"Can I bring Broom?" Cube asked again. "Without it, we won't have enough mobility. It'll be hard to track or escape."
Wade thought for a moment and nodded. "Alright."
"Wow, I get to go out too?" Broom exclaimed with delight and shot out excitedly.
Sensing that their master was unusually agreeable today, Cube raised a claw and cautiously asked:
"Then… Can we bring Mikael too? Keeping it locked up at home all the time feels like such a waste. And you know, Master—we both don't have a way to destroy Horcruxes."
Wade raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Since its creation, Mikael had only been allowed out a few times. The reason was simple: as an incarnation of Fiendfyre, this bird was simply too dangerous for others.
Fiendfyre could burn anything flammable and grew more powerful the longer it burned.
This kind of magic wasn't entirely uncontrollable—but it was extremely difficult to manage. Very few wizards could fully control Fiendfyre.
So in theory, if Mikael ever lost control, even a single spit could burn down an entire city.
Under his master's particularly sharp gaze, Cube awkwardly lowered its claw and gave a dry laugh:
"Yeah… that might not be a good idea… What about Cloak? Ahem—of course Cloak should stay home too. Someone has to keep the place running."
Cube tugged at Locke and headed toward the window, waving its claw as it said, "Then we'll be off, Master! We'll definitely return with good news!"
Broom shot out the window first, stopping just outside, practically radiating the excitement of finally getting to go have fun.
"Wait," Wade took a couple steps closer and said, "If you run into anything you can't handle, contact me right away. I'll bring Mikael and get there as fast as I can."
"Got it!"
Cube and Locke mounted the broom. Their bodies gradually blended into the surrounding environment until only Broom's excited voice remained in the air:
"Ha ha ha! Voldemort, Death Eaters—tremble! We're coming for you!"
Whoosh! A sharp wind sliced through the air, ruffling Wade's hair as it passed.
Cloak sat at the entrance to the wardrobe space, arms draped across its collar. Even without facial features or expressions, it somehow managed to convey a pitiful look.
"Let's go," Wade said, pulling Cloak over and casually slinging it over his arm. "You've still got other work to do."
"I know… I have to clean the house…" Cloak said in a pleading tone. "But Master, I want to go out and play too… Can I take turns with Cube?"
"Your task is far more important than cleaning," Wade said as he opened the door and walked downstairs, speaking in a low voice. "I need you to keep an eye on someone."
Cloak flicked its shimmering golden hem in surprise and said, "I'm so eye-catching, though. Not really suited for surveillance, am I?"
"It's not just surveillance," Wade said. "You also need to look after him—protect him. You're the smartest cloak in the world. I trust you know exactly what to do and when to do it."
Cloak stiffened slightly, then responded confidently, "Of course! I definitely won't disappoint you, Master… Who's the target?"
As it spoke, Wade had already reached the corner of the staircase.
He heard voices coming from the living room and paused. After a while, he continued down, with Cloak sensibly falling silent.
"Listen, I don't know how you did it… I'm really grateful you healed me. But magic? That's just ridiculous, dear Grey."
The elderly man, with thin and white hair, shook his head and spoke in a gentle tone, "You don't have to make up this kind of clumsy excuse, child. If you need anything, just be straightforward—I'd be happy to help."
He gave a self-deprecating smile. "After all, I've got nowhere to go now… As long as you provide three meals a day and a place to sleep, I can give you my past research, and even help that schoolkid of yours write their papers."
His tone sounded resigned, as though nothing mattered anymore, not even life itself.
Wade could understand why he'd become like this—after all, Cornelius Dwan had once been respected and admired. But after he fell seriously ill, everyone around him abandoned him.
If he had remained confused, that would've been one thing. But sometimes, he would become briefly lucid—aware enough to feel every bit of pain his illness inflicted on his body, and even his dignity was torn to shreds.
He had once sat in a wheelchair, on top of his own excrement, with the unbearable sensation of ants crawling and biting all over him—yet he couldn't even lift a hand to scratch.
Even though his body had since healed, those traumas couldn't be erased from memory.
Cornelius didn't know how he had been cured—as a Muggle, he'd been hit with a Memory Charm upon being discharged from St. Mungo's, so he'd forgotten everything that happened during his stay. But he also didn't want to know.
He had once been a scientist, but now, Cornelius felt like all his curiosity had died.
"Hey, seeing me, are you still going to deny the existence of magic?"
Coco stood beside the coffee cup with her arms crossed, fuming: "I'm Coco—the clever, cute, smart, and capable magic doll! I was personally created by the great Master Wade! Have you ever seen anything like me in the Muggle world?"
"I didn't expect technology in robotics to have developed this far in just a few years…" Cornelius sighed. "I must've been asleep for too long—I'm completely out of touch with the times."
"Robot? Coco is not a robot! And… oh right, there's also Dobby! A house-elf! Have you ever seen one?"
Coco shouted loudly, "Dobby! Dobby! Come here!"
With a "pop," the house-elf appeared and served a cup of tea to the guest. "Please enjoy your tea, Mr. Dwan."
Cornelius Dwan rubbed his eyes and asked Fred in confusion, "Am I seeing things…? Are robots like this common now? Honestly, have I been asleep for twenty years?"
"I don't think even twenty years from now technology will reach what you're imagining," Fred replied. "This is magic, Cornelius."
"No, no, no—magic doesn't exist," Cornelius said, shaking his head.
"The natural world operates according to fundamental physical laws. There's no such thing as teleportation, and artificial beings can't possess independent thought. This is just a unique form of trickery… I just haven't figured out how you're doing it yet."
"Wade's here," Fred said, noticing Wade coming down the stairs with a smile. "Why don't you talk to my son? He's a real wizard."
"Wizard?"
Cornelius raised an eyebrow, showing a skeptical expression that seemed to say, "Let's see how far you take this story," and turned to look at Wade.
Wade didn't say anything. He simply flicked his arm—and Cloak instantly stood up, flew in a circle around Cornelius, and with a smug tone in its voice, said:
"Come on! Guess what kind of trick I used for that!"
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