Translated Chapter
286. The Silent One
"—Crying?" Harry suddenly felt uncertain about the word.
He leaned out, and saw several familiar boys—some he recognized—wobbling out from around the corner, leaning on each other for support. Among them, Pete was actually sobbing openly.
Behind him, Wade lowered his sleeve and said to the dazed cashier, "Change, please."
"Oh... right. Yes." The cashier stammered, flustered.
Carrying groceries out of the supermarket, Harry still looked utterly stunned.
"How did you do that?" he whispered to Wade. "Did you use magic?"
"I picked up some combat techniques from Professor Abigail," Wade replied just as quietly. "Of course... and a bit of magic too. Here's a little trick—apply an Enhanced Perception Charm on yourself. It sharpens your awareness, makes you more agile in a fight."
"But won't using the Enhanced Perception Charm leave a MoveTrace?" Harry asked, puzzled.
Wade smiled. "Who said I just started using it?"
This unassuming yet highly useful spell? He'd been maintaining it for a long time.
And there was one thing Wade hadn’t told Harry:
After mastering the Animagus transformation, he discovered that applying a small, personal Transformation to himself—one that didn't involve outward movement—wouldn’t trigger a MoveTrace.
Magic flowing through his own body, acting upon himself—no spell was released, no signal emitted. Therefore, it couldn’t be picked up by surveillance cameras.
His hands flexed several times. The thick, calloused fingers gradually reshaped themselves into the slender, youthful hands of a thirteen-year-old boy.
Behind them, Pete—his nose crushed—was blubbering uncontrollably. One of his friends shook his head in disbelief. "Who the hell is that guy? His fists are like stone!"
"And his insults? Terrifying," another boy said, still visibly shaken. He patted Pete’s shoulder. "No relationships, cry it out, Pete. I get it. I was just listening, and I nearly cried too."
"Potter’s finally found a protector," someone muttered, glaring at Dudley Dursley. "Dudley, you knew he was dangerous, didn’t you? So why didn’t you jump in?"
Dudley Dursley stammered, "I... I’ve had a bad stomach all day. Not feeling well..."
In truth, he was just terrified—again—of growing a pig’s tail.
His father, Fernon Dursley, had resumed his old attitude after learning Harry couldn’t use magic outside school. He’d berate Harry regularly, sometimes even swinging his walking stick at him.
But Dudley was far more cautious.
His thinking was simple: Harry was only banned from using magic. He wasn’t actually incapable.
Laws banned hitting people too—but Dudley didn’t stop punching other kids just because it was illegal.
So whenever Harry pretended to cast magic, Dudley always flinched in fear.
But his friends, who had no idea magic existed, couldn’t understand his fear.
They were angry at Dudley for staying unscathed. He felt guilty, so he trailed behind awkwardly, silent and sheepish.
A group of children cried, shouted, and bickered as they passed down the street.
Then, two men crouched by the roadside—pretending to trim a bush—turned their heads to watch them pass. One glanced at the other.
Wade and Harry were already far ahead.
The dark-haired man murmured, "Harry Potter? I didn’t expect him to live here... Who’s the other boy?"
"The name should ring a bell," the brown-haired man said with a hint of pride. "Wade Gray. My student. At school, he was fiercely devoted to me."
The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp and unreadable. "So why are you hiding from your devoted student, Lockhart?"
Lockhart’s face paled. He lowered his voice, urgent. "Don’t say my name, Garr! What if someone hears?"
"We need to leave this area now," Garr said without hesitation. "Harry Potter’s got Ministry protection nearby. Staying here won’t end well—we’ll be caught soon."
"We just got a good-paying job with little work!" Lockhart protested, reluctant to go.
"If you want to go back to Azkaban, stay," Garr snapped. "I’m leaving."
He turned and walked off down a narrow path without looking back.
"Wait for me!" Lockhart hurried after him, calling out, "How long are we supposed to keep running? Why not come with me to Telford? There’s a fan there—she adores me. She’ll help us."
"Your scams have been exposed!" Garr shot back. "Everyone who admired you was deceived. They probably hate you more than anyone now!"
Lockhart fell silent.
"...So what do we do?" he finally asked.
"Actually," Garr mused, "I know a vampire. He’s my uncle. Maybe we could go to him..."
...
Wade had no idea he’d just passed the two escaped criminals—by mere inches.
They returned to Sirius Black’s house.
Seeing his enemies beaten up, Harry was in high spirits, recounting his past with a mix of nostalgia and regret.
"I once got chased so hard I jumped onto the school’s chimney. I’d never jumped that high before!" Harry sighed. "Why didn’t I know I could leap fifteen meters when I didn’t even know I had magic? Now that I do, I can’t even climb up a wall."
"Maybe," Sirius Black said, stepping down from the stairs, his clothes still smudged with soot from a recent fireplace journey to Number 12 Grimmauld Place, "it’s because children, untouched by knowledge, are more likely to perform miracles. Their minds are unshackled."
"But wizards who grow up learn to control their power," he added.
Wade pondered. "What if an adult completely lost their memory? Their mind like a blank sheet—like a baby’s. Could such a person possess both traits? To act with a child’s raw will—yet master their power instantly?"
Sirius blinked slowly. After a long pause, he said, "That’s an interesting thought... but you’d need to find such a person to test it."
"There is one," Remus Lupin said, stepping out from the kitchen, a tray in hand. "The kind of person you described. A man who lived into adulthood—yet still carried the mind of a child."
"Really?" Harry leaned forward. "Who?"
"Cleddens Baribown," Remus said. "The Silent One. He caused massive destruction in New York decades ago. Later, he died."
"I read about him in an old newspaper," Remus continued. "I think he’s exactly what you’re talking about."
"The Silent One?" Harry asked. "Who was he? What kind of man?"
"It’s a long story," Remus said, glancing at the clock. "But it’s lunchtime. Who’s helping set the table?"
The three men on the sofa stood up in unison.
(End of Chapter)
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