Devon, Nicolas Flamel's Manor.
A blinding flash of fire suddenly appeared in the central garden. As the flames dissipated, Wayne and Hermione landed on the ground.
Hermione looked pale, clutching Wayne's arm tightly.
This felt completely different from Apparating with Ho-Oh.
When Ho-Oh transported people, it was like being stuffed into a bubble that popped immediately upon arrival.
After a few times, once you got used to that abrupt suffocating sensation, it became bearable.
But Fawkes dragged them spinning through what felt like a sewer pipe before bursting out.
The comfort level was several tiers lower.
Still, Hermione wouldn't say any of this in front of Fawkes. One had to consider a bird's feelings, after all.
Wayne took out two fiery-red fruits and said softly, "Here, eat up."
These were Ruby Berries, resembling raspberries and strawberries – a key ingredient in beauty potions and Ho-Oh's favourite snack that made feathers more vibrant.
Fawkes chirped happily before flying off with the berries in his beak.
"Isn't that Albus's Phoenix?"
An elderly voice came from behind them. Nicolas Flamel had arrived after hearing the commotion.
Wayne approached with Hermione and smiled. "I accidentally brought Fawkes home. Thought I'd take him out for some fresh air – staying cooped up in a tiny office all day isn't healthy."
"Let me introduce you. This is Hermione Granger, my girlfriend."
"Mr Nicolas Flamel, it's an honour," Hermione said nervously. "I've read your books 'Elemental Transmutation' and 'The Path to Gold' – they're wonderfully clear and perfect for beginners."
Nicolas chuckled. "I know you. Two years ago, you were the one who deduced the Philosopher's Stone was at Hogwarts. Quite brilliant."
Hermione lowered her head modestly.
"Come, let's talk inside." Nicolas shuffled forward with small steps as the pair followed.
Along the way, Nicolas asked several questions about concepts mentioned in the two books Hermione had referenced.
After hearing her answers, he nodded approvingly.
"Solid fundamentals. You've got potential in Alchemy – Wayne should teach you more."
Scholars recognise kindred spirits. Just meeting Hermione made Nicolas feel he'd encountered a fellow academic.
If she dedicated herself to studying, she could achieve great things in Alchemy.
After a while, Perenelle appeared. The elderly woman was delighted to see Wayne, but her face fell when she heard he would be leaving that very evening.
"It's the holidays now, why not stay a few more days?"
"Because there are matters to attend to in London," Wayne reassured the old lady. "Don't worry, I'll definitely come to stay with you after July."
He didn't mention Sirius's situation. Such wrongful convictions were hardly unusual occurrences for two six-hundred-year-old individuals.
Remembering his purpose for visiting, Wayne had Hermione keep the old lady company while he took Nicolas to the laboratory.
The moment they entered, the old man eagerly asked:
"Have there been new discoveries about Ravenclaw's Diadem?"
Wayne's unannounced and hurried visit made the reason easy for Nicolas to guess.
"Not exactly good news," Wayne shook his head as he produced the diadem.
"I did seek out Helena Ravenclaw, but she'd never used this diadem either. However, she was absolutely certain its effects were far more complex than we've observed."
"Is that so?" Nicolas looked disappointed but quickly rallied.
"Well, it's still progress of a sort," he said, admiring the diadem's mysterious engravings.
"Truly worthy of Ravenclaw's craftsmanship – even you and I can't detect anything unusual about it."
"You keep it for further study," Wayne said, handing it over.
Since he lacked time to decipher its secrets himself, it was better left to Nicolas's patient research. Perhaps one day, they'd uncover its proper usage.
...
That evening after dinner, Wayne returned to London with Hermione.
The journey employed the same method as before. Though still unpleasant, having mentally prepared herself this time, Hermione didn't feel nauseous.
Standing at her doorstep, the young witch asked wistfully:
"Wayne, will you take me to the Flamels' again next time?"
A single afternoon hadn't been enough – she hadn't even explored a third of the estate.
