Chapter 91: Resolution
Wade froze everything in place, stepping into the chaotic classroom with cautious precision, carefully avoiding the patches of dung bomb residue. He restored the cockroach and spider to their original sizes, watching the grateful insects scuttle frantically into cracks in the wall.
He glanced up—and was met with expressions of gratitude from a few students, their eyes wide with relief.
Wade felt momentarily speechless.
Looking around, he saw the aftermath: dung bomb fragments scattered across the floor and walls, shattered glass still emitting green smoke, the ground corroded and hissing with a faint, sizzling voice. Slytherin students were frozen in various states of distress—some weeping uncontrollably, tears and snot streaking their faces; others wide-eyed with terror, frozen in silent horror; a few covered in grotesque, red swellings from what looked like severe skin rashes, clearly in pain. Only Daphne fared slightly better—uninjured, but visibly shaken, her robes still clinging with strands of spider silk.
Wade couldn’t help but wonder: Is this it?
He’d expected Malfoy to have prepared something far more elaborate—some elaborate trap, a well-laid ambush after their last encounter. Instead, it was just a mob attack, relying on sheer numbers?
Wade reflected on his own preparations: a dozen spells, five different spell combinations meticulously practiced. He’d spent hours in the Room of Requirement, perfecting his casting speed and precision, even while moving and attacking. Since the room only provided wooden dummies, he’d trained with small insects—mostly emerald-green mantises, ones with two large scythes for hands, at least somewhat tolerable.
Now, here he was—just a few words, a flick of his wand, and the entire group collapsed like puppets with cut strings, then erupted into howls of exaggerated suffering.
It felt almost absurdly anticlimactic. His intense preparation seemed completely unnecessary.
“Scourgify!”
With a wave of his wand, the green sludge and debris vanished—though the stench lingered. He then used Accio to collect all their wands, finally lifting the Petrificus Totalus charm.
The classroom erupted into a chorus of wails and screams.
“Quiet!” Wade frowned.
In an instant, all noise ceased.
He walked toward Malfoy. The blond boy paled instantly, scrambling backward on his feet, whimpering, “Y-you—you don’t come near me—!”
Wade pressed his collected wand against Malfoy’s shoulder, crouching down to meet his eyes. “Know this—” he said calmly, “if you were my enemy, I’d break your wand right now.”
Malfoy froze. After a long silence, he stammered, “Y-you can’t… you can’t do that…”
To a wizard, a wand was as much a part of them as half their body. Some adult wizards couldn’t even cast a simple charm without theirs. While a new wand could be obtained, most wizards cherished the one that had chosen them in childhood—the one that had grown with them, that had been with them through every triumph and trial. For most, the wand was buried with them at death, a lifelong companion from birth to end.
A partner in life and death.
A soft sniffle broke the silence—someone had begun to cry.
“Of course, I won’t,” Wade said, watching Malfoy exhale in relief. “But not because of your father, or your grandfather. It has nothing to do with bloodlines or connections. It’s simply because we’re classmates. We should be able to get along… right?”
Malfoy said nothing.
You see the sores on my skin? You smell the stench clinging to me? You know that spider almost ate me? You know what it feels like to be trapped in those legs? This is friendly?
“…Yes,” Malfoy whispered, head down.
“Thank you,” Wade said, his tone sincere. “It’s nice that you understand. I just want to focus on my books. I don’t like trouble.”
He almost reached to pat Malfoy’s shoulder—then paused. The thought of touching someone who’d just been covered in dung bomb residue made his hand retract.
But Malfoy flinched as the gesture was made. His heart pounded erratically, his chest tightening with a dull ache. When Wade spoke again, he nearly burst into tears.
This… this monster… is really the Ravenclaw kid I know? Who’s the real Slytherin here?
“Also,” Wade continued, “I’d appreciate it if you and your friends would stop bullying my friends. No more tricks like this. If you don’t, I’ll be… very, very angry. I don’t forget grudges.” He looked straight into Malfoy’s eyes. “If you think you can ignore my warning, then come at me. I welcome any open and honest challenge.”
Malfoy stared blankly. The others remained silent.
Wade, now feeling a little awkward, set the Slytherin wands down and turned to leave.
Just as he reached the door, he paused—and turned back.
Malfoy, just now regaining his wand, dropped it with a clatter. Theo Nott darted behind Crabbe. Others jumped in alarm.
“Don’t be so tense,” Wade said, his voice soft. “I just wanted to ask—will you tell Professor Snape about this? About how you were scared of a cockroach and a spider?” He tilted his head slightly. “There’s a big difference between one secret and being laughed at by the whole school, isn’t there?”
The room went silent.
Malfoy’s face hardened—his mind already raging with thoughts of revenge: Tell the Professor… tell my father… break your wand… expel you…
But Wade seemed to hear his inner voice.
He smiled gently. “Just a little enlargement charm, nothing more. No one gets expelled for that. We’ve got over six years left together. Let’s forget the past. Move forward—can we agree on that?”
They understood the threat.
They nodded stiffly.
Wade grinned. “Good. Then it’s settled.”
…
A few moments after leaving the Potions classroom, Wade spotted Michael and Padma peeking from a corner.
As he approached, they leapt out, circling him with wide eyes.
“Are you okay?” Padma asked anxiously. “I heard screaming—so much pain in their voices!”
“Fine. No harm done,” Wade said.
“Awesome! All fixed?” Michael grinned. “Let’s go—someone tried to sneak in to check, but we stopped them. I hope they don’t call Snape.”
The three hurried down the corridor, disappearing around the bend.
From the shadows, a giant eye peeked out from behind a corner.
Wade glanced back, winked, and silently raised his right hand behind his back, forming a “OK” sign.
A tiny sprite—Makki—grinned, stretching his long fingers into a matching “OK.” Then he melted into the darkness, his large ears twitching as he listened to the distant, trembling sobs of the Slytherin students.
(End of Chapter)
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