The beds in the hospital wing weren't very large, but for a wizard of Wade's caliber, space was hardly an issue.
With his wand conveniently placed by his pillow, Wade easily enlarged the bed until it could fit five or six people without a problem. The three of them slept soundly and woke up to daylight.
Madam Pomfrey appeared with a tray of potions. She watched closely with a stern face as Wade drank the potion, then gave him a quick check-up before signaling that he was free to leave.
None of them dared to breathe too loudly. After Madam Pomfrey left, Ryan whispered, "Madam Pomfrey seemed angry."
"Of course! She despises students who don't take care of themselves." Theo added, and then said, sounding surprised: "I'm amazed she didn't scold you."
"Maybe because I'm a patient?" Wade replied casually.
In truth, he knew the real reason: he often delivered potions he'd brewed during Snape's lessons to Madam Pomfrey. This had earned him a bit of leniency.
At least she hadn't scolded him publicly. Comparing it to how she treated others, Wade even felt a little touched.
The three of them tidied up the hospital bed, gathered their belongings, and Wade pulled back the curtain.
With a swish, numerous pairs of eyes turned to look at them.
Wade now fully understood why Theo and Ryan had decided to stay and keep watch.
The hospital wing had about ten beds, most of which were occupied by Slytherins—classmates who had been in yesterday's lesson. Wade even spotted Goyle, who he distinctly remembered stepping on.
In the wizarding world, injuries caused by spells healed much more slowly than physical wounds. So while Wade could leave the hospital wing this morning, many of the others would have to stay for a few more days.
They silently stared at the main culprit—or at least one of them. Nobody said a word, but neither did anyone jump up to attack him.
Despite being collateral damage, most of the Slytherins now had a greater sense of respect for Wade.
He isn't a pure-blood… not even a half-blood… So what?
Even all the Slytherins in his year combined weren't his match.
The only reasonable response they could muster was to not speak to him.
When the three of them cautiously left the hospital wing, they found Michael lingering just outside, peeking in.
"What's with that look?" Ryan asked curiously.
"I'm worried Madam Pomfrey will see me. She scolded us pretty badly yesterday," Michael admitted, sneaking another glance inside.
He also noticed the expressions on the Slytherins' faces, then snickered and said:
"Wade, would you believe me if I told you… that even though they're acting all cold and distant now, almost every Slytherin would jump at the chance to be your friend if you extended a hand?"
"Forget it," Wade said. "Did you see Dumbledore this morning?"
"No," Michael replied, "but I think he's still at the school—I saw an owl flying out of the headmaster's office window with a package this morning."
Theo asked, "Wade, do you have Dumbledore's Book of friends?"
"I do, but I'd prefer to talk to him in person," Wade said.
Even in face-to-face conversations, Wade found it hard to fully grasp Dumbledore's thoughts, but at least he could glean something from his expressions and body language. Communicating through the book would reveal nothing.
Dumbledore didn't show up at breakfast, but when Wade sent a message, he quickly replied:
[Dumbledore: I think we can meet at 2 p.m. I recall you don't have any classes then—oh, and the password is 'strawberry ice cream.'"]
With that, the morning Charms class felt particularly drawn out for Wade.
Professor Flitwick, who seemed to have heard about the events in Defense Against the Dark Arts, spent half the class recounting stories of his younger days as a duelist and sharing some practical dueling tips.
"Move quickly, children! Don't stand there like trolls, waiting to get hit by your opponent!"
Professor Flitwick swung his wand energetically as he shouted. He even demonstrated, allowing several students to attack him at once. Without casting a single offensive spell, he effortlessly dodged all their attacks using only defensive maneuvers.
Naturally, the class concluded that Flitwick's agility was closely related to his small stature, and they stubbornly refused to admit they might have been the trolls or gorillas the professor referred to.
"Alright, alright, take a breather," Flitwick said a few minutes later, panting slightly.
Once the students settled down, he added, "Remember, avoiding your opponent's spells is more important than defeating them! No matter who you're fighting, don't rush to claim victory. Prioritizing your safety always comes first!"
He then shared a few anecdotes, including one about an overconfident wizard who was hit by a Tarantallegra spell (Dancing Feet Spell).
The wizard ended up dancing uncontrollably and lost any chance to counterattack, allowing Flitwick to subdue him with ease.
Neville raised his hand and asked, "But... if we don't know the Shield Charm, how can we block an opponent's spells?"
"There are many ways," Flitwick replied. "But the simplest and fastest method is to counter it with another spell."
Flitwick continued, "Spells are drawn to each other in an invisible way. If two people cast spells at each other simultaneously, the spells have a high chance of colliding, deflecting from their original path, or even rebounding entirely."
"This is explained in detail in Chapter Three of 'The Basic Theory of Spells'. So, for today's homework, write a fifteen-inch essay on this topic."
"Oh no..."
The assignment, clearly an impromptu decision, was met with groans and complaints throughout the classroom.
As the students paired up to practice, Flitwick approached Wade.
"Wade, did you remember what I just said?"
The usually cheerful, diminutive professor asked seriously.
"Yes, Professor," Wade said with a slight bow of his head. "Ensuring my own safety is the most important thing. I shouldn't have let my emotions get the better of me and continued challenging Professor Abigail."
Professor Flitwick nodded in approval, a smile of satisfaction appearing on his face.
"Getting impulsive occasionally isn't a bad thing; after all, you're still a teenager."
As soon as Wade admitted his mistake, Flitwick began to excuse his student. Then he added, "But remember, in the future, you need to stop when it's time to stop. There's no shame in retreating."
"Understood."
"Even if someone calls you a coward or a weakling, remember: it's the fool who acts recklessly and gets themselves killed. If you can outwit your enemy, why bash your head against them just to prove your bravery?"
He winked, and Wade couldn't help but chuckle.
It seemed someone had passed along Professor Abigail's words to Flitwick. He probably assumed Wade's behavior was out of character because he couldn't handle a taunt.
No wonder several professors at the staff table had stern expressions during breakfast. Did the carefree and indulgent Professor Abigail even notice the dissatisfaction of her colleagues?
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