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Wizarding world of Harry Potter

Fics on Wizarding world of Harry Potter in different volumesnof this novel

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192 Chs

103

Chapter 103: Deep Sea

Despite this, Wade couldn't afford to wait idly here—while the young wizards ventured deeper, death was unlikely, but injuries were inevitable.

Time ticked by, their whereabouts unknown.

"I'll go check it out," Wade told Padma. "It's nearly curfew. Head back to the common room first. I'll update you through our friend's account if I find anything."

Padma gripped his sleeve, shaking her head vigorously.

"Padma?"

"Michael said the same..." She choked up. "I don't want to wait anymore... Waiting is more unbearable than anything. I'd rather face gods and dark figures with you..."

Wade fell silent for a moment, sighing. "...Alright, follow."

Padma nodded and followed Wade to the fourth floor.

"Meow—"

Mrs. Norris suddenly let out a loud meow, arching her back, blocking their path.

Wade glanced sideways and noticed dried fish scattered on the ground, her stillness giving away her intent.

"Sorry, we need to pass."

They pressed forward. Mrs. Norris bared her teeth, taking two steps back before rolling her eyes and dashing downstairs.

"Stupify!"

Wade waved his wand, a red flash hitting the gray cat's back. She thudded to the floor, sliding to the corridor's side.

"Great—she must be trying to alert Filch," Padma remarked. "How can such an unpleasant cat exist?"

"To her owner, she's the most loyal and good-natured," Wade replied, pushing open the half-closed wooden door. Padma gasped at the sight within.

The fierce three-headed dog tore at a harp, turning to them at the sound, emitting a low growl.

Padma's lips trembled as she spoke with a quiver. "Harry mentioned... if it hears music... it will fall asleep... Can I, can I sing to it?"

In her desperation, she couldn't recall what to sing.

"Music?"

Wade tossed a small ball onto the ground. It rolled, emitting sweet piano music.

"What's this?" Padma asked, bewildered.

"Für Elise, Beethoven's classic," Wade explained.

"No— I meant, what's this little ball?"

Padma scrutinized the ball, which not only played music but also spun and emitted colored lights.

"A music player— the magical version."

"—Your latest invention?"

"Not quite," Wade said. "It's a modification of a Muggle invention."

Knowing of the three-headed dog, Wade had come prepared.

As the first notes filled the air, the once-ferocious dog began to grow drowsy. Before long, it collapsed, sprawling across the floor, six nostrils exhaling foul, hot air, its massive form dominating the space.

Summoning courage, Padma circled cautiously around the sleeping dog.

"I... I heard there's supposed to be a trapdoor here... in the floor..."

Both looked down at the three-headed dog.

"It appears to be guarding it."

Wade incanted a levitation spell, shifting the dog aside to reveal the trapdoor beneath. Grabbing the handle, he pulled it open, greeted immediately by a familiar voice—

"Thank goodness, someone's finally here!" Neville's relieved voice rang out. "Who's up there?"

"Take out your wands, Neville!" Michael cautioned in a low voice. "The one above could be their accomplice!"

Recognizing their voices, Padma felt assured they were safe. She lay on the trapdoor, calling out through tears and laughter, "Michael, are you all alright?"

"Padma!" Several voices exclaimed in surprise.

"Wade's with us too, we're together!" Padma reassured those below.

One by one, they ascended through the trapdoor on brooms—

Michael brought Neville, whose leg was broken and bleeding.

"Thank goodness you're here—the three-headed dog blocked the trapdoor, and despite our efforts, we couldn't get out," Michael explained.

Theo bore a large bruise on his face, numerous narrow wounds hinting at a close encounter with sharp objects;

Ryan's arm twisted at an odd angle, his face contorted in pain;

Most direly injured was Ron, unconscious and bloodied, carried by Hermione.

"Oh no!"

Padma, shocked by their condition, burst into tears. "I... I didn't bring any healing potions!"

"It's alright, I have some," Wade said, pulling magic potion bottles from his bag and passing them around, along with pain relievers. "—and pain reliever."

He couldn't help but admire these children—none cried, screamed, or writhed on the ground despite severe injuries like broken limbs. Many adults couldn't withstand such pain either.

—Perhaps magic endowed them with a natural resilience to pain... or accelerated healing abilities?

Ryan swallowed the pain reliever in one gulp, pale-faced. "Harry's still down there."

"What happened inside?" Padma asked, eyeing the dark abyss with trepidation. "Did you encounter... that person?"

"No," Hermione interjected nervously, crossing her arms. "If Quirrell and Snape sought the Philosopher's Stone, they'd be on the final level... The black flames barred the way, and only one potion could safely pass through them... Harry chose to go alone..."

Padma exclaimed, "Isn't he afraid of death?"

—Of course he was afraid, but he chose to confront it head-on.

Wade's enchanted diary suddenly grew warm in his hand. Opening it, he found a message from McGee: [All is well].

The phrase [All is well] could convey many meanings, but now it meant only one thing—

Dumbledore had returned.

"Let's go to the school infirmary first," Wade said calmly, closing the diary. "Madam Pomfrey will contact Dumbledore immediately, if only for your injuries."

His assurance spurred them on, hastening to the school infirmary. Students they passed stared in awe—perhaps assuming these young wizards had just fought a life-or-death battle.

Arriving at the infirmary, they spotted a tall, slender figure in the distance, silver-white hair trailing almost to his belt.

—Dumbledore hurried toward the infirmary, cradling a black-haired boy in his arms.

"Harry—" Hermione leapt from her broom, rushing over.

Harry Potter lay unconscious, scars marring his body. The lightning-shaped scar on his forehead glowed red and swollen, as if freshly injured, hands appearing scalded.

The girls wept openly.

Wade regarded Dumbledore—

The greatest wizard of his time appeared uncharacteristically anxious, a hint of childish impulsiveness... and something deeper, akin to the unfathomable depths of the sea.