Dumbledore found himself in a dilemma.
Harry's guess was both accurate and inaccurate.
Without the Marauder's Map and Wayne's warning, these events would still have unfolded—and Harry would indeed have been targeted by the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
The problem was that he was now orchestrating it all himself.
How awkward.
Even though he had once been a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor too...
"Harry, I'll take your intuition seriously," Dumbledore finally said after a long pause. "But I still believe Alastor isn't that kind of man. He isn't one of Voldemort's lackeys either."
"You must know—most of the Death Eaters in Azkaban were captured by Alastor. His hatred for Voldemort surpasses that of most people."
"Professor, I believe all that," Harry nodded earnestly. "But based on my experience, Professor Moody might not be a Death Eater, and he might not be swayed by Voldemort."
"But maybe he has his own agenda. Or maybe he's been replaced—not the real Moody."
"Either way, he's involved in this."
Dumbledore was speechless.
Damn kid guessed way too accurately...
"Very well, I'll keep a close eye on Moody's movements. You must also remain vigilant. If he approaches you, you can come to me at any time."
Seeing that Harry had completely cast Moody as the villain, Dumbledore couldn't very well argue further and had to go along with his reasoning.
As for how to guide Harry to better performance in the tournament... that would require finding someone else.
The first person Dumbledore thought of was Wayne.
He was both the most suitable and the most trusted by Harry.
But the problem was that hiring Master Lawrence came at too high a price. It would clean out his retirement savings entirely – truly painful...
"Alright, Headmaster, I'll definitely be careful." Seeing Dumbledore taking it seriously made Harry feel somewhat safer, though he still left the room feeling unsettled.
After giving the password to the Fat Lady, the portrait swung open to reveal deafening cheers inside. Harry was pulled in, with Fred and George shouting excitedly while half-heartedly scolding him for not telling them how to bypass the Age Line.
No matter how he explained, the Gryffindor students only cared that their house had produced a champion.
Although Ron was giving him the cold shoulder, feeling Harry had been inconsiderate by entering himself while letting him make a fool of himself.
Unable to defend himself, Harry could only gloomily pull the covers over his head.
...
In the suitcase world, Wayne held Fleur in his arms as they lay together on a rocking chair beneath a clear, starry sky.
"There's definitely something fishy about this."
Fleur was still hung up on it – not that she saw Harry as a threat, but she felt it was unfair.
"You're absolutely right," Wayne murmured, inhaling the girl's exotic fragrance as he leaned back. "But it's just a tournament. The important thing is participation."
"Did you come to Hogwarts for the tournament or to be with me?"
"Being with you is far more important." Fleur kissed the boy's forehead. "But this still makes me unhappy. Your school made such a huge blunder – shouldn't they compensate me?"
"Go on then, what compensation do you want?" Wayne put on an expression of heroic sacrifice.
The half-Veela's eyes turned sultry as she whispered something in his ear, causing his expression to gradually shift into something peculiar.
"Well... you'll have to wait a few more years."
"That's fine, I can wait." Seeing his agreement, Fleur immediately blossomed into smiles.
"Anyway, I absolutely must be the first!"
...
The next morning, Wayne and Fleur went to the Beauxbatons floor to collect Gabrielle before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast.
On the way, they ran into Hermione.
"Who really put Harry's name in?" The young witch was still fixated on this question. "I saw his reaction yesterday – it definitely wasn't him."
"It was Dumbledore," Wayne yawned, having gotten too little sleep after last night's activities. "Dumbledore wanted Harry to compete and win the tournament."
Other students nearby rolled their eyes at Wayne's words.
They might have believed it if he'd said Snape entered Harry to get him killed... but Dumbledore?
Impossible.
Hermione naturally didn't believe it either, giving Wayne a light punch before continuing angrily, "Harry's in real danger now. There must be some conspiracy here. Could it be..."
Glancing around, she didn't voice the name. Wayne ruffled the young witch's hair. "Dumbledore will handle everything."
"Gabrielle wants up too!" The little girl pouted.
"Alright." Wayne sighed helplessly and picked up the jealous little thing.
As the group entered the Great Hall, they immediately sensed the unusual atmosphere.
Harry wasn't present. The badgers were glaring at everyone at the Gryffindor table, furious they'd stolen half of Hufflepuff's glory.
Cedric looked rather lost, continuously chewing on his bread.
Other students also found the situation disgraceful. In an instant, Gryffindor found itself isolated.
