Chapter 82: Secret Passage, Makki
Wade paused. “Is it really that obvious?”
“Maybe not to others,” Fred grinned, “but to us? It’s glaring!”
“We saw you come out of the corridor where the Mirror was,” George added, “and now you’ve found Paracelsus’s portrait. You’re clearly hunting for a Secret Passage, aren’t you?”
“But it’s useless,” Fred warned. “Filch knows about the passage behind that portrait. He’s too sharp. Even if you sneak in, you’ll be caught the moment you try to come out.”
“Besides,” George said, “that man’s got access to four of the castle’s Secret Passages.”
“But we know more,” Fred said, eyes twinkling. “If you’re really planning to sneak out—say, for a little trip to Honeydukes to pick up some sweets—”
“Then go to the middle of the fourth-floor corridor,” George continued. “Look for the One-Eyed Hunchback Witch Statue.”
“The password is Left and Right Separated.”
“The exit leads straight into Honeydukes.”
“So,” Fred said, winking mischievously, “we’re counting on you for a grand adventure!”
“Why are you telling me this?” Wade asked, puzzled. “You haven’t shared this with many people, have you?”
“Of course not!” Fred declared. “Not even little Ron knows!”
“But you’ve already found two Secret Passages on your own—that makes you worthy of becoming the next generation of rule-breakers!”
He said it with solemn gravity, as if bestowing a sacred legacy.
“We ourselves were once given help—very valuable help—from those who came before,” George added vaguely. “So we owe it to others who share our spirit to pass it on.”
“Keep it up, Wade,” Fred said, giving him a thumbs-up. “You’ve got talent.”
Wade didn’t want to know what kind of “talent” the twins meant. He had a sinking feeling they were misreading him—badly.
“Left and Right Separated!”
Wade approached the hunchback witch statue, whispered the password, and watched as the figure’s crooked back slid open, revealing a dark, narrow tunnel.
He stood at the entrance, staring into the blackness. After a long moment, he turned back, carefully resetting the statue to its original position.
Why must I break rules just to leave the school?
The thought struck him suddenly.
Gryffindors might call this a heroic adventure. But to Wade, risking danger for the sake of rebellion felt reckless—unwise.
He did need to meet Remus Lupin. And perhaps catch up with Machionni. But the Secret Passage was just a backup. Only if legitimate paths failed would he consider using it.
His mind raced through the professors—then settled on Professor Mor, whose warm, kind smile lingered in his memory.
Not just because the professor had shown him kindness and genuine interest, but because Mor didn’t treat rules like sacred commandments.
Sure, Hogwarts officially forbade the Floo Network’s use. But Mor had secretly connected his office fireplace anyway—though Dumbledore undoubtedly knew.
Even more, the law said non-Magical families couldn’t link their fireplaces. Yet Mor had quietly arranged it anyway.
Most professors of his stature grew more rigid with age—playing the role of moral guardians, even if only outwardly. But Mor rolled up his sleeves and bargained fiercely with merchants, refusing to be outmaneuvered.
That was why Professor Mor was the one most likely to make an exception for him.
Snap!
The familiar, soft crack of Apparition made Wade whirl around. He half-expected to see Fell or one of the others—but instead, a small, unfamiliar house-elf stood before him.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wade Gray,” the tiny creature bowed deeply.
“You’re—” Wade’s fingers instinctively tightened around his wand, scanning the elf’s head. “Makki? Good afternoon, Makki.”
The elf’s eyes—already large like tennis balls—bulged even wider. Tears welled up instantly, spilling over.
Wade Gray remembered Makki’s name?
The name of a house-elf so insignificant, even dust was more noticeable?
And he greeted him?
No wizard had ever said “good afternoon” to Makki… no wizard had ever remembered his name…
The elf burst into sobs.
Wade sighed and crouched down. “Sorry… did I say something wrong?”
“No—no! Mr. Wade Gray could never be wrong! Just like Zoe said—he’s… he’s so great… just like Zoe said… so wonderful…” Makki cried, sniffling.
“That’s too much,” Wade said, pulling out his handkerchief. “I’m not great at all. And if you keep crying like this, someone might come.”
“Good house-elves don’t get caught,” the belief was etched into the elf’s soul like a moral law. Instantly, Makki’s sobs quieted, then faded.
“Zoe mentioned you were studying candy recipes,” Wade asked gently. “Did you come to tell me you’ve made progress?”
“Y-yes… Mr. Wade Gray will see the candy on the table tonight…” Makki hiccuped. “But—no… Makki didn’t come for that… Makki came to warn Mr. Wade Gray…”
“Warn?” Wade frowned. “Warn me about what?”
Makki trembled. “Makki… was cleaning in Slytherin… heard some students talking… said they’d… use the time when Mr. Wade Gray was practicing potions… to… to give him a lesson…”
He forced the words out with visible agony, then froze—stunned at what he’d done.
Then he shuddered, lunging toward the wall and headbutting it repeatedly, crying, “Bad Makki! Bad Makki!”
“Wait, Makki!” Wade caught him mid-charge. “What are you doing?”
“Makki is punishing himself! Makki is so wicked! He told a secret… a young wizard’s secret…” Makki wept, “But… but Mr. Wade Gray needs to know… someone wants to hurt him… Makki… Makki wanted to tell who… but Makki can’t say their names…”
He tried to break free again. Wade held firm.
“Wait!” he said firmly. “You’re protecting me, remember? You didn’t reveal anything. You saved a student from danger. That’s not something to be punished—it’s something to be honored!”
“B-But…?” Makki looked up, dazed.
“Absolutely,” Wade said, nodding firmly. “You risked yourself to protect someone. That’s not a crime. It’s courage. It’s self-sacrifice. It’s love. It’s responsibility. That’s the true meaning of life—not punishment.”
Makki stared at him, silent.
After a long pause, he bowed deeply—so low his nose nearly touched the floor.
“Please, Mr. Wade Gray… please be careful… Makki cannot bear to see you hurt…”
With the dirty handkerchief still clutched in his tiny hand, he vanished with a soft pop.
(End of Chapter)
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