Wade noticed that Grindelwald didn't seem like he was going to recover anytime soon, and his gaze involuntarily drifted toward the door.
No one is coming in.
Opportunity… an opportunity…
Is this the moment?
Should I take this chance and Disapparate right now?
In Grindelwald's current state, he wouldn't be able to interfere with the spell in time.
Wade pulled out his wand and gave it a decisive flick—only for his expression to immediately darken.
The air felt like solid stone. The moment he tried to twist on the spot, a powerful sense of restriction gripped him.
Grindelwald, still coughing, let out a hoarse laugh.
Wade: "...!"
He gritted his teeth and his hand tightened around his wand, ready to make a move.
Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open, and Delaine strode in with a chill and the stench of blood clinging to him. He shot a glance at Wade, then walked straight to Grindelwald without hesitation.
"Sir!"
Delaine dropped to one knee and quickly pulled out a vial of pale golden potion, helping Grindelwald drink it.
Grindelwald's condition rapidly stabilized, but as he lowered his hand, a smear of blood was revealed on his palm.
Delaine silently handed him a handkerchief.
For some reason, even in this state, Grindelwald was still laughing—his shoulders were shaking with every breath.
Delaine looked at him with concern, then shot a glare at Wade. His eyes were filled with anger—but not hostility.
"Günther…" Grindelwald finally managed to catch his breath and asked in a low voice, "Was he caught?"
"Yes, sir," Delaine responded quickly.
"Bring him in," said Grindelwald.
"Yes, sir."
Delaine stood and took two steps back, then exited the room. As he passed by Wade, he suddenly muttered under his breath:
"Lord Grindelwald isn't in good health—he mustn't get overly agitated. Watch your tone when you speak. Don't make inappropriate jokes!"
Wade met his gaze and suddenly realized—Delaine seemed to think he had just told Grindelwald some world-shattering joke that nearly killed the man with laughter.
Wade was speechless. Faced with such a terrifying misunderstanding, he had no idea where to even begin correcting it.
Delaine didn't wait for a reply and turned to leave in a hurry.
At that moment, Wade sensed a gaze on him. He slowly turned around—only to find Grindelwald staring at him with an expression that sent a chill down his spine.
"Wade Grey."
Grindelwald seemed to grind that name between his teeth, looking Wade up and down before slowly repeating, "Wade Grey…"
Then he asked, "Did Dumbledore ever give you private lessons?"
Wade: "...?"
He blinked once, then decisively answered, "Yes."
Of course Dumbledore had given him private lessons—showing him the lives of two Dark Lords and personally teaching him how to Apparate.
—Although Wade suspected that what Grindelwald meant by "lessons" wasn't quite that... but could he afford to deny it right now?
Definitely not.
Dumbledore is powerful, wise, and highly respected—he could carry the blame that Wade absolutely could not.
After hearing his answer, Grindelwald was silent for a long time. Then, as if speaking to himself, he muttered, "I thought all these years, he'd been avoiding reality, avoiding the past, hiding away in that school as some desireless, detached professor… I didn't expect…"
Grindelwald looked at Wade with a strange expression, murmuring, "Of course… he's a professor… and he taught a student like you…"
Wade said nothing, the only sound he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Thump-thump-thump!
As if in response to his heartbeat, the door was suddenly knocked on. Wade quickly pulled up his hood. A moment later, Delaine returned, flanked by two other black-robed wizards, leading three people into the room with spells binding them.
One was a dark-skinned, bearded old man; another, a woman in her forties or fifties, still charming and elegant, her hairstyle refined and flawless. The last was a young man with a handsome face and several gemstone rings on his fingers.
They instantly recognized who held power in the room and all turned pleading gazes toward Grindelwald. They seemed desperate to speak—but their mouths were shut tight and not a single word came out.
Delaine leaned forward and said, "Sir, these are the administrators and leaders of this facility. As for the young man, it's said he's the son of an influential Muggle."
Grindelwald nodded. "Antoine."
A black-robed wizard quickly stepped forward and bowed.
Grindelwald pointed at Wade. "Take the boy back first. You'll need his help with the rest of the work."
"Yes, sir." Antoine Moreau gestured at Wade, threw an arm around his shoulders, and led him out.
As they exited the room, Wade heard Grindelwald's voice behind him:
"There are some among the Muggles with particularly strong wills. To save time, give them a taste before you extract their memories."
