After two months apart, Tuantuan had truly become a round ball.
Emerging from the case, the panda looked momentarily confused.
Only when her small eyes spotted Wayne did she let out an "Awoo!" before curling into a ball and rolling to cling to his leg.
"So cute!"
The black-and-white colouring, chubby body and stubby legs instantly captured Cho's girlish heart.
This was the national treasure back home - as someone of Chinese descent, Cho found pandas utterly irresistible.
If Newt and Aberforth hadn't been present, she might have pounced on it.
Aberforth looked shocked. "You actually got your hands on one?"
When Wayne had suddenly told him to stop searching for the Iron-eating Beast, he'd assumed Wayne had given up.
He never imagined success had already been achieved.
"The Borgin family helped," Wayne said with a smile, crouching to pat Tuantuan's body - now entirely thick layers of fat that rippled with each touch.
"Awoo!" Tuantuan protested.
"Still complaining? Look how fat you've gotten - don't you worry about health problems?" Wayne scolded affectionately, taking out his own case for her to enter.
At normal size, the case couldn't possibly contain Tuantuan.
Wayne had to temporarily enlarge the opening, with Gardevoir inside giving an extra tug, before finally managing to bring this 'little one' home.
"You've been feeding it far too well," Wayne couldn't help but complain.
"You'll have to take that up with Tina, don't blame me," Newt sighed. "The Iron-eating Beast is too good at acting cute. Every time I try to make it exercise more, it runs straight to Tina."
"With just a bit of adorable behaviour, Tina gives it whatever it wants."
"Not only does it avoid exercise, but it also gets extra snacks daily. Over time, I simply lost control."
Hearing this, Cho couldn't suppress a giggle behind them.
The Iron-eating Beast looked dopey, but who knew it was such a clever little thing?
Wayne had told her about Tina's undisputed authority in the Scamander household. No wonder the creature had grown so plump.
"Good at acting cute, eh?" The young man smirked coldly. "No matter. I'll properly educate this little fellow."
Inside the suitcase, the round creature currently currying favour with Gardevoir and Nagini suddenly shuddered, its fur standing on end as it warily scanned its surroundings – yet found nothing.
Poor thing had no idea its life of leisure was about to end.
When it came to helping magical creatures lose weight, Wayne was quite experienced. Just ask Jerry about that.
...
After settling the Iron-eating Beast's arrangements, Newt didn't leave immediately.
He'd come with several questions for Wayne.
"I heard the Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Is that true?"
Though Newt rarely socialised, even he'd caught wind of the rampant rumours circulating outside. But as gossip tends to do, the stories grew increasingly outlandish, leaving Newt sceptical.
"It's true," Wayne nodded. "Several students have been attacked already, though none fatally."
"Once the Mandrakes mature, we can brew the restorative draught to reverse the petrification."
"I had to sneak out to come here myself."
"I hope Dumbledore resolves this soon," Newt said, looking even more troubled than Wayne.
"Tina heard about these incidents, too. She's planning to send Rolf to Ilvermorny now."
"She thinks Dumbledore's declining year by year, can't even manage the school properly anymore."
Aberforth, who'd been wiping a glass with a dirty rag, paused and said earnestly: "Tell Tina to drop by for drinks sometime. Great minds think alike."
"Aberforth, he is your brother after all."
Newt wore a pained smile, well aware of the complicated history between the two siblings.
But holding grudges for over a century? That was rare indeed.
"Precisely because he's my brother," Aberforth set the glass down. "That's why I want him to live well. But as for the Headmaster position, I believe Minerva would be far more suitable."
"When it comes to delegating tasks, no one in this world surpasses him. Minerva's been Deputy Headmaster long enough – it's time for her promotion. She's earned it."
Just as Newt was about to respond, a voice came from the doorway first.
"Perhaps that is the Headmaster's true duty? Placing each person in their proper role."
"But you're not wrong. Minerva would indeed be more suitable than I. There'd be no issue with her as Headmaster and me as Deputy."
At the sound of this voice, Cho's face drained of colour.
Wayne's mouth twitched as he quickly pulled the girl closer, murmuring reassurance before turning with resignation.
"Headmaster, what a coincidence to meet you here."
"I'm quite surprised too, Mr Lawrence," Dumbledore said cheerfully as he stepped beside Newt, winking at Wayne.
"Never expected to see you anywhere outside the Great Hall or the Hufflepuff common room."
"Oh, and Miss Chang as well."
"Now let me think... what would Minerva's standard punishment be for this?"
