## Chapter 204: A Second Heartbeat
Due to the limited number of available bedrooms, all the boys, except for the two girls, had to share rooms,
with three or four of them squeezed into one.
Wade naturally shared a room with Michael, Theo, and Ryan. He wasn't one to put up with discomfort, so he used the Undetectable Extension Charm to expand the space and the Duplicating Charm to turn the single bed into four.
Although these charms didn't last indefinitely, they wouldn't revert for three to five days, which was more than enough time for them.
Before going to sleep, they talked about the portraits that seemed so lifelike.
"I wonder how Mrs. Black is doing," Ryan said, sounding a bit concerned. "Isn't it even more upsetting for her to see Mr. Regulus's body?"
"She already knew about Regulus's death," Wade said. "So... finding his body might actually bring her some comfort?"
After a long silence, Ryan murmured, "How sad... dying so young... Imagine the pain his death caused his family..."
Michael didn't want to dwell on depressing topics, so he casually changed the subject. "These Black Family portraits are completely different from the ones at school."
He continued, "Before I came, I thought I'd hear them tell some ancient stories... When I first met them, I thought they were all crazy. But as soon as Mr. Phineas arrived, they seemed to become normal again."
"Perhaps they don't want to talk to us properly because we're not Pure-bloods?" Wade speculated. "If a Malfoy came to visit, maybe they'd welcome him very politely."
They all chuckled.
They didn't feel indignant or inferior because of it; instead, they found such behavior—judging people solely by their blood status—quite ridiculous.
Michael also laughed. "So, as soon as Mr. Phineas left, they fell back asleep?"
"That might not be about their attitude; it might just be how it has to be."
Theo explained, "I heard my grandfather say that the magic in portraits comes from three sources: the magic of the person in the portrait, the spells cast by the artist, and the magic of the building the portrait is in."
"Normally, as time passes, the magic in a portrait becomes weaker and weaker. What we see is the person in the painting falling into a prolonged slumber, until one day they never wake up again."
"But if the building's magic is abundant and active, the portrait's magic also gets replenished, allowing it to last much longer."
"So the portraits at Hogwarts seem more active," Michael summarized thoughtfully. "But even the really old ones there spend most of their day sleeping."
"That's why the Black Family portraits usually don't open their eyes unless Mrs. Black wakes them up."
Ryan said, "Sirius is in prison, Regulus is dead, and this house is no longer maintained... They're dying along with this house."
Wade didn't speak. He unexpectedly thought of Griffiths.
That portrait was one of the most active he had ever seen. Not even former Hogwarts headmasters would intrude into other people's portraits as freely as he did, or even beat them up.
Of course, a large part of that was probably due to his personality.
But from Griffiths's usual remarks, he had lived at least several hundred years ago.
Didn't he weaken? Or was he able to continuously replenish his magic from Hogwarts?
Wade had some theories... but he wasn't entirely sure.
...
A lot happened that day, and many people tossed and turned all night unable to sleep. But Wade's biological clock still made him fall asleep on time and wake up at his set time.
Wade opened his eyes and reached out to the side of the bed. The next second, the top of the alarm clock on the cabinet split open, and a small yellow bird drilled out from the middle, opening its beak to chirp—
Before it could make a sound, Wade pressed it down with his hand.
Wade didn't get out of bed. He pointed the tip of his wand directly at his heart and whispered, "Amado, Animo, Animado, Animagus!"
Thump!
Wade suddenly opened his eyes, thinking he had misheard.
Thump!
Inside his chest, he suddenly felt a second heartbeat. So strong, he could almost hear his heart thumping against his ribs.
Thump!
Wade was instantly filled with immense joy, nearly shouting out loud.
He turned to share his happiness with the people next to him, but saw Michael and the others sleeping soundly.
Wade suppressed his voice, grabbed the bag next to him, and quickly left the bedroom. He went to the living room, sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace, pulled out the Book of Friends, opened the first page, and, using the light from the fire, swiftly wrote a line:
[I feel a second heartbeat!]
Before long, the Book of Friends warmed slightly, and new text continuously appeared—
[Fiona: That's wonderful!]
[Ferdinand: Is it the heartbeat needed for Animagus practice?]
[Fiona: Duh! What else could it be?]
[Fiona: My son is amazing! Come home early, I'll prepare a celebratory feast for you!]
[Wade: Okay]
[Ferdinand: All that hard work has finally paid off, you deserve this! But don't slack off, remember that many people fail one step before success.]
[Fiona: Wade understands that, of course! He's the most self-motivated child in the world! Wade, next is waiting for a stormy day, right?]
[Wade: Yes. Some people have to wait a long time for suitable weather.]
[Fiona: Don't worry, we'll go look up the weather changes from previous years right away!]
There was no further information in the Book of Friends.
Wade could almost picture his mother, hair disheveled, dragging his father out of their warm bed, moving all the old newspapers in front of the fireplace, and flipping through them one by one to record the daily temperatures in various places.
He wanted to say there was no need for such trouble; just because it rained last year didn't mean it would rain this year. All he could do was wait patiently.
He also wanted to say that there might be more convenient ways to check this, like asking the meteorological office, or perhaps there was relevant information online.
But Wade picked up his pen several times, only to smile and put it back down.
Why show off his intelligence at a time like this? Ferdinand probably knew all this, but he would still help Fiona go through old newspapers.
Giving to those you love is, in itself, a form of happiness.
"Talking to your girlfriend?"
A voice suddenly rang out in the room.
Wade was startled, only then realizing there was someone else in the living room. He was sitting in a corner far from the fireplace, almost like a part of the shadows.
"Sirius?" Wade said in surprise, then remembered what he'd just said. "No, it's my parents."
Sirius leaned back on the sofa and said, "Looks like you have a happy family."
Wade was curious. "How can you tell?"
"You've been smiling."
Sirius gestured a curve near his own mouth, saying with a hint of weariness, "Just like James when he first started dating. It's infectious; it makes people unconsciously want to smile along with you."
Wade instinctively touched the corner of his mouth, smiling unconsciously. Suddenly remembering the Black Family tragedy, he sobered up and asked, "You haven't slept all night?"
"Mm." Sirius looked up at the ceiling. "I wanted to talk to my mother, but she only cared if Regulus's funeral was dignified enough. She didn't want to say another word to me about anything else."
Wade was silent for a moment, then asked, "Regulus didn't leave a portrait?"
"No." Sirius said, suppressing his pain. "He was still very young when he died... Magical portraits are different from photographs. Wizards generally don't just make portraits randomly."
"Perhaps you could ask someone to make a portrait of Regulus?" Wade suggested. "It might not be too... lively. But for Mrs. Black, it would still be a comfort."
And it would be a comfort to you too.
Wade thought to himself.
Sirius was startled for a moment, then said, "That's a good idea... I remember my mother kept all of Regulus's baby teeth. She should still have his hair and blood... With those as materials, perhaps the portrait could be more lifelike."
He thought in a daze for a while, then suddenly said, "Wade, I owe you thanks."
I have something tomorrow and the day after, so I might take leave.
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