Translated Chapter
363. The Guardian Relf
Just before Curfew, Wade dropped Kariel off at Gryffindor Tower, taking the time to point out the various classrooms they passed along the way.
At the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room stood the Fat Lady, draped in a pink dress. As they approached, she asked, “Password?”
“I don’t have the Gryffindor password,” Wade said, “but I can fetch someone to let you in.”
“No need,” Kariel smiled, waving a hand. “Percy told me the password. I can get in on my own.”
“Oh,” Wade glanced at him. “I should head back. Get some rest—don’t want you to be late tomorrow.”
“Alright,” Kariel nodded.
Wade turned and departed. As he did, he exhaled a quiet breath of relief.
Though he’d let himself be swayed by Dumbledore’s plea, Wade had quickly realized he wasn’t the right person for this task. He wasn’t as skilled at diplomacy as Michael, as thoughtful as Theo, as sincere as Liam, nor did he possess the Gryffindor spirit’s boundless enthusiasm. Dumbledore had expected him to inspire Kariel—clearly, he’d chosen the wrong man.
“I should go talk to Viola Lait. Either tell me the password, or just leave!”
A few steps down the corridor, Wade faintly heard the Fat Lady grumbling.
He turned back. There was Kariel still standing before her portrait, waving cheerfully when he noticed him.
The torches in the corridor cast weak light. Figures in the distance always seemed to linger in darkness.
Wade waved once more—this time, he truly walked away.
“Password?” the Fat Lady snapped again.
“Good fortune.” Kariel finally answered.
He stared in astonishment as the portrait swung forward with a sudden lurch, revealing a large hole in the wall. He slipped through, descending into the circular Common Room, where plush armchairs lined the walls and a roaring fire crackled in the fireplace. Golden and red tapestries cascaded from the ceiling like flowing ribbons.
The room buzzed with life—students writing assignments, playing chess, petting magical creatures, practicing spells. The noise was thick, the atmosphere warm and lively.
Kariel stood at the entrance, motionless, eyes fixed on the scene before him.
It wasn’t until Percy Weasley finally spotted him that he moved.
“Johnson!” Percy’s eyes lit up. He pushed through the crowd.
“What?” Angelina called out loudly.
“Not you!” Percy barked, then quickly adjusted. “Kariel! You’re finally here! I’ve got your schedule for tomorrow, and your dorm is upstairs—come on!”
Kariel followed in silence, his gaze flicking nervously across the faces around him. He licked his lips, throat working as if parched.
“This is your dorm,” Percy said, pushing open a small door.
Inside was a modest single room. A pale orange wooden desk, an armchair, a thick, soft bed draped with deep red curtains, and a long-handled charcoal brazier nestled in the center of the bedding—meant to keep it warm.
Though it was only early autumn, the castle’s nights were already cold. Many students wore scarves against the chill.
“If you need anything, you can ask me or any of the prefects. Or write to Dewey and Banes in Hogsmeade—they sell all kinds of magical equipment.”
“If you need Muggle items, they can help you get those too.”
“Thank you,” Kariel said.
Once Percy had left, Kariel stepped inside and examined the room carefully. Then he noticed the vase on the desk—what he’d first assumed was a decorative vase actually held a small vial of fresh blood.
He sniffed, then muttered under his breath: “Goat.”
He paused. Then, suddenly, he laughed.
“Hogwarts.”
…
Down the corridor, after walking a distance, Wade glanced back.
No one was behind him.
The long hallway stretched like a deep tunnel. When empty, the ancient castle always felt unnervingly silent and cold.
He remembered what Dumbledore had told him:
The Headmaster had disguised himself as an ordinary Auror, hunting a few vampires. He’d even feigned defeat, letting them believe they’d escaped. After a series of tense, wind-tossed pursuits, the creatures thought they’d broken free—so they retreated to a temporary hideout in Britain.
The base vanished.
The group fled in panic. Another chase, another twist—then Dumbledore led them to a French stronghold.
That one disappeared too.
This time, two adult vampires were killed. One escaped. And the third—still a child—was captured.
Kariel was underage. That gave him a significant advantage over Dumbledore, a powerful wizard. He’d fought hard, of course—but in Dumbledore’s eyes, it was no different than a child throwing a tantrum.
But among other young wizards—also minors, with no mastery of sunlight charms—a vampire’s threat was undeniable.
“You don’t have to worry he’ll bite anyone,”
A voice spoke from beside him, soft and ancient.
A very old house-elf stood nearby, moonlight streaming through the window, glinting off his silver-white eyebrows.
“Mr. Relf,” Wade paused. “Good evening.”
He knew this house-elf. Though Relf appeared frail and small, his magic was immense—strong enough to carry Wade across the Atlantic.
When the Ministry had hunted Sirius Black, it was Relf who had brought Wade back from America.
And though old, Relf radiated wisdom. He was revered by every house-elf at Hogwarts, a figure of deep respect. Wade had heard his name from Zoe and others more than once.
To the house-elves, Relf was their Dumbledore.
“Good evening,” Relf replied, voice slightly hoarse. “If Dumbledore dared bring him into the school, he’s already ensured the safeguards are in place. You need not worry.”
“Safeguards?” Wade asked. “Vampires feed on instinct. Even a magical covenant may not fully restrain such urges. After all, even unbreakable oaths can be broken—just not without consequence. Death, in most cases.”
He paused. “But if someone truly wants to break free… nothing can hold them.”
Relf lifted his eyes, calm and gentle.
“It’s me,” he said.
Wade blinked.
“I’ve watched werewolves slip out through secret passages at night,” Relf continued. “And I’ve seen you stay on the balcony for nearly an entire evening.”
“I am here, as Dumbledore commanded, to be your guardian.”
(End of Chapter)
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