The atmosphere at the banquet was exceptionally lively.
Firstly, it was to welcome Wayne as a guest, though the fellow seemed more at home than Sirius himself.
Secondly, it celebrated Harry's acquittal.
Molly was so delighted that she exceptionally allowed the children some low-alcohol beverages and poured herself a glass of mead.
Opposite Wayne sat the twins, Ron and Harry; to his right were Arthur and Kingsley; to his left were Astoria, Ginny and Tonks.
Counting the entire Weasley family, there were fewer than thirty attendees today.
In truth, the Order of the Phoenix had far more members—at least double that number.
But not everyone was available, with some even on missions abroad.
Ginny and Astoria whispered together, while Tonks, though considerably older, retained such childlike enthusiasm that she blended perfectly into their circle.
One moment she'd conjure a pig's snout, the next a long duck's bill, sending the girls into fits of giggles.
Meanwhile, Wayne found himself cornered by Arthur and Kingsley, who were discussing Ministry affairs.
"The Anti-Corruption Department is indeed a splendid idea," Arthur said. "Barty asked me today if I'd consider transferring there."
"Did you accept?" Wayne inquired.
"Best leave it for now." Arthur shook his head slightly. "Fudge remains wary of my ties with Dumbledore—I wouldn't be surprised if he's having me watched.
"Joining the Anti-Corruption Department might only cause trouble for Barty."
He added with a chuckle, "Besides, I've no desire to work under that workaholic Barty. I'd be coming home two hours later every day—Molly would have my head."
Kingsley eyed him disdainfully, as if mocking Arthur's lack of ambition.
"What're you looking at? A grown man without even a girlfriend, and you've the nerve to judge," Mr Weasley retorted, flushing with embarrassment.
Instantly, Kingsley's face darkened—though to be fair, it was already quite dark.
"Then find me one, why don't you?"
Wayne couldn't help laughing. "While you're at it, solve Sirius's romantic troubles, too. Every time I visit the Headmaster's office, his great-grandfather nags me about it ten times over."
"Leave me out of this," Sirius interjected hastily upon overhearing. "I'm perfectly content as I am—no need for any woman."
"Then what of the Black family lineage?" Wayne countered.
Perspectives differed based on circumstance.
Had he been working gruelling hours with barely enough to survive, continuing the family line wouldn't concern him.
But given his upbringing and education in this life, Wayne considered bloodline continuation a solemn duty.
Even if he disliked pure-blood ideology, he supported preserving ancient family names.
Sirius hesitated at this.
Seeing this, Harry added earnestly, "Sirius, I really think you should marry. I'd quite like a little brother or sister."
These were his genuine feelings—he didn't want Sirius to remain childless because of him.
Sirius grew more tempted.
He envisioned a future where he would have children, raising them together with Harry.
Arthur pressed his advantage while the iron was hot: "I think Harry makes a good point. A lively household is better—look how outstanding my children have turned out.
"Many female employees at the Ministry often talk about you. Come visit sometime, I'll introduce you around."
At this topic, Molly grew excited, nudging Lupin aside as she prepared to introduce Sirius to several of her relatives.
Wayne leaned in and whispered in his ear.
Arthur's eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead, his mouth hanging open: "You're serious?"
"I think it could work. Ask her when the time comes."
Arthur nodded, dumbfounded. "Alright then."
"What are you two talking about?" Kingsley eyed them suspiciously.
"Nothing." Arthur shoved his large head away, still somewhat dazed.
At first glance, it sounded absurd.
But upon reflection... it was actually somewhat fitting.
Wayne's instincts were truly uncanny.
The meal lasted a long while. By the end, all the food on the table had been devoured, and Kreacher brought out numerous small cakes and puddings.
Just as Astoria was rubbing her full little belly, the Order of the Phoenix received another 'heavyweight' guest.
"Madam Longbottom! What brings you here?"
Arthur hurried forward to greet her.
Madam Longbottom exchanged pleasantries with him and nodded to several others in the room before her gaze settled on Wayne.
"Dumbledore mentioned your gathering today. I've come to see Mr Lawrence."
"Madam, are you already prepared?" Wayne guessed her purpose and cut straight to the point.
"Yes."
"Let's speak over here."
Wayne rose and led Madam Longbottom to a small side room adjoining the banquet hall.
Madam Longbottom produced several small crystal vials filled with swirling silver mist.
"These contain memories from every member of the Longbottom family, as well as Frank's close friends and classmates. Everything is here."
"The quantity should suffice." Wayne examined the twenty-plus vials on the table and nodded.
"Are you confident then?"
Given that this concerned her son and daughter-in-law's potential recovery, even Madam Longbottom's composure cracked under the tension.
"About eighty per cent. I'll do my utmost." Wayne didn't promise certainty, but hearing 'eighty per cent' already satisfied Madam Longbottom.
After repeated thanks, she departed hastily.
Wayne attempted to invite her for refreshments, but Madam Longbottom declined—she needed to supervise Neville's summer homework.
Late into the night, Wayne finally brought a drowsy Astoria back home.
After dinner, Sirius had dragged him off to drink with Kingsley and others.
Bottle after bottle, they fretted over Voldemort's schemes, lamented the conflict between Dumbledore and the Ministry—no shortage of worries.
Yet gradually, the conversation shifted to Arthur sharing secrets of domestic harmony, followed by Kingsley and Sirius literally kneeling to beg Wayne for dating advice.
Especially Kingsley—it wasn't that he didn't want to marry.
Nobody would have him!
A large dark-skinned man—even with status and authority—found it no simple matter to attract a suitable wife.
