Sakura truly admired Wayne.
Though she never sought special treatment due to her gender or looks, she couldn't deny that many at Mahoutokoro instinctively went easier on her.
Especially those boys with ulterior motives, who constantly tried to curry favour, though she always refused them.
But Wayne? Far from going easy on her, he'd clearly been deliberately teasing her today.
This only fuelled Sakura's competitive spirit.
A Firebolt meant nothing – with her skills, she could definitely beat Wayne.
Five minutes later, the match ended.
Tomoyo was doubled over with laughter. Even as a complete novice, she could see Wayne's flying skills far surpassed Sakura's. After humouring her for a while, he mercilessly caught the Golden Snitch.
Seeing her friend's amusement, Sakura asked plaintively, "Tomoyo, whose side are you on anyway?"
"Yours, of course," Tomoyo replied cheerfully. "But Sakura must honour her bet. I've already prepared the frog costume and matron uniform."
Sakura's face flushed crimson.
That evening, screams echoed through Lawrence's mansion:
"No, please don't!"
"Wayne, I'm begging you, stop taking photos!"
...
For days afterwards, Sakura turned tail whenever she saw Wayne.
But after Tomoyo explained the situation, Sakura realised what trouble she'd nearly caused – almost sending their host to an early grave on her very first day.
Full of remorse, Sakura sought Wayne out to apologise properly. To her surprise, he just waved it off:
"No need to dwell on the past. We're even now – didn't I take plenty of photos of you too?"
"We are not even!" Sakura's cheeks burned as she recalled that night. "You and Tomoyo ganged up on me, making me... wear those embarrassing outfits."
Wayne rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I thought they looked perfectly normal. Very becoming, actually. Don't you agree, Tomoyo?"
"Absolutely stunning," Tomoyo said with a smile.
Sakura was dumbfounded. How had her best friend become Wayne's accomplice in just a few days?
Seeing her crestfallen expression, Wayne stood up with a chuckle.
"Alright, you two catch up. It's the World Cup final tomorrow, and friends want to discuss arrangements. I'll be back tonight."
"Hermione and the others will visit later. Have dinner without me."
Both girls nodded.
"Understood!"
...
The Burrow.
Wayne Disapparated mid-air, landing with a thud that startled Harry and Ron, who were busy chasing goblins in the backyard.
"Hey, busy?" the boy greeted cheerfully.
Ron yelped in pain, having just dropped a club on his foot.
Ignoring him, Harry ran over excitedly. "Wayne! What brings you here?"
"Final's tomorrow – wanted to check your preparations. When did you arrive?"
"Sirius and I got here yesterday."
"Sirius is here, too?" Wayne looked surprised.
At that moment, the third-floor window of The Burrow was pushed open, revealing two red-haired heads and one black-haired head.
It was Sirius and the Weasley twins.
Sirius waved his arm excitedly. "Wayne, come up! We were just talking about you."
Fred and George chimed in, too.
"Wait for me then."
After saying a quick word to Harry and Ron, Wayne entered The Burrow and made his way to the twins' bedroom on the third floor.
Unexpectedly, there were two others inside – one was Charlie, and the other he didn't recognise, though the trademark red hair gave away his identity.
"Charlie, when did you get back?" Wayne smiled, embracing the standing Charlie. "These muscles – you've bulked up even more."
"Just a few days ago," Charlie laughed heartily. "Dragons aren't easy to handle. It's all a necessity."
He pulled the younger boy further into the room. "Let me introduce you to our eldest brother, Bill. He works as a curse-breaker for Gringotts near the pyramids."
Compared to Charlie's dark, brawny physique, Bill was practically the opposite extreme, with definite potential as a pretty boy. His long red hair cascaded over his shoulders.
Two outrageously large earrings dangled from his ears, and he wore a leather jacket and trousers adorned with shiny accessories – an outfit reminiscent of a Muggle rock star.
Yet Bill's temperament wasn't as fiery as his appearance suggested. He extended a friendly hand. "Hello, Wayne. I've heard your name for ages. Finally meeting you."
