The entire morning, everyone was too distracted to focus on class.
During Herbology, Anthony nearly burst a Puff-Pod.
In A History of Magic, no one paid any attention to Professor Binns's hypnotic lecture, though no one fell asleep either; the classroom was filled with flying paper airplanes.
Ancient Runes class, however, was as difficult as ever. It was as if the professor hadn't received the tournament announcement, as she penalized inattentive students with double the essay length.
Wade turned back time to attend Divination Class, which turned out to be an even bigger disaster.
Midway through the class, as Professor Trelawney was having everyone look into their crystal balls for divination, she suddenly burst into tears without warning.
She clutched her scarf tightly with both hands, burying her face in it, letting out sharp sobs, her frail body trembling violently.
"Professor, are you alright?" Lavender Brown, from Gryffindor, asked cautiously.
Trelawney cried for a long while before wiping her nose and saying in a hoarse, sorrowful voice, "I saw... I saw the fate of the sinner..."
She suddenly rolled her eyes, her voice trembling unnaturally as she said, "Ludo Bagman... his wealth will dissipate like shifting sands... his lies will incur cruel backlash... everything he holds dear will turn to naught!"
Wade heard the resentment in her voice and knew it wasn't a true prophecy, but the students in the classroom were clearly startled by her demeanor. Even the most skeptical students froze in place.
"Ludo Bagman..." Harry swallowed, looking at Ron. "I remember him... he was the World Cup announcer, wasn't he?"
Ron nodded gravely. "He's also my dad's colleague."
"Pro... Professor?" Parvati, Padma's sister, whispered reverently. "Is that a prophecy?"
"Yes... yes..." Trelawney wiped her tears with a handkerchief, sobbing. "It's truly... so heartbreaking... he'll die a terrible death..."
A murmur of whispers immediately erupted in the classroom.
"But I remember seeing him in the newspaper this morning," someone said uneasily. "If Ludo Bagman died a terrible death, it would definitely be reported, right?"
"Fool, it's a prophecy!" another student said, utterly convinced. "Professor Trelawney saw the future with her inner eye!"
Professor Trelawney seemed to be in extreme pain, crying too much to speak. Immersed in her own emotions, the rest of the class naturally couldn't continue.
By the time the sensitive and neurotic professor finally calmed down, the bell for class dismissal rang. Trelawney, her voice hoarse, announced the end of class.
"I never knew Professor Trelawney was so close to Mr. Bagman," a student said as they left the classroom. "She's grieving as if her own lover is about to die, even though it hasn't happened yet."
"What do you know! It's because the professor is very kind!" Lavender defended her favorite professor loudly. "Even if it were someone else, Professor Trelawney would grieve for them if she saw their death!"
Is that so?
Wade turned around to see Professor Trelawney wiping her tears while muttering softly. From the shape of her mouth, it was clear the professor was saying, "Liar... he'll definitely die without a burial place..."
Wade: "..."
Poor Professor Trelawney... She must have been conned by Bagman with Leprechaun gold for her World Cup betting, huh?
He shook his head, feeling both sympathetic and amused. As he was about to leave, his steps suddenly paused when he saw the large crystal ball placed nearby.
Wade remembered the prophecy he had casually made up during the final exam last semester.
No... it seems I'm partly to blame for this too?
But then he thought, first, his "prophecy" wasn't wrong, and second, he hadn't encouraged Professor Trelawney to bet on the game.
So, the one at fault was primarily Bagman, the swindler, and secondarily the greedy Professor Trelawney. What did innocent student Wade Grey have to do with it?
Wade suppressed that indescribable, peculiar feeling in his heart and walked out of the classroom.
...
By evening, the bells rang, and students rushed out of the castle, donning their cloaks. House heads and prefects organized the students into lines, making quick last-minute adjustments to their appearance.
Professor Flitwick stood on the high steps, his gaze sweeping over his students.
"Mr. White, your hair looks like you've just been in a brawl—why don't you comb it?"
"I know you're diligent, Miss Jones, but this is not the time for reading. Let me send it where it belongs."
Accompanied by the girl's frustrated cry, Professor Flitwick deftly flicked his Wand, sending the book flying back to the Ravenclaw common room.
"Mind your appearance, children, and be polite. Of course—" Professor Flitwick said animatedly, "there's no need to be overly humble. Hogwarts is the best."
Everyone let out soft laughter, proud and happy. But then, Professor Flitwick was glared at by Professor McGonagall, and he immediately became serious.
By the time all the students were lined up in front of the castle, night had fallen, the moon hung high, and the air gradually grew colder.
"Time's almost up," Michael muttered. "Who do you think will arrive first?"
No sooner had he spoken than a red, triple-decker bus suddenly appeared out of thin air. It sped across the calm surface of the Black Lake, kicking up a huge spray behind it.
With a swift drift and a screech of brakes, the bus stopped in front of the castle gates, its neon lights on the front flashing the words "Ilvermorny Express Bus."
The bus door opened, and a lean, middle-aged wizard calmly stepped out. He wore dark red robes, and his eyes looked very sharp.
But in the blink of an eye, a warm smile spread across his face. "Long time no see, dear Albus! How have you been lately?"
"It's wonderful to see you, Egbert," Dumbledore said, embracing him. "Welcome to Hogwarts, you and your students."
As they spoke, a group of students also disembarked from the bus. They wore red and blue school uniforms, their faces pale, some even gagging a few times, as if they had been severely tormented by their own bus.
"Looks like I'm first," Egbert said happily, looking around. "Excellent, I knew our bus was fast."
"Indeed it is," Dumbledore said, nodding, while Harry cast a sympathetic glance at the students.
Wade observed the students, his gaze lingering on one of the boys for a moment before he looked up at the sky.
A massive carriage was rapidly soaring over the Forbidden Forest, flying towards Hogwarts Castle. Twelve silver-maned horses flew with outstretched wings, gleaming in the moonlight.
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