Translated Chapter

When Wade casually mentioned Kariel’s situation during afternoon tea in the Umbrella Room, the others reacted with varying degrees of concern. Harry and Hermione, however, were visibly shaken.

“Thank goodness I met Hagrid first,” Harry said. “I mean… if I’d run into that Byerd bloke instead, I’d have been fooled for sure.”

“You couldn’t have been fooled, Harry,” Hermione insisted, still tense. “The whole magical world was watching you. But someone like me—Muggle-born, with no magical family background—couldn’t even tell what’s real and what’s fake.”

“I don’t know much more than you do, Hermione,” Harry replied. “As long as someone came to take me away from the Dursleys, I’d have followed them without hesitation.”

Ever since he was a child, Harry had dreamt of a distant relative suddenly appearing to rescue him. But those dreams had never come true—until the moment he finally realized they were just dreams, and the magical world crashed into his life like a flood.

Remus and Wade had pulled him from the Dursleys’ house. He even had a godfather.

Sometimes Harry wondered if his early years had been so painful because Merlin—or perhaps God—had saved the best for after he turned eleven.

“Oh, Harry…” Hermione bit her lip, her voice heavy with guilt. “I’m so sorry…”

She’d only thought about Harry’s fame, forgetting what he’d lost in the process.

Harry shook his head, saying nothing.

After a few minutes of quiet discussion about Kariel’s case, the group—mostly teenagers—had little to offer. With their limited experience, they could only reorganize the meager information they already had.

“The professors must know which Muggle families have children who haven’t shown up at school,” Padma said finally. “If only we could get our hands on that list… maybe we’d find something.”

Neville sighed. “But that list would be in Dumbledore’s or McGonagall’s office. They’d never hand it over to us.”

Except for Neville, the other Gryffindors’ eyes sparkled with eager anticipation.

“Not necessarily…” Fred winked. “We don’t always need the professors’ permission to get intel.”

“If someone inside could distract Professor McGonagall…” George mimed holding books, “—Professor, I have a question I don’t quite understand…”

Everyone turned to Hermione.

“Well… I do have a few questions…” She paused abruptly, clearing her throat. “I mean—stealing from a professor is a violation of school rules! And who even knows McGonagall’s new password?”

They all looked at Wade.

He shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t go along with this plan. I can’t help you break the rules. If the professors haven’t already thought of what we’re considering, they’re not the ones I thought they were. If there’s an investigation to be done, they’ve already done it.”

“Exactly,” Michael agreed. “Professors have more experience, more power, and they can Apparate. They could’ve checked every Muggle student in a single day. Even if we got the list, what could we possibly do with it?”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “So we shouldn’t steal the list… we should steal the results of the investigation.”

“Right!” the Gryffindors cheered. “That’s exactly what Ravenclaws are good at—thinking ahead!”

Michael sighed. “Why is it always about stealing? We’re saying the theft’s pointless, the investigation is inefficient, and we’re wasting time. The smartest move is to just wait for the professors and the Ministry to finish their work.”

“We know that,” Harry said. “But knowing something like this… can you really sit back and do nothing?”

“I can,” Michael said firmly.

“So can I,” Fred added with a grin. “He’s a Ravenclaw, after all!”

It was a joke, not mockery—and everyone laughed, even Michael, who couldn’t help chuckling.

“Fine, do whatever you want,” Michael shrugged. “If you get caught, I’ll try to get you off with lighter punishment.”

Then, the Gryffindors turned to Wade—the one who held the master password.

Wade shook his head again.

“I can’t share the password I was entrusted with, not without permission.”

As the small lions lowered their heads in disappointment, Wade shifted his gaze toward the potted plant on the wall. His voice dropped to a whisper.

“But… if I go to see Professor McGonagall, and someone insists on coming with me… I can’t exactly turn them away, can I?”

The group erupted in delight. Michael gave Wade a sly wink.

Wade smiled sheepishly.

Let the adventure—and the blame—fall on the Gryffindors. That seemed to be the unspoken agreement between Ravenclaws and Slytherins.

But even if the Gryffindors realized this, they wouldn’t care. They’d still charge ahead, fearless and eager. Because courage and adventure were exactly what they craved.

Still, Wade wasn’t convinced Harry and the others would actually uncover anything meaningful. Especially the wizard-born kids—some of them probably didn’t even know whether Oxford was west or south of London. They wouldn’t know what activities Muggle-born children usually joined. How could they possibly dig up the reason behind a missing student from a library?

Whatever they could find, the adults had already found. And if there was something the adults didn’t know, they likely did—deep down.

Yet Wade couldn’t forget: in the original timeline, Dumbledore had allowed Harry to face and kill the Serpent Beast alone in the Chamber of Secrets. That was a beast even seasoned wizards feared.

And now, thanks to Wade’s interference, the Serpent hadn’t even surfaced yet.

Maybe Dumbledore, wanting to test Harry, would quietly guide some clues into his hands.

—That thought struck Wade the moment Harry suggested stealing the investigation results.

After finishing their assignment, the group headed to spell practice.

Theo gave Wade a quick glance, and they sat together in the rest area, a small plate of cake between them.

“Wade…” Theo leaned in, lowering his voice. “My point might sound strange…”

“Any detail could be a clue,” Wade replied. “Did you notice something off?”

“Earlier, you said the Johnson family was taken from America by Majer Byerd and an old witch,” Theo said. “Everyone’s focused on Byerd. But why haven’t we heard anything about the old witch?”

