The group left the Headmaster's Office with mixed emotions. Professor McGonagall departed first, needing to contact Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic.
Harry and Ron headed towards the tower.
On the third floor, Lupin bid farewell to Wayne, leaving only Snape, Wayne, and the floating figure of Peter Pettigrew.
Wayne suddenly produced a whip and casually explained, "A little invention of mine - the Whip of Mercy. Leaves no marks, but each strike feels like the Cruciatus Curse."
"The previous tester suggested improvements, so I've upgraded it to this Pro version - stronger effects, more intense pain."
By the time he finished speaking, Peter was drenched in terrified sweat, while Snape's eyes gleamed.
Like a starving wolf spotting prey.
"Your terms," Snape demanded bluntly.
"Two vials of Felix Felicis for one night's use. Also, my Potions grade this term..."
"Done. Don't bother with the final exam."
Normally, Snape would have bargained, but tonight he only wanted to test whether the whip lived up to its claims.
Wayne handed over the whip and went his separate way. Snape levitated Peter to his office, placing him on a hospital bed with a twisted smile.
"No rush... we've got all night to play..."
"Oh, let me show you my recent breakthrough - Resurrection Draught. Even if you die, I can bring you back within twenty-four hours."
For many, this would be a sleepless night.
Harry lay awake with excitement - after today, he'd gained another family member. Not blood relatives like the Dursleys, but someone who truly... belonged.
He fantasised about how happy life would be with Sirius in the future—it would surely be as lively as the Weasley household.
Ron, meanwhile, was so disgusted that upon returning to the dormitory, he crumpled his bedsheet into a ball and threw it away, borrowing a spare one from Harry.
The mere thought of Peter Pettigrew having lain on that bed made him too nauseated to sleep.
Lupin's emotions were complex. The secrets from over a decade ago had finally been unveiled, revealing the true culprit behind his best friend's death.
As for Snape...
He was thoroughly satisfied.
All night, he had been wielding the expensive Whip of Mercy he'd rented at great cost.
Two vials of Felix Felicis, with ingredients alone costing hundreds of galleons—at such a steep price, not a single second could be wasted.
The screams from the room never ceased. Well, they did pause for a few minutes, but under the effects of the Resurrection Draught, Peter Pettigrew immediately became lively again, insatiable.
After venting his frustrations all night, a refreshed Snape dragged Peter Pettigrew towards the Headmaster's Office on the eighth floor the next morning.
By then, many young wizards were already up and about.
Seeing Snape parading around with a shifty-looking man bound in peculiar ways, they couldn't help but wonder if he'd awakened some... unconventional interests.
In no time, every student in the Great Hall having breakfast was buzzing about the topic.
When Snape arrived at the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore had already returned and was conversing with Wayne.
"Who would have thought there was such a convoluted story behind it all... I must say that the newspaper Fudge sent us proved invaluable in uncovering the true culprit."
At that moment, Dumbledore noticed Snape entering with Peter floating beside him and smiled.
"Good morning, Snape. And you, Peter—long time no see."
"I'd have thought Snape would have left you in an unrecognisable state."
These words seemed to trigger something. The previously vacant-eyed Peter Pettigrew suddenly came alive, screaming hysterically:
"It was me who got James and Lily killed, Dumbledore, it was me!"
"Lock me up in Azkaban, don't leave me with this demon, please, hurry—AAAAAH!"
Wayne clicked his tongue.
His voice was already hoarse. Must have been quite the intense night...
Dumbledore gave Snape a searching look, but seeing his usual expressionless silence, he had no choice but to drop it.
"Peter, it's wonderful that you're so willing to confess," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "But you'll need to repeat all this to Cornelius later—he is the Minister for Magic, after all."
"For now, could you answer some other questions for me?"
Under Snape's icy gaze, Peter nodded frantically.
"When did you defect to Voldemort?"
"A year after graduation... I was captured by Death Eaters, and I couldn't withstand the torture..."
"What information did you pass along?"
"I... I can't remember clearly," Peter stammered. "He often asked about the Potters... and... and the Order's movements..."
"..."
As question after question was answered, the smile gradually faded from Dumbledore's face, replaced by barely concealed fury behind his half-moon spectacles.
Wayne listened with a heavy heart.
Small people, great impact.
It was such an insignificant lackey who had caused such immense damage to the Order of the Phoenix.
