someone had used a dangerously powerful Explosion Spell to blow the entire tunnel to pieces.
Wade stood in silence, then stepped back. He restored the mirror and pulled out his Book of Friends.
【Wade: The tunnel’s collapsed.】
【Machionni: What? I used to use it all the time! The castle’s magic couldn’t stop it from falling?】
【Machionni: Never mind. I know another secret passage—on the sixth floor, behind the portrait of Paracelsus. Easy to find. He wears a fuzzy red hat, is round-faced, and loves talking about alchemy or divination. Just chat with him about those topics, and he’ll tell you everything.】
Wade: ……
He couldn’t help but think Machionni’s student days must’ve been quite the adventure.
He climbed the next flight of stairs and found the portrait—its subject fidgeting boredly, eyes half-lidded.
Wade was about to speak when a sudden, stealthy gaze prickled at the back of his neck.
He turned.
Mrs. Norris, Filch’s cat, sat on the floor, licking a paw, her eyes glinting with quiet, watchful scrutiny.
Mrs. Norris was old, thin, her fur dull and lifeless—but her senses remained sharp, her reflexes lightning-fast. Any student caught breaking rules? She’d dash to fetch Filch instantly.
Like her master, she was universally hated by the student body.
One man. One cat. Locking eyes.
Walking openly in the castle during the day was perfectly legal.
But opening a secret passage? That would trigger her alarm.
And worse—Filch almost certainly knew about this passage. That meant using it now was no longer safe.
Wade turned to leave.
“Hey, Wade!”
Fred and George suddenly appeared out of nowhere, grinning. They clapped him on the shoulders and dragged him away.
Fred draped an arm over Wade’s shoulder, whispering:
“Looking for a secret passage, are we?”
(End of Chapter)
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