The hot-tempered lions couldn't tolerate such treatment. Hearing the whispers behind them, they immediately started arguing with Hufflepuff. Students from other houses watched gleefully, practically willing them to come to blows.
"What's going on here?"
Wayne stepped forward, causing the red-faced Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan to stop their quarrel.
Seamus and Colin Creevey from Gryffindor snorted indignantly, with Colin adding:
"The Grail chose Harry. If you've got a problem, take it up with the Grail instead of badmouthing people behind their backs."
Macmillan's temper flared instantly: "Then I'll say it to your face!"
"Potter's a thief! The whole lot of Gryffindor are thieves!"
His voice carried loudly. Many Gryffindor students glared at him darkly. In the distance, Malfoy and his cronies cheered loudly.
"Well said, Macmillan! Diggory's the real champion! Potter's just a thief!"
Wayne shot a sideways glance in their direction. Malfoy's face instantly paled, and he quickly sat down, not daring to egg them on anymore.
"Do you think entering the tournament is all about glory?" Wayne asked Seamus and Colin.
"Wayne, no," Seamus shrank back slightly. "It's just that Justin and the others were saying horrible things. Not just about Harry, but insulting all of us."
Everyone knew exactly who ruled the roost at Hogwarts. No student had been born yet who dared raise their voice to Lawrence. Seeing Wayne's calm demeanour now, even Seamus, who usually got along well with him, felt intimidated.
Wayne patiently explained, "I think Ernie and Justin will calm down soon enough. Don't you agree?"
The two nodded frantically: "W-we're already calm."
It was still early. The professors weren't present, and only a few students were around. But as Wayne glanced around, nearly everyone's attention was fixed on the scene.
"I have an announcement to make." Wayne raised his voice slightly, ensuring everyone in the Great Hall could hear.
"If you envy Harry and Cedric being chosen as champions, you can always participate in the Holy Grail War."
As he spoke, he pulled out Jerry, who was still sleeping in. Jerry opened his bleary little eyes, then felt a tickle in his belly as all the treasures he'd painstakingly hoarded came tumbling out.
Clink-clank!
Gold coins and gemstones rapidly piled into a small mountain, glittering so brightly that it made countless eyes gleam with avarice.
"See this?" Wayne stuffed the frantically struggling Jerry back into his pocket. "The combined value of these Galleons and gemstones far exceeds the tournament prize money. As for the cup, I'll make you a separate one."
"Whoever joins the tournament and wins the championship—even if the organising committee doesn't recognise it—all this will be your prize!"
"But the condition is... signing a contract with me. Whether you get injured, maimed, or even die during the tournament, it has nothing to do with me."
"Life and death are fated, wealth is decreed by heaven."
"Ron, didn't you want to join the tournament?" Wayne turned to Ron, who was staring dumbfounded at the golden mountain.
"I'm giving you the chance now. No need for the Grail's selection—just register as I say, and I guarantee you'll become a true champion."
"Do you dare?"
Under Wayne's piercing gaze, Ron lowered his head and mumbled weakly, "The Headmaster would never allow it."
"Dumbledore?" Wayne raised an eyebrow. "That's not your concern. If he disagrees with such a generous offer, I'll lead all the Hufflepuff students in writing complaint letters to the Ministry of Magic."
Whoosh!
A buzz of discussion erupted in the Great Hall. Dumbledore, who'd just stepped through the doorway, silently retreated.
Behind him trailed a group of headmasters and professors, none in any hurry to enter, content to stand there watching the spectacle.
"Wayne, don't take Ron seriously," George said, tugging at the boy's sleeve and whispering, "We played too much as kids—his brain doesn't work properly."
"Then do you two want to sign up?" Wayne asked.
"No, no," George and Fred shook their heads like rattle-drums.
Even if they'd considered it earlier, seeing Wayne's dead-serious expression made them think better of it.
"Anyone else want to register? Students from other schools are welcome too." His gaze swept the room. Several students from Uagadou looked tempted until their headmaster, Zaka, charged in and smacked them upside the head.
"Idiots! With your level, are you signing up to die?"
"Beauxbatons students, this doesn't concern you," Madame Maxime said sternly, eyeing her pupils before returning to her seat.
As the various headmasters appeared and silenced their students with warning looks, many tempted individuals settled down.
"I'll... think about it," Ron stammered, his face flushing crimson before he bolted from the Great Hall.
"Best put those treasures away now," Dumbledore said mildly. "If we keep looking, even an old man like me might be tempted to join the tournament."