Cho's eyes reddened at Dumbledore's words. If Ravenclaw lost all their house points and got disqualified from the Quidditch Cup because of her...
"Professor, stop teasing Cho," Wayne said disapprovingly, glaring at the old man.
"I took such a huge risk sneaking out of the castle - all for the school's sake!"
"Pardon me, what?" The elderly wizard looked utterly bewildered.
"Can't you see?" Wayne gestured towards Newt. "I specially invited Newt here as our expert. Is there anyone in the world who understands magical creatures better than him?"
"Didn't Professor Lockhart say the Chamber of Secrets hides a monster? Who else would you ask if not him?"
Aberforth and Newt gaped at the young man.
His words were so convincing... even they, the people involved, were inclined to believe them.
"I see..." Dumbledore's emotions became disjointed. He had only meant to tease Wayne a little.
But now that the boy had responded like this, it was he who felt somewhat embarrassed.
"So, Newt, have you made any discoveries?" The elder Dumbledore turned his head.
"Well... um..." Newt fumbled awkwardly, seeing Wayne frantically signalling him with his eyes. After a long pause, he managed a complete sentence.
"We'd just finished eating and hadn't talked much before you arrived."
"Besides, Wayne knows too little information. Why don't you explain everything to me in detail again?"
"Very well." Dumbledore nodded and proceeded to share all the information he possessed.
This took a full half hour. Wayne was so drowsy he nearly fell asleep, his head bobbing intermittently.
"Petrification..."
Newt frowned in contemplation. Magical creatures with petrifying abilities did indeed exist.
He knew of several, but none with effects as potent as the legendary Medusa from Aegean tales.
Or in reality, the XXXXX-classified Banshee.
But Medusa's petrification was closer to Transfiguration – literally turning people to stone.
Not like the symptoms Dumbledore described, where the soul and consciousness seemed frozen while the body remained intact.
"Banshee..." Newt's eyebrows twitched as if he'd grasped something.
"Albus, describe the attack scenes again – don't leave out any surrounding details."
Dumbledore patiently repeated everything, finally adding, "You're welcome to visit my office and review the memories in the Pensieve multiple times. It might prove more helpful."
"No need..."
Newt shook his head slowly: "Water stains... ghosts... polished walls... I think I already know what monster lurks in the Chamber of Secrets. Though I can't guarantee it – it's merely a reasonable conjecture."
Cho perked up, sitting straight and accidentally rousing Wayne, who'd been dozing against her.
The Dumbledore brothers fixed intense gazes on Newt. The elder Dumbledore couldn't help urging, "Newt, no need for such caution. Just share your thoughts."
"Albus... do you know about the Basilisk?"
Dumbledore's pupils constricted sharply as he murmured: "Basilisk..."
"A Basilisk can petrify people?" Aberforth frowned. "I've never heard that before. Doesn't direct eye contact cause instant death?"
"That's precisely why Newt emphasised the water stains, ghosts and walls."
Dumbledore's fingers tapped the bar counter: "Indeed. Mrs Norris saw the Basilisk through the wall's reflection. Mr Smith saw its reflection in a water puddle."
"As for Crabbe and Goyle, it was Sir Binns' spectral form that saved them. The only one who truly met the Basilisk's gaze was Binns himself – but being a ghost, he couldn't die, hence that peculiar state."
The old man's eyes grew exceptionally bright.
"Newt, this is why you're unparalleled. You've identified the crux from mere fragments of clues."
"Don't say that, Dumbledore." Newt waved his hands modestly, embarrassed. "As Wayne said, this is simply my area of expertise."
"Credit should also go to your Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for providing the initial lead."
"Yes, you're quite right." Dumbledore nodded in agreement.
"Gilderoy did play a significant role, it's just a pity..." Dumbledore shook his head and sighed as he trailed off.
"He's the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets?"
Seeing Dumbledore's expression change, Aberforth said disdainfully: "Look at the sort of people you've been hiring. Is this how you're helping purge Dark Wizards from the wizarding world?"
"No, he likely isn't the one who opened the Chamber." Dumbledore shook his head. "But he has other secrets. Please forgive me for not revealing them now—we're still gathering evidence."
"Can't be bothered with your nonsense, always acting like some mystic charlatan."
Aberforth snorted coldly and took his glass into the kitchen.
"Professor." Wayne stretched lazily. "A Basilisk hiding in the school—that's rather negligent of you."
"Now, that's not entirely fair." The old headmaster, unusually, made excuses for himself. "It was the Founder's creation after all. It's only natural I couldn't detect it."
