She's Actually a Witch

Patricia studied Lockhart closely from where she sat on the ground. He had already become a pearl-white, translucent ghost. She rubbed her eyes, ignoring the pain in her palms, and climbed up again. Reaching out toward Lockhart, who was trying to help her up but had also grasped at empty air, her small hand passed straight into his body. She lifted her head, her brows knitting, her eyes full of confusion. "Gilderoy, what happened to you? Why can't I touch you?"

Lockhart's expression froze on his face. For a moment, he did not know how to answer. In truth, even he himself had not yet fully realized the change in his form.

Wolf Mom saw the bewilderment in the little girl's moist, wide eyes, saw how battered yet strong she looked, and felt a pang of pity. As the only mother present, Wolf Mom's heart softened. She stepped forward, picked Patricia up, and stroked her back as she comforted her. "He's a wizard. Because of magic, he has to stay in this state, but it won't stop him from keeping you company."

"We're going back. Move quickly." Penelope pressed down the sun hat on her head and, without so much as looking at Lockhart, who had once been her Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, turned first. Her long curls floated behind her.

No matter how careful they had been during the fight just now, they had still made some small commotion. Although Penelope had never feared battle, she was anxious to return to Britain and did not want any more accidents, nor did she want to draw Uagadou's attention.

Hearing Penelope's cold voice, seeing her indifferent eyes and expressionless face, Patricia unconsciously shifted in Wolf Mom's arms toward Lockhart. Her little hand habitually lifted, wanting to hold Lockhart's hand,