Passengers, flight attendants, hijackers... everyone was overwhelmed by a strong sense of drowsiness one after another. They were controlled by an irresistible force, the sound of snoring rising all around, and some simply sat on the ground and fell into a deep sleep.
The wizards barely managed to repair the cabin walls, catching their breath, only to be startled by the sudden silence.
Behind them, people like Ginny and Madam Kona had already fallen asleep in their seats, and the young ones were struggling to keep their eyes open.
Beside them, Mrs. Weasley was the most earnest when casting spells, her breathing more rapid than the others. It was just a brief moment before she drowsily leaned against the seat back, unable to keep her eyes open.
"Be careful, there's another attack!"
Mr. Weasley was immediately on high alert, his warning came out strained but was abruptly cut off by a yawn.
The overwhelming drowsiness felt like an invisible shackle, making his limbs weak and his body uncontrollably slide down along the cabin wall.
—Something's wrong! It's a magic potion! Could there still be Scourers on the plane?
Mr. Weasley immediately turned his magic wand towards himself, preparing to cast a spell, but suddenly a bottle of magical potion appeared in front of him. The pungent smell drifted into his nostrils, immediately clearing his mind, making his hair stand on end.
The one handing him the magic potion was Vid.
"This is the antidote, just take a sip," he said simply, "The Life and Death Potion was released by my order."
Mr. Weasley took the magic potion, pinched his nose, and gulped down a sip, instantly dispelling his drowsiness completely.
He looked around at the slumbering crowd and asked, "What... what exactly is going on here?"
"Wouldn't it be easier to control the situation if everyone's asleep?" Vid explained, "Moreover, this way, they'll just think they had a bizarre dream, making it easier for them to recover mentally and psychologically."
Mr. Weasley opened his mouth, but could only nod silently in agreement afterward.
He had to admit, it was indeed the most appropriate arrangement at the moment.
Mr. Weasley, with his exhausted body, slumped down. The dead silence of the cabin enveloped him, the only sound around being the steady breathing rising and falling in his ears.
Just moments ago, they were facing dire crises, where a misstep could have led to death or numerous troubles.
But at the moment, there were only the two of them awake on the plane, and the crisis seemed to have subsided.
As soon as the tense nerves relaxed, it brought not relief, but a nearly exhausted sense of bewilderment, leaving him feeling at a loss.
"Should we wake Mrs. Weasley and the others?" Vid asked softly.
Mr. Weasley looked at his family already asleep, shook his head, and hoarsely said, "Let them sleep for a while... Are you sure there's no other threat on the plane?"
His gaze swept over some young passengers who were walking around the cabin earlier.
Vid replied softly, "Yes, I'm sure."
Mr. Weasley fell silent for a moment, surprising himself by how effortlessly he trusted Vid's judgment without a shadow of doubt.
His brows furrowed into a knot, which then slowly relaxed after a few seconds without further questioning, only asking, "How's Sirius?"
Vid replied, "He's already taken the antidote. After we return, he'll probably need to stay at St Mungo's for a week or two."
Mr. Weasley nodded, "As long as he's alive."
The two lapsed into silence, as they were not originally that familiar with each other.
Arthur Weasley silently observed the scene before him—
The poppets on the ground continued working tirelessly. After extinguishing the fire, they diligently carried the sleeping passengers back to their seats, helping to tidy hair and clothes, and wiping bloodstains off the floor.
The giant jellyfish had entirely retracted into the wardrobe space, leaving friction marks on the cabin floor and ceiling, but only the most observant would notice them.
Vid strolled around as if shopping, occasionally waving his magic wand to make stains disappear, using magic spells to fill holes connecting the floor to the cargo hold, and healing the wounded.
Whether it was severed tendons and broken bones, or head injuries, a couple of bottles of magical potions were enough to cure them.
Mr. Weasley even found that Vid wielded healing and mending charms quite proficiently, skills that could make him a healer assistant at St Mungo's.
This young man seemed to carry endless quantities of magic potions, followed by several little demonic puppets holding potion bottles. As they ran out, they'd swap for new bottles. The crystal bottles passed back and forth between Vid and the wardrobe space like a game of hot potato.
Seeing Vid heal the broken legs of two Muggles trampled, Mr. Weasley couldn't help reminding him:
"Vid, some magic potions shouldn't be used on Muggles—I suppose you know that?"
"I understand," Vid replied, turning back with a calm tone, "Rest assured, these magic potions are modified versions that can work on Muggles."
"Modified versions? Who modified them?" Mr. Weasley asked, "How come I've never heard of it?"
Vid simply replied, "A friend... he's not after fame or fortune."
"I see..." Mr. Weasley nodded skeptically.
He watched as Vid walked through the middle, waving his magic wand, aligning the seats on both sides, removing the dirt from people, leaving them looking calm but serene. The dislodged brackets, dropped tables, scattered baggage—all restored to their rightful places.
Even the disposable cups jumped back onto the table surfaces, though the drinks inside had all vanished.