Edgar Bones, Susan's uncle, had his whereabouts revealed by Peter Pettigrew and was subsequently killed by Death Eaters.
The Potters had to escape from Voldemort three times, twice thanks to Peter's schemes.
Several other key members had also met tragic ends because of him.
Seeing the rare shift in Dumbledore's expression, Wayne could tell the old wizard's mood was far from pleasant at this moment.
Back then, he probably never imagined that such an unremarkable figure could be responsible for so much tragedy...
"That... that's all," Peter Pettigrew finished recounting his crimes, not daring to meet anyone's gaze as he hung his wretched head low.
Dumbledore remained silent for a long while before finally speaking softly:
"Peter... may you spend the rest of your days in Azkaban, repenting for your sins."
At that moment, the doors opened once more as Professor McGonagall entered, leading Sirius Black, whose hands and feet were shackled.
"Apologies, Albus. I had to wait until all students were in class before bringing Sirius out."
Dumbledore gave a slight shake of his head. "Not late at all. Cornelius hasn't arrived yet, has he?"
When Sirius saw Dumbledore, his eyes reddened slightly.
If... if only he'd agreed to Dumbledore's plan back then and let him be the Secret Keeper, James wouldn't have died...
Looking at his sunken eyes and emaciated figure, Dumbledore took a deep breath.
He simply couldn't reconcile the man before him with the dashing, carefree Sirius Black of years past.
"Why didn't you tell me back then?" Dumbledore asked slowly.
Sirius clenched his fists tightly, breathing heavily. "I... I'm guilty. I shouldn't have switched the Secret-Keeper. At the time, I thought Peter Pettigrew was already dead... so I had to atone in Azkaban."
By the end, his voice choked up, dissolving into heart-wrenching sobs.
"Idiot! You're a complete idiot!"
The portraits of former Headmasters pretended to be dead, except for Phineas, who was hopping about in rage.
"Bloody Gryffindor turned you into the biggest fool alive!"
Professor McGonagall glared disapprovingly, but as Phineas was a former Headmaster, she refrained from commenting. The other Gryffindor Headmasters in the portraits had no such reservations.
"This bastard's too arrogant – let's beat him up!"
"You were merely annoying back then. Why are you so punchable now?"
"Can't stand it anymore, my hands are itching."
"Stop! Don't hit me! Aren't you from Ravenclaw? Why are you hitting me, too?"
"Do I need a reason to hit you?"
The red curtains slowly descended, cutting off the brawl between the Headmasters.
Dumbledore dismissed Snape and Professor McGonagall as they had classes to teach, but Wayne remained. He was the external consultant Dumbledore had invited.
Dumbledore was a man who followed rules, but he knew that sometimes rules only tied one's hands, making many matters difficult to resolve. Occasionally, one had to break conventions to achieve one's goals.
In this regard, Wayne was exceptionally skilled.
He had both power and connections, and most importantly, he was the type to flip the table without hesitation when crossed.
Having him deal with Fudge was perfect.
However... securing Wayne's help naturally came at a considerable price.
Fawkes' tail had been completely plucked bare, all the feathers taken by Wayne to make several Phoenix quills.
The proud Phoenix took out its anger on Dumbledore before running away from home.
Well, more accurately, it flew into Wayne's suitcase to play with Ho-Oh.
"Professor..." Wayne grew impatient. "Is Fudge coming or not? How much longer do we have to wait?"
Dumbledore glanced at the wall clock and smiled faintly. "The Ministry starts work at nine. Perhaps Cornelius is gathering his people now. He'll be here soon."
It must be said that Dumbledore understood Fudge very well.
In less than half an hour, Fudge arrived, followed by nine Aurors and a pink toad.
Just how afraid of death was he...
"Albus, Mr Lawrence," Fudge greeted them upon entering, then waved his hand, signalling the Aurors behind him to restrain Sirius and Peter.
Dumbledore immediately frowned and intervened. "Stop! Cornelius, what are you doing?"
"Albus, both these men are suspects. I need to take them into custody," Fudge said, mopping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief.
When he'd read Dumbledore's letter that morning, he'd been utterly stunned.
Who could have predicted such a twist – the hero once widely celebrated by the Ministry of Magic turned out to be the murderer, while Black, imprisoned for over a decade, was innocent all along...
After the initial shock, Fudge's first reaction was to cover it up. This scandal absolutely must not be exposed.