“Because even in Mr. Johnson’s memory, she only showed half her face—wrinkled, barely visible. We could tell she was female, small in stature. That’s all,” Wade said. “No jewelry, no distinguishing features. Old witches are common in both Britain and America. There’s no way to trace her.”

Theo fell silent for a moment. “Maybe I’m overthinking it… but remember the summer holiday, when you saved me and my younger brother?”

“The same old witch was there,” Theo continued. “After you left, my father and others used… well, some methods to interrogate the werewolf, Chad Brick.”

“They found out the witch called herself Eshula. She sold dark magic materials—eyes, fingernails, even children’s spinal and butterfly bones—in Knockturn Alley.”

“You know, that kind of act is extremely evil, even by dark wizard standards. My parents were furious. They tracked her down—just as she Apparated and split her body in two. They found her upper half quickly.”

“But when they found her… she was already dead.”

“—Strangled by a cursed scarf in a back alley no one ever visits.”

“…Strangled by a scarf?” Wade finally understood where Theo was going.

“Yes,” Theo said. “Coincidence? Maybe. But the two deaths… they’re eerily similar.”

A woman. Strangled. And the circumstances before death—both victims were isolated, vulnerable.

But to say the deaths were connected? That would be jumping to conclusions.

“Did this ever make the newspapers?” Wade asked. “Magic society is so quiet these days, but even minor incidents make headlines. A body split in two, then strangled by a magic scarf? That kind of case would’ve gotten front-page coverage.”

Unless it was never known.

Sure enough, Theo said hesitantly, “My father… they disposed of the bodies. And the werewolf too.”

That was why he hadn’t shared this earlier.

“Ah,” Wade said, not surprised. “In a world where everyone has a wand, it’s like carrying a gun. Private justice isn’t rare. Especially when a child’s life is threatened—angry parents become beasts. What they do isn’t really surprising.”

“Did they get anything useful from the werewolf?” Wade asked.

Theo thought for a moment. “I’ll write a letter to my father. Say it’s from Mr. Wenar—he wants to know. He’ll tell you everything.”

“No,” Wade said. “I’ll write it myself. If Mr. Machionni knows Wenar contacted you privately, he might worry.”

Theo blinked, then nodded. “Right. I’d forgotten.”

To his parents, Wenar wasn’t just a classmate. He was an unknown wizard with unclear intentions.

And now, Wenar was reaching out through Theo—asking for things. Was it a request… or a threat? Hard to say.

Wade quickly wrote a short letter and sent it via Owl Post from Hogsmeade Village over the weekend.

Then came study time.

Wrapping himself in his thick cloak, Wade returned to Remus Lupin’s home—only to find everyone else had already left for shopping or fun. Harry remained in the living room.

“Maybe you two can study this spell together,” Remus said. “It’s an advanced form of magic. Many seasoned wizards can’t master it. But I believe you two are ready.”

Harry gripped his wand, excited. “What kind of magic is it, Remus?”

“It’s called the Patronus Charm,” Remus explained. “It summons a Patronus—a protective spirit that can repel dark creatures like Dementors, shielding your mind from their influence.”

“What does a Patronus look like?” Harry asked.

“Wade, you tell him,” Remus said. “I know you’ve done your research.”

“Sure,” Wade said, looking at Harry. “A Patronus is a manifestation of positive energy—your inner strength. It usually takes the form of an animal, but sometimes it’s like a solid ghost. The key is to focus on a happy memory. Because the Patronus is pure hope and joy.”

“Perfect,” Remus smiled. “Just to add—James Potter’s Patronus was a stag, Lily’s a doe. They were deeply in love.”

“What’s yours?” Harry asked.

“…A wolf,” Remus hesitated, then smiled. “After years of hate and denial, I’ve finally learned to accept my identity. I don’t hide it anymore.”

He cleared his throat, raised his wand, and signaled the boys to pay attention.

“Expecto Patronum!”

A silver-white wolf burst from the tip of his wand, leaping through the air, circling the room at high speed. Its fur shimmered like weightless silver mist.

“—That’s amazing!” Harry breathed, awestruck.

Wade nodded silently. He felt the same.

After circling twice, the wolf dissolved into silver mist.

Remus smiled. “Ready? Let’s begin.”

He repeated the incantation and wand movement, then gave them a few minutes to focus on a joyful memory.

Wade’s face remained calm, but inside, emotions swirled. Then, slowly, they settled.

Thanks to the Pensieve, long-forgotten memories surfaced—moments he thought he’d lost.

He realized: his happiest times weren’t when he mastered advanced magic, aced exams, destroyed a Dark Lord’s Horcrux, saved someone doomed to die, or even received his acceptance letter confirming his wizard identity.

Not even when his parents from his previous life first took him to the amusement park.

It was much simpler.

A long-ago evening, he didn’t even remember the date.

His father pulled a soaked watermelon from a well, split it in half with one knife stroke, and handed him half, holding it in one hand.

He clutched the fruit, scooped out a spoonful—sweet, fresh air filling the room.

His father cut the other half into pieces, gave one to his mother.

They ate together, talking about the old courtyard pine tree, sparrows on the electric poles, the rain that had poured all night, and the annoying mosquitoes at dusk.

Young as he was, he felt no worry—only peace, lightness, a deep, wordless contentment.

“Expecto Patronum! — Expecto Patronum! — Expecto Patronum!”

Harry suddenly gasped.

A thin thread of silver mist erupted from his wand tip.

“Remus! Did you see? There—!”

Then—whoosh—a silver flash sliced through the air!

Harry froze. His eyes widened. He spun around.

A majestic eagle, wings spread wide, soared through the small room, trailing silver mist like a comet’s tail.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end