Upon suddenly taking in so many injured students, Madam Pomfrey thought a Dark wizard army had attacked Hogwarts. Fortunately, for wizards, broken bones were minor issues, and she quickly treated them all.
The problem was Harry Potter, who remained unconscious. After speaking with Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey arranged a private room for Harry.
Wade took out the packed food and shared it with everyone—they seemed to realize only then how ravenously hungry they were. In between bites, the young wizards also told Wade what had happened beneath the trapdoor.
To protect the Philosopher's Stone, the school's professors had set up numerous defenses. First was the Devil's Snare laid beneath the trapdoor to prevent them from falling to their deaths. Unlucky Neville chose a bad landing spot, breaking his leg at the first obstacle and had to wait nearby afterward.
Next was catching the correct key among a swarm of bird-like keys. Harry fully utilized his Seeker talent to catch the key, while Theo was badly scratched protecting the others.
Then came a dangerous game of Wizard's Chess. Ron, who went down with Harry, won the game but was knocked out by a heavy blow to the head from an opposing chess piece and was also still unconscious.
Following that was a troll. It was larger and fiercer than the one they encountered on Halloween. The young wizards used every trick they knew to defeat it. Ryan broke his arm there, and everyone else sustained some injuries.
Wade was a little surprised: "—A troll?"
"Yeah, a stinking troll," Theo sighed. "I can't believe you guys defeated that monster half a year ago without a scratch!"
"If the troll was a hurdle set by Quirrell, then the one on Halloween must have been released by him to create chaos too," Michael said. "I heard he even pretended to faint back then!"
Wade frowned slightly, saying nothing more.
—The original trio hadn't encountered a troll.
A butterfly effect? Or...
"The last challenge, we were trapped in a room by fire. Professor Snape's potions: one could take us forward, one could take us back, and the rest were poison and nettle wine."
Hermione's lips trembled slightly as she spoke. "I solved Snape's riddle. Harry went ahead, and the rest of us each drank a potion, then found Ron and Neville, intending to go back the way we came... You know the rest."
She tightly wrung her fingers, her tone still calm, rational, and articulate. But her hair seemed to be standing on end slightly, and her body was as taut as a drawn bowstring.
"Hermione!" Padma suddenly leaned over and hugged Hermione. "Don't worry... and don't blame yourself... Confronting that person was Harry's choice, not your fault... and he'll recover, won't he?"
She gently pulled away the girl's hands, revealing blood marks on Hermione's knuckles where she had scratched herself.
"You don't understand, Padma."
Hermione leaned on Padma's shoulder, tears falling without warning.
She choked out, "The trapdoor below was bottomless. Harry jumped first, not knowing there was Devil's Snare to catch us... He also said... if anything happened to him, we should go back immediately... I really..."
Padma gently stroked her back, subtly understanding why Hermione was crying now.
It wasn't just out of concern for their unconscious friend... it was also because, after returning to a safe environment, the despair and fear of watching their friend go to what could have been death surged from deep within their hearts...
She looked around at the others—though the boys weren't crying, something in their brows seemed different... as if, quietly, everyone had undergone some kind of transformation...
Suddenly, there was a commotion at the door—
"No, Potter hasn't woken up, no visitors allowed!" Madam Pomfrey said sternly.
"Madam, we want to visit Theo and Ryan—we're all from Hufflepuff House," someone pleaded at the door.
"...Alright, no shouting," Madam Pomfrey conceded.
A bustling group of people then squeezed through the doorway—these students had likely seen Theo and the others pass through the corridor injured, riding brooms, and had all come running to get news.
As the injured were surrounded by "visitors," Michael exchanged a look with Wade—probably because both of them were unharmed, they were largely ignored by the others, who seemed to view them as mere spectators.
So, the two of them successfully squeezed out of the hospital wing.
"I want to go back to the Chamber of Secrets," Michael said to Wade as they reached the door, exhaling. "Since Dumbledore brought Harry out, the flames blocking the way might be gone... I want to see what happened in that last chamber."
"We'll go together," Wade said.
"Of course," Michael smiled. "I bet you're curious too—how Harry Potter once again escaped disaster."
Actually, Wade wasn't curious.
He just... wanted to see.
The obstacles beneath the trapdoor were almost completely destroyed. Riding their brooms, the two smoothly passed through the stone corridor and the brightly lit rooms until they reached the end.
It was a reasonably spacious room with an arched ceiling and tall stone columns embedded in the stone walls. Remnants of flames still burned around the edges.
A giant mirror also stood in the room, its golden frame richly decorated, inscribed with a string of text, and supported by two claw-shaped feet.
"Look, Wade."
Michael suddenly crouched down, poked a wizard's robe beside a step with his wand, and whispered, "If I'm not mistaken, this is Professor Quirrell's robe—look, the turban's here too—"
His words suddenly trailed off as he looked in horror at the dust wrapped within the robe, slowly backing away stiffly.
Wade, instead, stepped forward. He conjured a cylindrical bottle and collected some of the dust from the floor.
"Wade!" Michael felt his scalp prickle with dread, sharply saying, "Do you know what that is?"
"Professor Quirrell's remains—and the Dark Lord's vessel."
Wade capped the bottle, looking at the ashen dust inside. "What if it could be useful?"
Suddenly, as if something had been awakened, an eerie voice came from all directions—
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..."
"Disturb the dead, the living shall die... The dead are nameless, granted no reward..."
"Wade Grey... Michael Corner... Do you wish to embark on the journey of eternal rest..."
Michael's limbs suddenly went weak, and goosebumps covered his entire body. He grabbed Wade's arm, his face ashen, and stammered, "Wa-Wade... you, you, you quickly throw those things away..."
Wade too felt a chill run through him for a moment, but then, he suddenly realized something—
"Weasley?"
Wade said softly.