"Yes, sir," Delaine responded without hesitation—and cast a spell: "Crucio!"(Cruciatus Curse)
The Muggle administrator in the room let out a muffled, whimpering howl of pain. Despite enduring inhuman torment, he couldn't make a sound.
"Let's go."
Antoine Moreau grabbed Wade by the arm and took a lighter-like object from his coat. With a firm press—
Click!
The two of them vanished instantly from the spot!
…
Wade was back at the dark gray castle once again.
The place felt empty and quiet now. Antoine Moreau had brought him to a circular platform. In the distance, Wade could see white snow blanketing the hillside, and a brown bear slowly wandering near the edge of the forest.
"Come with me, Wade!" Moreau pulled him through a small door into the castle, asking, "You know how to edit footage, right?"
"A bit," Wade replied.
"Fantastic!" Moreau beamed. "I thought I'd have to kidnap an editor from Aslan's side! This saves so much trouble…"
As they passed by a woman carrying a basket, Moreau suddenly reached in and swiped a pair of scissors, then grinned and added belatedly.
"Dear Hannah, lend me your scissors!"
The woman froze, then shouted angrily, "You thief! Put those back! I'm not done with my work!"
"Sorry, sorry! I'll return them in a moment!"
Moreau yelled as he dragged Wade away quickly.
They darted into a room filled with all kinds of Master streaming mirrors. Moreau peeked outside—no one was following—then shut the door quickly.
He solemnly placed the scissors in Wade's hands, along with the master recording mirror, saying, "Alright, get to editing! I need to return those scissors to Hannah soon."
Wade looked at him strangely and asked, "Who told you you need scissors to edit a video?"
"What? Isn't that how Muggles make movies?" Moreau scratched his head, confused. "They cut up the film with scissors and tape it back together… I was curious once and snuck in to watch… uh…"
He picked up the master mirror and realization dawned on him. "There's… no film in this thing, is there?"
"Of course not," Wade sighed. "We're wizards. We use wizarding methods. Go return those scissors."
Moreau gave an awkward chuckle, waved his wand, and the scissors trembled, then zoomed out the window and flew off.
Wade briefly worried that the scissors flying out like that might turn into a dangerous projectile, but it was too late to stop it. Shaking his head, he tapped the master mirror with his wand.
Immediately, several nearby mirrors displayed the recorded footage.
The video began from the moment the wizards arrived at the base via Portkey.
As Wade reviewed the footage, he started teaching Moreau the basics of magical editing.
"The spell is actually pretty simple—do you know the memory extraction charm?" Wade asked.
"Of course I do," Moreau replied.
"Then it's easy. Just treat the video like the 'memory' of a device. Then pick out the parts you want."
As Wade spoke, he gently flicked his wand.
At that moment, the video was playing a scene of wizards charging into the base. A silvery-white mist emerged from the image and coiled around the tip of Wade's wand. It looked very much like a strand of extracted memory.
"It's actually no different from cutting and splicing film, just more flexible and much simpler. But if you want the video to be impactful and compelling, you can't rely on such basic techniques alone."
"Then what should I do?" Moreau asked earnestly.
"First, choose visually striking footage… use appropriate color combinations… the way and timing of transitions between shots is also very important…"
Wade performed a few operations, and the image in the sub-mirror instantly split into two parts, each playing a different scene.
Moreau said doubtfully, "But won't that make it hard for viewers to focus on either half?"
"Exactly. So to catch the details in the other half, people will rewatch it a second time—or even a third," Wade replied.
Moreau tried it for himself and found it to be true. He couldn't help giving a thumbs up.
Wade continued, "Don't be afraid the audience won't understand. Sometimes, an overload of information can be even more engaging…"
"Adding eye-catching subtitles and titles is also key. It helps the viewer instantly grasp what you want to express…"
"Gory scenes are easier to tolerate in black and white… and the screaming—some people find it deeply disturbing or even physically revolting, so it's better to replace it with fitting music…"
"I've already learned how to change colors," Moreau interrupted quickly while scribbling furiously in his notebook. "But how do you change the sound?"
"Just re-record it. Use a Silencing Charm on the original footage, then overlay new music."
Wade gave him a demonstration.
"Wait—that's it?" Moreau asked in surprise. "That's way too short! There's so much good footage we didn't use! I think… I think we could make it a bit longer… is that okay?"
Maybe it was because Wade was acting as the "teacher" now, but Moreau's voice came out oddly cautious.
