Though Ariana was hung on the wall, she remained the same shy and introverted little girl.
When Wayne first arrived, the timid girl had been too afraid to greet him.
Only after his frequent visits could they gradually converse more.
Wayne usually initiated topics, mostly trivial matters about life at Hogwarts.
Others might find it dull, but Ariana, who'd never attended school, was fascinated by such mundane details. Whenever Wayne mentioned his friends, her eyes would shine with envy.
Envy that they could attend school and live a normal life.
What seemed utterly ordinary to most was a life Ariana could only dream of.
"Wayne, if I'd lived till now, I'd be a hundred years old."
Hearing Wayne ask her to call him 'big brother', Ariana thought he was serious and whispered weakly, "You can't bully me just because I'll never grow up."
"How is that bullying?" Wayne laughed helplessly. "Ariana, many people wish they could stay eighteen forever. Isn't your current state rather... ideal?"
"Why?" Ariana asked blankly.
"Doesn't growing older mean living another year?"
Then she lowered her head dejectedly. "My brothers said... the monster inside me... with it, I probably wouldn't have lived to eighteen."
Wayne's smile faded slightly before quickly returning. "Growing up means ageing. Look at Albus and Aberforth—they've both become white-haired old men now.
"Youth is better—pretty and lovely."
"Mmm." Ariana smiled in response.
The bullying she'd endured as a child had made her extremely introverted and timid. Having finally found an agemate to chat with, she remained cautious.
She knew Wayne was comforting her. Not wanting to sadden her friend, Ariana quickly composed herself.
Wayne shared more summer anecdotes, particularly how their 'old brother' had tricked him using Gryffindor swordsmanship, making Ariana giggle.
Casually, he inquired whether she'd noticed any recent changes.
The answer was none.
'So the soul and portrait truly share no connection,' he mused.
Lately, Wayne had been playing tug-of-war with the Resurrection Stone—pulling from one end while Ariana's soul resisted from the other.
Currently, he'd drawn about twenty per cent of her soul.
Progress wasn't rapid, mainly because he disliked the sensation of significant magical power depletion. He pulled just a little daily, yet complete success wouldn't take much longer.
Today's visit was impulsive—an experiment to see if wizarding portraits maintained a connection with their owners' souls.
Suddenly, footsteps pounded upstairs before the door burst open, revealing Aberforth.
Seeing Wayne chatting with his sister's portrait, the old man's lips twitched upwards briefly before resuming their usual sternness.
"Term starts today. The train hasn't even arrived—why are you here already?"
Waving a hand without turning, Wayne replied, "That thing's too slow. Had other business today, so I came separately."
He didn't dare mention having visited Grindelwald; otherwise, Aberforth would immediately lose his temper.
The relationship between Aberforth and Grindelwald...
Tch. If they met without casting Killing Curses at each other, it'd only be because they were in good moods that day.
"Why aren't you downstairs serving customers?"
"Got tired of it. Closed up shop."
Wayne turned his head in shock. "You kicked all the customers out?"
"No, just stopped taking new ones." Aberforth pulled out a rag dirtier than the floorboards and started wiping the table, making one's eyelids twitch violently.
While cleaning, he didn't forget to sneer: "Only Albus would indulge your antics like this. Back in our day, if you dared skip the train to school, Black would've expelled you on the spot."
Wayne wasn't angered; instead, smiling. "You mean Phineas?"
"Put me in your era, he'd never have lasted so long as Headmaster."
Aberforth paused, then burst into laughter.
"True enough, that does sound like you."
He knew exactly how Wayne usually conducted himself at school. Even Dumbledore had complained to him—while he had to give passwords to enter the Headmaster's Office, Wayne came and went as he pleased.
If it had been that Black...
If Wayne's Headmaster had really been him, only one of them could have stayed.
Aberforth's mood improved considerably, and he offered: "It's mealtime anyway. Have dinner here before going back."
"No thanks." Wayne shook his head. "It's the start-of-term feast tonight. I'm going back to watch the fun."
He turned to Ariana. "Ariana, I'll visit you again soon."
"Alright." Ariana nodded obediently.
Aberforth said nothing more, watching as Wayne descended the stairs.
Though he couldn't help wondering—what could possibly be interesting about a start-of-term feast?
...
Returning to school, Wayne arrived just as the main group returned from the station.
Students filed into the Great Hall, Malfoy flanked by his two lackeys.
When he spotted Wayne approaching from Hagrid's hut, his face paled, and he tried to slip inside unnoticed.
But his worst fear materialised.
"Malfoy, haven't seen you all summer. Not even going to say hello?"
Wayne's voice sounded right beside him, forcing Malfoy to stop with a strained smile.
"Lawrence, it's quite dark—I didn't notice you there."
"How was your holiday?"
"Quite pleasant." Wayne watched his discomfort with amusement. "The Dark Lord didn't bother me all break—made for a rather boring summer actually."
Malfoy turned several shades paler. Wayne thought even a corpse wouldn't look that white after three days.
"What Dark Lord? Lawrence, that's Potter's nonsense, why would you believe it?" Malfoy fumbled for excuses.
The sight of Wayne reminded him of Voldemort's task—to assassinate Wayne, or his whole family would die.