"Mr Lawrence, the Basilisk poses a threat to your friends, too. Do you have any ideas for locating the Chamber quickly?"
"Newt, perhaps you'd share your thoughts as well."
When it came to magical creatures, Hufflepuff wizards were the experts, and Newt was the best of them.
"Roosters." Newt was succinct. "I've no leads on finding the Chamber, but a Basilisk's greatest fear is a rooster's crow."
Cho suddenly gasped in realisation. "Hagrid's roosters..."
"Indeed," Dumbledore said regretfully. "It seems we wronged the Weasley twins."
"Phoenixes are also natural counters to Basilisks—their strongest petrifying gaze has no effect on them," Wayne added.
"That's an excellent suggestion."
After some discussion, Newt shared more about Basilisk behaviour and countermeasures before departing about an hour later.
Before leaving, Wayne handed him a letter addressed to Tina.
"Professor, having helped you so much, surely you won't punish Cho and me now?"
"Of course not." Dumbledore smiled. "Though do be careful—I'd rather not hear Severus accuse me of favouring other houses again."
"We'll be off then." Wayne summoned Ho-Oh.
The secret passage was one-way, so he and Cho had to Apparate back.
"Ah, yes." Dumbledore suddenly added. "If I recall correctly, Saturday evenings are when you tutor Harry and Mr Malfoy."
"I've spoken with the other professors—you may wander the castle, but you must personally escort both boys back to their dormitories."
"Understood." Wayne nodded, vanishing with Cho in a burst of flame.
...
That evening, in the familiar classroom.
Malfoy looked thoroughly wretched—the petrification of Crabbe and Goyle had shaken him deeply.
He'd always believed pure-bloods were completely safe, but reality proved otherwise.
If Crabbe and Goyle could be attacked today, tomorrow it might be him.
He'd written to his father, but Lucius Malfoy revealed nothing.
Only advising him to behave and not wander off alone, assuring him Snape would look after him.
Seeing Malfoy so despondent, even Harry couldn't muster his usual mocking spirit. In recent days, the professors had been discussing cancelling this year's Quidditch matches, leaving him and the other Gryffindor team members quite unsettled.
Wood especially seized every opportunity while escorting young wizards to Transfiguration to plead with Professor McGonagall, though it seemed to have the opposite effect.
"Today's training will be practical combat." After a shared silence, Wayne finally spoke.
Pushing his hands outward, the classroom space began expanding, growing tenfold in the blink of an eye as cleared desks and chairs flew to Wayne's side.
With a flick of his wand, the furniture began transforming into thick pythons, each measuring six to seven metres in length.
Stared down by dozens of snakes, Harry and Malfoy stumbled backwards in terror, pressing close together.
Harry looked at Malfoy: "Aren't you from Slytherin? Why are you scared of snakes?"
"Obviously!" Malfoy's teeth chattered. "We're not afraid of our own snakes, but we'd be terrified of ones trying to eat us!"
"These snakes are vegetarian, so your lives aren't in danger," Wayne said lazily. "Though getting bitten might draw some blood or lose you a chunk of flesh."
"Use whatever means necessary. Destroy these snakes, and today's task is complete."
As his words faded, the dozens of pythons hissed and charged.
Harry and Malfoy screamed, their first instinct being flight rather than fight.
While running, they wildly shot spells backwards—Stunning Spells, Knockback Jinxes, Disarming Charms—whatever came to mind.
Seeing their oddly coordinated retreat, Wayne frowned and directed the snakes to separate them, driving them in opposite directions forcibly.
"Stay away! Go after him instead!"
Seeing most snakes now pursuing him, Harry shrieked in panic—then suddenly, his voice became hoarse, his words turning to hisses.
Malfoy felt goosebumps rise as he turned to see the snakes that had been chasing Harry now redirecting toward him.
"Parseltongue!" Malfoy screeched. "Potter, you're a Parselmouth!"
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked blankly, his voice returning to normal.
Crack!
Several sharp snaps later, the pythons reverted to desks and chairs, flying aside.
Wayne approached, studying Harry meaningfully. "Well, Harry, you're full of surprises."
Harry grew more confused. "What are you all saying?"
Wayne gestured. "Malfoy, explain it to him."
Today's exercise had been deliberately designed to force Harry's Parseltongue ability into the open. Connecting all necessary clues would heighten the risk of exposing the Chamber.
He intended to push Tom's hand, to see how far the other would go.
Should Tom fail, what awaited him would be either cursed flames or venom-dripping Basilisk fangs.
Wayne Lawrence kept no idle hands around.