Wade shook his head and said, "Do you know what a 15-second read is? Anything longer can start to lose the audience's attention. Content that runs between 12 to 15 seconds tends to leave a deeper impression…"
"You can break the video into several short segments to reinforce memory and draw the eye, then later stitch them into a full-length piece—maybe about half an hour—and play it around dinnertime."
Though short videos hadn't yet become popular among Muggles, Wade could still draw on their future success for inspiration.
After finishing the lesson, he had Moreau try editing two clips himself, guiding him until he had fully grasped the process.
As Moreau admired his work, he suddenly turned to Wade and said:
"You actually agree with Mr. Grindelwald's ideas, don't you? Otherwise, just telling me the spell for extracting and combining clips would've been enough. You didn't need to teach me all of this."
The sub-mirror was still playing and its flickering light cast strange shadows across Wade's face, giving him an expression far too solemn for his age.
He stared at the grotesquely decaying bodies on screen and said quietly, "I just think… things like this shouldn't be happening on this planet. That's all."
"Is that so?" Moreau replied, acting as though he hadn't heard the answer. He grinned. "Wade, I'm looking forward to the day you truly become one of us… I don't think it'll be too long now…"
"Antoine!"
Someone suddenly burst into the room, covered in blood. His cloak had a massive burnt patch, and he was holding another master mirror in his hand.
"This just happened—Mr. Grindelwald led us in a raid on a Muggle tycoon's estate! You should've come! The guy had an underground chamber the size of a palace, locked up hundreds of—oh!"
He caught sight of Wade, especially that clearly underage face, and abruptly swallowed the rest of his words—almost biting his own tongue in the process.
"This… Who is this…?"
"Mr. Grindelwald's captive and guest," Moreau said as he took the master mirror from the man's hand and waved him off. "Alright, leave this to me! Go get yourself treated."
"Captive? Guest?"
The wizard, full of questions, was ushered out by Moreau and limped away.
…
Order of the Phoenix Headquarters – Conference Room
BANG!
The door was slammed open. A tall figure strode in—uninjured but alarmingly pale.
"Dumbledore!"
Kingsley Shacklebolt, usually composed and unshakably calm, now had a look of undisguised shock in his eyes.
Dumbledore quickly stood and walked toward him. "Kingsley, what happened?"
"Any news of Wade?" Lupin asked urgently.
"No," Kingsley shook his head, swallowed hard, and looked around at everyone. "But… he's made a move… Grindelwald…"
Everyone's expression changed instantly.
"The Ministry just received the latest report—" Kingsley continued, "He attacked five Muggle sites in one day. He used fireworks to display the Alliance's insignia in the sky. And… and… at each location, they found… they found…"
"Found what?" Sirius snapped. "What, are you stuttering now?"
Kingsley, remembering the scene, was momentarily at a loss for words.
He pulled a stack of black-and-white photos from his pocket and pushed them forward. "See for yourselves…"
…
Life at the Weasley household was modest, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were far from stingy or joyless. On the contrary, they were quite skilled at creating as much happiness as possible on a limited budget.
That's why, despite the cramped quarters of the Burrow's living room, they had managed to clear space for a large Steaming Mirror—currently the most popular form of magical television.
After dinner, Mr. Weasley was still working late. Harry, Michael, and several of the Weasley children were already crowded onto the rug in front of the mirror, while Mrs. Weasley sat on the sofa in the back, knitting and watching the "TV."
Lately, they'd been watching a series about aliens and supernatural phenomena—full of outlandish Muggle imagination and stunning effects that left everyone completely hooked.
Though Michael and the others were still worried about Wade, as soon as the suspenseful opening theme began, the two boys joined the crowd and sat down.
In the scene, the protagonists had just exposed a critical flaw in the alien villain's disguise when suddenly the mirror flickered and turned fuzzy.
"That's weird, is it broken?"
Fred and George, ever ready to tinker, rolled up their sleeves to fix it—only for the image to abruptly return.
"What's that?" Ginny asked in surprise.
Everyone looked up—and saw that the aliens and protagonists were gone.
In their place was a dark crowd of witches and wizards, swarming a building like harbingers of death. One raised his wand, and a blast of blue flames erupted with a thunderous roar.
Mrs. Weasley's face turned as pale as a sheet.
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⭐Harry Potter: Becoming a Study God (HP:BSG)- +235 Chapters
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