[Antoine: Hahahaha, so that's what it was—a screening! I thought it was strange that they were already preparing the arena two weeks before the match.]
Antoine's handwriting on the parchment carried its usual lively energy.
[Antoine: Did they find anything unusual?]
Wade glanced out the window. The Salem Academy's airship was shrouded in twilight, with only a few windows still glowing faintly.
He lowered his gaze and wrote a new line on the parchment:
[Wade: I don't think so. The school feels as calm as ever today.]
[Antoine: I can't speak for the other schools, but I can at least guarantee that none of Salem's students have been replaced.]
[Wade: Because you've been watching them all this time?]
[Antoine: No. Because the spirit of this academy isn't something you can imitate just by looking the same.]
[Antoine: Besides, the students of Salem are very united—almost like a family. You know, on the day the champions were chosen, I didn't see jealousy or resentment on a single face.]
[Antoine: So if someone here had been replaced, everyone would've noticed immediately. Even Confundus Charms or Memory Modification Spells wouldn't help.]
Wade thought for a moment, then picked up his quill again.
[Wade: Actually, I've been thinking… Maybe the victim wasn't killed because they were to be replaced, but because they discovered some secret.]
[Antoine: So you mean the skeleton wasn't deliberately buried there, but that the victim actually entered Hogwarts alive?]
[Antoine: Maybe that poor soul was trying to tell Dumbledore what they'd found—but someone intercepted them on the way… and wiped them clean, turning them into an unidentifiable corpse?]
[Antoine: I like this theory. Honestly, I'm starting to believe it's the truth.]
Yes—that was exactly what Wade was thinking.
He couldn't help but stand up and pace the room. His heart began to beat faster, and a tingling rush ran across his scalp.
When he picked up his quill again, he could feel his blood surging in his veins.
[Wade: But if that's true, then it raises another question…]
[Antoine: How did the killer gain the victim's trust?]
[Wade: If the victim was planning to reveal a major secret, they would've been nervous and wary—unlikely to trust just anyone.]
[Antoine: Exactly. If a stranger—or anyone of uncertain identity—approached, the victim would've been extremely cautious. In that case, it's impossible they were silently murdered this close to the castle… while all the headmasters of the wizarding schools were at Hogwarts.]
[Wade: So the killer must've earned their trust first—got close to them personally.]
[Antoine: And for someone to be trusted under such circumstances, they must be from Hogwarts… maybe even one of those Dumbledore trusts most.]
[Wade: But none of them have been replaced.]
[Antoine: Are you sure?]
[Wade: I'm sure.]
It was a long while before new words appeared on the parchment.
[Antoine: In that case… doesn't that make things even more interesting?]
Wade could almost picture the look on Antoine's face—an expression filled with teasing amusement and eager anticipation.
It wasn't malicious, exactly, but like that of a child who delights in watching something beautiful collapse spectacularly before his eyes.
After a long pause, Wade wrote:
[Wade: This is just speculation between the two of us, nothing more.]
[Antoine: True (laughs).]
[Wade: Rather than believe one of the professors has been controlled or bribed, I'd prefer to think the killer is hiding in another school… perhaps Durmstrang.]
[Antoine: That's quite possible. After all, Dumbledore can't just go search another school, and the Aurors' hands are tied—they can only observe from the shadows.]
[Wade: So, what are you suggesting?]
[Antoine: That you're not the kind of person who keeps lying to yourself (laughs).]
Wade's nostrils flared slightly. He stared at the line of text on the parchment, silent for a long time.
If no one has been impersonated… then could the killer really be one of the professors?
But who could he possibly suspect?
By convention, this would be the moment to bring up the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
Yet after checking again and again, Moody was still Moody—his name hadn't suddenly changed into Barty Crouch, or anything of the sort.
Alastor Moody was the type of man who would rather die in battle than ever bow to a Dark wizard.
And old Barty hadn't set foot in Hogwarts since the last time he left. Even for communications about the tournament, it was Ludo Bagman who went back and forth between Hogwarts and the Ministry.
Could those bones… belong to old Barty?
But still—
Though the professors of Hogwarts were all highly skilled, few of them could wield dark magic strong enough to kill silently and leave no trace.
Strictly speaking, aside from Dumbledore himself, only the four Heads of House, Professor Murray, and Professor Moody had that level of mastery.
If it were Harry, he would have instantly made his accusation— "It's Snape! I knew he was suspicious!"
Wade could practically see Harry's expression in that scenario, along with everyone else's reactions around him.
But precisely because he knew the story, Wade was certain Snape was one of the least likely to betray anyone.
And knowing the story also meant he knew that Snape had once been a Death Eater, deeply trusted by Voldemort, even personally taught magic by the Dark Lord himself…
In terms of knowledge of dark magic, Snape was undoubtedly among the very best of Hogwarts' professors.
Then there was Professor Murray…
Including him in the list of suspects felt almost unfair.
Murray had never shown any notable combat ability. As far as Wade knew, he was a scholar—brilliant in alchemy, well-versed in ancient languages that most wizards couldn't even read.
But on the other hand—since no one had ever seen Professor Murray in an actual duel, how could they be certain he wasn't a hidden master after all?
Given his age and intellect, Wade believed that if Murray wished, he could easily possess formidable knowledge of dark magic as well.
After a long silence, Wade finally wrote back to Antoine:
[Wade: Help me investigate two people… see if they've done anything unusual lately.]
[Antoine: No problem. (The reply came almost instantly.) Give me three days—wait for my report.]
[Wade: Thank you… I'll be counting on you.]
Closing the Book of friends, Wade sat alone at his desk. He extinguished most of the magical candles, leaving only one flickering flame casting wavering shadows before him.
Outside, the trees of the Forbidden Forest twisted into strange shapes in the wind, bringing back the memory of when those giant trees had suddenly come to life. The Durmstrang ship swayed gently on the black lake, and the waves lapped softly against the shore.
Suddenly, his eyelid twitched. He turned his head sharply and instinctively held his breath—
Far off by the lakeshore, a solitary figure had appeared in his field of vision. The person stood silently at the edge of the water, and their outline was blurred by mist with the only clear feature being the faint silver-white shimmer of their hair in the darkness.
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