Under Wayne's careful guidance, Fudge finally spotted the silver lining.
That's right.
All the mistakes had been made by his predecessor and old Barty Crouch. They had absolutely nothing to do with him at the time.
In that case, if Sirius's case were overturned, the ones who'd suffer most wouldn't be him, but those other two.
Not only could he reinforce his image as a staunch enemy of injustice, but he could also tarnish the reputations of his predecessor and former rival. Why wouldn't he do it?
"Fudge... are you serious?"
Sirius, as the person directly involved, hadn't quite caught on yet. He eyed Fudge suspiciously.
"You're not just trying to placate Dumbledore before throwing me back into Azkaban, are you?"
If he were still alone in the world, he wouldn't mind going down together as long as Peter Pettigrew was caught too.
But things were different now. He had Harry to look after—he couldn't leave his godson to fend for himself.
"Mr Black, you misunderstand me," Fudge declared righteously. "As Mr Lawrence said, everyone makes mistakes, but should officials cover up their errors?"
"On the contrary, mistakes made by Ministry of Magic officials deserve even greater scrutiny. Rest assured, I won't let any wizard involved in your trial escape justice!"
These resolute words immediately boosted Sirius's opinion of Fudge.
Dumbledore finally caught on, giving Wayne a strange look.
Had this boy been raised on politicians? How could he pinpoint Fudge's vulnerabilities so precisely?
Wayne shot Dumbledore a glance before turning to Fudge with feigned surprise:
"Minister, you're completely different from the officials I've encountered. You're someone who gets things done."
"I'll definitely speak with Madam Greengrass upon my return, have her promote your work... We can't let people misunderstand you."
Fudge beamed at this promise. "Mr Lawrence, you're most perceptive. With media support, I'm certain the public will better appreciate our efforts."
"Undoubtedly," Wayne smiled, then suddenly adopted a pensive expression.
"That Peter Pettigrew was truly difficult to capture. I barely subdued him after a perilous duel. Had it not been for the courage my Order of Merlin medal inspired, I doubt I could've succeeded..."
"You—"
The words barely left Pettigrew's mouth when he found himself completely silenced, unable to even move his lips.
Sirius looked utterly bewildered.
Leaving aside whether "perilous" was appropriate – given Wayne had only conjured a magical projection – that projection hadn't laid a finger on Pettigrew after thrashing both him and Snape!
Dumbledore's expression turned peculiar. He seemed to have guessed what Wayne was angling for...
In other matters, one might call Fudge a fool.
But when it came to quid pro quo, he was razor-sharp – and Wayne wasn't hinting so much as shouting his intentions.
"The Ministry never fails to reward its heroes," Fudge said warmly.
"Mr Lawrence, rest assured, upon our return, I'll personally recommend you for a Second Class Order of Merlin..."
"Only second class..." Wayne pouted in dissatisfaction. "Have you forgotten what you said at the Three Broomsticks?"
Fudge blinked, taking a long moment to recall.
His expression turned awkward.
"First class... that would still be rather difficult."
"Let me be the recommender," Dumbledore suddenly interjected.
"Mr Lawrence already has two second-class medals... I think it's worth attempting. If unsuccessful, we can always revert to second class."
"Very well then."
Fudge ceased his objections and agreed.
With both himself and Dumbledore as guarantors, there shouldn't be any major issues.
Thus, an exchange of interests was concluded—no casualties, everyone benefiting.
Afterwards, the group discussed further details.
Fudge still wished to take both Sirius and Peter back into custody. Until their retrial, both men occupied uniquely precarious positions.
But Dumbledore revealed their status as unregistered Animagi, emphasising how this significantly dampened Dementors' ability to detect them.
Moreover, given Dementors' hatred for Sirius, they might disobey orders and administer the Kiss outright.
He proposed overseeing both men personally until the trial commenced.
After brief hesitation, Fudge acquiesced.
The custodian mattered little—if either escaped later, the blame wouldn't fall on him anyway.
This had actually been Wayne's suggestion. Dumbledore had initially considered handing Peter Pettigrew to the Ministry first, but Wayne vetoed it.
The rat was slippery, a master of escape. One Ministry oversight, and he'd vanish.
Snape's custody was ideal—flawless security guaranteed.
If Peter escaped, Snape would commit seppuku in apology.
...
Half an hour later, Wayne and Fudge left the office.
Umbridge and a group of Aurors swarmed forward.
Fudge extended his hand with a smile. "Mr Lawrence, we'll reconvene on the trial date then."
