Michael had already left.
And Wade turned his head and looked at the window glass.
The reflection in the glass showed a figure with gray eyes. They weren't as deep as black eyes nor as bright as blue ones; instead, they resembled the tranquil surface of a lake in autumn and winter, devoid of any intense emotions.
Sometimes, people who made eye contact with him would feel an extra chill, making them wonder if his heart was just as cold.
Through the reflection on the glass, one could see the grounds outside the castle. A group of students, carrying brooms, were walking across the lawn back to the castle in the rain.
Their faces and bodies were covered in mud, as if they had rolled in a mire, and their features were barely recognizable. Yet, among them, the smallest figure stood out conspicuously.
Soon after, a man wrapped in a turban, who was shrinking as if afraid of the cold, dashed across the field of vision.
Not long after, a bat-like figure strode briskly into the castle with his robe flaring high on either side in the wind, as if even the rainwater was intimidated and avoided him. His expression was gloomier than the overcast sky, and the students he passed hurriedly stepped aside in fear.
Wade couldn't help but smile slightly.
Harry Potter.
Voldemort.
Severus Snape.
The Savior, the Dark Lord, and the former Death Eater.
People whose identities were filled with contradictions and even murderous intent coexisted peacefully in the same castle as teachers and students, all just waiting for the moment when the knives would come out.
Thinking of the expression on Michael's face when he left, which was like his soul had been cleansed, Wade's lips curled into a faint smile.
He cleared the clutter on his desk, organized his recent assignments and notes, then slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed for the Astronomy Tower.
—Of course, Harry Potter must join, and he would even help to improve his skills as much as possible. Otherwise, if Voldemort were to be resurrected—or by some butterfly effect gained even more power—who would stand against him?
—The currently weak Wade? Michael, who spends all his time hanging out with girls? Or Dumbledore, who in the story was cursed and fell from the high tower?
Harry Potter, despite all his flaws—recklessness, impulsiveness, lack of self-discipline, and the fact that he excels in only a handful of spells and performs poorly in subjects other than Defense Against the Dark Arts—is undoubtedly a weapon specifically designed to defeat Voldemort.
Setting aside his infancy, ever since he started school, Voldemort has consistently lost to Harry Potter year after year.
In the final year, Harry, as if aided by some divine force, managed to locate all of Voldemort's hidden Horcruxes in a remarkably short time and ultimately buried the Dark Lord for good, while Harry himself emerged almost unscathed.
Call it the protagonist's halo… or the child of destiny…
Wade currently lacks the strength to defeat Voldemort, so he would never refuse such a friend.
Even if one day his power surpasses Voldemort's, he would never shut Harry Potter out—life is unpredictable, and Harry Potter will always be a powerful trump card.
Outside the castle, rain drizzled endlessly. Bolts of lightning streaked across the sky, their bright flashes casting mottled shadows through the windows, appearing suddenly and vanishing just as quickly.
…
"Terrible weather, isn't it?"
Professor Murray poured himself a cup of hot tea, added some milk and sugar after a moment's thought, and then sat back in his chair, and said comfortably.
"Yes," Wade agreed, holding his own cup of tea. He smiled and said:
"But I also think this kind of weather seems perfect for sleeping in. Muggles call this even, continuous sound 'white noise,' believing it can mask other frequencies of sound and improve sleep quality."
As Wade grew more familiar with Professor Murray, he learned that the professor's attitude toward Muggles was open enough that he no longer hesitated to discuss Muggle theories and technologies with him.
"White noise…" Professor Murray mused, then laughed, "They always have some strange and intriguing studies, don't they? I recently saw a research report—hmm, it seemed to be exploring the relationship between the length of the human ring finger and intelligence."
"But there are also some fascinating studies, like the interaction between dreams and reality, time travel, and the nature of extraterrestrial life." Wade thought for a moment and said longingly, "They're also exploring beyond Earth. If interstellar travel ever becomes a reality, I'd love to be one of the passengers."
"I'd look forward to it too, but at my age, I probably won't live to see that day. But you—you've still got a chance, as long as you live well—or perhaps create a Philosopher's Stone like Mr. Nicolas Flamel," Professor Murray chuckled.
Wade smiled as well and said, "I read in a book that the Philosopher's Stone can create the Elixir of Life—so is Mr. Nicolas Flamel still in his youthful form?"
He still remembered Nicolas Flamel from the movies, who resembled a walking pale ghost, with bones so brittle they seemed ready to snap at the slightest touch. He wondered if things would be different in this world.
"Hmm…" Professor Murray pondered for a moment before replying, "I can only say—the Elixir of Life does allow its owner to evade death, but six centuries of accumulated effects are daunting, and the potion cannot fully counteract those effects."
"In that case, living forever doesn't seem all that appealing," Wade tilted his head and thought.
Professor Murray chuckled, "Only someone young and full of life like you would say that so decisively. When you're as old as I am, you'll understand—as one approaches the end of life, the fear of death and the attachment to life make us dread death and yearn for more time."
"Do you feel the same way, Professor Murray?" Wade couldn't help but ask.
"I'm just a mortal, of course, I do," Professor Murray said, caressing his teacup.
"But Albus once said something—'To the well-organized mind, Death is but the next great adventure.' No one knows what the world after death is like—it could be as terrifying as the legends say, as beautiful as the tales suggest, or simply nothingness."
Professor Murray seemed to be lost in thought and paused for a moment before murmuring, "So I both fear death and look forward to the day it comes—I'll keep moving forward and see what the scenery ahead looks like."
Wade watched him quietly.
Professor Murray suddenly snapped out of his reverie and smiled, "These thoughts are too early for you—speaking of which, have you found an answer to the question I gave you earlier?"
"Yes." Wade took a small box out of his pocket and placed it on the table, and then said in a disapproving tone, "But Professor, this is too valuable."
"The worth of a gift doesn't lie in its price but in how you choose to use it," Professor Murray said in a warm and encouraging tone. "Tell me what you think."
Wade opened the box. "This is a piece of Occamy skin—Steven told me about this creature. Its body can grow or shrink at will, becoming as massive as a dragon or small enough to fit into a teapot. It generally feeds on insects and mice."
Professor Murray nodded and asked, "Yes, and what else?"
Wade took a deep breath. "—It's the best material for the Undetectable Extension Charm."
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