As if he stood a chance!
"But I was the one who shattered half his body that night." Wayne leaned closer, whispering: "Your father was the Dark Lord's right-hand man. He must be thrilled about his return, no?"
"I've no idea what you're talking about."
Malfoy's expression shifted several times before he fled in panic.
Wayne smiled and didn't stop him, merely calling out loudly from behind: "Malfoy, sweet dreams."
"Thanks!" Malfoy replied without turning his head, quickening his pace.
"Wayne! Wayne!" Harry came running up, panting heavily. "I, I saw it."
"What did you see?" Wayne asked curiously.
"H-horses, no, horse-like creatures, hanging in front of the carriages. So that's what's been pulling our carriages all along." Harry gestured wildly, trying to make Wayne understand.
"Ron couldn't see anything, nor could anyone else, but there really was something in front of the carriage..."
"Thestrals," Wayne interrupted, knowing what he meant. "They're called Thestrals. Only those who've truly witnessed death can see them."
Harry froze upon hearing this.
Witnessed death?
The image of Voldemort killing Barty Crouch Jr immediately flashed through his mind.
The Great Hall, which had once held over a dozen long tables, had returned to its original size. Hundreds of candles floated mid-air, illuminating the entire space brilliantly. The ceiling remained starry as ever, radiating mysterious light.
Many greeted Wayne warmly when they saw him, while others sneered coldly—all Slytherins.
Wayne mentally noted each of them, smiling back.
As a Hufflepuff, his requirements for friends were simple: loyalty.
These people clearly knew something, hence their boldness in baring their fangs at him.
Was there any need to keep them around?
Wayne walked steadily past the Slytherin table back to Hufflepuff's spot, where Norman was waving vigorously at him, having saved a seat.
As soon as he sat down, Norman thrust the Prefect badge at him as if it were burning hot.
"Take it quickly before the professors notice."
Wayne didn't accept it; instead, he gestured for Norman to wear it himself.
"Professor Sprout gave me the badge to assign as I see fit. I'm giving it to you—you're the official Prefect now."
"That's allowed?" Norman gaped.
"Don't worry," Wayne said, turning towards the staff table. He held up the badge, shook it at Professor Sprout, then pinned it on Norman right in front of her.
Only when he saw their Head of House nod approvingly did Norman relax.
Professor Sprout knew perfectly well Wayne didn't want to be Prefect, but that was his choice. As the most outstanding student in their house, presenting him with the badge was her duty as Head of House.
Whoever Wayne eventually chose as Prefect, given his standing in Hufflepuff, no one would object.
The Great Hall grew increasingly lively. Wayne scanned the room—Dumbledore's seat was empty, only two of the four Heads of House were present, and Hagrid's spot was vacant too.
Casually, Wayne asked: "Norman, who went to the station today?"
Norman shuddered. "Snape. You've no idea—when I saw him I thought I was going blind."
"Not Professor Grubbly-Plank?" Wayne frowned.
This professor had substituted for Hagrid for a month last term. Many thought she taught better than Hagrid, though she did have a fondness for smoking a pipe.
Creak!
The side door near the staff table opened, and Snape entered with a dark expression. Beside him, a witch wearing a pink cardigan was saying something with an overly sweet smile plastered on her face.
Snape had clearly shown impatience, but the woman seemed oblivious, still behaving with excessive familiarity.
What was even more shocking was that when the two reached the back of the head table, she actually sat in Professor McGonagall's seat.
Seeing this, both Wayne and Sprout froze in astonishment.
Harry's eyes widened in shock. "I know that woman—it's Umbridge!"
"Who's that?" Ron asked weakly, his stomach growling with hunger.
"She was the one who judged me at the trial and works for Fudge—some kind of Senior Undersecretary?"
"The Ministry's Undersecretary?" Now it was Ron's turn to be shocked. "Then what's she doing at Hogwarts?"
"No idea."
Though he said this, Harry already felt a sense of foreboding.
No way...
Wayne watched Umbridge with a calm expression.
He planned to test her soon.
The reason he'd allowed Umbridge to come here...
Was because he wanted to earn some extra income.
In his eyes, Umbridge was just a pig—as long as she could be squeezed for points, she still had value.
But if the returns were too meagre and fell short of his expectations, he'd deal with her promptly to avoid her polluting his vision any longer.
Just as Wayne was contemplating this, a sudden commotion erupted in the Great Hall.
"Mr Scamander's here!"
"It's really him!"
The Hufflepuff table erupted. Rolf flushed with excitement, nearly shouting, "Grandad!"
Hearing Newt's name, Wayne immediately turned to see Newt and Dumbledore entering the Great Hall from the entrance hall, both smiling.
Wayne was dumbfounded.
Wasn't Newt supposed to be in North America with Tina? He'd just received a letter from them last week.
Why had he suddenly returned to Hogwarts?
When Newt took Hagrid's usual seat, the quicker-witted students immediately understood and broke into spontaneous, enthusiastic applause.
Newt lowered his head sheepishly, standing to bow slightly in acknowledgement before sitting back down.
Wayne numbly joined in the applause while staring at Dumbledore.
'Professor, what kind of succubus are you exactly?'