Chapter 84: 【Danger】 and 【Danger】
“Professor?” Wade said, surprised.
“Some Dangers are not visible on the surface,” Professor Mor replied, fingers interlaced, studying Wade with a calm gaze. “How much do you know about Curses and Covenants?”
Wade paused, considering. “I’ve read about the Unbreakable Vow and the Priori Incantatem Charm in the Books. I explored the Magical Covenant you made with me and Mr. Machionni last time, but I haven’t studied these topics systematically yet.”
His time learning magic had been short, and the amount he still needed to master was overwhelming. Knowing that the coming years would grow increasingly chaotic—more dangerous—Wade had focused his efforts on increasing his chances of survival. He no longer placed hope in anyone else’s protection. All he wanted now was the ability to face any crisis on his own.
Professor Mor nodded, not disappointed—indeed, the fact that Wade still had gaps in his knowledge seemed to stir a quiet sense of pride in the professor. After all, it meant there was still something to teach.
“An Unbreakable Vow is an immensely powerful oath,” Professor Mor explained. “Breaking it guarantees death. That’s why it’s only used in extreme circumstances. Like a Blood Oath, it’s a promise most people—no matter how willing—would never make. We’ll set that aside for now.”
Blood Oath? Wade’s mind stirred slightly.
“The Priori Incantatem Charm is complex and powerful—a magical spell designed to maintain confidentiality. But the key lies in the person entrusted with the secret. If that person betrays the secret, the spell becomes useless. If they die, everyone who knows the secret becomes a new guardian of it. So this spell places all its hope in a single individual.”
Professor Mor paused.
“Harry Potter’s parents died because of a broken confidentiality.”
Wade knew this already, but he asked anyway: “That person was—”
“Sirius Black.”
Professor Mor spoke the name slowly, with clear disdain. “He was once best friends with James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. But he betrayed them—leading to the deaths of two of them. He was imprisoned in Azkaban. The only one still free is Remus Lupin… though I haven’t heard from him in years.”
Wade nodded slowly. “So you’re worried he might be a concealed Dark Wizard who could threaten me?”
“Not only that,” Professor Mor hesitated, then added, “He’s also a… Werewolf.”
He paused, as if swallowing the word back down.
It wasn’t unusual for Death Eaters to emerge from Hogwarts—after all, nearly every wizard in Britain had studied there at some point. But if word got out that Dumbledore had brought a Werewolf into the school and allowed him to live among children for seven years, even loyal supporters might think the Headmaster had lost his mind.
But if Wade didn’t know this, he might walk into danger unknowingly.
Professor Mor weighed his words carefully. “He’s someone you must never approach during a Full Moon. You’re a clever child—you should understand what I mean.”
Wade nodded. “We covered treatments for Werewolf bites in our Defense Against the Dark Arts class last week, taught by Professor Quirrell. I’ve looked into it.”
“Knowing that, do you still want him as your Agent?” Professor Mor asked. “You must realize—this means he carries an uncontrollable danger. If you’d like, I can introduce you to someone reliable and safe.”
For a moment, Wade almost agreed. If Professor Mor said so, he’d use his own methods to ensure the person was trustworthy.
But after a brief pause, he said, “I’m truly grateful, Professor. But I’ve already given him a promise. This means something to me. Unless he proves himself unworthy, I won’t break it lightly.”
Professor Mor felt a quiet worry, but not surprise.
“Very well,” he said, raising his hand. A few Books floated across the table. “We’ll put Alchemy on hold today. Instead, we’ll discuss Magical Covenants—the most common way for unfamiliar wizards to build trust.”
…
Time flowed like a gentle stream, quiet and unbroken. Before long, it was Saturday.
This wasn’t a Hogsmeade weekend, so most students were still in their dormitories, sleeping in. Early in the morning, Wade dressed, wrapped a sky-blue scarf around his neck, and made his way to the Great Hall.
To his surprise, Professor Mor was seated at the staff table, enjoying breakfast. Professor McGonagall stared at him in disbelief, glancing several times before cautiously greeting him—as if checking whether this was really the real professor or an impostor.
“Stop looking so alarmed, Minerva,” Professor Mor said, smiling at Wade and nodding in greeting. “I do occasionally want to feel the vibrant energy of children.”
Wade bowed slightly to Professor Mor and took his seat at the Long Table. Moments later, his plate filled with his favorite food—exactly as he liked it—and beside it sat a few familiar candies.
He picked one up and took a bite. Sweet, crisp, refreshing—no cloying heaviness. Exactly like the ones his mother used to send.
The house-elves’ cooking must be improving.
After breakfast, Wade went to the castle entrance. He didn’t have to wait long. Professor Mor emerged shortly, smiling. “The kitchen’s offerings have gotten richer and tastier. I haven’t visited in a while—I must’ve missed a lot of interesting changes.”
Wade smiled. “Some house-elves aren’t just doing their jobs. They’re genuinely passionate about cooking.”
“An interesting thought—very interesting,” Professor Mor said, glancing at him. “Most people assume they’re just given better recipes by wizards. Few consider that house-elves might actually take initiative and study cooking on their own.”
“Why not?” Wade asked, genuinely puzzled. “They have wisdom. They feel emotions. It’s natural for them to have a personal love for something and work hard to master it, isn’t it?”
Professor Mor froze for a second—then burst into laughter. “Wade, Wade… you know so much, but you grew up in the Muggle world. Some things that seem obvious to others are completely foreign to you. And that’s perfectly normal. Too normal.”
He reached out and gently ruffled Wade’s hair, his eyes filled with affection—like a parent watching a toddler take their first steps.
“House-elves have no self, Wade,” Professor Mor said softly. “Or rather—house-elves who do possess a self… are dangerously unpredictable to wizards. You should remember that, child.”
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
