Inside Hagrid's Hut, Harry and Ron were making inquiries about the Chamber of Secrets.
Their detention period hadn't ended yet, but they'd finished scrubbing Snape's stockpile of toads. Not one to leave them idle, Snape had passed them to Filch.
The dust in the Trophy Room seemed endless, thoroughly exhausting the two boys.
Yet their labour wasn't without reward.
While polishing a Special Award for Services to the School medal, Harry - prompted by Wayne's influence - took a closer look.
The date caught his attention: exactly fifty years ago. His mind immediately leapt to the Chamber.
Later research revealed that it was also the year Hagrid had been expelled.
Excitement surged through Harry - he instinctively sensed a connection.
Risking further trouble, he and Ron donned the Invisibility Cloak and made for the hut.
At the mention of Tom Riddle's name, Hagrid's body trembled.
"That's not fer yeh ter be askin' about, Harry. Leave it ter Dumbledore—he'll sort everythin' out."
"Hagrid, were you expelled because of the Chamber?"
"No, no, it weren' fer that—it was 'cause of Aragog!" Hagrid said, eyes wide with excitement.
"Who's Aragog?"
"He's an Acromantula. Aragog ain't the monster in the Chamber o' Secrets. I asked 'im, an' he wouldn' say nuthin'." Hagrid's hands trembled. "Ye'd better go back now, or ye'll be in trouble if the professors catch yeh."
Ron looked puzzled by Hagrid's nervous agitation and was about to ask something when rapid footsteps sounded outside the door.
"Hide quick," Hagrid hissed. He hastily made the two boys put on the Invisibility Cloak and hide in a corner before nervously opening the door.
"Good afternoon, Hagrid."
It was Dumbledore. He entered, looking very grave, followed by Cornelius Fudge.
The other Aurors fanned out around the house, surrounding it.
"That's Cornelius Fudge," Ron whispered into Harry's ear in the tiniest voice.
"He's my dad's boss, the Minister for Magic."
"Hagrid, I'm sorry, but the Ministry must take action now." Fudge spoke very quickly, as though he didn't want to linger arguing with Hagrid.
"I didn' do it." Hagrid pleaded, voice shaking. "Professor, yeh know it weren' me..."
"Cornelius, even though I've said it countless times already, I must say it again." Dumbledore frowned at Fudge.
Through the cloak, Harry saw Dumbledore's angry expression once more.
The last time had been because of the incident where he'd bullied Malfoy.
"I trust Hagrid. He absolutely could not be the one who opened the Chamber."
"But Albus, this is beyond my control now," Fudge said uncomfortably. "Last time, I held back the investigation team for you, but how long has it been since then?"
"You must let me give the Wizengamot and those pure-bloods some answers, mustn't you?"
"And what if the attacks continue after Hagrid is taken away?" Dumbledore's voice grew low with suppressed anger.
"All the better then." Fudge actually brightened. "In that case, I could release Hagrid. But as things stand, he's the prime suspect."
"Bear with it for now. If it's proven not to be Hagrid, I promise to return him to you unharmed."
"Oh, and do you need a new gamekeeper?"
"Where're yeh takin' me?" Hagrid's whole body trembled. "No… not Azkaban?"
Before Fudge could answer, someone knocked heavily on the door again.
Dumbledore went to open it, and in walked a pale, middle-aged man with platinum-blond hair.
Harry recognised him immediately—Malfoy's father, Lucius Malfoy.
"Lucius?" Fudge looked startled at his appearance.
"Fudge, you're here too. Good." Lucius surveyed the scene inside with satisfaction.
Hagrid snorted angrily. "What're yeh doin' here? Git out! Leave me house!"
"You call this a house?" Lucius examined the tiny hut with exaggerated distaste. "Ah, yes, I suppose that figures, given you're friends with those Weasleys."
Harry distinctly saw Ron clench his fists and quickly restrained him.
Coming out now would be suicide.
"But I'm not here for you." Lucius sneered. "I was merely informed that Dumbledore had come here."
"You were looking for me, Lucius?" said Dumbledore, maintaining his composure with effort, though his displeasure was palpable to all.
"Whe—"
Bang!
This time, it was Lucius whose words were cut off as a burst of scorching flames erupted within the small wooden hut, from which a young man emerged.
"Quite the lively gathering?" Wayne remarked with surprise.
"Mr Lawrence," Dumbledore nodded, while Fudge promptly offered a smile.
Lawrence's name had often reached Fudge's ears, especially recently when he'd learned the young man was about to receive another Order of Merlin, Second Class—making him all the more eager to curry favour.