"Headmaster Dumbledore." Umbridge's shrill, affected voice rang out.
"Minister Fudge holds you in high esteem, but that doesn't give you the right to interfere with Ministry law enforcement, does it? Or perhaps... Do you have other ambitions? Grown tired of being Headmaster and fancy trying your hand at the Ministry?"
Wayne closed his eyes, massaging his temples with one hand...
If it had been a cute girl speaking in that affected tone, he might have tolerated it.
But coming from a pink toad, it felt like an assault on both his eyes and ears.
"Get out."
Umbridge blinked, as if she hadn't heard correctly, staring at the young man on the sofa with confusion.
"I said, get out!"
"Not just you – all the Aurors too. Out."
"You..." Umbridge's mouth twisted with rage. How dare a student give orders to a senior official like her?
"Umbridge, wait for me outside." Fudge cut off Umbridge before she could speak further, saying sternly, "Shacklebolt, you too."
"Minister..." Umbridge sounded utterly incredulous.
"I won't repeat myself." Fudge's expression darkened.
In the end, the Aurors and Umbridge filed out of the office, leaving only Fudge behind.
"Cornelius, you really ought to replace your assistant," Dumbledore said with a frown. "I only want to resolve this matter. I have no interest in your Ministry."
"I'll take that under advisement, Albus," Fudge replied evasively.
"Let's discuss Black's situation instead."
"Peter has confessed to everything – not just betraying the Potters, but numerous other acts of treachery."
At this point, Wayne produced a metal plate. Dumbledore stiffened; he recognised what it was.
"Mr Lawrence, you recorded it?"
Wayne offered an innocent smile. "Better safe than sorry."
He played back Peter's earlier confession.
By the time it finished, Fudge's expression had gone through a spectacular range of emotions as he stared at the wretched figure before him, unable to believe such an insignificant man had orchestrated so many major events...
"Peter Pettigrew, do you swear everything you've said is true?"
"I..." Peter hesitated momentarily, but when he saw Wayne idly toying with the whip Snape had returned, he immediately snapped to attention. "Yes, it was all me! There's probably more I've forgotten, too!"
"Look, see my arm? The Dark Mark's still there! Come and look!"
Fudge recoiled from his manic display, only regaining some composure once he'd retreated to Dumbledore's side. "If you're so eager to confess now, why didn't you speak up before?"
"I've only just realised the error of my ways, Fudge! Lock me up in Azkaban, please! I can't stay here!"
"You didn't... extract this confession through torture, did you?" Fudge asked suspiciously.
Wayne shrugged. "See for yourself – there isn't a mark on him."
"Very well." He wiped his sweat again and looked at Sirius. "But... this mistake happened over a decade ago. If it's made public, the Ministry of Magic will face enormous trouble."
"That's precisely what you ought to do, isn't it? Tell people the truth," Dumbledore said disapprovingly.
"Albus..." Fudge pleaded earnestly. "You must understand the difficulties of leadership. If the Ministry's credibility declines, it will cause even greater chaos. Many wizards will refuse to obey authority, and once disorder spreads, it won't just be about one wrongful conviction."
"Mr Lawrence, your uncle is a senior official in the Muggle government. You should understand this principle, shouldn't you?"
By the end, Fudge was hoping to recruit an ally for himself.
To Dumbledore's surprise, Wayne actually echoed Fudge's words.
"Quite right. Officials are human too, and mistakes are inevitable."
"But once a mistake is made, the aftermath must be handled properly to avoid leaving any vulnerabilities."
Wayne even gave an example.
"Just like Uncle Huck's predecessor. As soon as he stepped down, he was exposed for taking bribes during his tenure, forcing the cabinet to form a special investigation team to hold him accountable."
"Exactly, exactly." Fudge nodded fervently, looking at Wayne as if he'd found a kindred spirit.
"However..." Wayne's tone shifted abruptly.
"When Sirius was sentenced... You were only the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, weren't you?"
"That's right." Fudge nodded reflexively. "The Minister at the time was Millicent Bagnold, and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was Barty..."
Suddenly, realisation dawned on him. His face twitched violently, cycling through a range of expressions before settling into solemnity.
"Albus! This was the Ministry's mistake, and I must take responsibility!"
"Rest assured, I will ensure justice for Black. True evil will be brought to justice!"
Dumbledore stared, dumbfounded, at Fudge's impassioned, righteous declaration...