"Can I bring the broom?" the Rubik's Cube Golem asked again. "Without it, our mobility will be too low, making it inconvenient to track or escape."
Wade thought about it and nodded. "Alright."
"Wow, am I going out too?" The broom was overjoyed and shot out immediately.
Noticing that its master was unusually accommodating today, the Rubik's Cube Golem tentatively raised a paw and asked,
"Then can we bring Mihail? Keeping it cooped up at home all the time feels like such a waste. Besides, Master, you know—neither Locke nor I have a way to destroy Horcruxes."
Wade raised an eyebrow but didn't speak.
Since Mihail's birth, Wade had only let it out a few times. The reason was simple: this bird, an embodiment of Fiendfyre, was simply too dangerous for others.
Fiendfyre can incinerate anything flammable and grows stronger as it burns.
This magic isn't entirely uncontrollable, but it's difficult; very few Wizards can fully control Fiendfyre.
So, theoretically, if Mihail lost control, one spit could potentially burn down a city.
Under its master's unusually sharp gaze, the Rubik's Cube Golem sheepishly lowered its paw and chuckled dryly,
"That doesn't seem very likely, does it? Then maybe the Cloak can… ahem, of course, the Cloak has to stay home too. Someone has to do the work."
The Rubik's Cube Golem dragged Locke towards the window, waved a paw, and said, "Well then, goodbye, Master! We'll definitely come back with good news!"
The broom flew out the window first, stopping at the sill, radiating the excitement of being able to go out and play.
"Wait," Wade took two steps closer and said, "If you encounter a problem you can't handle, contact me immediately. I'll bring Mihail and get there as fast as possible."
"Got it!"
The Rubik's Cube Golem and Locke mounted the broom, their bodies gradually assimilating into the same color as their surroundings. Finally, only the cheerful sound of the broom remained in the air:
"Hahaha, Voldemort, Death Eaters, tremble! Here we come!"
With a whoosh, the sound of rushing air filled the space, and Wade's hair fluttered a few times.
The Cloak squatted at the entrance of the Wardrobe Space, its two arms draped over its collar. Though it had no facial features or expressions, it somehow managed to convey a pitiful look.
"Let's go," Wade pulled the Cloak over, casually draping it over his arm, and said, "You have other work to do."
"I know… I have to tidy up the house, right?" the Cloak said in a coaxing tone, "But Master, I want to go out and play too… Can I take turns with the Rubik's Cube Golem?"
"Your task is far more important than cleaning," Wade opened the door and walked downstairs, whispering, "You need to keep an eye on someone for me."
The Cloak shook its shimmering golden hem in surprise and said, "I'm so conspicuous, I don't think I'm very suitable for surveillance, am I?"
"It's not just surveillance," Wade said. "You also need to look after him and protect him. You are the smartest Cloak in the world, and I trust you know exactly what to do and when."
The Cloak stiffened for a moment, then said with an air of confidence, "Of course, I certainly won't disappoint Master… Where is my target?"
As they spoke, Wade had reached the stair landing.
He heard voices from the living room, paused his steps, and after a moment, continued downstairs. The Cloak also cleverly quieted down.
"Listen, I don't know how you did it… I'm very grateful that you cured me. But magic? This is truly preposterous, dear Gray."
The elderly man with sparse white hair shook his head and said in a gentle tone, "There's no need for such clumsy excuses, my child. If you need any help, please just say so. I'd be happy to assist."
He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Anyway, I have nowhere else to go now… As long as I can get three meals a day and a place to sleep, I can give you my past research findings, or even help your student child write papers."
His tone sounded utterly disheartened, as if he cared about nothing, not even interested in living anymore.
Wade could understand why he had become this way—after all, this Mr. Cornelius Davan was once highly respected and admired, but after he fell gravely ill, everyone around him abandoned him.
If he had remained oblivious, it might have been fine, but sometimes, he would briefly regain consciousness, keenly feeling the torment of his illness on his body, and even his dignity was sorely humiliated.
He once sat in a wheelchair, in his own excrement, feeling as if countless ants were gnawing at him, yet he couldn't even scratch himself.
Those injuries, even though his body was now healed, could not be completely erased from his memory.
Cornelius didn't know how he was cured—as a Muggle, when he was discharged from St. Mungo's, the healer had included an Obliviation Charm, making him forget his hospital stay—but he also didn't want to investigate.
He had been a scientist, but now, Cornelius felt that his curiosity had completely died.
"Hey, seeing me, do you still deny the existence of magic?"
Coco stood beside the coffee cup, arms crossed, and said indignantly, "I am the clever, cute, smart, and capable Magic Golem, Coco! I am a companion personally created by the great Master Wade! Have you ever seen an existence like me in the Muggle world?"
"I can't believe how much intelligent robot technology has advanced in just a few years," Cornelius sighed. "I really slept for too long; I can't keep up with the times."
"Robot? Coco is not a robot! And… oh, and Dobby! A House-elf, have you seen one?"
Coco shouted loudly, "Dobby! Dobby! Come here quickly!"
The House-elf appeared with a pop and served the guest a cup of tea. "Tea for you, Mr. Davan."
Cornelius Davan rubbed his eyes and asked Ferdinand doubtfully, "I think I'm seeing things… Are these kinds of robots common now? Honestly, did I really sleep for twenty years straight?"
"I doubt technology would advance to the extent you imagine even in twenty years," Ferdinand said. "This is magic, Cornelius."
"No, no, no, magic doesn't exist," Cornelius shook his head. "The natural world operates according to basic laws of physics. There's no instant teleportation, and artificial creations cannot possess independent thought. This is just a unique trick… I just haven't figured out what method you used."
"Wade's here." Ferdinand saw Wade coming downstairs and chuckled, "Why don't you have a chat with my son? He's a real Wizard."
"A Wizard?"
Cornelius raised an eyebrow, wearing an expression that said, "Let's see how you're going to spin this," and turned to look at Wade.
Wade didn't speak, merely twitched his arm. The Cloak instantly stood up, flew a circle around Cornelius, and in the other man's astonished gaze, it said triumphantly,
"Come on! Guess what trick I used to do this!"
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