Temporal Disruption – Controls the flow of time within a formation, disconnecting the target from the world's timeline. It can accelerate or decelerate.
At this moment, Snape's body was completely immobilised, his thoughts and mind eternally trapped in that fleeting instant.
"How to deal with this thing..." Wayne rubbed his chin, pondering how to resolve Snape's current predicament.
After much deliberation, Wayne decided to cheat—it was simpler that way.
Begin calculations!
This time, it took far longer than when he had divined Snape's fortune.
A full five minutes passed before Wayne obtained the answer he sought, a flash of enlightenment in his eyes.
"Is this really going to work?"
"For others it might be difficult, but for me..."
Having found a solution, Wayne didn't hesitate. He first cast several concealment spells to mask the office's activity, then released Snape from his restraints.
Almost immediately, an immense pressure radiated from Wayne's body as the faint silhouette of a divine dragon materialised behind him.
Snape, who'd been considering escape, was instantly flattened against the floor, his body trembling uncontrollably.
The divine might of the Star Forger commanded reverence from all creatures.
Wayne simply looked down at him in silence.
Thirty seconds... fifty seconds...
Finally, Snape's eyes flickered. His pitch-black pupils began to lighten as the whites reappeared.
Under the aura of the Star Forged Dragon King, the Thestral's ferocity was completely suppressed, allowing Snape's consciousness to seize the opportunity and gradually regain rationality.
He'd even profited from misfortune.
He could feel the resisting force had grown extremely weak, even actively accepting his assimilation.
Snape looked up with complex emotions: "Lawrence, you're a proper bloody troublemaker."
"You nearly killed me just now, you realise that!"
The youth looked displeased.
"Professor, you're really being ungrateful. Nearly dying isn't the same as actually dying, and look at you now - perfectly fine."
"Fortune and misfortune are intertwined. If I hadn't come to help, who knows if you'd have succeeded?"
Snape fell silent.
Wayne spoke truth - he'd indeed been in a precarious state earlier, balanced between success and failure.
But never could it have progressed as smoothly as now, with the Thestral bloodline cooperating so willingly with his fusion...
Knowing he couldn't win the argument, Snape changed the subject:
"What exactly is this magic of yours? Some special Patronus?"
He'd seen this dragon silhouette multiple times before, each time demonstrating different effects.
Gazing up at the youth's towering presence, he felt an overwhelming urge to prostrate himself in worship.
"Not magic - innate ability." Wayne waved his hand, withdrawing the pressure.
He could sense Snape had essentially succeeded now, without the earlier discordant dissonance.
Snape slowly rose, an involuntary smile appearing on his face.
This sudden leap in strength was utterly intoxicating.
Moreover, this enhancement differed from mastering powerful spells.
This was an evolution of life itself, with significantly heightened magical power.
Truly, human limits existed... which was why he'd ceased being one.
But when he noticed Wayne examining him like some circus attraction, his smile faded.
Suspicion gnawed at Snape.
Wayne's earlier aura had been terrifying enough to suppress the Thestral bloodline completely - hardly human behaviour...
Had he also fused with some magical creature's blood?
Yet even a dragon couldn't achieve this. Did creatures of such magnitude truly exist?
"Right then, since you're fine, I'll take my leave."
Wayne glanced at the shattered door on the floor. Having had his amusement, he prepared to depart.
"Wait." Snape stopped him, eyes burning with intensity: "I want to test exactly how much stronger I've become."
Wayne's expression turned peculiar: "You're certain?"
...
Ten minutes later, Wayne clapped his hands and walked out through the now-repaired door.
Inside, Snape sat slumped in his chair, robes dishevelled and hair singed into curls.
"That damned Lawrence, couldn't he hold back at all?" Snape cursed loudly, though he'd prudently cast a Silencing Charm beforehand.
He'd asked Wayne to stay to assess his improved abilities, not to get beaten to a pulp.
Instead, he'd been completely overwhelmed for ten straight minutes, unable even to lift his head.
What bloody assessment was this?
The only gain was noticing his enhanced dynamic vision - spells seemed slower in flight, easier to dodge.
