Wayne never did uncover the thrilling story hidden behind it all before being mercilessly ejected from the Headmaster's Office by old Dumbledore.
Once outside, the boy continued muttering curses under his breath.
"Mood swings that fast, and he calls himself a Gryffindor."
"More like a Slytherin snake, just like Snape—all smiles when he needs you, then turns his back the moment you're no longer useful."
Wayne barely reined in his resentment by the time he reached the library entrance. Passing Madam Pince's desk, he spotted Hermione seated by the window.
The young witch had a thick tome spread before her, utterly absorbed in its contents.
Wayne glanced at the title—unsurprisingly, it concerned the history between house-elves and wizards.
Hermione flashed him a brief smile before returning to her reading. Unbothered, Wayne settled beside her and pulled out one of the Black Family's inherited books to browse.
Sometimes affection didn't require constant doting. This quiet companionship was equally comforting.
At eight o'clock, when the library closed, Hermione checked out her book, and the pair departed. Wayne escorted her to the Gryffindor Common Room before returning to Hufflepuff territory.
The first days of term were always the quietest—most students were frantically finishing assignments. However, a small group debated today's Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with "Moody," universally praising it.
This troubled Wayne.
Teaching-wise, Barty Crouch Jr. was undeniably brilliant. Sixty per cent of Harry's skills as an Auror came from him. If the real Moody couldn't surpass the impostor, it'd be laughable.
With this concern weighing on him, Wayne retreated into his enchanted suitcase to prepare tomorrow's card packs for release. Now that Moody was rescued, he could focus on stimulating sales.
This was prime spending season—first-years flush with pocket money, no Hogsmeade trips to drain their galleons. His new card pool would cater to all: powerful Head of House companion cards for competitive players, fashionable outfit cards for the girls, and coveted wand cards for the boys.
...
Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore sat motionless in his chair, eyes vacant but mind racing.
Voldemort had returned. Unlike his parasitic existence with Quirrell, he now possessed a corporeal form and two servants—yet this wasn't true resurrection.
The Dark Lord was fastidious to the point of obsession. Having chosen Harry, he'd wait for that precious final ingredient before fully reviving.
And this delighted Dumbledore.
If resurrection was inevitable, using Harry's blood was the optimal scenario—their shared blood would perpetuate Lily's protective charm, keeping Harry safer.
Yet now the Headmaster faced a dilemma.
Should he let events unfold under controlled conditions, forcing an early confrontation? Or intervene to thwart Voldemort's schemes, delaying his return to buy Harry and Wayne more time to mature?
One problem remained unsolved—how to destroy that most troublesome Horcrux safely.
Dumbledore's gaze flickered uncertainly as he hesitated to make a decision.
He tossed the question to the portraits of past Headmasters, and immediately, the office erupted with heated discussion.
Bound by the contract, these portraits were Dumbledore's most trusted advisory council—they would never betray the current Headmaster, and each had been exceptional figures in their time, the elite among elites.
Well, even Phineas had his unique qualities, such as an uncanny ability to make people thoroughly dislike him.
One could say it wasn't just Dumbledore scheming against Voldemort—he was facing the collective wisdom of over a dozen former Headmasters.
...
The next day, after a single day of sunshine, dark clouds rolled in once more, threatening imminent rain.
The fog outside the castle grew so thick that visibility dropped to mere metres, casting a gloomy mood over the young witches and wizards.
To make matters worse, terrible news arrived during breakfast.
Professor Moody had caught a cold overnight, and all Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons for the term had been cancelled.
This drew groans of dismay from many who had been looking forward to them.
"What nonsense!" Ron angrily split his egg in half. "Are Aurors really that fragile? Falling ill so easily."
He speculated maliciously, "You don't think Snape poisoned Moody to get back at him for transforming Malfoy yesterday, do you?"
As absurd as it sounded, Harry actually found Ron's theory plausible.
After all, Snape had been applying for the position for years—there was natural animosity between them, compounded by yesterday's conflict...
Merlin's beard...
Should he report this to Dumbledore?
Meanwhile, the atmosphere at the Slytherin table was entirely different—Malfoy looked positively smug.
Though yesterday's scare had rattled him, he'd been mentally prepared, and Snape had reassured him.
