Revisiting and organizing his memories took Wade an entire day. By the time he walked out of the Room of Requirement, it was completely dark.
Though both the Room of Requirement and the Ravenclaw common room were on high floors, one was in the main tower and the other at the top of the Ravenclaw tower. The distance between them was considerable. Normally, Wadee would have just used a Summoning Charm to call his broom and fly, but today, he walked slowly along the corridor, sorting his thoughts and planning his next moves.
In the long corridor, his footsteps echoed hollowly. Suddenly, a voice broke the silence—
"Haha… Surprise!"
Peeves suddenly appeared, holding several inky water balloons and aiming them at Wade. Wade swiftly drew his wand, pointed it, and the ink reversed course, splashing all over Peeves' face.
"Ptooey, ptooey-ptooey-ptooey!"
Peeves spat out ink while grumpily cursing as he flew away, leaving the corridor smeared with black ink.
Wade was already very proficient with the Cleaning Charm. He waved his wand a few times, and all the ink vanished, leaving the corridor as pristine as before.
Someone applauded, "Beautiful nonverbal spell!"
Wade turned his head: "Griffiths?"
The red-haired wizard had once again darted into another portrait, following him with a beaming smile and his hands behind his back.
Wade thought about Peeves' sudden appearance and asked, "Peeves wasn't incited by you, was he?"
"Hmm, yeah!" Griffiths admitted frankly, adding, "You looked as if you were caught by some time monster, all deep and scary, so I had Peeves say hello to you—how about it? Feeling much better now?"
Wade wasn't sure what his expression had been before. He rubbed his face, saying helplessly, "Well, thank you very much then!"
"You're welcome, you're welcome. Helping students is just what I do." Griffiths said, beaming, then asked, "What were you thinking about earlier?"
Wade didn't want to discuss that topic and asked, "Have you gotten along better with the portraits in the Entrance Hall lately? They haven't complained to me in a while."
"Uh… that… uh… of course we've gotten along better…" Griffiths stammered.
Wade stopped, frowning. "You wouldn't happen to be…"
"Haha, there were two Hufflepuff students just now who wanted to hear my old stories! I'm off, talk to you next time!" Griffiths said, raising his voice with a guilty air, then hurried out of the portrait and disappeared.
Wade shook his head.
During this time, the name of the talkative Griffiths had gradually become known to more students, because he always liked to chat with people. Sometimes he would suddenly pop out of a portrait and let out a yell, watching startled students fall into a stair trap, then laugh uproariously, practically the Peeves of portraits.
However, while students disliked Peeves, they didn't dislike Griffiths. Besides occasional harmless pranks, he would also tell stories, true or false, and sometimes, seeing a student feeling down, he would comfort them, trying every possible way to make them laugh.
Wade often saw four or five students gathered around Griffiths's portrait, chatting with him. Griffiths, busy with students occupying most of his free time, even harassed other portraits much less often—
Wade had thought it was like this.
But judging by his guilty look just now, there seemed to be another story.
Back in his dormitory, Wade took out the Book of Friends, spoke with his father for a while, then switched to another one.
[Wade: Remus?]
A moment later, Lupin's reply appeared on the paper:
[Lupin: I'm here.]
[Wade: I have something to ask of you—tomorrow morning, please go to Gringotts with my father to withdraw some money, then go to Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley and buy the Vanishing Cabinet in their shop.]
[Lupin: Okay.]
Lupin agreed readily. A moment later, he wrote new words:
[Lupin: But as far as I know, Borgin and Burkes only has one Vanishing Cabinet, and the other is missing. If the other Vanishing Cabinet is damaged, or in a place humans cannot normally access—such as under the sea or buried deep underground—then such a Vanishing Cabinet would be useless and even pose a great danger to the user.]
[Wade: I know—but there's also a Vanishing Cabinet in Hogwarts Castle.]
[Wade: It's worth a try, right?]
[Lupin: I understand. But promise me you won't try it yourself; we can experiment with a rabbit or something first.]
[Wade: Of course, I won't be that reckless.]
Putting away the Book of Friends, Wade felt a sense of anticipation.
Having enemies able to appear anywhere in a supposedly safe fortress would leave one with no sense of security. But if he could leave the castle at any time, that would be wonderful, and he could do so much more.
Wade's mind was filled with many thoughts, and the various changes in the plot—the Chamber of Secrets Basilisk, Peter Pettigrew hiding among Gryffindors, the Quidditch World Cup and Triwizard Tournament, the escaped Barty Crouch, Voldemort's resurrection, the incompetent Ministry of Magic…
And Voldemort's Horcruxes hidden in various places… and the few ways to destroy them—
The Sword of Gryffindor.
Basilisk fangs.
And Fiendfyre.
He still needed to learn the Fiendfyre spell… thinking of Grindelwald's raging inferno that burned half of Paris, and Dumbledore, like a god of fire, conjuring a sea of flames with a flick of his wand…
If he had the same power, would he still need to be so cautious?
Wade wrote down his thoughts on a piece of paper. After reading them for a while, he rolled the paper into a ball and held it close to a candle flame, watching it slowly turn to ash.
The flickering firelight reflected in his pupils, and deep within his eyes, another scene seemed to play out—Hogwarts engulfed by a tide of Death Eaters, trolls and Acromantulas rampaging, bodies strewn across the cold ground.
In the flames of war, life was so fragile.
And then there were the unwritten parts of the story—after Dumbledore's death, Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic were almost entirely occupied by the Dark Lord's followers, forcing the protagonist trio to flee… In that brief yet long year, how many non-pureblood wizards were persecuted?
What about Muggles? And Squibs, whom no one ever bothered with? Were they spared because they were weak, or did they, being weak, simply become cold numbers in a newspaper when they were killed?
Wade's eyes suddenly flashed with the smiling faces of Ferdinand and Fiona, then two other faces, once blurry in his memory, now clearly showing smiles tinged with sadness.
He covered his eyes with his hand, sighing tiredly.