Regrettably, old Dumbledore's aesthetic judgment was somewhat lacking, and he didn't fall for Wayne's trap.
He refused to acknowledge that Wayne's appearance could earn points for Hufflepuff, stating firmly that this was a school, not a beauty pageant.
However, when Wayne presented a plate of exquisitely crafted desserts made by Gardevoir, the Headmaster ultimately relented.
Citing last year's contribution of the Holy Grail as justification, Dumbledore awarded Wayne the Special Award for Services to the School once more, incidentally adding one hundred points to Hufflepuff.
With these hundred points, Hufflepuff's current score now matched Gryffindor's.
When Umbridge saw this tomorrow, she'd probably have a fit, wouldn't she?
Sure enough, the next day, upon seeing Hufflepuff's scoreboard almost fully restored, Umbridge felt her authority had been challenged.
"Professor Scamander, why did you award points to Lawrence?"
"He performed exceptionally well in class. Is there a problem?" Newt lied through his teeth.
"Professor Flitwick, you also gave him thirty points?"
Flitwick squeaked, "Mr Lawrence executed a splendid Tagging Charm. He deserved those points."
Finally, Umbridge turned to Dumbledore. A hundred points—a full hundred points! She was eager to hear what excuse he could possibly conjure.
Dumbledore smiled gently, exuding warmth.
"Professor Umbridge, it's tradition at this school to award two hundred points whenever Mr Lawrence receives the Special Award for Services to the School."
"So I should thank you for only adding a hundred this time?" Umbridge laughed in fury.
"Oh, no need for thanks. The remaining hundred will be added in a month's time—at Mr Lawrence's specific request."
Umbridge glared coldly at the conspiring professors before wordlessly storming off the staff table.
Noticing her expression, Wayne made a point of warning Hermione, Cho, and Astoria.
He feared Umbridge might lash out in desperation—unable to touch him, she might target his girlfriend... or rather, girlfriends.
Of course, Wayne's warning wasn't to urge them to endure quietly. Quite the opposite—he encouraged them to act as they saw fit without overthinking.
If Umbridge deliberately provoked them, they shouldn't hesitate to retaliate. As long as they didn't kill her, he'd handle the fallout.
Not only could he manage the consequences, but he might even earn more points in the process.
Hermione was the least of his worries. The young witch stood firmly by her principles—if she were in the right, she'd argue her case fiercely regardless of the opponent's status, never allowing herself to be wronged.
Astoria was usually soft-spoken, but the wealthy little witch's greatest virtue was her obedience—she'd follow his instructions to the letter.
Moreover, as a Slytherin, she was unlikely to face issues, given Umbridge's ongoing efforts to curry favour with the house since her arrival.
Cho was the one who concerned Wayne most.
She overthought things more than the other two, making her his primary worry. He spent an entire night ensuring she'd follow his advice without question.
...
Soon, Friday arrived again.
Over the past two days, Wayne had attended another Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Umbridge had learned her lesson—as long as he didn't provoke her outright, she treated him as if he were invisible, ignoring whatever book he read or homework he wrote.
But temporary avoidance wasn't permanent escape.
After class, Umbridge was once again forced to bow to Wayne, effortlessly netting him another two hundred points.
...
It turned out the pink toad wasn't so easily defeated, and her retaliation came swiftly.
However, it wasn't directed at Wayne and Hermione's group, but rather at Hogwarts' professors.
It wasn't that Umbridge didn't want to cause trouble for Wayne—it was just that Fudge had summoned her back for another scolding.
"I sent you to Hogwarts to annoy Dumbledore, not to target Lawrence," he'd said.
'If you piss off Lawrence again and he thinks it's on my orders, what then?'
'Who's going to give me that senior advisory position after I step down as Minister for Magic?'
'Get back there and make Dumbledore's life difficult!'
Seething with suppressed anger, Umbridge returned with this year's first Educational Decree:
"Henceforth, all educational expenditures at Hogwarts must be executed under the supervision of the Department of Educational Supervision. Any unauthorised spending shall be deemed illegal transactions."
The students barely reacted to this rule, glancing at it before continuing with their own affairs, but the professors suffered.
The first victim was Professor Septima Vector of Arithmancy.
She'd merely wanted to replace the students' Arithmancy charts with updated versions, costing no more than fifty Galleons in total.
Yet even this modest request was rejected by Umbridge, who claimed the old ones were still usable.
"Arithmancy is an ever-evolving subject," Professor Vector argued. "Many elements in the old charts are obsolete. If we keep using outdated versions, students will learn incorrect, antiquated—"
"They can purchase their own copies," Umbridge smiled at the agitated professor.
Vector countered, "The school has always funded chart replacements before."