An owl had just delivered a letter from Lucius along with a large bag of sweets, praising him lavishly and urging him to keep up the good work.
Malfoy decided it had all been worth it.
"The first-purchase double reset is here, and there are loads of new cards! Lainer, come quick, let's draw!"
A student burst into the Great Hall, calling excitedly to his friend.
Instantly, everyone's attention shifted, and those who had finished eating hurried towards the side chamber.
Professor McGonagall frowned but said nothing.
She couldn't ban it—otherwise, Wayne would pester her relentlessly.
Still, restrictions were necessary. With students from other schools arriving soon, everyone needed to focus on their studies.
Thus, during that morning's Transfiguration class, they encountered a stricter McGonagall than ever.
"I cannot fathom how, in your fourth year, some of you still fail to transfigure a teacup into a mouse—this is second-year material!"
Neville practically buried his head under the desk, while Toby fiddled awkwardly with his fingers.
"Next month, students from six other schools will arrive and attend lessons alongside you. At that point, you will represent not just your houses, but Hogwarts itself."
Uncharacteristically, McGonagall showed no mercy. "From this weekend onward, any student who fails to meet my standards must report to my office at half-past one on Saturday afternoons for remedial lessons—even on Hogsmeade weekends."
"That's not fair," Hermione whispered. "I want Professor McGonagall's tutoring too."
Wayne nudged the young witch with his elbow. "Isn't my tutoring good enough for you?"
"Of course it's different. Professor McGonagall is much stricter than you."
Wayne's face was full of question marks.
He hadn't noticed this particular tendency in Hermione before.
He'd be lucky in the future.
Unaware of the strange thoughts running through the boy's mind beside her, Hermione listened as Professor McGonagall began the lesson after giving her usual warnings.
By the fourth year, students entered a phase of rapid development, and the difficulty of teaching suddenly increased, now covering material relevant to O.W.L. exams.
Today's first lesson was about transfiguring objects with actual functionality.
Each student had several leaves before them, which could be transfigured into compasses, watches, or music boxes – but not just in appearance. They had to be fully functional.
Changing the shape alone was easy for many; it was the final requirement that proved most challenging.
Justin Finch-Fletchley's watch had no hands, and the numbers on its face were jumbled. Lavender Brown's music box looked perfect externally, but when wound, it reverted to a leaf.
Professor McGonagall's weary voice rang out repeatedly as she moved between young witches and wizards, offering guidance, terrified that someone might tarnish her educational reputation.
With a light tap of his wand, Wayne transformed his leaf into a beautiful crystal ball where snow fell continuously. At its base, two small figures embraced and danced.
Hermione immediately recognised the figures as herself and Wayne, her cheeks flushing pink.
Wayne handed the crystal ball to the girl. "An early Christmas present. What do you think?"
"No, I want this now, and I still want my Christmas present too," Hermione said unreasonably, placing the crystal ball before her.
Wayne sighed dramatically. "Then I suppose I'll have to give you myself as a present."
"You're horrible~"
"Ahem!"
Professor McGonagall, standing behind them, cleared her throat forcefully. She'd already eaten a substantial breakfast, and now she felt even fuller.
Hermione immediately sat up straight, while Wayne simply smiled at Professor McGonagall as if nothing had happened.
"Mr Lawrence," McGonagall reminded him. "This is class time. Please pay attention."
"Yes, Professor."
Ron watched Wayne in awe. Had he really gotten off that easily?
Where were the reprimands, the point deductions, the detentions?
Poor Ron had never experienced the privileges of being a model student.
For students like Wayne and Hermione, as long as they didn't disrupt class, McGonagall wouldn't interfere excessively.
This reminder was solely to avoid being force-fed affection – she'd actually been drawn over by the crystal ball.
"Miss Granger, may I examine this crystal ball?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Of course." Hermione handed it over.
Holding it up for close inspection, McGonagall's expression shifted several times before she finally declared with certainty: "Permanent Transfiguration."
Hermione's face was full of confusion. "But Professor, you always said Transfiguration must be temporary? That even the most powerful witch or wizard's creations would eventually revert?"
"Miss Granger, you're absolutely correct," Professor McGonagall said with an approving smile. "It seems you've mastered these fundamentals very thoroughly."