Thus, what Kingsley admired most about Wayne wasn't his magic nor influence, but his ability to expand the Lawrence family tree.
The Shacklebolt family had only him left as the sole remaining branch!
With great effort, Wayne finally managed to escape from the group of drunkards.
After quietly carrying the sleeping Astoria back to her bedroom, he took the memories given by Mrs Longbottom to his laboratory.
One by one, silvery strands were poured into the Pensieve.
With a wave of Wayne's arm, the liquid in the Pensieve suddenly began to boil, its vapours rising to project the memories as images in mid-air.
Wayne multitasked, simultaneously viewing multiple people's memories.
The difficulty of treating the Longbottoms far exceeded that of brainwashing young Barty—they weren't even on the same level.
His brainwashing of Barty hadn't been thorough; it was more like draping a layer of false dreams over real memories. Before death, or under extreme shock, this dream layer could shatter.
But for the Longbottoms, he needed complete dream coverage over their already shattered minds—essentially rebuilding their entire lives.
Both the scale of the dreams and the complexity of weaving them presented significantly greater challenges.
Barty hadn't been stupid; he'd retained independent thinking and could rationalise inconsistencies himself.
But for the Longbottoms, Wayne needed to arrange every detail for them.
The memory images in the space kept shifting—some from friends, some from family, with overlapping sections between the two.
Wayne needed to piece together these scattered memory fragments, no small task.
Mrs Longbottom's memories alone filled four vials, a testament to the mother's love for her son and daughter-in-law.
This wasn't work that could be finished quickly. After a preliminary review and noting key points, Wayne went upstairs to sleep.
He planned to treat the Longbottoms after term started, giving him an excuse to slip out of school regularly.
While he could come and go as he pleased, he had to show some respect to old Dumbledore—he was still Headmaster after all.
For now.
Holding Astoria, Wayne soon closed his eyes.
Feeling the familiar embrace, the sleeping Astoria instinctively nuzzled closer, finding a more comfortable position as she slept more soundly.
...
In the final days of the holiday, Wayne relaxed completely, enjoying the remaining break.
Voldemort's return hadn't yet shown any visible harm or influence—he was lying low, gathering old followers and practising new Dark Magic.
According to intelligence from Lucius, the blackness on Voldemort's body was gradually fading—from covering half initially to just one third now.
He probably wouldn't make any major moves until he had fully digested these changes.
Dumbledore seemed to have guessed this too, recently reducing his activities and even finding time to write letters teasing Wayne about his swordsmanship progress.
Truth be told, he had been practising.
With the Sword of Gryffindor in hand, it made sense to learn Gryffindor's swordsmanship—useful for passing himself off as a Gryffindor descendant later.
An hour or two of daily practice served as good exercise anyway.
That day, a small black dot suddenly appeared in the tranquil back garden, rapidly expanding into what looked like a bottomless black celestial gate.
Wayne stepped out, wiping sweat from his face before sheathing the sword.
Regarding the inheritance of the Celestial Dragon King, he'd now progressed to studying space-related knowledge, with considerable gains.
The Extension Charm expands space while remaining fundamentally connected to the external world.
But just now, Wayne had temporarily created a small alternate dimensional plane—subsidiary to the primary plane yet independently existing.
The only pity was that his current strength couldn't sustain this space indefinitely. Otherwise, such a portable pocket dimension would be far more convenient than a suitcase.
Based on his deductions and the inherited knowledge, once he broke through to the legendary level, this pocket dimension could be permanently solidified.
Moreover, it would grow alongside his power, eventually reaching a state indistinguishable from the real world.
After returning to take a bath, Wayne changed into fresh clothes and headed to Cho's house.
Today was Mr Chang's promotion celebration, and he had invited Wayne to join.
In just two and a half years, he had climbed from a minor clerk to the position of Deputy Head—though still deputy, the actual Head was nearing retirement and barely showed up at the Ministry of Magic.
Clearly, this was just a transitional arrangement due to his rapid ascent.
Those unaware might assume Mr Chang had simply stumbled upon incredible luck for such a meteoric rise.
Those in the know could only sigh at his good fortune in having an excellent daughter.
Mr Chang evidently had some self-awareness about how he'd reached this point, hence the deliberate invitation to Wayne.
But after a few bottles of alcohol, he changed.
The rain wouldn't last forever, but a man's cringe certainly could.
"The Ministry still has some sense—I've worked diligently for over a decade, and this promotion was long overdue," Mr Chang slurred, his face flushed as he launched into another tirade against the Ministry's incompetents, wearing an expression of exaggerated despair.
"Stupefy!"
Wayne stared in shock as his mother-in-law calmly knocked him out with the spell.
"Sorry about that, Wayne," Mrs Chang said with a faint smile. "Old Chang's always been like this—once he's drunk, he can't keep his mouth shut."
"Understood, understood," Wayne replied with an awkward chuckle.
"It's getting late. I'll have to look after Old Chang tonight, and you've had quite a bit to drink yourself. Let Cho see you home."
"Thank you, Auntie."
Wayne caught the subtext immediately. Without another word, he took Cho's hand and made his exit.
At last, no meddling father-in-law stood in his way.
The two didn't Apparate right away; instead, they strolled through the neighbourhood for a while. Only when the fog thickened and the temperature dropped sharply did Wayne finally bring Cho home.
Gazing into the girl's limpid, autumn-water eyes, Wayne found himself growing fonder by the second.
To put it bluntly, even a dog would've found that look full of devotion.
Cho read plenty in Wayne's gaze, too, her cheeks flushing. But rather than retreating, she stepped forward and kissed him.
In that instant, sparks flew.