Light laughter rippled through the crowd, dissolving the tension.
Jerry crawled out of Wayne's clothes, chittering angrily at him before hopping down to gather his nest egg.
Gabrielle's eyes sparkled. "A Niffler!"
She scooped up the struggling creature despite its protests.
Wayne shook his head in amusement, flicking his wand to send all the coins flying back into Jerry's little belly.
Only then did Jerry resign himself to the little girl's affectionate mauling...
The incident in the Great Hall spread quickly, and in an instant, discussions about the champions dwindled, replaced by widespread astonishment at Wayne's bold move and the Niffler's staggering wealth.
The thought that a single Niffler could carry so much money on its person brought tears to countless eyes, leaving many lamenting their own poverty.
When Harry heard about it from Hermione, he nearly wanted to kneel before Wayne in gratitude.
Finally, someone understood his concerns. If given the choice, he would gladly hand over his Command Seals to Cedric and withdraw from the tournament altogether.
He considered going to the Hufflepuff common room to thank Wayne personally, but after recalling the looks he'd received from Hufflepuff students in the corridors, he quickly abandoned the idea.
...
In the kitchens, Wayne and Cedric each held a drink while several dishes prepared by the house-elves lay spread across the table.
"Still feeling unsettled?" Wayne asked.
At this, Cedric gave a bitter smile. "A little. It's only natural, I suppose. I'm no saint."
"Even if Potter didn't enter himself, he's already turned the tournament into something unrecognisable."
"I won't deny that," Wayne nodded. "But that's what makes it special. If you win, you'll leave an indelible mark on Hogwarts history."
"No need to console me." Cedric raised his glass, clinking it lightly against Wayne's from across the table. "I know that much. I'll be fine in a couple of days."
"As for winning... I'll just do my best." His confidence wasn't exactly brimming.
Wayne adjusted his coat. "Don't forget about the compensation Professor Dumbledore promised you."
"What compensation?" Cedric blinked.
Wayne pointed at himself. "He thought this was too unfair on you, so he's commissioned me to give you some special training—on his galleons."
"Really?" Cedric's face lit up.
"Of course. Wait for me in the common room on Friday night. We'll head to the Room of Requirement."
"Master!" Cedric promptly slid to his knees and clung to Wayne's leg. "The honour of Hufflepuff—my very life—rests in your hands!"
"Piss off! Get your greasy hands off me!"
...
Once the champions of the Triwizard Tournament were confirmed, the previously harmonious atmosphere in the castle shifted noticeably.
Setting aside the internal tensions between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, the seven schools had already entered a state of fierce competition.
Even the annual House Cup and Quidditch Cup routinely turned the four houses against each other like rabid dogs—let alone an event as rare as this.
Students from each school were now brimming with determination, finding every possible way to cheer for their own champions.
Hogwarts students wore support badges on their chests, with most backing Cedric and very few supporting Harry. Malfoy had even produced badges that read "Potter Stinks"—a testament to his profound affection.
The Durmstrang students ceaselessly boasted about Krum's fame and prowess, while those from Mahoutokoro spread word of their champion's genius, having reached graduation standards at just fifteen.
Students from Uagadou would suddenly transform into animals in the castle corridors, startling everyone nearby before strutting away in smug satisfaction.
The Koldovstoretz delegation was even more direct—several bear-like men roamed the halls with bottles of spirits, challenging others to drinking contests and calling them cowards if they refused.
But they all shared one common trait—dissatisfaction with Hogwarts.
Why should we only have one champion while you get two? This is clearly taking advantage of home-ground privileges to cheat.
The British are utterly shameless!
They only gossiped behind backs, leaving Hogwarts' young wizards powerless to retaliate. Being foreign students, they also dared not escalate the conflict.
Yet tensions inevitably reached a breaking point.
The badges on two Hufflepuff students' chests supporting Cedric had somehow been altered to read 'Shameless Cheaters'.
This sent the little badgers into an uproar, though no one knew who was responsible. The common room buzzed with heated discussions.
Wayne, reading by the fireplace, sighed softly as his gaze lingered on the top line of the page:
"What cannot be obtained through peace shall be taken by force."
He closed the book—Toby opposite him glimpsed the title: Mein Kampf.
Wayne approached the most animated discussion group and pointed his wand at his throat:
"Quiet! Listen to my solution!"
The badgers fell silent instantly. Upper years felt a thrill of recognition—their buried memories stirring with excitement.
After a full year's absence... was Wayne finally about to deliver another speech?!