44

Chapter 44: The First Alchemical Work

Wade suddenly turned to look at Michael.

Michael regarded him quizzically. "Have you never considered confronting him about this?"

Wade hesitated.

In truth, he had not.

His prior knowledge of the plot somewhat clouded his judgment—Wade had known from the outset that Voldemort was behind Quirrell's actions and that no fatalities had occurred that year. He harbored a sense of superiority as a "traveler" and "foreseer," almost adopting a game-like mentality. Upon discovering Voldemort's secret, he chose to feign negligence rather than assign blame elsewhere.

Under Michael's scrutiny, Wade meticulously reviewed the entire situation—from his own reflections to Dumbledore's potential deliberations and the likely outcomes for those involved.

He concluded that he still saw no reason to question or resent Dumbledore.

"Why?" Michael asked, puzzled. "He's the headmaster; his duty is to ensure our safety."

"What would I gain by questioning him?" Wade responded earnestly. "Watch Dumbledore express regret? Demand an apology from him? What good would it do? Resenting Dumbledore over this would only create distance between us in the future and potentially put us in harm's way."

Michael was rendered speechless.

"There's no point dwelling on what's already happened, Michael," Wade finally said. "Yelling at the only person capable of protecting us, questioning him, or challenging his decisions would be even more foolish. Our confidence stems from his favor. Without it, we're defenseless."

Michael remained silent for a long while before asking softly, "Aren't you aggrieved by this?"

"No," Wade replied firmly. "If this experience taught me anything, it's that—"

"Firstly, don't place all your hopes on others."

"Secondly, those in power can act with impunity."

"Thirdly... when you can't match others, endure."

"That's just the way the world works—it always has."

...

Wade imparted these sensible words to Michael, though in truth, he wasn't entirely unaffected.

Several nights, he awoke to find flashes of green light—a harbinger of death—in his dreams. Sometimes, a cruel, grotesque voice echoed in his mind, belonging to a noseless, bald monster.

During the latter half of the night, Wade would gaze at the stars painted on his ceiling. Unable to sleep, he often resorted to reading books.

He began dedicating more time to studying and alchemy.

In the final week before Christmas, Wade completed his first independent alchemical work.

On pale yellow parchment, golden rays formed intricate, geometric patterns. Inner and outer circles revolved at different speeds, ancient magical texts intermittently glowing with golden light.

Wade discerned the flow of magic, the workings of the spell. He sensed where adjustments were needed, where materials required replacement.

After some time, his eyes grew tired. He closed them, resting briefly. Upon reopening them, the parchment before him appeared ordinary once more.

Having completed his inaugural alchemical work, Wade's vision underwent a transformation—

In addition to identifying people's true names and spell-casting techniques, Wade discovered he could perceive magic diagrams, flow patterns, utilized spells, and inscribed magical texts within alchemical items.

However, this ability demanded intense focus and concentration; any distraction caused this special vision to vanish.

It was a useful skill, yet Wade wished his "golden finger" had come with an instruction manual.

Initially, he had imagined a future as an Auror—his eyes uncovering secrets like Polyjuice Potions or human transfigurations.

Later, he pondered if teaching might suit him better. Providing one-on-one guidance to students, achieving a success rate near but not quite 100%.

Now, Wade considered himself a natural-born alchemist.

Had he not encountered alchemy, he wondered if he would ever have discovered this hidden ability within his eyes.

During Thursday's tutoring session, Wade submitted his repeatedly refined work to Professor Murray.

"Let me see... a piece of parchment?" Professor Murray adjusted his glasses, preempting Wade's introduction. Slowly, he touched the seemingly ordinary parchment with his slender fingers.

"Hmm... standard parchment, infused with traces of mercury, stonefish oil, and mountain sage—not particularly rare materials." Professor Murray murmured an incantation, his fingers tracing the magic circuit. "Transformation spell, association spell, dispelling spell... and concealment spell—ingenious. A very clever idea indeed—"

He glanced up at Wade, eyes gleaming with surprise. "I assume you still possess the same parchment?"

"Yes, Professor," Wade chuckled, retrieving a self-bound notebook from his bag, "In fact, I have a stack of them!"

Professor Murray smiled, seating himself. After a moment's reflection, he inscribed a sentence on the parchment in his hand—

"Extraordinary wisdom is humanity's greatest treasure."

The words appeared simultaneously on both parchments, identical in content and placement.

"A profound truth," Professor Murray confirmed. "The structure of this magic circuit is remarkably stable. Even I cannot alter it... with virtually no distance limitation, information can be transmitted instantly—"

Pacing the room, Professor Murray muttered inaudibly, his brows furrowing.

Moments later, he turned abruptly, striding toward Wade. Placing a hand on his shoulder, the professor exclaimed, "My boy! Do you realize? You're poised to change the world! This invention could revolutionize everything! It surpasses all my previous creations!"

"Hard to believe you're only eleven years old!"

"It's just parchment, yet it represents more than itself! It's poised to transform how wizards communicate!"

"Why has no one conceived this before? It's simplicity itself, yet utterly brilliant!"

Observing Professor Murray's exhilaration and impassioned demeanor, Wade's heart raced. He fought the urge to retreat, his fingers tensing—almost reaching for his wand.

In that instant, he recalled numerous historical precedents—figures like Song Zhiwen, who persecuted others for their poems, and Newton, who suppressed rival scholars.

Wade's senses sharpened, as if transported back to the day he first heard Voldemort's voice through a wall.

He imagined Dumbledore's calm, azure gaze fixed upon him.

Quietly, he grasped a button-sized bean—a safeguard he had prepared for himself.

Striving to remain modest and composed, Wade smiled, "It's not my invention—I merely adapted the Muggle network communication model. Without your invaluable guidance, Professor, I could never have achieved this."