Wayne shook it. "Indeed, Minister. Once all is settled, I'm certain public perception of the Ministry will improve markedly."
Yes, Wayne would testify at Pettigrew's trial. Moreover, given the Wizengamot's peculiarities—its difficulty assembling full panels daily—Scrimgeour's trial would occur simultaneously.
Thus, Wayne served as both plaintiff and witness.
The Scrimgeour incident hadn't soured relations between Wayne and Fudge.
Though they'd arrived together, they weren't political allies.
A man being assaulted before Fudge, the Minister for Magic, undeniably trampled his dignity.
Yet... with Scrimgeour's downfall, Fudge could finally install his own loyalist.
His choice? The ever-loyal Kingsley Shacklebolt—appointed since Fudge's inauguration!
Learning of Fudge's decision, Wayne's internal reaction was... complicated.
What impeccable selection—directly picking an Order of the Phoenix pillar.
The Ministry now struck him as a distillery, Fudge playing Gin—surrounded entirely by schemers.
His sole loyalist? Umbridge, the vodka equivalent of a pair of legendary strategists.
Truly pitiable.
"Stop staring, piss off," Wayne said with disgust as he felt Umbridge's scrutinising gaze upon him.
"You!"
"Minister, what Dumbledore said earlier made perfect sense..." Wayne ignored her and addressed Fudge directly:
"You should be more careful when choosing close associates. People might think you've developed a fondness for keeping toads as pets."
"Pfft!"
One of the Aurors couldn't help but snort.
Umbridge's face fell with rage. She glared fiercely around, but seeing everyone's awkward expressions, she could only direct her venomous stare at them collectively.
Fudge also felt rather embarrassed.
After Wayne's remark, he couldn't help feeling his dignity had taken a hit.
Others had secretaries who worked during business hours and... entertained after hours...
But this one... was simply impossible.
Without further pleasantries, Wayne headed straight to the Great Hall to grab some food.
Only when he disappeared around the corner did Umbridge withdraw her hateful gaze.
"Headmaster, this Lawrence fellow, just because he's received two medals, shows you no respect whatsoever. He treats the Ministry of Magic with utter contempt."
Fudge gave her a peculiar look.
"Who told you Lawrence disregards the Ministry because of his Order of Merlin medals?"
Umbridge asked in confusion, "Isn't that the case?"
"Of course not - someone at your level wouldn't understand." Fudge said something rather cutting before continuing:
"The truth is, Lawrence genuinely doesn't care about the Ministry, but that's because of his background. The medals have nothing to do with it."
"Those things... are probably just childish hobbies to him."
Considering Umbridge had been somewhat useful, he offered rare advice: "Remember, don't provoke him in future. Even I couldn't protect you if you did."
"You're not in the same league. Don't humiliate yourself."
He then turned to the Aurors behind him: "That goes for all of you, too. Scrimgeour ended up where he is precisely because he crossed Lawrence. Always be courteous regarding anything involving him."
"Don't think your Auror status gives you authority over him."
He emphasised the last few words heavily, making everyone shudder.
Scrimgeour's sudden downfall had caught many off guard. They'd assumed it was just punishment for security meeting failures - nothing so severe.
But now... they realised the situation was far more complicated.
...
As it was Monday and Wayne had no afternoon classes, he ate in the kitchens before returning to his dormitory for a nap.
He only emerged when Harry dragged him from the common room after others finished lessons.
Hermione followed, equally curious about Wayne's whereabouts all morning.
"Wayne, what was the outcome?" Harry asked nervously.
"Sirius's innocence still needs confirming through another trial, but waiting a few more days won't hurt." Wayne said, "You can visit him in the Headmaster's Office, but don't tell anyone."
"Sirius is still technically a criminal. If word gets out he's at Hogwarts, there'll be trouble."
"I understand." Harry nodded excitedly, thanked Wayne, and hurried off.
Seeing the child so happy, Wayne decided not to bring out the recording to collect his debt.
Let him enjoy a few more days of happiness.
Only after Harry had left did Hermione finally succumb to her curiosity and ask, "You said Black is innocent earlier? What exactly happened?"
Wayne pinched her cheek, earning a playful scolding from the young witch.
"I'll explain everything when everyone's gathered tonight. Otherwise, I'd have to repeat myself countless times."
Faced with such significant gossip, Hermione was burning with impatience and hurried off to find the other girls.
An hour later, inside the suitcase pocket world.
Gardevoir had prepared a lavish feast, and Wayne took advantage of her cooking time to explain the entire sequence of events.