"Likewise," Wayne shook his hand. "George and Fred mentioned that since you went abroad for work, their beatings have significantly increased in frequency."
The room erupted in laughter.
Sirius brought over a chair for Wayne. "Charlie was just telling us about your exploits at the dragon reserve. Hard to imagine – your life's so exciting. Why didn't I stumble into such adventures back in my day? Actual dragons!"
Fred and George simultaneously thrust out their hands. "Presents!"
"What presents?" Wayne eyed them suspiciously.
"Dragon reserve souvenirs, obviously," Fred waggled his eyebrows. "We won't ask for dragon blood – just a few scales will do."
"Who carries that stuff around casually? Wait till term starts." Wayne ignored them, turning to Sirius instead. "Are you going to tomorrow's match?"
Sirius nodded. "Fudge sent me tickets – Harry's got some too. We're staying here tonight, leaving with Arthur's lot tomorrow."
"Wayne, why don't you stay over as well?"
"Better not – I've got two friends at home. I'll be going with Hermione and Cho tomorrow. Our campsites are next to each other anyway."
"Suit yourself."
After more chatter, Charlie and Bill went downstairs to help Mrs Weasley with dinner preparations.
Wayne produced a small cart.
"I've got your requested items ready. No issues with the products, I hope?"
George grew visibly more animated. "None at all – top quality guaranteed."
"The finals really are Bulgaria versus Ireland! Your prediction was spot-on, Wayne. We're going to make a killing."
Fred crouched down to examine the trolley with its many compartments, each enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm to hold vast quantities of merchandise.
"What are you two planning?" Sirius caught the scent of mischief in the air.
"Just selling some souvenirs," George replied, pulling their stock from under the bed – flags from two countries, logo-adorned hats, screaming cheer badges and an assortment of magical fireworks.
Sirius, ever the overgrown child, immediately perked up at their presentation.
He bought multiple items of everything, particularly the fireworks – purchasing twenty Irish-supporting varieties in one go, which had Fred and George grinning from ear to ear.
Business was booming before they'd even reached the venue, and wealthy customers were always the most satisfying.
By six in the evening, Mr Weasley and Percy returned punctually from work.
Molly's dinner summons echoed throughout The Burrow as Fred and George dashed outside. Sirius deliberately slowed Wayne's pace, barely containing his excitement as he whispered:
"Wayne, Regulus has recovered."
"So quickly?" Wayne showed mild surprise. According to Dumbledore, Snape had spent over two weeks getting nowhere, yet Grindelwald had solved it already?
As expected of you, old Gellert.
"Dumbledore said he consulted an old friend," Sirius said cheerfully. "Being one of Dumbledore's associates, it's hardly surprising they could manage it."
"Unlike Snape, wasting all that time while trying to freeload from my family's library."
"Absolutely, freeloading's despicable," Wayne nodded in agreement. "We mustn't give Professor Snape any advantages."
Their shared understanding sparked mutual amusement, instantly bridging the distance between them.
Upon entering the sitting room, all discussion of Regulus ceased.
Mr Weasley beckoned Wayne to sit with a warm smile, while Percy rose solemnly to shake his hand with bureaucratic gravitas.
Once Wayne was seated, Percy resumed lecturing Mr Weasley about cauldron thickness regulations, oblivious to his father's pained expression.
"Percy's gone mad," Ginny whispered in Wayne's ear after sitting herself beside him. "He's treating home like the Ministry and Dad like Fudge – reporting his work achievements."
"Truthfully, nobody cares about cauldrons being a few millimetres thinner. Crouch can't even remember his name."
Wayne couldn't suppress a chuckle at the analogy.
"Ginny!" Ron frowned disapprovingly. "You're a girl, mind your manners."
"None of your business," Ginny shot her brother a glare and continued regaling Wayne with Weasley family anecdotes.
With her as a distraction, Fred and George's operations ran smoother – Molly's suspicions never found concrete evidence.
When Bill returned, Molly's focus shifted entirely, leaving the twins unsupervised.
She vowed to normalise Bill's hair and fashion sense, but each haircut regrew overnight – reportedly due to his own hair charms.