Only Lucius frowned.
"Lawrence? My son's tutor? You..."
The rest of Lucius's words died in his throat.
A terrifying surge of magical power radiated from Wayne's body, stirring unnatural gusts within the sealed cabin that made the firelight flicker precariously, teetering on the edge of extinguishing.
"And what was it you wished to say, sir?" Wayne asked softly.
"You're far more handsome than he described," Lucius forced a smile, abruptly changing tack. "Lawrence—what a congenial surname. Our ancestors were colleagues, you know."
Even Dumbledore, who had been suppressing his anger since entering, allowed a faint smile.
There were many things he couldn't do—self-imposed restraints.
But that didn't mean he didn't want to.
Watching Wayne exert sheer dominance was deeply satisfying to the old wizard.
"Is that so? A pleasure, Mr Malfoy," Wayne replied with equal warmth.
"Seems I've arrived at an inopportune moment. Do settle your affairs first—I'm in no hurry." Wayne took a step back, clearly intending to spectate.
Lucius Malfoy hesitated, but seeing Wayne truly had no intention of interfering, he relaxed. Producing a scroll, he unfurled it.
"It is my... pleasant duty to inform you, Dumbledore, that you have been sacked."
Lucius couldn't suppress his smirk. "Twelve governors have signed for your removal. They unanimously agree you're no longer fit to serve as Headmaster. A temporary leave of absence, shall we say?"
"That can' be!" Hagrid cried out, voice breaking. "What foul means did yeh use ter get their signatures?"
"A convict bound for Azkaban has no right to speak here," Lucius sneered at Hagrid before turning back to Dumbledore. "You will leave the school at once. In these troubled times, unnecessary personnel shouldn't linger."
"Lucius, if Dumbledore can't stop—" Fudge interjected desperately, sweat beading on his brow.
Taking Hagrid didn't mean severing ties with Dumbledore—on the contrary, he believed only Dumbledore could maintain the school's stability.
"Apologies, Fudge. This reflects the board's collective will." Lucius's grin was insufferable; even Harry was barely restraining himself from lunging forward.
Wayne watched with amused fascination.
That smirk alone proved Draco Malfoy was unquestionably Lucius's son—even if he wasn't his mother's.
"If they require me to leave, I shall," Dumbledore said, gazing into Lucius's ashen pupils. "But let me make this clear - I will only truly have left the school when everyone here has betrayed me."
"Who knows?" Lucius let out an ambiguous chuckle.
"Then please leave now, Dumbledore."
Without further ado, Dumbledore straightened his back and strode out the door. Fudge was about to summon the Aurors to take Hagrid away.
"One moment, Mr Fudge," Wayne intercepted him.
"Mr Lawrence, is there something?" Fudge looked at him quizzically.
"About Hagrid's situation - he's been wrongfully accused," Wayne said softly.
"I'm sorry, that's not for me to decide. The Ministry's documents have already been issued. He must be taken away."
Fudge showed no courtesy - he hadn't even spared Dumbledore any, let alone Wayne now.
"Of course, I wouldn't want to put you in a difficult position," Wayne said, entirely unsurprised. "But regarding the detention location, I find Azkaban excessively harsh. What about keeping him at the Ministry?"
"Well..." Fudge looked hesitant, preparing to reject Wayne after a moment's thought.
"Don't rush to decide. I hear the Ministry's recently been negotiating with the cabinet about usage rights for a certain building?"
"Indeed, for training new Aurors and recruiting medical staff for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad," Fudge nodded, not particularly surprised that Wayne knew this.
"What a coincidence," Wayne smiled slightly. "That building happens to be owned by the Lawrence family."
"We could have a good discussion about the rental terms."
"Sorry, Lawrence..." Fudge wanted to refuse - any savings wouldn't end up in his pockets anyway.
"I know you're eager, but don't be hasty, Minister," Wayne emphasised. "The rent won't change at all. However, the entire first year's rental income will be allocated as commission for the intermediary facilitating this deal."
"What's that to do with me? I'm not the inter..." Fudge froze, suddenly understanding Wayne's implication, his heart pounding wildly.
This was no small sum.
"I suppose you make a valid point," Fudge immediately changed his tone. "Rubeus is merely a suspect, not a confirmed criminal. Sending him directly to Azkaban would indeed be inappropriate."
"I'll arrange suitable accommodations for him."
"Thank you, Minister Fudge," Wayne smiled, winking at the dumbfounded Hagrid.