After hearing the story, the girls reacted differently.
"That Peter Pettigrew is utterly shameless! To betray his friends just out of cowardice!" This was Hermione.
"Poor Black... he didn't deserve to suffer so much." This was Cho.
"He and James Potter were far too overconfident, but... who could have predicted this?" This was Penelope.
"Professor Lupin is a werewolf?" This was Astoria.
Her adorable bewilderment made everyone laugh, dispelling the melancholy from the earlier story.
"Astoria, even Snape hinted at it so obviously. How could you not have realised?"
Hermione began questioning: "He must have covered Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons for you, right?"
"Yes," the wealthy girl nodded obediently.
"And did every lesson focus on werewolf-related knowledge?"
"Mhm," the wealthy girl nodded again.
"Now, if you match Professor Lupin's monthly disappearances with certain characteristics and think about it?"
Astoria tilted her head in thought for a long while before finally having an epiphany: "So that's it!"
Her large eyes widened in astonishment as she looked at Cho and Penelope: "Did you all know already?"
Cho smiled helplessly: "Professor Snape's hints were too obvious. It was hard not to notice."
"Not just us—many observant students probably figured it out too."
"But he's still the best Defence Against the Dark Arts professor we've had, so everyone tacitly agreed not to mention it," Cho sighed.
Setting aside Lupin's identity, he truly was an outstanding professor.
"What a silly girl," Wayne chuckled, ruffling Astoria's white hair until the flustered girl threw herself into his arms.
Being the only one who hadn't realised made the wealthy girl rather embarrassed.
...
Over the following days, everyone was surprised to find the Dementors had withdrawn from the school grounds. Speculation ran wild—had Sirius Black been captured, or had clues about him emerged elsewhere?
Those privy to the truth had been cautioned by Dumbledore and revealed nothing.
Meanwhile, Harry visited the Headmaster's Office with unusual frequency.
Until the term ended, Sirius would stay there with Dumbledore, and Harry seized every opportunity to chat with him under the guise of seeking advice.
Dumbledore happily indulged this, wanting the two to bond.
However, he refused Sirius's request to remove Harry from his aunt's household, much to both their frustration.
While they brooded, Snape was uncharacteristically buoyant.
Peter Pettigrew wasn't taken away. Dumbledore had handed him over to Snape for custody.
Despite Pettigrew's desperate resistance, no one cared about a prisoner's demands.
To properly entertain his old friend for a few more days, Snape had rented Wayne's Whip of Mercy until the holidays, using all future Potions class exam results as payment.
It wasn't that he couldn't perform the Cruciatus Curse himself, but rather that he feared his version would carry too much hatred – he might accidentally drive Pettigrew to insanity with it.
While satisfying, that outcome would certainly incur Dumbledore's wrath.
Snape knew full well the immense expectations and leniency Dumbledore had harboured towards Sirius and that dead fool James.
Lawrence's whip was far better. Though the pain it inflicted matched the Cruciatus Curse, it wouldn't drive its victims mad.
...
The final Potions class before exams.
As usual, Snape swept into the classroom, his robes billowing behind him.
With a flick of his wrist, an extremely complex potion formula appeared on the blackboard – a specialised nutrient solution for highly toxic plants.
The students stared at the lengthy procedure, their eyes glazing over.
Wasn't today supposed to be a revision?
Why were they being made to brew such difficult potions?
Snape offered no explanation. He swept his gaze across the room and said solemnly, "No need for groups. Each of you will practise with your own set of ingredients."
The corners of his lips curled slightly. "In this lesson, I won't deduct points from anyone. Even if you waste materials, I won't care..."
"I only want you to fully unleash your creativity... Don't rigidly follow the procedure..."
"Remember, a true Potions Master is never confined to fixed recipes."
"Begin now!"
The students exchanged bewildered glances, unsure what had gotten into him today.
Wayne, however, seemed to have guessed something, his expression turning peculiar as he was the first to rise and collect his ingredients.
Only then did the other students dare to move.
To their greater astonishment, throughout the entire lesson, Snape truly kept his promise—he didn't reprimand a single student for rule-breaking. Instead, he encouraged everyone to be bolder, more unrestrained.
Thus, everyone's potions careened wildly into the unknown...
Observing the unrecognisable substances in Toby and Norman's cauldrons, Snape smiled in satisfaction.
Even he, a Potions Master, couldn't discern their properties—perfect for testing on Peter Pettigrew.
After all, constantly whipping someone would tire one's arms...