As soon as the dismissal order was given, the students almost couldn't wait to rush out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Wade stayed behind under the gloating gaze of Michael.
Even if it was special tutoring, most people wouldn't envy the students who were singled out by Professor Moody.
After everyone had left, Moody finally spoke to Wade in a slightly gentler tone: "Your spellwork is pretty good, but in my Defense Against the Dark Arts class, you'll be facing more opponents in the future… Are you afraid?"
Wade replied, "Of course not."
"Good lad," Moody grinned. "From now on, set aside one hour every Sunday. I'll teach you what those illegal dark magic spells really look like—and how to deal with them."
Wade asked with curiosity, "You're not planning to teach this in class?"
"In class? For those little brats who don't even have a basic instinct for self-defense?" Moody sneered and shook his head.
Wade hesitated, then said, "Actually… they're not that bad, right?"
He really meant it. Just earlier, quite a few students had successfully cast Disarming Charms, and a few even managed to use the Shield Charm.
Wade remembered that in the original story, many students didn't learn those two spells until fifth year, under Harry's guidance—including older students like Cho Chang.
"Their spellwork is a bit better than I expected," Moody said dismissively.
"But I can tell just by looking into their eyes—they're nothing but pathetic kids playing dress-up in adult clothes. If they were thrown onto the battlefield like ours, they wouldn't last two rounds."
Moody said with disdain, "Have they ever seen death? Can they take a hit without screaming, and counterattack through the pain? Have they witnessed the power of dark magic—and resisted the temptation to explore and indulge in it?"
Leaning on his cane, Moody used his claw-shaped artificial leg to hook a chair over and sat down, unconsciously letting out a long sigh.
He slowly said: "There are some doors that should never be opened. I've seen too many young people fall into darkness with one careless step—and they end up either crippled, insane, or locked in Azkaban… Honestly, a quick death would be better."
Wade asked, "So you're not worried I'll fall into that darkness too?"
Moody gave him a sideways glance and said, "I can tell just by your eyes. You've seen the darkness—but you would never enjoy it… I bet you think Voldemort's an idiot, don't you?"
Wade smiled but said nothing.
"Arrogance is dangerous too," Moody muttered. "But it's still better than being both stupid and greedy."
He popped the cork off a bottle and took a big swig.
Wade wrinkled his nose, thinking he smelled something like potion.
Instinctively, he glanced again at the top of Moody's head, and only then did he feel reassured.
Moody noticed Wade's subtle gesture and grinned. "This isn't liquor… it's the price, Wade."
"Price?"
"Some damage from dark magic can't be healed, kid. It doesn't just leave scars on your body."
The muscles on Moody's face twitched slightly as he spoke in a grim tone:
"It always hurts—like ants gnawing in the gaps between your bones, like someone scraping your nerves with a dull blade… The potion helps me suppress the pain and stay clear-headed."
Wade looked at Moody's scar-covered face and hands, and the large chunk missing from his nose. He couldn't help but recall how this man—who was always like an angry lion—now struggled to even stand from his chair under the torment of chronic pain.
"Is there really no other way?" Wade asked with concern. "Tears willingly given by a phoenix or unicorn… or dragon's blood, maybe…"
Moody smiled slightly and said, "Go on now, kid. Don't forget to show up for class on time."
It was obvious he had already tried everything, and by now had long given up hope of finding a cure.
Besides, as an experienced and seasoned Auror, did he really know less than a still-studying student like Wade?
So Wade said no more and left the classroom.
…
That afternoon, with no classes scheduled, Wade brought his homework and books and headed back to the Umbrella Room after a long time.
As soon as he walked in, he heard Padma recounting what happened in class to Hermione.
"…Then I used a Tripping Jinx to take down Pansy, but before I could even catch my breath, that despicable Michael snuck up behind me and ambushed me…"
"Sorry! You were standing in the perfect spot," Michael said with a cheeky grin.
Neville asked with a pale-face, "So… you're saying we'll have to duel like that when we take Defense Against the Dark Arts too?"
"Neville!" Harry placed a hand on his shoulder. "Didn't you go into the maze quite a few times? What's the difference between this and dealing with maze creatures?"
"There's a huge difference, alright?" Theo said flatly from the side. "At least those creatures sometimes let out a warning cry before attacking!"
"You're not scared too, are you, Theo?" Michael teased loudly.
"Michael," Ryan suddenly asked, "why did you only talk about the second duel just now? What about the first one? Why didn't you mention that?"
Michael: "…"
He was quietly trying to come up with a way to gloss over the truth when he suddenly saw Wade walking through the door. He instantly jumped up and shouted, "Hey, Wade, you ambushed me!"
"Sorry," Wade said with a smile. "You were standing in the perfect spot at the time."
Michael: "…"
Padma burst out laughing with a pfft, and soon everyone joined in, roaring with laughter.
They wrote their essays, practiced spells, and before they realized it, it was already time for dinner.
After dinner came the previously agreed-upon Spells tutoring session.
Anthony had acted quickly—he had already sent a message at noon via the friends' ledger saying he'd cleaned up one of the club classrooms. To apply for the room, he had even given it a plain and modest name: The Spells Study Group.
Even though Wade felt the SSC group didn't really need to attend this "Spells Study Group," since it was the first session, they all went along to check it out.
They climbed up to the fifth floor of the main castle, turned a few corners, and finally arrived at a long corridor. On either side of the hallway were classroom doors, each with different plaques—some enchanted with decorative magic, some just displaying a simple name.
Wade saw names like Gobstones Club, Wizard's Chess Club, Potion Research Society, Magical Creature Enthusiasts Group, and Charms Innovation Society. One even read Baking Magic Club, with the wooden sign shaped like a cake and giving off a sweet, sugary aroma.
It wasn't until they reached nearly the very end of the corridor that they saw the name "Spells Study Group."
The wooden plaque looked freshly made—the ink wasn't even dry yet. Around it were some ornate patterns, and upon closer inspection, Wade realized they were actually coiled silver snakes.
Wade paused for a moment. Anthony hadn't even had time to come up with a proper name—yet he'd gone through the effort to add these little decorations?
This plaque… could it have originally belonged to something else, and Anthony just changed the name?
Wade pointed his wand at the wooden sign and whispered, "Revelio Traces!"
Beneath the ink, a faint silver glow appeared, gradually forming a line of text—
[Midnight Society · V]
Wade stared at the final "V," then looked at the font that felt oddly familiar. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
This "V"… could it be the "V" from Voldemort (Lord Voldemort)?
Did Anthony unknowingly apply for a club room that used to belong to a secret society founded by Voldemort during his school years?
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