"Sorry about that, Wade." Fred wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes. "We're still fine-tuning the effect of this Canary Biscuit."
George turned to the others and reassured them: "Don't worry, we only put that one canary biscuit on the plate. The rest are normal—you can eat as much as you like."
But no one touched the biscuits again. In fact, they eyed all the other food with suspicion, half-afraid there might be a canary biscuit hidden inside a sandwich.
"This spell is quite interesting." Wade brushed a few lingering feathers off his clothes, and spoke with enthusiasm. "But don't you think the canary it creates is too large? And the transformation time is really short—it's not very practical."
"Wade!" Hermione quickly raised her voice. "Stop upgrading their prank products!"
"Exactly—it's a prank product," George nodded. "We don't need realism. All we need is laughter, right?"
Fred grinned. "Spot on, brother! If it were too realistic, it'd be boring. Who'd want to buy some boring, honest magic trick?"
George added: "Actually, we're working on a new product. After we graduate, we're going to open a Weasley Brothers' Joke Shop in Diagon Alley. It'll be even better than Zonko's!"
"We've actually saved enough money to open the shop already," said Fred. "But if we drop out to run it now, Mum will absolutely lose her mind!"
"Just two more years, Fred. Hang in there!"
"You too, George!"
The twins kept joking back and forth, and everyone laughed along—everyone except Hermione, that is.
Meanwhile, Wade kept turning the slender feather between his fingers and his eyes flickered with thoughtful light.
If this instant transformation magic could be improved, it would certainly have surprising effects in real combat…
And with just a biscuit to complete the transformation, it was far more convenient than spending months—or even years—risking your life to master Animagus magic.
In other words, if he ever needed to hide his Animagus identity, then a canary biscuit… no, a falcon biscuit would make a perfect excuse.
Wade touched his chin, his thoughts already drifting far away.
"Um, Wade…"
Neville patted Ryan's shoulder, swapped seats with him, then nervously edged closer to Wade.
"What is it?" Wade asked.
"Well… I wanted to ask… about the Daydream Quill…"
Neville took a deep breath, and his robe sleeve trembled slightly where his hands rested on his lap.
"I mean… if I write down my dreams with a Daydream Quill, is there any way to… to let other people immerse themselves in them too?"
His eyes shone with cautious hope.
Wade glanced around at the noisy Great Hall, then stood up. "Let's talk outside."
"Okay." Neville exhaled in relief and hurried after him.
Theo turned his head, glanced at them, and asked Ryan, "What are those two up to?"
"No idea…" Ryan shrugged. "But it must be something really important to Neville. He looked awfully nervous."
Theo's first reaction was: "Did Malfoy bully him again?"
Ryan shook his head. "I don't think so." He glanced toward the Slytherin table, saw no sign of that pale blond head, and sighed.
"Malfoy's had a rough time this term. He's lucky if he's not being bullied himself—he probably doesn't have the energy to bully anyone else."
Hearing this, Harry suddenly realized it had been quite a while since Malfoy had shown up with his gang to make trouble for him.
…
The noise of the Great Hall gradually faded behind them as Wade and Neville walked across the snowy lawn outside the castle. Their boots crunched with each step, crunch, crunch, on the thick blanket of snow.
With no one else around, Neville finally felt able to honestly explain the reason behind his request.
"My parents… because of certain reasons, they lost their sanity. They both live in the long-term care ward at St. Mungo's. Sometimes, they don't even recognize me."
What Neville didn't know was that Wade already understood what had happened to his parents. Wade had no intention of publicizing their tragic story; he simply listened and tried to keep his tone calm.
Even so, Neville felt a raw, bleeding pain, like an old wound being torn open. If it weren't Wade—the friend who had always helped him—Neville doubted he would have had the courage to share this with a classmate at all.
His grandmother always said his parents were heroes, that there was nothing to hide, that he ought to face it bravely, chest held high. But Neville… he just didn't want others to know.
In a trembling voice, he said, "The healers at St. Mungo's say… there's little chance of recovery. But if I could let them feel happiness in a dream, I think… I think…"
His voice broke, and he couldn't go on.
Wade turned his gaze aside, avoiding Neville's expression.
"The Daydream Quill only works on the dreamer themselves. The bond with its user begins the moment the quill touches the page. Sharing or transferring that is very difficult."
Neville's shoulders slumped. "Sorry… I thought maybe…"
"But that doesn't mean there's no way to improve your parents' condition." Wade fixed his eyes on the top of Neville's head. "It just might require you to take some risks."
"What is it?" Neville asked eagerly, lifting his head. "I'm not afraid of danger!"
Then, belatedly, he added, "Do you know the reason why my parents… became like this?"
"No matter the cause—as long as it's of the mind—there's always hope for improvement," Wade said softly.
He looked at the sudden brightness in Neville's eyes, hesitated for a moment, then slipped off his wrist a stone necklace that had been wrapped around several times.
When he handed it over, Wade felt a pang of reluctance, but still placed the necklace into Neville's hand.
"This necklace will let you enter your parents' spiritual world—speak with them, and try to awaken the part of themselves that's been hidden away."
Wade recited the incantation for Neville, then added: "But everyone's spiritual world is unique. If your parents' spiritual world is already shattered… I can't predict what you'll encounter once you go in. It could even cause harm to you."
"So, think it through carefully. You must have someone you trust stand by, ready to wake you at any time, before you attempt it. Remember that?"
"I'll remember!"
Neville nodded vigorously. He clutched the stone necklace tightly, as if it were his one and only hope.
Not wanting to waste another second, he bolted toward Gryffindor Tower, eager to share the good news with his grandmother.
Wade turned his gaze away, touching his now-empty wrist, feeling a faint sense of loss.
He was about to head back to the Umbrella Room when he suddenly heard the sound of hurried footsteps again.
Neville came running back, face flushed, panting heavily, the hair on his forehead sticking up in disarray from his frantic dash.
"Uh… Wade…" Neville stammered awkwardly. "The incantation to activate the necklace—could you… write it down for me? I… I've already forgotten…"
At the sight of his flustered state, Wade couldn't help but laugh.
"All right. Just be careful not to lose it."
He conjured a sheet of parchment and, in neat flowing script, wrote down the spell along with the key points of pronunciation.
Neville received it like a precious treasure, tucked it safely into his pocket, and once again thanked Wade sincerely. This time he slowed his pace just a little, but still ran toward Gryffindor Tower with a spring in his step.
At the corner, Neville suddenly turned back and flashed Wade a radiant smile— the first time Wade had ever seen such brightness on his face.
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