Lucius gasped sharply beside him.
This young man... was truly dreadful!
Using money to crush others had always been the Malfoy Family's specialty. It was precisely this ability that had allowed him to escape the purge of Death Eaters over a decade ago.
And now he'd discovered someone even more skilled at bribery – no, at accelerating wealth circulation.
This move was absolutely brilliant.
Lucius' gaze towards Wayne had completely changed.
Terrifying strength was frightening, but someone who knew how to spend money was equally fearsome.
When these two abilities converged in one person, only "truly dreadful" could describe it.
...
Hagrid was taken away, but knowing he wouldn't be sent to Azkaban visibly calmed him.
Before leaving, Lucius extended an invitation to Wayne to visit Malfoy Manor when convenient.
Wayne smiled in agreement, though he didn't take it seriously.
Such fence-sitters didn't need special attention – they'd come crawling back on their own.
Before departing, he deliberately glanced at the corner where Harry was hiding, though he didn't expose him.
The room quickly emptied. Once everyone outside had left, Harry tore off the Invisibility Cloak and exhaled heavily.
"I'm certain Wayne and Professor Dumbledore both noticed us. What do you think, Ron?"
Receiving no response, Harry turned to his friend.
Ron kept muttering: "What exactly did they mean earlier? Why did Fudge change his mind?"
Harry: "..."
...
Hagrid's removal and Dumbledore's "resignation" caused significant waves at school.
Professor McGonagall temporarily assumed Dumbledore's duties. No one doubted she'd make an excellent Headmaster, yet she couldn't provide students with the same sense of security Dumbledore had.
At least, many Slytherins were dissatisfied with this outcome.
Malfoy was the most vocal among them.
"I always knew Father would drive Dumbledore out," he said loudly enough for nearby house tables to hear. "He considers Dumbledore the most Dreadful Headmaster. Finally, we'll get someone proper."
Snape passed by at that moment.
"Professor!" Malfoy called out deliberately. "Why don't you apply for the Headmaster position?"
"Well..." Snape's lips twitched. "Dumbledore is merely suspended, and Professor McGonagall is only acting Headmaster. He remains in post for now."
"Not for long. You'd be more suitable. I'll have Father vote for you, along with other board members."
Malfoy smirked triumphantly as several Slytherins offered flattery.
"That won't happen!" Hermione spun around angrily. "Dumbledore is the most qualified Headmaster! Even if he leaves, Professor McGonagall should succeed him!"
Smiles faded from every face, even Snape's.
He glared at Hermione before departing wordlessly.
Malfoy shrank slightly. "Granger, this is the board's decision. You can't change anything – not even Lawrence could."
Now, no one in Slytherin dared to provoke Hermione, nor the other little witches close to Wayne, because they didn't want to end up like Flint, dangling from the ceiling. Malfoy was especially terrified.
Once, during Potions class, he sneered at Hermione twice. Somehow, Wayne found out.
Then, during that weekend's remedial lessons, Malfoy received Wayne's... special attention.
By the time he regained consciousness, it was already the afternoon of the next day, and his entire body ached terribly.
Still, many had come to believe Hagrid was the culprit, and security within the castle began to relax.
Only Harry remained tirelessly telling others that Hagrid was innocent, but no one believed him.
Except Lockhart.
"Harry, there are too many suspicious elements here. I trust your judgement," Lockhart said after class one day, pulling Harry aside to encourage him. "The culprit hasn't been caught yet. We mustn't let our guard down."
"Thank you, Professor Lockhart!" Harry looked at him gratefully, his opinion of Lockhart skyrocketing several levels.
He even began to think Lockhart's victories over those dark creatures might have been real—not through magic, but his brilliant mind.
After all, Lockhart was the first to deduce that a monster lurked in the Chamber of Secrets, and the first to believe Hagrid wasn't the culprit.
Harry had been thoroughly fooled.
"Don't worry, I've already gathered plenty of clues," Lockhart flashed a radiant smile. "I will catch the culprit."
"I believe in you, Professor. If there's anything I can do to help, I will."
"Of course." Lockhart feigned nonchalance. "I heard from Malfoy that you're a Parselmouth?"
Harry hesitated. "Y-yes."
"Perfect. The monster in the Chamber happens to be snake-related." Lockhart clapped him heavily on the shoulder, his tone meaningful. "You'll be a great help."
There was only one week left until the Mandrakes matured.
The grand finale always arrives just before the curtain falls.
And he had already chosen his lead supporting actor.