But against that relentless barrage of magic, even if his eyes could track them, his body couldn't possibly evade.
Dark light flickered in Snape's eyes - since merging with Thestral blood, his emerald irises had turned black.
"Thestral alone isn't nearly enough, and the quantity I fused was too small. My body can still handle more... The Thestral's potential hasn't reached its limit..."
Dragons, Phoenixes, Chimaeras, Thunderbirds, Horned Serpents, Nundus, even Lethifolds...
These powerful creatures with extraordinary abilities now entered Snape's consideration.
He didn't know how many species he could fuse with, so he must choose only the mightiest. Thestral was already the weakest among them.
Truthfully...
If possible, Ho-Oh's blood or Wayne's Thunderbird would be ideal.
But he dared not even contemplate it.
Snape knew if he voiced such a request, Wayne would bury him on the spot.
"Monster."
With a quiet snort, he began tidying his devastated office.
...
At half past five, dusk settled.
Wayne led Astoria back to the castle after an afternoon showing the wealthy young witch Ilvermorny's Horned Serpent and Beauxbatons' Abraxans.
After comparisons, Astoria still found Diana cuter and more impressive.
Though Abraxans had wings, their massive size dwarfed her - she barely reached their knees.
During their visit, they encountered Hagrid strolling with Madame Maxime.
Hagrid wore a blissful expression and a stiff suit that had clearly been stored for decades.
His overpowering cologne carried across the distance. Astoria confidently bet Wayne the perfume had expired over ten years ago.
When they entered the Great Hall, it was already packed. Wayne parted with Astoria and returned to the Hufflepuff table.
The feast commenced, but with recent lavish meals, few focused on the sumptuous spread. Every face showed restless anticipation.
Students who'd finished eating stared intently at Dumbledore, waiting for him to set down his cutlery.
Crouch and Bagman arrived with an unexpected companion - Percy.
Attending as Crouch's assistant to document the selection process, Percy glowed with pride, repeatedly toasting his superior.
While Crouch merely sipped, Percy drained his goblet each time, soon flushing crimson.
At last, the golden plates returned to their pristine state, and the noise level in the Great Hall rose considerably.
Then Dumbledore stood up, and silence fell once more.
"Now, the Grail is nearly ready to make its decision," Dumbledore said. "There are just a few minutes remaining. Listen carefully—when the champions' names are called, I ask them to proceed to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and enter the chamber through the door behind it."
He gestured towards the rear door. "There, they will receive preliminary instructions after all champions have been selected."
With that, Dumbledore waved his wand, extinguishing all candles except those inside the pumpkin lanterns.
The Great Hall plunged into a flickering half-light, with only the Grail before the staff table shining brilliantly as it spun rapidly.
Suddenly, a beam of light shot from the cup's rim, streaking towards the Durmstrang table and striking an unsuspecting Krum.
"The Durmstrang champion," Dumbledore's voice rang clearly through the Hall, "Viktor Krum."
Applause and cheers swept through the Great Hall.
Krum rose but didn't proceed as instructed. Instead, he stared bewildered at his right hand before raising it high.
"What is this!"
Distinctive markings had appeared on his hand—clearly linked to the Grail's light.
The cheers died down as everyone awaited Dumbledore's explanation.
"Command Seals—a fascinating form of contract magic," Dumbledore smiled. "They serve as proof of your participation in the Holy Grail War while also possessing remarkable utility at critical moments. A gift from the Grail to every competitor."
"Activating magic through Command Seals significantly amplifies its power, so use them judiciously."
"Each participant begins with three seals. They are finite, but the top three performers in each round will receive an additional seal as a reward."
After hearing this, Krum examined the red sigils on his hand before nodding and proceeding to the staff table's chamber.
Seconds later, the Grail flared again—this time selecting Ilvermorny's Cassandra. The boy named Wilkinson bowed his head in disappointment.
Cassandra rose amidst applause, graciously acknowledging the crowd before locking eyes with Wayne, who was clapping. She arched an eyebrow before departing.
That little minx.
Wayne chuckled to himself.
Cassandra's temperament resembled a wildcat's—prickly yet undeniably entertaining.