"Of course," Wayne smiled. "Once Sirius's case is resolved, I'll take you back."
He then shook his head ruefully. "Pity Newt's gone wandering again, though. Otherwise, we could have visited him to see the Nundu and Blast-Ended Skrewts."
"That's alright," the girl said, rising on tiptoes to kiss Wayne before skipping cheerfully inside.
"There'll be other chances."
...
In the following days, Wayne remained at home.
The girls visited daily – sometimes to study together, other times to go shopping.
After Hermione and Cho began preparing props for the World Cup finals, Astoria became the most frequent visitor.
The wealthy young witch arrived punctually every morning after breakfast.
While regulations prohibited underage wizards from having Floo Network connections at home, Wayne's future mother-in-law happened to be Head of the Department of Magical Transportation.
Rules always had loopholes.
In the system, Wayne's fireplace maintained a "temporary connection" status – though the exact duration remained unspecified.
Perhaps when he came of age, "temporary" would seamlessly transition to "permanent," entirely above board.
In addition, he received various invitations from Crouch every day, all requesting his presence at dinners hosted by certain individuals.
These individuals referred to members of the Wizengamot.
The temptation of longevity and youth would drive the elite and high-ranking figures of the Muggle world into a frenzy—and the wizarding world was no different.
The more powerful and content one was in life, the more they yearned to keep living and restore their youth.
Thanks to the Elixir of Life he provided, Crouch had become a sought-after figure among many Wizengamot members.
As for Wayne, their attempts to curry favour with him were now blatantly obvious.
However, the young man found these social engagements distasteful and declined every invitation.
Another piece of good news came as a relief to him.
Fleur had decided not to visit for the World Cup finals this summer, choosing instead to stay in France for special training ahead of the upcoming Holy Grail War.
It wasn't that Wayne didn't want to see Fleur—he planned to make time for a trip to Paris in August to spend time with her and Gabrielle.
What he was relieved about was that, at the very least, he wouldn't have to worry about any explosive confrontations during the World Cup.
Delaying the inevitable was better than nothing.
...
One late June morning, the fireplace in Wayne's home suddenly flared green, and Astoria stepped out of the flames.
"Gardevoir!"
Gardevoir emerged from the kitchen, her eyes glowing blue as she meticulously swept the soot from the young girl's clothes.
"Thank you, Gardevoir." The little girl beamed. "Where's Wayne?"
Gardevoir pointed towards the back door, and Astoria immediately understood, hurrying outside to find Wayne grooming Tuantuan in the garden.
"Wayne, Mum asked me to give you this letter."
The boy set down the brush, patted the giant panda's belly, and Tuantuan wobbled off to find a sunny spot to lounge in.
After skimming the letter, Wayne tucked it away.
"Just tell your mother I got the message."
"Okay."
Astoria nodded, uninterested in whatever the two had discussed.
She was far more concerned about what delicious treats Wayne would take her to eat later.
The next day, a headline dominated the front page of the Daily Prophet:
Black, Azkaban Escapee, Captured—Hidden Truths Revealed?
The article stated that Sirius Black had been apprehended by the Ministry of Magic but had not been handed over to the Dementors. During his conversation with the prisoner, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge discovered that Black had been convicted without trial over a decade ago, violating legal justice.
Moreover, Fudge had uncovered new evidence and intelligence, all suggesting that Black might be innocent—and that the true culprit was someone else.
Many were baffled by the news, especially adult wizards who still remembered the original reports.
Black had allegedly blown up half a Muggle street and killed thirteen innocent Muggles.
How, after twelve years, could it suddenly not have been him?
The following day's headline was even more explosive:
Criminal or Hero? The Truth Will Be Unveiled in Three Days
This time, there was an interview column with Fudge, though it revealed little, only further stoking the curiosity of the wizarding world.
Everyone was waiting for the trial results in three days to see if Black was truly innocent.
...
The Burrow.
Mr Weasley was also reading the newspaper.
