The group quickly cast spells, and then watched as the filthy, chaotic kitchen transformed before their eyes.
Heavy iron pots and pans gleamed brightly as they were scrubbed clean. The ancient grease stains on the stone walls and floors dissolved and vanished, while the wooden table, starting from the bottom, turned a radiant shade of champagne.
The grimy, grease-laden furniture was passed from one tiny doll-like figure to the next. Each figure sprayed cleaner, scrubbed, rinsed, and wiped in turn. By the time the last one was placed back into the cupboards, everything was spotless.
Even Neville and the Weasleys, who came from traditional wizarding families, had to admit that nothing they had seen before felt more magical than this scene.
Michael, with eyes brimming with tears, said, "Wade… you should've come to help earlier. I had no idea you had so many tools prepared for this!"
"Not everything here is mine," Wade explained. "Mr. Marchionne lent me his latest batch of products. This is a good chance to test their performance."
"I've always wanted one of these," Neville said enviously, "but magic pocket pets are so expensive. Gran won't agree to buy me one."
"The Aslan Magic Workshop has been working on lowering costs and increasing production. Magic pets will definitely become more affordable in the future," Wade reassured him.
"I've been debating what to give everyone for Christmas this year—looks like this solves my problem."
"That won't do!" Neville's face turned red as he waved his hands frantically. "That's way too valuable! I can't accept it."
"These are expensive in shops, but for me, they only cost the production price—around 2 Galleons," Wade said casually.
Neville breathed a sigh of relief. If the cost was only two Galleons, he could figure out an appropriate way to reciprocate.
The boy, both excited and embarrassed, stammered out a thank-you.
"There's no need to be so formal," Wade said with a smile. "As long as you don't mind, everyone will be getting the same gift."
The group laughed, recalling that last Christmas, Wade had given everyone the Book of Friends.
Nobody thought he was being stingy or undervaluing his gifts by calculating costs.
While the memory was amusing, there was also a hint of admiration—who wouldn't want to be someone like Wade? The kind of person who could casually create fun, useful items that brought so much joy to others?
.....
Once the house's resistant magic relented, the efficiency of the cleaning crabs and the magic doll figures soared. The wizards mainly played a supporting role, stepping in to handle tasks the enchanted tools couldn't manage.
For instance, dealing with the Doxies hiding behind the curtains or the Boggart in the desk drawer.
The two adult wizards took the opportunity to turn these tasks into a lesson for the younger wizards. If it wasn't so late, Lupin would've insisted that each of them face the Boggart themselves.
"It sees into your heart and transforms into your greatest fear," Lupin explained.
"The spell to counter it is simple, but don't underestimate this creature. Some wizards are so frightened when facing a Boggart that they forget how to use magic entirely."
As he spoke, he drove the floating full moon—a manifestation of this particular Boggart—into a trunk, seemingly intending to keep it for later.
Some seemingly ordinary objects, like a snuff box or tweezers, suddenly sprang to life during cleaning. Clearly, these items had been cursed with powerful dark magic.
One unfortunate magic doll had its neck snapped by a rogue pair of tweezers, while two others were damaged beyond repair, leaving the young wizards deeply upset.
These magic dolls weren't simple tools like brooms or dustpans. With their human-like appearance and tireless work ethic, their realistic cries of pain when damaged tugged at everyone's heartstrings.
The dead seemed almost like real companions, to the point where Hermione couldn't hold back a few tears. Embarrassed to be seen by the others, she turned away and discreetly wiped the corners of her eyes.
Everyone pretended not to notice.
When Ginny first arrived, she was quite reserved, like an ordinary, shy little girl. But soon, her combat ability during the expulsion of the Boggart showcased a strength far beyond her age, leaving everyone in awe.
What surprised Wade even more was Percy.
Percy, who had a rather unimpressive image in the original story, now displayed remarkable capabilities.
After getting through the initial adaptation phase, he quickly began organizing the group's work, assigning tasks so that instead of doing whatever they felt like, everyone worked in cooperation.
Although Wade thought there was nothing wrong with a mix of work and play, this new efficiency was clearly higher. After organizing the bedrooms, they even had time to tackle the garden.
Percy's flaws, however, were equally obvious. Every third sentence he uttered referenced his prefect status. He carried himself with an air of authority, which didn't take long to crumble under the twins' relentless teasing.
Dinner was prepared by Kreacher.
The house-elf effortlessly served up a feast for everyone, demonstrating exceptional culinary skills. The French onion soup he made received unanimous praise.
Unfortunately, their joy turned into trouble—they laughed and made so much noise that they accidentally woke Mrs. Black.
Her portrait erupted in a piercing scream:
"Filthy scum! Blood traitors! Damned Mudbloods! How dare you desecrate our house! Traitors! Kreacher! You've betrayed me too! Betrayed the Blacks!"
Other portraits joined in the cacophony.
Kreacher's face turned deathly pale. His frail body trembled, and with tears streaming, he said, "Kreacher… Kreacher has always been loyal to the great Black family!"
Suddenly, he rushed to the fireplace, grabbed a red-hot poker, and aimed it at himself.
"Wait! Stop!"
Harry lunged forward, pinned Kreacher to the ground, and tried to grab his arm to prevent him from hurting himself. But Kreacher had already branded his stomach, filling the room with the stench of burnt flesh.
The girls were stunned, and then several boys ran over to help restrain Kreacher, finally stopping his self-harming act.
Lupin hurried to pull the curtain shut, but this time it proved extremely difficult. Sirius, meanwhile, sat dazed in his seat, head bowed and motionless.
Wade covered his ears with one hand, then pulled out a Book of Friends and quickly scribbled something on one of its pages.
Afterward, he stopped Lupin and shook his head, signaling everyone to leave the curtains open for now.
Before long, a figure appeared in the blank portrait of a third-floor bedroom. Moving swiftly from one portrait to another, it soon reached the hall.
As this figure passed through each portrait, the occupants fell silent one by one. It wasn't long before the figure reached the portrait of Sirius's mother, Walburga Black.
"Walburga!" the figure said.
The old lady's screaming suddenly stopped, and her darting eyes fixed on the visitor. Her expression was no longer deranged but carried an air of arrogance and defiance.
After a moment, she spoke in a hoarse voice, "Phineas, what are you doing here?"
Lupin was taken aback. It was the first time he realized that this portrait was capable of saying anything other than screams and insults.
The figure who had entered the painting sighed and said, "Walburga, you should be calling me Great-Grandfather."
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