Chapter 58: Waning Moon
"So—your parchment—" Fred said with a pale face.
"Book of Friends, dear, it's called Book of Friends!" Fiona corrected him unhappily. How can my son's remarkable and brilliant invention be reduced to a mere "parchment"?
"Alright—Book of Friends," Fred corrected himself and stared at Wade with his eyes wide open: "You sold the patent—and they gave you 50,000 Galleons—plus a steady stream of—royalties?"
His expression was a bit off, and Wade, who had been feeling joyful, now felt a twinge of unease. His demeanor became serious as he responded: "Yes, Father."
"And someone even—offered 200,000 Galleons for an outright buyout—but your professor didn't agree?"
"Yes."
Fred looked as if he was struggling to breathe. "And you—along with that professor of yours—"
"—Professor Murray."
"Right, Professor Murray—and a businessman—went to Diagon Alley—"
"—Mr. Marco Marchionne," Wade clarified, carefully choosing his words. "They've both been very supportive of me."
"And then in front of you—and a goblin—he deposited all fifty thousand Galleons?"
"Yes, Father."
Fred's expression was so strange that it didn't seem like he was purely proud or happy for Wade, which made Wade feel slightly nervous.
He suddenly realized that he should have asked his parents for their opinion first. But under Marchionne's urgency, the whole day had felt like it was moving in 'fast forward', and Wade had instinctively overlooked this.
By all accounts, Professor Murray and Marchionne weren't careless people.
However, given that Wade's parents weren't wizards, they might have viewed him—despite being only eleven years old—as the only member of the Grey family capable of communicating equally and making decisions.
This realization made Wade feel a bit uneasy. He suppressed those feelings and tried to speak in a casual tone:
"Since the new school year is starting soon, Mr. Marchionne was in a rush, worried about missing the opportunity to make money, so everything felt hurried—I'm sorry, Dad, I should have come back and discussed it with you first."
"Oh, come on! Wade's only eleven—do you expect him to handle everything perfectly?" Fiona pretended to be upset as she pushed Fred aside, then hugged Wade tightly and kissed his forehead.
"That's amazing, darling! I'm so proud of you! How many eleven-year-olds can say they've achieved financial independence on their own? And it's all thanks to a patent that's uniquely yours! It's unbelievable! I can't believe I've given birth to such an exceptional son!"
She showered Wade with a flurry of kisses, then pulled him up from the sofa and urged, "What are you waiting for? Hurry up and have dinner! I've made a big feast! Fredi—you go wash your hands too!"
"—Alright."
As Wade was ushered toward the dining table, he glanced back and saw Fred grabbing the back of the sofa to steady himself. When he walked toward the bathroom, he even stumbled slightly, almost falling over.
Fiona didn't notice. She hummed a tune as she cheerfully lifted the lids off the dishes, releasing an aroma that immediately awakened everyone's appetites.
However, Fred could barely eat. At one point, he almost poked a tomato up his nose, and when a piece of steak fell off his fork, he continued chewing on the empty utensil before realizing it.
"Your father's just in shock!" Fiona whispered to Wade, worried that he might feel frustrated or disappointed. "When he was eleven, he could barely figure out basic addition and subtraction within a hundred!"
That was an exaggeration.
Wade couldn't help but smile, amused by the clumsy father his mother was describing, but also touched by the love that sparkled in her eyes.
After dinner, Wade cautiously asked, "Dad—Professor Murray helped me a lot today. Even though he said he didn't expect anything in return, I still want to thank him, but I'm not sure how."
From what Wade had learned in his previous life about certain "workplace rules," it would be expected to offer someone as influential as Professor Murray a substantial gift—two or three thousand Galleons, at least.
Otherwise, it would be seen as being "ungrateful." But after hesitating for a long time, Wade felt that if he actually did that, Professor Murray would likely be offended on the spot.
The lessons from his past didn't apply to this new life, at least not with Professor Murray. In this case, Wade worried it might feel less like "gratitude" and more like "insult."
As an eleven-year-old, Wade knew he didn't need to act overly sophisticated or smooth. But to simply accept Professor Murray's kindness without any gesture of thanks didn't sit right with him either.
"Oh—" Fred seemed a bit lost in thought and only responded after a while. "Write a thank-you letter, Wade."
"A letter?"
Wade hadn't expected this. During the day, he had advised Steven to write a letter, and now the same advice was being given to him by his father.
"Yes, write a letter—be sincere and put your heart into it," Fred thought for a moment and added:
"And on Professor Murray's birthday or during holidays, make sure to send a small gift. But most importantly, repay him with better achievements."
"I understand," Wade nodded.
"Yes, go write the letter, Wade. And—" Fred struggled to smile, "I'm very proud of you, son."
...
After watching his son head to his room, Fred slumped into the chair and ran his hands through his hair, looking utterly dejected.
"What's gotten into you today?" Fiona hugged him from behind, resting her head on his neck, her long hair cascading over his shoulders. She muttered in dissatisfaction:
"Wade made a little invention and sold it for a lot of money, the school's professor is so kind to him, and the businessman he met is both trustworthy and enthusiastic...
Everything is great, so why do you look like this? When Wade went back to his room, he wasn't even smiling... Fred, whatever it is, please don't be the kind of parent that spoils the mood..."
She felt her husband's tense muscles gradually relax.
"Yes, you're right," Fred grasped her hand and forced a smile. "The professor is a good man... Everything's fine... I was just too shocked. I'm sorry..."
"I'm fine. But tomorrow morning, be sure to apologize to Wade properly... He was so excited to share his achievements with you, and you couldn't even give him a smile..."
"—I understand."
...
Late at night, after Fiona had fallen completely asleep, Fred slipped out to the balcony, throwing on a jacket. He tried to light a cigarette, but his hands were shaking so much that it took several tries.
Finally managing to light it, he took a deep drag. The smoke blurred his eyes and the lonely night over London.
Only now did the overwhelming fear fully crash down on him.
My Wade... my intelligent, well-behaved, kind-hearted son... with a mind worth at least a million pounds. He had gone off with some strangers... to a place completely unknown to me...
What if something had happened to him... What if he had been harmed... What could I, as a father, have done...?
Wizards can come and go as they please, and I won't even know where to begin looking for him...
He smoked one cigarette after another, his whole body was trembling from his fingers to his toes.
The night was cold, chilling to the bone.
...
Upstairs, Wade watched the smoke drift upward in thin wisps, noticing the faint flicker of light from the cigarette glowing intermittently.
Leaning against the railing, he tilted his head back slightly and saw the waning moon, a silver hook, hanging above the spire of a distant building.
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