The entire Weasley family had already learned the truth from Ron. When they discovered that Peter Pettigrew had transformed into a rat and hidden in their home for twelve whole years, Molly nearly fainted.
After recovering, she kept apologising to Percy and Ron before storming out of the house to inspect every animal in the entire village, not even sparing the ghoul in the attic.
Only after ensuring no other Animagi were lurking nearby did she finally calm down.
Finishing the newspaper, Mr Weasley sighed and said, "I used to consider Peter Pettigrew a friend. Who could have imagined he'd betray James and Lily?"
"He always seemed like such a cowardly person."
"I was genuinely upset for quite some time when he supposedly died."
"He's a disgrace to Gryffindor," Ginny said disdainfully. "The Sorting Hat must have been blind. Peter Pettigrew should've been placed in Slytherin."
Fred, having finished his milk, teased, "Ginny, the Sorting Hat doesn't have eyes."
"It's a metaphor, can't you understand metaphors?" Ginny glared fiercely at her ridiculous brother.
"Honestly, can't you all be quiet!"
Percy, dressed in a suit that wasn't his but Mr Weasley's – making it hang loosely on him – shouted loudly.
"My interview is coming up soon. Can't I just revise in peace for a while longer?"
"Oh, we're terribly sorry to disturb you, future Minister for Magic Weasley," Fred said, standing up to give an exaggerated bow. "Have I jeopardised the future happiness of the wizarding populace? I suppose I deserve a Dementor's kiss for that."
"George!" Mrs Weasley said disapprovingly. "If you've finished eating, leave at once. Today is very important for Percy – don't provoke him."
"Mum, I'm Fred."
"That doesn't matter. Both of you, out of the dining room."
The twins exchanged glances and shrugged helplessly.
"Come on, Ginny, we're going to do homework. Want to join?" Fred winked.
"Wait for me." Ginny grabbed a piece of bread and followed the twins upstairs.
Mrs Weasley eyed the trio suspiciously. Since when did these two start their summer homework so early? And why were they taking Ginny?
But she didn't dwell on it, instead smiling at Percy.
"Darling, there's no need to be so nervous. You're Head Boy with outstanding grades – you'll sail through the interview. Isn't that right, Arthur?"
"Absolutely," Mr Weasley agreed. "Percy, if even you can't get into the Ministry of Magic, they must not be hiring this year. And that's impossible."
Their reassurance eased Percy's tense nerves considerably.
...
Privet Drive.
Harry had been closely following Sirius's case, reading the daily papers religiously while awaiting the trial date to testify.
Finally, the first of July arrived.
Harry had barely slept last night, preoccupied with a serious question:
Where was the Ministry of Magic?
And how would he get there?
Harry hastily wrote several letters – one to Dumbledore, one to Wayne, and another to Ron. These three would surely help.
At dawn, he paced anxiously in the living room, awaiting replies.
Vernon Dursley frowned at Harry's behaviour. "Potter, what madness is this now?"
"Waiting for letters from friends. Don't mind me," Harry muttered without looking up.
"Then do it outside!" Dudley complained. "Your pacing is making me dizzy."
Aunt Petunia immediately cooed, "Oh, sweetums, why don't you go back to bed then?"
"No, I'll sleep after these two Big Macs."
"Of course, eat up then. Are two enough? You can have mine too."
"That'd be brilliant."
Dudley shamelessly snatched the burger from Petunia's plate.
Harry couldn't fathom eating Big Macs for breakfast – let alone four at once – but he decided to wait outside as suggested. At least there'd be no distractions.
As Harry opened the door, he nearly collided with Dumbledore, raising his hand to ring the bell, Sirius standing behind him.
"Ah, Harry! You're already awake?" Dumbledore beamed. "I feared we might be disturbing your sleep."
"Professor, are you here to take me?" Harry asked excitedly.
"Indeed. Outsiders require special Ministry registration procedures. I thought it best to escort you personally."
The old wizard conveniently forgot how he'd stormed in unannounced last time.
Harry nodded eagerly, stepping out immediately to follow Dumbledore.