Even so, Wade couldn't just sit and wait—the young wizards who had gone to face the challenges were unlikely to die, but injuries were inevitable.
So much time had passed, and Wade had no idea which stage they had reached by now.
"I'm going to check it out," Wade said to Padma. "It's almost curfew. You should head back to the common room. If I find anything, I'll send you a message through the book."
But Padma grabbed his sleeve tightly and shook her head vigorously.
"Padma?"
"Michael said the same thing to me…" the girl choked up. "I don't want to wait anymore... waiting is worse than anything. I'd rather face... the Dark Lord... with you."
Wade was silent for a moment, then sighed. "…Alright, just stay close behind me."
Padma nodded and followed Wade step by step as they entered the Third-floor passage.
"Meeooow—"
Suddenly, Mrs. Norris let out a sharp yowl, arching her back and blocking their way.
Wade glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. The fish treats he had thrown earlier were still on the ground, untouched.
"Sorry, but we have to get through."
As they walked forward, Mrs. Norris bared her teeth and retreated a few steps, then darted off quickly, heading downstairs.
"Stupefy!" (Stunning Spell)
Wade flicked his wand, and a red flash struck the gray cat's back. She collapsed with a thud and slid to the side of the corridor.
"Thank goodness—she was probably going to alert Filch," Padma couldn't help but say, "How can a cat be so annoying!"
"In her owner's eyes, she's the most loyal and diligent cat."
As Wade spoke, he pushed open the half-closed wooden door. Padma gasped at the sight inside.
A terrifying, vicious three-headed dog was gnawing at a harp. The moment it heard the door, the beast turned toward them, growling deeply from its throats.
Padma's lips trembled as she stammered, "Harry said... as long as it hears music... it will fall asleep... S-should I sing to it?"
But in her panic, she couldn't remember any song to sing.
"Music, huh?"
Wade tossed a small ball onto the ground. It rolled for a moment before a pleasant piano melody began to play.
"What's that?" Padma asked, dazed.
"Für Elise, a classic by Beethoven," Wade replied.
"No—I meant, what is that ball?"
Padma was staring at the ball, which not only played music but also spun and emitted colorful lights.
"A music player—the magical version."
"—Is this your new invention?"
"Not really," Wade said. "It's a Muggle invention. I just made a few magical modifications."
Since Wade knew there was a three-headed dog in the chamber, he had come prepared.
From the moment the first note played, the once-ferocious dog began to grow drowsy. Soon, it collapsed on the floor, fast asleep, its six nostrils puffing out foul-smelling hot air, while its massive body took up most of the room.
Gathering her courage, Padma circled around the slumbering beast.
"I... I heard there should be a trapdoor here... on the floor…"
Both of them glanced at the three-headed dog.
"Looks like it's lying on top of it."
Wade cast the Levitation Charm, and the dog was gently floated to the side, continuing to sleep. Sure enough, a trapdoor appeared on the floor. Wade grabbed the handle and opened it, and immediately, a familiar voice could be heard—
"Thank goodness, someone finally came!" Neville's relieved voice echoed up. "Who's up there?"
"Draw your wand, Neville!" Michael warned in a low voice. "Whoever's up there might be one of their allies!"
Hearing their voices, Padma realized they were okay. She leaned over the trapdoor, both crying and laughing, and said, "Michael, are you all alright?"
"Padma!" several voices called out in surprise and relief.
"Wade is here too, we're together!" Padma informed the group inside.
One by one, they flew up through the trapdoor on their brooms—
Michael was helping Neville, whose leg was broken and bleeding.
"Thank goodness you came— the three-headed dog blocked the trapdoor, and we tried everything but couldn't get out," Michael explained.
Theo's face was bruised, and he had many small, narrow cuts all over his body, as if slashed by sharp blades.
Ryan's arm was bent at an odd angle, and he was sweating profusely from the pain.
The worst off was Ron, who was being carried by Hermione—he was unconscious, with blood all over his head.
"Oh my God!"
Seeing the state they were in, Padma was shocked, frozen in place, as tears immediately welled up in her eyes.
"I-I didn't bring any dittany!" she stammered in panic.
"It's okay, I've got some." Wade pulled out a few vials of potions from his bag and handed them over: "—and painkillers too."
To be honest, Wade was impressed by these kids—despite having such severe injuries, like broken limbs, not one of these eleven- or twelve-year-olds was crying, screaming, or writhing in pain. Many adults couldn't manage that.
—Maybe magic gave them some kind of natural resilience to pain... or the ability to heal quickly?
Ryan gulped down a painkiller, and said with a pale face, "Harry's still down there."
"What happened down there?" Padma asked, fearfully eyeing the dark hole. "Did you encounter… that person?"
"No," Hermione said, crossing her arms anxiously. "If Quirrell and Snape want to steal the Philosopher's Stone, they must be in the final room…
There's a wall of black flames blocking the way, and there was only enough potion for one person to pass safely through the fire… so Harry chose to go alone."
Padma gasped, "Is he not afraid of dying?"
—Of course he's afraid, but he still chose to face it.
Wade's Book of Friends suddenly grew warm in his hands. When he opened it, there was a message from Maggie: [It's over. ]
The phrase "It's over" could mean many things, but at this moment, it signified only one thing—
Dumbledore is back.
"Let's head to the hospital wing," Wade said calmly as he closed the book. "Even if it's just because of your injuries, Madam Pomfrey will contact Dumbledore immediately."
This last line convinced everyone. They rushed to the hospital wing as quickly as they could. Along the way, the students they passed wore expressions of shock—probably assuming these young wizards had just been in a deadly brawl.
As they neared the hospital wing, they spotted a tall, thin figure in the distance, with long silver hair almost reaching his waist.
—Dumbledore was hurrying toward the hospital wing, carrying a black-haired boy in his arms.
"Harry—" Hermione leapt off her broom and rushed toward him.
Harry Potter's eyes were closed, and his body was covered in wounds. The lightning-shaped scar on his forehead was red and swollen as if freshly injured, and his hands looked scalded, like they had been burned by boiling water.
Tears immediately began to fall from the girls' eyes.
Wade looked at Dumbledore—
The greatest white wizard did not have his usual calm, gentle expression, nor the slightly childlike eccentricity he sometimes displayed… Instead, his face was filled with unmistakable worry.
But beyond the worry, there was something else… an emotion as deep as the sea…
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