"Try Fiendfyre," Wayne suggested. Ginny shuddered at the notion, while Bill's frozen smile indicated he'd overheard.
Are young wizards this ruthless nowadays?
During dinner, the conversation naturally revolved around tomorrow's match, clearly splitting into two factions.
The Seeker faction, led by Harry and Charlie, staunchly supported Bulgaria. Then there was the team faction, headed by the twins and Mr Weasley.
"A good Seeker isn't the deciding factor at all! Look at Ravenclaw - Cho's brilliant enough, but her teammates simply don't deserve to win!"
George, having drunk some of Bill's mead while Mrs Weasley was upstairs preparing for tomorrow, had flushed cheeks.
Charlie immediately objected: "Bulgaria's still a national team. Even if their Chasers are weaker than Ireland's, the gap can't be that huge."
Ultimately, neither side could convince the other, so they switched to drinking games.
Wayne was also dragged into drinking by Sirius, then pulled away by Ginny to play Magic Awakening with Bill - losers had to down a large glass of whisky.
Ron excitedly summoned the owl Sirius had gifted him, swearing it wasn't an Animagus.
Seeing all these underage kids being corrupted, Mr Weasley helplessly went upstairs to distract Molly.
Opportunities like this came maybe once a year - best let them indulge.
By the end, the twins and Bill were out cold.
George and Fred had foolishly tried to outdrink Charlie, thinking numbers would give them an edge, but miscalculated.
Charlie had spent years drinking with dragon keepers in the reserves to relieve stress - after knocking out the twins, he kept casually sipping like nothing had happened.
Bill proved the biggest fool - he'd become obsessed with Magic Awakened upon first play, convinced skill could beat Wayne's max-level account. The outcome was predictable.
Looking at Bill snoring against a table leg, Wayne shook his head.
Silly boy... how could a grinder possibly beat a pay-to-win cheater?
With a wave, he levitated the three unconscious figures back to their rooms before leaving The Burrow.
Gazing at the dark night, Wayne didn't head home, but flew towards the village outskirts.
Luna, reading The Quibbler in bed, suddenly sat upright.
A flash of light - and Wayne appeared before her.
"Why have you come?" Luna tilted her head.
Wayne unceremoniously flopped onto the bed, catching his breath. "Just had dinner at the Weasleys' and thought I'd drop by to see you."
Luna had barely risen when he pulled her back down.
"Where are you going?"
"You've been drinking. I'll make you some tea."
"Don't bother." Wayne hadn't expected Luna to be so considerate. Applying slight pressure, the girl lost her balance and tumbled into his arms.
The young man adjusted his hold, closing his eyes contentedly.
He'd held plenty of girls before, but Luna and Astoria gave him the most comfortable feeling.
Young men ran hot-blooded, and these two girls' cooler body temperatures perfectly balanced his own. However, Luna had more curves than Astoria – that wealthy little girl was truly like a porcelain doll, making him afraid to hold her too tightly.
Feeling warm breath against her neck, Luna squirmed slightly.
"Are you staying tonight?" she whispered.
"No." Wayne kept his eyes shut. "Just resting a while before I go."
"Remember to come find me tomorrow."
"I know."
Mr Lovegood hadn't managed to get good seats – they'd originally planned to arrive at the campsite two weeks early. But Wayne had secured them VIP tickets near the front, saving Luna considerable trouble.
Suddenly, a muffled male voice came from outside the door: "Luna, I thought I heard you talking to someone?"
The usually serene girl showed rare panic.
"No, Daddy, you must have misheard!"
"Is that so?"
"Of course... mmm~!"
Luna tried to speak further, but her mouth was abruptly sealed.
Just a wall away, Mr Lovegood remained completely unaware that a kind young man was teaching his daughter various uses for her tongue.
Hearing no response from Luna, he assumed she'd fallen asleep, dismissing it as his imagination before returning to his room.
A full five minutes passed before Wayne released Luna. The girl lay panting heavily against his chest.
"Why... Daddy almost found out," she complained softly.
"No reason." The boy stared intently at her. "Just for the thrill."
With that, he pressed her down again.
Luna closed her eyes in resigned acceptance.