Malfoy was so angry his face turned red, but he couldn't say a word in his defense. His past actions spoke for themselves, and no one believed that he hadn't done it on purpose.
"A poor family can only raise these kinds of cheap tricks!"
With a cold snort, Malfoy beckoned to his son, and the two quickly left.
"You shouldn't have paid attention to him, Arthur. That guy's rotten to the core..." Hagrid said, while helping Mr. Weasley smooth out his robe.
Ginny Weasley, who had fallen, hurried to pick up the scattered books on the ground, including the set of books Harry had given her — a complete set of Lockhart's works, ridiculously expensive, something that the Weasley family couldn't afford to buy even if they emptied their vault.
The Weasley brothers and Harry helped her gather the books, and soon they were all picked up. Then, a stranger's hand handed her the last old textbook, asking, "This is the last one, right?"
"Probably… thank you."
Ginny quickly took it, feeling a bit sad that she could only use these old things.
She suddenly realized the voice was unfamiliar. When she looked up, she saw a boy she didn't recognize.
"Who are you...?"
"Wade?" Harry said happily, "You're here to buy books too today?"
"Yeah," Wade said casually. "I heard today is Lockhart's new book release. I'm curious about this adventurer."
"What adventurer?" Ron scoffed. "He's nothing more than a peacock full of hot air!"
"Don't talk nonsense!" Hermione immediately retorted. "Have you even read his books? Gilderoy Lockhart often goes on adventures in desolate places, dealing with the most dangerous creatures!"
Ron's mouth slowly dropped open and he stared at Hermione, who sounded just like his mother. It was as if he was seeing a dragon perform a dance.
"Wake up, Hermione! You can tell just by looking at him, can't you? He's just a pretty boy!" Ron exclaimed incredulously.
His words drew angry glares from many of the surrounding Lockhart fans. If he weren't just a child, he would surely have been beaten up.
Hermione was also furious. "Don't slander him! Gilderoy Lockhart is a very brave man! He can even defeat a werewolf single-handedly!"
At the mention of "werewolf," Harry's expression turned a little uneasy. He quickly tried to change the subject, "Alright, let's stop arguing about this. Wade, have you bought all your books?"
"Yeah, I'm ready to head back," Wade waved. "See you at school."
...
After Steven dropped Wade off at home, Wade opened the door to an empty house. There was no one inside.
He knew that the Greys were organizing an overtime shift for their company's employees today to complete an urgent order, so he wasn't surprised not to see anyone.
Back in his bedroom, Wade pulled out a pencil case and tapped it lightly with his wand.
This level of magic wouldn't trigger the Ministry of Magic's Trace.
The pencil case unfolded layer by layer, transforming into a suitcase.
When Wade opened it, the bottom of the suitcase revealed several boxes of different sizes. Only one of the boxes had something inside.
He opened a flat box and took out a black notebook.
It was a very old diary, with a faded date on the cover indicating it was from fifty years ago. Opening to the first page, there was a blurry name:
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
The same name appeared above the diary in Wade's vision.
Wade picked up a pen and wrote a line on the page:
[It is not our abilities that shape the world, but how we use them.]
The writing flashed on the paper, then was absorbed and disappeared without a trace.
Then, new words appeared on the page:
[It's been a long time since I met someone who shares my thoughts. I guess you must be a very talented young wizard.]
The text flashed briefly, then disappeared, only for a new line to appear on the page:
[But people like us often go misunderstood and unappreciated. I used to feel very lonely. Do you feel the same way?]
—Sorry, I'm not interested in having a heart-to-heart with you.
Without hesitation, Wade shoved the diary back into the box.
As soon as the lid closed, magical chains began to slither over it, wrapping around like vines, forming intricate patterns that eventually locked in place.
He placed the diary as far from the diadem as possible.
Even though both Horcruxes were tightly sealed in magic-shielding boxes, Wade still felt a sense of urgency.
—I need to figure out a way to deal with these Horcruxes... At least get rid of one of them...
He worried that the two might influence each other, potentially causing some sort of magical resonance and escaping their confinement.
...
At six in the evening, the Grey couple finally returned home, bringing back two boxes of pizza from a nearby restaurant.
"Urgent orders are such a hassle. If it weren't for this long-time client, I wouldn't have paid for all that overtime," Fred said, loosening his tie. "Wade, have you been waiting long? Why didn't you watch some TV?"
"I read for a bit. I bought new textbooks from Diagon Alley today."
Wade helped his mother take off her coat and hung it on the rack.
Fred placed a briefcase on the table, saying, "Here's what you asked for... Wade, use it carefully. Don't put yourself in danger."
"I understand, Dad," Wade replied.
"What is it?" Fiona asked curiously. "I asked your father on the way home, but he wouldn't tell me."
Wade smiled and said, "It's magical materials required by school, like fly eyes or toad eggs. Do you want to see?"
He pretended to open the briefcase, and Fiona immediately jumped behind her husband, shutting her eyes and yelling:
"No, no, no! Don't open it! I'll have nightmares if I see that!"
Fred knocked on his son's head, and Wade grinned mischievously.
After dinner, Wade returned to his room and finally opened the briefcase.
Inside, it was packed with personal dossiers, containing photos, names, personalities, family members, and other basic information. Tucked between the papers was a transparent specimen bag with three or four strands of hair.
These were the "magical materials" Fred had collected for him, mostly from prison inmates. Some of the individuals looked dangerous just from their appearance, while others seemed completely harmless.
A few of the samples were gathered from barbershops or hospitals. The people in the photos varied—some were men, others women; some were elderly, and others were children.
Collecting the hair was easy, but gathering information on the hair's owner was much more difficult, especially without hiring anyone else to complete such a crucial task.
Fred had spent a long time, gathering these bit by bit. As for the Polyjuice Potion, Wade had brewed a large batch last term.
Once someone used Polyjuice Potion, even Dumbledore couldn't tell the difference. Barty Crouch had already proven that.
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