The celebration in the Ravenclaw common room went on for a long time. Since the next day was Sunday, everyone danced and laughed freely through the entire night, until they eventually forgot what they were celebrating in the first place.
Wade, however, didn't stay for long. When his usual bedtime came, he quietly returned to the dormitory, leaving his magic doll in the common room to deal with the never-ending toasts.
Before sleeping, Wade didn't forget to use a communication bean to "call" his parents and tell them he had been chosen as a champion.
The family had already discussed the tournament in advance.
Mr. and Mrs. Gray knew Wade's intentions, so they weren't surprised at the news. They simply reminded him once more with words like "stay safe" and "don't take winning or losing too seriously."
Near dawn, the Ravenclaw common room finally began to quiet down. Most people, unable to hold out any longer, had returned to the dorms to sleep. Some who had passed out simply stayed asleep on the sofas or the carpet.
By the time the sky began to lighten, there was no one left awake in the common room. The house-elves finally emerged, moving quietly as they started tidying up.
Suddenly, a figure lying on the sofa stirred, startling Zoe, who was in the middle of clearing away bottles. She turned around and, recognizing the silhouette, happily rushed over.
"Mr. Wade Grey… huh?"
The familiar figure and face carried an unfamiliar air. The house-elf froze mid-step and stared at the "Wade Grey" in puzzlement and suspicion.
"Wade Grey" smiled slightly and said softly, "You're not mistaken. I'm not him."
The other two house-elves cleaning the room—Happy and Phil—immediately came to stand beside Zoe and stared at the fake Wade with full alertness. But perhaps because the stranger's demeanor was so calm, they only asked in low voices:
"Who are you? What do you want? Where is Mr. Gray?"
The fake Wade pointed to his ear and said, "Can't you hear everything happening in the dorms? Why not listen for yourselves?"
Then he stood up, brushed some food crumbs from his robe, and left the common room, heading up the spiral staircase toward the dormitories.
This "Wade" who had supposedly drunk dozens of bottles of butterbeer all night seemed completely unaffected by alcohol. Each of his steps was taken at exactly the same distance and pace as the last.
The house-elves' large ears twitched slightly. They heard the "fake Wade" reach Wade Grey's dorm, where the sound of steady breathing coming from "fake Wade" suddenly stopped.
Then came Wade's muffled voice: "The party's finally over?"
"Yes, master," said the "fake Wade."
"What time is it…" Wade muttered, glancing at the clock before collapsing back onto the bed. "You can rest now too, Visser…"
The house-elves exchanged glances.
"A Doll?"
"Must be a Doll."
"As expected of Mr. Grey."
Only then did they relax and resume cleaning. Zoe carefully moved a student who was sleeping on the floor to the side and pulled an empty bottle from his arms.
…
Following his master's order, the doll Visser passed through the wardrobe door and entered the vast space within.
There was always endless work in the wardrobe space. At the moment, seven or eight tall, thin figures were inside—some forging objects, others studying books, and still others assembling machinery.
They were the most intelligent type among dolls—capable even of learning new knowledge on their own and mastering new skills.
Each of them wore a badge pinned to their chest, bearing names like Vidas, Videl, Vilan, Vito, Vien, and so on. Seen individually, the names were fine, but together it was obvious they'd been chosen at random.
The doll Visser likewise pulled a badge with his own name from his pocket and pinned it to his chest. Then he casually took the tool from Videl's hand and began tapping and hammering on several metal tubes.
"Visser, do you think Master will have you compete in the tournament in his place?" Videl asked.
"Impossible," Vito replied. "If the headmasters found out, they'd definitely consider it cheating and disqualify him."
"There's no need," Visser added. "Master can win the tournament on his own."
"Other than you, the rest of us will be leaving soon," Vien said with a sigh and a hint of reluctance in his expression.
The other dolls all responded with expressionless faces: "Ugh—"
"Don't put on an act in front of us, Vien," Vito said flatly. "Save it for fooling outsiders."
"Haha, just getting some practice in advance!" Vien laughed, brushing his brown hair back with his fingers. "After all, before long I'll be the world's recognized heir to the Alliance—Brown!"
…
The next morning, countless owls delivered The Daily Prophet, dropping the newspapers—along with loose feathers—onto the students' breakfast tables.
Wade heard Fleur Delacour let out a loud "tsk" before complaining to her companions about Hogwarts' hygiene:
"Heavens, can't these owls deliver at another time? Does it have to be in the morning? While we're eating? I can't eat another bite! Just the thought that there might be bird droppings in the pumpkin juice makes me sick!"
Several of the Beauxbatons girls frowned and set down their spoons.
The surrounding Ravenclaws were more or less used to the French young lady's ways by now, and most pretended not to hear. Only a few girls secretly curled their lips and exchanged glances with slightly mocking expressions.
Of course, Wade didn't notice any of these silent exchanges. He simply unfolded the newspaper and saw that the front-page headline was the list of selected champions for the tournament.
"Quick work—they must have worked overtime through the night," Michael remarked, leaning over to glance at the page and pointing. "Right there at the top—your three names… oh, and pictures."
Harry's photo captured the moment he struck the basilisk, likely taken from past streaming mirror news. Cedric's was a proper, formal shot of him standing before the school castle.
As for Wade, the photo was from his time in Marchionne's magic workshop, surrounded by alchemical tools—fully showcasing his identity as an alchemist, and even faintly giving off the impression of "this guy's a bookworm."
Wade sighed—so much for hoping he could go out in public without being recognized.
He skimmed the article. Probably due to the rush, it was extremely brief and objective, with no extra introduction for each school's champion.
At the end of the article, the author's name turned out to be Rita Skeeter, which surprised Wade.
—So that woman can write a normal news piece! He'd always thought Rita only knew how to exaggerate and make up rumors.
Then Wade turned the page, and when he saw the title of the next article, his gaze sharpened slightly:
[Mysterious Death Near Glenavon Forest, Suspected Dark Magic Experiment.]
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