Harry Potter: Becoming a Study God

Wade was well aware of the significance of the "phone." But he thought — now that the Muggle world already had telephones and the internet, the appearance of an instant communication tool in the wizarding world shouldn't be such a big deal.

After all, wizards already had tools like the two-way mirror, which could be used for "video calls." The only advantage parchment had was that it was cheaper. 

The spells were simple and easy to understand as well — you could say that the preconditions for this had been available to wizards for hundreds of years, yet for some reason, no one seemed to have thought in this direction.

Wade maintained a smile on his face, hoping that Professor Murray would understand what he meant — the research results can be discussed if he wants them, and the glory can be shared. There is no need to act impulsively and turn hostile, and certainly no need to get physical.

Otherwise, Wade would have no choice but to fight back.

He didn't really believe that Hogwarts was absolutely safe just because Dumbledore was there. After all, the Obliviate and Imperius Curse (Imperio) weren't that difficult to perform.

But it seemed that Professor Murray didn't understand his intentions. Without hesitation, he retorted:

"Why doesn't it count? The American continent existed thousands of years ago, but Columbus is still hailed as a hero for discovering it! 

Dumbledore discovered twelve uses for dragon's blood; does that mean people hadn't studied dragon's blood before? Of course not! 

Kid, there's nothing shameful about standing on the shoulders of giants — what matters is that you're the first to invent it! Hold on, I need to write two letters!"

Wade's heart, which had been racing, began to calm down.

He suddenly realized that Professor Murray had no intention of monopolizing his alchemical achievements. He was simply genuinely happy for Wade.

It was just that Professor Murray's enthusiasm and his overly excited expression had made Wade feel threatened.

He slowly adjusted his breathing and heart rate, realizing that his mindset was a bit off.

— Because of Quirrell and... Dumbledore, his level of trust in the school's professors had become very low. He instinctively suspected them with the worst intentions.

But in reality, Professor Flitwick was gentle and kind-hearted, and Professor Murray had been helping and guiding him since they'd met. It was really unfair of him to doubt them like this.

Unaware of Wade's inner turmoil, Professor Murray wrote a few lines before suddenly asking, "By the way, Wade, what's the name of this creation of yours — it should have a name, right?"

Wade tried to respond calmly, "Yes, I call it... 'Book of Friends.'"

He wrote "Book of Friends" on the paper, but felt it lacked a bit of charm, so he wrote the three words "友人帐" in Chinese characters.

"What is this?" Professor Murray curiously poked at the three flowing characters that resembled a painting.

"It's the Chinese characters for 'Book of Friends,'" Wade explained, then pronounced it once more in Chinese.

Professor Murray clumsily mimicked the pronunciation, pondered for a moment, and then smiled. "Not bad. This could become your unique signature."

He continued writing his letter. "Wade, have you applied to stay at school during the holidays?"

"No," Wade replied and sat down beside him. "My parents have been looking forward to me coming home."

"On the third day after Christmas, I'm hosting a small party at my home. Be sure to keep that day free," Professor Murray said. "I can introduce you to some... hmm... friends who could be quite helpful to you."

"Of course, it would be my honor, Professor."

Wade, feeling guilty, was being particularly agreeable.

"And remember, keep your 'Book of Friends' a secret for now. Don't make it public," Professor Murray said with a wink and a smile. "I'll have a surprise for you during the holidays."

The lingering embers of suspicion still smoldered in Wade's heart, and he instinctively became cautious. He hesitantly said: 

"Uh... actually, I was planning to give it as a Christmas gift to my friends. If the response is good, I thought I could sell it in a small circle among my classmates, just to earn a bit of pocket money—"

"Oh—Wade—Wade—"

Professor Murray looked up at him, his gaze was soft, as if he was looking at a child, and he chuckled gently. 

"My boy, you're still young, so you don't understand. There are two types of alchemists in this world—

Those who learn a bit of alchemy and then work for the Ministry of Magic or various companies. They are called alchemists, but in reality, they're just laborers for capital. 

Then, there are the other type of alchemists, like me—"

He pointed a finger at his own chest, then at Wade.

"—and you."

Wade's eyes widened slightly.

"Surprised? Do you think it's too soon for me to say something like this about you?" Professor Murray asked, almost as if he could read his mind.

Wade nodded. "I thought... this was just a simple little thing... I'm only just starting out in alchemy."

Professor Murray smiled and shook his head. "The person who invented the quill probably also thought it was just a simple little thing, but we've been using it for over a thousand years."

He finished writing his letter, stamped it with his seal, and sent it off with an owl. Finally, he advised Wade:

"It's fine to exchange small gifts between friends, but you should probably skip selling it yourself—your time should be spent on more valuable things, not on being a peddler."

...

That evening, after finishing all the Book of Friends he planned to give out during the holiday, Wade returned to his dormitory. Exhausted, he collapsed onto his bed, thinking about all the people he had met here.

Quirrell and Voldemort wandering around the castle.

Dumbledore—coldly treating the lives of teachers and students as pieces on a chessboard, yet still the protector of this school.

"Don't you feel wronged?" Michael had asked him.

Ryan had said, "I thought things like this would be far from us."

Fred had said, "Dumbledore really does know everything."

Hermione had said, "Dumbledore is right... the heavy reality and hatred would crush him."

And then there was Harry Potter... the Boy Who Lived...

Wade covered his eyes with his hand, looking as though he had fallen asleep.

Suddenly, a soft "pop" sounded in the room, like a bubble bursting.

Wade immediately opened his eyes and turned to look. Standing in the center of the dormitory was the house-elf, Zoe.

"You've come, Zoe," Wade smiled. "Thank you for agreeing to my request earlier."

Zoe spoke in a soft voice, "Wade Grey needed help, so of course Zoe is happy to help. But Zoe didn't receive any signal, so she came to check on him."

"That's because I didn't run into any danger today. Professor Murray turned out to be better than I expected."

Wade took a small green "bean" out of his pocket and showed it to Zoe.

It was their communication device, and Zoe had one as well.

After finishing the Book of Friends, Wade had also made these small magical beans, using transfiguration spells and binding spells. Whenever he squeezed his bean, the one in Zoe's hand would heat up.

Ever since that "chance encounter" with Quirrell, Wade had been thinking about how to ensure his own survival. Dumbledore had his own plans, and the professors wouldn't go against Dumbledore's orders to act as his bodyguards. The only ones willing to help him unconditionally were the school's house-elves.

Luckily, he has a good relationship with the house-elves responsible for the Ravenclaw Tower.

These unique creatures can Apparate to any corner of Hogwarts, and their magic is even stronger than that of some adult wizards. Although they can't defy the professors, helping a student escape danger doesn't violate their duties.

So, Wade had made an agreement with Zoe—whenever the magical bean in her hand heats up, Zoe will immediately come to his side and transport him to a safe place.

Before meeting with Professor Murray today, Wade had carried the magical bean, preparing for the worst. Fortunately, he didn't have to use it.

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