Every time there was a Spells Study Group session, Wade was always the last one to leave.
There were always people who liked to save up their questions and unload them all at the end of the session.
Some would do their homework in advance and discuss spell applications with him. Others seemed to stay behind just to build relationships, often saying meaningless things.
Over time, this naturally dragged the event out by more than half an hour. On his way back to the lounge, Wade also felt thoroughly exhausted.
But for him, these study sessions weren't just about helping others or giving his time.
In the process of teaching others, Wade felt as if he was reorganizing knowledge in his mind, gaining a deeper understanding of spells and sharpening his own thinking.
Moreover, even though the others weren't on Wade's level, their ideas and perspectives still gave him inspiration. By drawing inferences and analyzing thoroughly, it was as if the more he dissected the knowledge, the simpler it became.
As Wade walked, he mentally organized and summarized what he had gained that day. The castle was unusually quiet at this hour, with only the sound of his footsteps echoing through the empty corridors.
"Once I held my head up high, now I tremble in the corner. A little snake with no venom — no one's afraid... la la la la la... no one's afraid…"
From a different floor, Peeves' singing floated over faintly — rough and loud, and sounded like some sort of eerie background music.
Suddenly, Wade felt a chill beside him. A ghost with a blank stare and silver-stained robes drifted through the wall. It looked at Wade, said nothing, then sank down through the floor and disappeared.
Moments later, Wade heard Peeves let out a sharp scream… the sound growing more distant…
The singing stopped.
Once everything around him fell completely silent, a faint sound became clearly audible.
At first, Wade thought it was the pipes, or maybe Moaning Myrtle crying to herself in a toilet stall. But after listening carefully for a few seconds, he realized it was the sound of someone sobbing — quiet, but deeply suppressed.
It was a boy's voice. It sounded familiar.
Wade stood quietly in the hallway. Perhaps the stillness around had made the person let his guard down. Overwhelmed by sorrow, the boy broke into loud sobs and his crying was mixed with heavy breathing and the sound of blowing his nose.
"Damn it… damn it… damn it!"
A faucet turned on and the water came out gushing. Malfoy splashed cold water on his face, only to choke and start coughing violently.
Wade didn't continue to watch someone else's vulnerability and pain. He simply softened his footsteps, changed direction, and quickly left.
…
In the blink of an eye, it was already the morning of October 30th. The entire castle had taken on a fresh look — even the hidden portraits in corners had been wiped clean.
Passing through the entrance hall in the morning, Wade heard Gryffith grumbling loudly, "The dust on my clothes is antique! You little creatures, show some respect!"
But the cleaning crabs ignored him completely, clicking as they crawled right over Gryffith's face, leaving trails of transparent bubbles in their wake. By the time the crabs had passed, the portrait was spotless.
Only Gryffith was upset. For once, he didn't stop students in the hall to nag them, but turned his back gloomily, showing nothing but his silhouette to the crowd.
Then the little crabs clattered over again and cleaned his back as well.
"You ill-mannered little brats, wipe the dirt off your shoes!"
Filch's roar echoed through the hall as two first-year students fled in a panic.
The upcoming grand event had left the caretaker unusually tense. His murky yellow eyes scanned every student like spotlights, barking out orders constantly—
"Clean the mud off your clothes! Every student must remain perfectly tidy!"
"Filthy little slobs—look at those footprints! Your parents ought to be ashamed of you!"
"No eating in the corridors! No scattering crumbs on the floor!"
"He's terrifying," muttered Michael, still looking dazed from getting yelled at just for a bit of dust on his hem. As he sat down next to Wade, his face bore the blank look of someone who'd just been chewed out.
"If someone threw a Dungbomb in the corridor right now, I wouldn't be surprised if Filch lifted a statue and smashed them to death with it!"
"His methods may be extreme, but he's only trying to uphold the school's reputation."
A gentle voice spoke from behind them.
"Oh, you sound just like Hermione," Michael muttered, twitching his lips. "But people who get yelled at don't have the luxury of being so rational."
He turned his head, forced a cute little smile, and spoke in a squeaky voice: "Good morning, Professor Flitwick."
"Good morning!" said Professor Flitwick cheerfully, not even standing as tall as Michael did while sitting. "I hope there aren't any Dungbombs hidden in your dormitory, Michael."
"Of course... of course not," Michael replied sincerely, bowing his head. "I was just saying. But you know me, Professor — I'd never do anything that foolish."
Two passing Gryffindors rolled their eyes at him.
"Excellent," said Professor Flitwick. "Did you know there's some dirt on your elbow?"
He pointed, and as Michael looked down to check, Flitwick gave Wade a quick nod and headed toward the staff table.
Wade casually cast a cleaning spell and eyed Michael curiously. "Where'd you get all that dirt so early in the morning?"
Every night, their clothes were tossed into a dirty laundry basket and cleaned by the house-elves, who always laid out a freshly cleaned, neatly ironed outfit beside their beds by morning.
Of course, some boys tossed their clothes around or stuffed smelly socks under the bed or in their trunks. In those cases, the house-elves wouldn't touch them — but Wade knew Michael wasn't the unhygienic type.
Hearing the question, Michael blinked and gave a mysterious smile. "You're not the only one who gets up early, Wade. But I must say, the Black Lake at dawn is... quite enchanting."
Wade raised an eyebrow knowingly. "You've got a new girlfriend again?"
Michael's lips curled into a lazy smirk, self-satisfied and a little smug. "Mmm... let's just say…"
Suddenly, someone bumped into him from behind, and he nearly face-planted into his cake.
Michael jumped up, furious, only to see Padma and a group of girls walking past, chatting and laughing — not even sparing him a glance.
He suddenly felt a bit guilty, wiped the cream off his nose, and sat down sheepishly.
"Come on, time for class," Wade said, standing up with his bag.
Michael pushed his cake aside and followed him out. Before long, Filch's raspy voice echoed at the entrance again—
"You! Yes, you! What's that on your face? Cream! And it's everywhere! Clean it off immediately or I'll have you scrubbing armor with a toothbrush! I mean it!"
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