Next, the Grail's light fell upon the Koldovstoretz table...
A student nearly twice Harry's size leapt up, face flushed, roaring skyward.
"Ura!"
"The Koldovstoretz champion—Vladimir!"
Headmistress Katerina happily downed another vodka shot.
"Him?"
Wayne stared in surprise as Vladimir approached the chamber.
Cedric, on his right, immediately asked, "You know him?"
"Not personally, but I know his brother—competed in the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship. Mentioned having a younger brother just one year below him."
Wayne explained, "The brothers could be twins."
"I see," Cedric said with sudden understanding.
As the two spoke, the Grail made its choice once more.
"The champion from Uagadou—Buso!"
It was a tall, slender black man wearing an ivory necklace around his neck, the matte-black type, exceptionally suited for night operations.
His selection drew no surprise from the Uagadou students, who all offered their congratulations.
Wayne instantly made his assessment.
This one didn't look easy to deal with either.
Earlier, even when Cassandra and Krum were chosen, many students from their schools had shown expressions of resentment.
Vladimir was another matter—he probably hadn't expected to become a champion himself.
But with Buso, every single Uagadou student seemed to consider it entirely natural, without a hint of disappointment or surprise.
After Buso disappeared, the Grail paused for an unusually long time—a full minute—before its light finally settled on Beauxbatons: "Miss Fleur Delacour!"
Fleur rose gracefully, tossing her silvery hair, and glided over to Wayne, embracing the boy before making her way to the champions' table.
The passionate girl never missed a chance to flaunt their affection. At this point, practically the entire school knew about her relationship with Wayne.
"Look, some of them are crying!" Toby, after eyeing Wayne enviously, pointed to the Beauxbatons table, where a few unchosen girls were weeping, their delicate faces streaked with tears.
Norman frowned in confusion. "Why is it only the girls crying? The boys don't seem affected at all."
"Now that's more like it."
Wayne wiped the lipstick mark off his face with resignation. "France's three great hopes: women, short people, and foreigners."
Most surrounding students looked bewildered, though some Muggle-born young wizards burst into laughter and gave Wayne thumbs-up.
Next, the champion selected was from Mahoutokoro.
Dumbledore announced loudly: "The champion from Mahoutokoro—Sakura Kinomoto!"
Sakura happily embraced Tomoyo before walking towards the staff table amidst applause, winking at Wayne before entering the side chamber.
The Queen of Cuteness lived up to her title—even simple gestures could lift one's spirits.
Wayne unconsciously broke into an auntie-like smile.
Finally, only one school remained.
Students from all four houses fell completely silent, barely breathing as they prayed to Merlin for their house to produce the champion.
The candlelight dimmed as the Grail spun rapidly before making its choice.
The light landed beside Wayne.
"The Hogwarts champion," Dumbledore also smiled—"Cedric Diggory!"
"Damnit!" Ron exclaimed loudly, though only Harry heard him.
The cheering nearby became deafening as the badgers jumped up and down, screaming.
Cedric trembled with excitement, giving Wayne a fierce hug.
"I'm the champion!"
"Then do your best." Wayne smiled brightly too, though strange lights swirled deep in his eyes.
When he first boarded the Hogwarts Express, he'd secretly vowed to preserve Cedric's life.
You lent me ten years of romantic luck—until this decade of bachelorhood ends, even Death himself can't take you!
Unaware of Wayne's complex thoughts in that brief moment, Cedric high-fived his way down the Hufflepuff table before bowing slightly to Professor Sprout and entering the chamber behind the staff table.
The applause lasted an exceptionally long time before Dumbledore finally quieted everyone.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore said cheerfully, showing no signs of anything amiss. "Now our champions are chosen. I'm certain students from each school will give their champions full support—which itself is no small contribution—"
Dumbledore suddenly stopped mid-sentence as everyone sensed something wrong.
The previously still Grail began spinning again, shooting out a long beam that struck Harry's astonished face.
Silence—absolute silence.
Every person in the Great Hall stared at Dumbledore as he cleared his throat and announced loudly—
"Harry Potter!"