"Precisely why Hogwarts burns through so much funding annually," Umbridge said comfortably. "Good day, Professor. This money won't be approved."
"You'll receive formal documentation later, in duplicate. One copy will remain in the Department's archives. Should you illegally use school funds for this purchase, you'll face legal consequences."
A furious Vector stormed out, making way for Professor Sprout.
"I need Devil's Snare seeds. Three varieties."
"That's excessive. I'll approve half," Umbridge scribbled on the requisition form.
"Do you expect students to learn solely from textbook illustrations?" Sprout stared at her incredulously. "These plants aren't for personal use—they're for the school."
"Budget constraints. You'll have to source the remainder yourself."
"A competent professor should teach effectively without materials—as I do."
Umbridge handed Sprout the approved slip and gestured toward the door. Enraged, Sprout rejected even the halved allocation and slammed the door behind her.
Having dismissed two professors consecutively, Umbridge's mood soared.
This was how things should be—people ought to fear and respect her authority.
Not act with impunity like Lawrence.
This was merely the beginning. Her influence would continue to grow until she controlled the school completely.
Then she'd become Fudge's trusted lieutenant, with the Minister for Magic position within reach someday.
A self-satisfied smile crept across Umbridge's face.
...
Soon, almost all the professors had suffered under Umbridge's interference—except Newt. Newt carried his own little world with him and had the Forbidden Forest as his backing, requiring no additional expenses for his classes.
The cushions Professor McGonagall needed, Trelawney's crystal balls, Professor Flitwick's anti-cheating paper, Snape's potion ingredients... all these perfectly normal expenditures were met with obstruction and petty behaviour from Umbridge. Either more than half the requested items were withheld, or they were outright denied.
In Transfiguration class, Hermione and Wayne shared an inkwell, taking turns practising the Vanishing Spell and the Reversal Charm.
"Does she expect us to pay for the school's expenses ourselves?"
Hermione flicked her wand, making the inkwell vanish without a trace, while Wayne tapped the desk lightly, causing it to reappear.
Their pair was fortunate—they could return objects intact. Other groups weren't so lucky.
The Vanishing Spell was one of the most advanced subjects in the OWL exams, and progress was slow for everyone. Sometimes, only half the inkwell would vanish, with the other half irretrievable. Even after using the Repairing Charm, the added magical factors made vanishing it again far more difficult. Thus, these items became consumables, dwindling in number with each lesson.
Watching Professor McGonagall's furrowed brow, Hermione felt indignant on her behalf.
"It really is excessive," Wayne mused, resting his chin on one hand. "I'll think of a way to help Professor McGonagall later."
"Good, good," Hermione nodded like a woodpecker. "You're full of cunning ideas—you'll definitely find a way to deal with her."
"Hmm?" Wayne feigned displeasure, glancing at the young witch.
Hermione stuck out her tongue playfully, unafraid, even pulling a face to taunt him. It was class time—Professor McGonagall's class, no less—so she wasn't worried about Wayne's retaliation.
"I'll deal with you tonight," Wayne whispered, pinching her cheek lightly.
Noticing Professor McGonagall's gaze, Hermione blushed and shot the boy a glare before resuming her spell practice.
After class, Wayne deliberately lingered behind.
"Mr Lawrence, is there something you need?" Professor McGonagall asked.
Wayne closed the door first before answering. "Professor, has Umbridge been giving you all a hard time lately?"
"It's just standard procedure," Professor McGonagall replied, though her expression and resentful tone spoke volumes.
"I heard from Professor Sprout that almost none of the seeds and plants she requested were approved by Umbridge, and she even received a formal written report," Wayne said leisurely. "So when Umbridge rejects your requests, does she have to provide such a report too?"
"Correct," Professor McGonagall nodded. "As I said, it's part of the necessary procedure. She has too many excuses at her disposal, and they're just plausible enough that we have no choice but to accept them."
"I see," Wayne mused.
"Mr Lawrence, do you have any suggestions?" Professor McGonagall ventured.
Umbridge's antics had worn her down. Dealing with so many inept students daily was exhausting enough without someone actively undermining her efforts.
Had it been her younger, more hot-tempered self, she would have already come to blows with Umbridge.
But the current situation was delicate. Professor McGonagall knew she couldn't cause trouble for Dumbledore, so she'd been enduring it all this time.
She had to endure, but Wayne didn't.
Professor McGonagall suddenly realised that having an unruly troublemaker who feared nothing in the school wasn't entirely a bad thing.
When dealing with bureaucrats like Umbridge, it was best to let Wayne handle it.
In an instant, her gaze towards Wayne softened considerably.
"I do have an idea," Wayne said with a light chuckle, picking up a pen holder from the table.
"Professor McGonagall, have you heard the legend of eight million warriors issuing invoices?"
McGonagall: "???"