Chapter 97: Vanishing Cabinet [Revised Version]
It took Wade an entire day to reconstruct and reorganize the memory. When he finally stepped out of the Room of Requirement, the sky had already turned completely dark.
Though both the Room of Requirement and Ravenclaw’s Common Room were located on high floors, one sat in the Main Tower, the other at the very top of Ravenclaw Tower—separated by a long, distant corridor. Normally, Wade would have summoned his broom with an Accio charm and flown across. But tonight, he walked slowly, his footsteps echoing softly in the long hallway, lost in thought, trying to sort out what he should do next.
The corridor stretched endlessly, its silence broken only by the hollow tap of his shoes. Suddenly, a voice shattered the stillness—
“Ha-ha… Surpri—se!” (A surprise for you!)
Peeves materialized out of nowhere, hurling several black, slimy water balloons straight at Wade. Instinctively, Wade drew his wand and pointed it forward. With a swift motion, the ink reversed mid-air, splattering all over Peeves’ face instead.
“Pffft! Pffft! Pffft!” Peeves spat out ink, cursing angrily as he zipped away, leaving behind a trail of inky blackness that smeared the walls and floor.
Wade had long mastered the Scourgify spell. A few flicks of his wand, and the ink vanished completely. The corridor was clean again—spotless, as if nothing had happened.
A voice clapped from the shadows. “Nice silent spell!”
Wade turned. “Griffiths?”
The red-haired wizard was back, once again darting between portraits like a ghost, hands clasped behind his back, grinning mischievously as he followed Wade down the hall.
Wade paused, recalling the sudden appearance of Peeves. “You didn’t… encourage him to do that, did you?”
“Yep, I did!” Griffiths admitted with perfect honesty. “I saw you looking like you were trapped by some time monster—so serious, so grim. So I figured, a little surprise would cheer you up. How’s it feel now? Lighter?”
Wade wasn’t sure what expression he’d had, but he rubbed his face with a sigh. “Well… thanks, I guess.”
“No problem, no problem! Helping students is what I do!” Griffiths beamed. Then he tilted his head. “So… what were you thinking about?”
Wade wasn’t in the mood to talk. “You’ve been getting along with the portraits in the Great Hall lately, haven’t you? They haven’t complained to me in ages.”
“Uh… well… yeah… sure, of course!” Griffiths stammered, clearly avoiding eye contact.
Wade stopped walking, frowning. “You didn’t… do something, did you?”
“Ha-ha! Just now, two Hufflepuffs asked me to tell them stories from my old days! Gotta run—catch you later!” With a nervous laugh, Griffiths hurried out of his portrait, vanishing into thin air.
Wade shook his head.
Lately, the chatterbox wizard’s name had become widely known among students. Always eager to chat, he’d pop out of random portraits with a sudden shout, startling those nearby—especially when they’d fall into the trap of the spiral stairs. He’d laugh until he cried, becoming the living embodiment of a portrait-bound Peeves.
But while students despised Peeves, they didn’t mind Griffiths. Sure, he played harmless pranks now and then, but he also told wild, half-true stories, and whenever he noticed someone downcast, he’d go out of his way to cheer them up—anything to make them smile. Wade had often seen four or five students gathered around Griffiths’ portrait, laughing and talking.
He’d assumed Griffiths was so busy with these interactions that he’d stopped bothering other portraits altogether.
But the way he’d just acted… there was something else going on.
Back in his dormitory, Wade pulled out his Book of Friends and first contacted his father. After a brief conversation, he switched to another page.
[Wade: Remus?]
A moment later, Remus Lupin’s reply appeared on the parchment:
[Remus Lupin: I’m here.]
[Wade: I need a favor—tomorrow morning, go with my father to Gringotts Wizarding Bank, withdraw some money, then go to Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley. Buy the Vanishing Cabinet in the store.]
[Remus Lupin: Done.]
Remus replied without hesitation. A few seconds later, another line appeared:
[Remus Lupin: But I should warn you—there’s only one Vanishing Cabinet known to be in Borgin and Burkes. The other one is missing. If the second cabinet is damaged, or trapped in a place no human can reach—like beneath the ocean or deep underground—then it’s useless. Worse, it could be deadly to anyone who tries to use it.]
[Wade: I know. But there’s another Vanishing Cabinet inside Hogwarts Castle.]
[Wade: It’s worth trying, isn’t it?]
[Remus Lupin: Understood. But promise me—don’t try it yourself. Let’s test it first with a rabbit or something.]
[Wade: Of course. I’m not reckless.]
He closed the book, a quiet thrill building in his chest.
The enemy could appear at any moment in what was supposed to be a safe haven. That constant threat eroded any sense of security. But if he could leave the castle at will—depart whenever he wanted—then the feeling would be entirely different. He’d be free to act, to move, to prepare.
Wade’s mind swirled with possibilities—every twist and turn in the story: the Chamber of Secrets, the Serpent monster, Peter Pettigrew hiding in Gryffindor, the Quidditch World Cup, the Triwizard Tournament, Barty Crouch’s escape, Voldemort’s resurrection, the corrupt Ministry of Magic…
And the Horcruxes—Voldemort’s hidden fragments of soul, scattered across the world.
And the ways to destroy them—the Sword of Gryffindor, the fang of the Basilisk, and the Inferno Flame.
He still needed to master the Inferno Charm.
He thought of Gellert Grindelwald—how he’d burned half of Paris with a single wave of his wand. He remembered Dumbledore, descending like a fire god, his wand sweeping through the air, summoning walls of flame that devoured everything in their path.
If he could wield such power… would he still have to hide? To hesitate?
He scribbled his thoughts onto paper, then rolled it into a tight ball and held it close to the candle flame. Watching it burn, curling into ash, he let the firelight flicker across his pupils.
In the depths of his eyes, another scene unfolded—Hogwarts overrun by a swarm of Death Eaters, Giants and Acromantulas charging through the halls, bodies scattered like broken dolls across the cold stone floor.
Life, so fragile beneath the fire.
And then, the things never shown in the story—after Dumbledore’s death, when Hogwarts and the Ministry were nearly swallowed by the Dark Lord’s reign, when the trio was forced into exile… that long, painful year. How many non-pureblood wizards were hunted? How many Muggles? And the Muggle-born—ignored, forgotten, their names erased, their deaths reduced to cold numbers in the newspapers.
For a split second, Ferdinand’s and Fiona’s smiling faces flashed before him. Then two others—faces long faded in memory, yet still so vivid in sorrow, yet still trying to smile.
He covered his eyes with his hand, exhaling deeply, weariness settling over him like a heavy cloak.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