The young witch turned her head slightly in modest embarrassment as Professor McGonagall continued, "Actually, I only encountered the concept of permanent Transfiguration a year ago myself. I haven't mentioned it to anyone because it contradicts traditional wizarding understanding."
"Knowing too much wouldn't benefit your studies – it might even become a distraction."
She hesitated momentarily before lowering her voice slightly. "What I'm about to tell you mustn't be shared with others, understood?"
Hermione nodded repeatedly, and Wayne murmured his agreement.
"You're both aware Hagrid was expelled, correct?"
"Yes."
"Expelled students have their wands snapped, but Hagrid kept the broken pieces hidden in that umbrella he always carries."
"After his name was cleared last year, Dumbledore magically repaired his wand. This should have been impossible, yet he accomplished it."
"The magic used was permanent Transfiguration, not conventional repair charms."
Professor McGonagall examined the crystal ball in her hands again. "I've inspected it myself – there's no trace of Transfiguration left. Had I not witnessed it myself, I might have suspected Mr Lawrence simply selected this exquisite gift for you from some souvenir shop."
"How exactly did you achieve this?" The question escaped Professor McGonagall despite herself.
Wayne replied softly, "If you can comprehend the distinction between change and Transfiguration, you're already close to success. But beyond that, I can't really explain further."
He'd originally studied Transfiguration and repair charms to fix his own wand. Now, the cracks from his battle with Grindelwald had vanished completely, leaving it as good as new.
"I understand," Professor McGonagall nodded.
Some insights couldn't be conveyed through words or experience alone – they had to be attributed to innate talent. That Wayne had revealed the crucial distinction was enough for her to continue researching.
After class, Hermione carefully stored the crystal ball in her bag.
Meanwhile, Wayne approached Professor McGonagall as she organised her books, presenting the incantation for the Fear Charm. "Professor, this spell works exceptionally well against Peeves."
"Thank you, Mr Lawrence," Professor McGonagall smiled, retrieving a thick notebook. "Some research notes from my recent studies. Though you probably won't need them..."
Her expression faltered slightly. While a student surpassing their teacher was gratifying...
Being outshone so thoroughly before graduation inevitably stirred complex emotions.
"Not at all. There's always more to learn – I'm certain I'll gain valuable insights," Wayne said modestly as he accepted the notebook before joining Hermione for their Charms lesson upstairs.
Professor Flitwick began with a surprise, having stacked all the desks and chairs together, forcing everyone to stand at the back of the classroom.
Today's lesson covered the Summoning Charm – a relatively simple spell only taught in fourth year because it featured in O.W.L. examinations.
"Remember, when casting the spell, you must clearly visualise the object you wish to summon. The clearer and more specific your mental image, the better. There's no need for speed, but your incantation must be firm, powerful and precisely pronounced."
Having said this, he hopped down from the thick stack of books where he'd placed a long quill, with another resting on the adjacent lectern.
"Now, let's all give it a try!"
The students formed two queues to attempt the charm in turn.
Harry went first. Gripping his wand tightly, he focused intently on visualising the quill before him and called out loudly:
"Accio quill!"
As the words left his mouth, the quill trembled slightly before drifting lazily through the air - unfortunately, it wasn't the one he'd been aiming for, but its neighbour instead.
Harry flushed crimson with embarrassment, but Professor Flitwick reassured him: "Not to worry, keep practising. This is a common mistake. Next time, try making your mental image more specific."
Student after student followed suit. Some produced no reaction at all, while others made their quills fly halfway before dropping them.
One particularly enterprising soul - Toby - attempted to cheat by using a Levitation Charm instead, which Professor Flitwick immediately detected, deducting two points from Hufflepuff.
Wayne couldn't help but regard him with reluctant admiration.
The boy was an enigma - foolish enough to attempt such an obvious deception, yet somehow skilled enough to perform the Levitation Charm nonverbally.
Dejected, Toby slunk to the back of the queue behind Wayne, making way for Seamus.
"Accio quill... I mean, Accio quill!"
BANG!
A peculiar muffled explosion sounded from within Seamus's body, drawing every eye in the classroom.
Black smoke poured from Seamus's mouth as he collapsed rigidly to the floor, unable to utter another word.
Chaos erupted in the classroom.