Wayne explained his idea in detail to Professor McGonagall. The elder cat-woman's eyes grew brighter and brighter until she finally patted Wayne's shoulder with approval.
"Only you could come up with such an idea..."
"Of course," Wayne responded cheerfully before realising and giving McGonagall a reproachful look.
Was that even a compliment?
Professor McGonagall pretended not to notice Wayne's expression and continued, "This is a good plan. I'll need to discuss it with Pomona and Filius."
"And Snape," Wayne reminded her. "Professor Snape is most suited for this sort of thing."
McGonagall waved her hand dismissively. She was well aware Snape would be a good choice.
It was just that lately, Snape had been seen getting rather close to Umbridge, and she hadn't decided whether to involve him yet.
...
That evening, Wayne returned to London with Cho.
He planned to visit St Mungo's tomorrow to treat the Longbottoms, so he might as well return a day early and enjoy the comfort of home.
...
Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, Umbridge, having failed to see Wayne turn up for detention, promptly deducted two hundred points from Hufflepuff.
This was the only way she could retaliate against Wayne now.
As for anything else, she simply lacked the capability.
Just then, her office door was knocked.
"Come in!" Umbridge quickly adjusted her expression and called out in her usual sickly-sweet tone.
The door opened, and Professor McGonagall entered.
"What can I do for you?" Umbridge asked with a smile.
"This is what I need." Professor McGonagall handed over a list. The contents were sparse—just a few magazines and some snuffboxes.
Umbridge felt a surge of satisfaction, convinced this was proof her recent efforts had borne fruit.
Previously, purchases had been in the dozens or hundreds, but this time, the total wouldn't even exceed two or three Galleons.
She signed the list with a smile and returned it to McGonagall, feigning concern as she asked, "Minerva, is this enough? If not, I'd be happy to approve a few more."
"No need." Professor McGonagall didn't take offence. In fact, she even smiled.
"We'll see next time."
"Mmm." Umbridge nodded dismissively.
Little did she know just how soon McGonagall's "next time" would be... or that this marked the beginning of her nightmare.
...
On Saturday, Wayne first escorted Cho home before heading to Crouch's residence, rather than rushing to St Mungo's.
"Your place is rather bleak."
The enormous house housed only Crouch himself. The house-elf Winky usually worked at night, leaving little presence during the day.
"I'm used to it." Crouch took a sip of tea. "Any new assignments?"
"None. You're doing well enough as is." Wayne shook his head lightly.
The Anti-Corruption Department had already established itself within the Ministry of Magic. Mention of the department now made other employees pale.
Many slack employees had faced punishment—just two days prior, a member of the Memory Charm Enforcement Team had been sacked for recklessly casting Memory Charms that damaged two Muggles' brains.
The department head had tried pleading for leniency, but the iron-fisted Crouch had refused without hesitation.
Once his tea was finished, Wayne cut to the chase. "Mr Crouch, you've performed exceptionally well since you started working for me—so much so that you even sacrificed your son's life."
Crouch's mouth twitched.
After all this time together, he'd never admired Wayne's conversational skills. Every sentence stabbed right at one's weak spots.
He looked helplessly at the youth, furrowing his brows as he said solemnly, "Barty Jr's fate was his own choice. I saved him once, yet he stubbornly chose Voldemort. Death was his best outcome."
Wayne interlaced his fingers, resting them casually on his lap.
"But I can't watch such a loyal subordinate become heirless. The Crouch family shouldn't decline like this."
"My suggestion is..." The youth smiled slightly. "Have another child."
Crouch's gaze sharpened before he flatly refused, "Wayne, this is my private matter. There's no need for your concern."
"As for the Crouch bloodline... There are two branches in Northern Europe. After my death, they'll naturally send someone to inherit my estate."
"Once divided, they're no longer family."
Wayne raised an eyebrow. "If I recall correctly, I once said I'd reward you appropriately for outstanding service, didn't I?"
"Don't you want it?"
Crouch was clever—today's Wayne was unusually persistent with this idle chatter.
Reward...
Crouch desperately tried recalling Wayne's past promises.
His body suddenly jolted as he stared in disbelief. "You... you can already...?"
Wayne thoroughly enjoyed seeing him lose his composure. The sight of this perpetually expressionless, exceptionally calm man breaking character could make perfect meme material.
"Correct." The youth nodded cheerfully. "Consider this wife your wages for these years."
The ring on Wayne's hand suddenly emitted a dark glow as an ethereal figure floated out—more insubstantial than any ghost.
The spectral woman appeared around forty, emaciated and sallow.
Yet upon seeing her, Crouch burst into tears, trembling as he rushed forward.
"Lena!"
This was his late wife—the woman he'd longed for day and night!
"Barty..." A faint voice drifted from the apparition. Knowing his presence was no longer appropriate, Wayne clapped his hands and exited the room.
"I'll return in half an hour."
Leaving the parlour, Wayne went to the small terrace in the backyard, casually reclining on a rocking chair.
Crouch's wife had been his recent project.
Compared to Ariana, she'd died less than a decade ago, making resurrection considerably easier. The process had also revealed new issues.
When a soul nears the living world, an incredibly sturdy barrier appears. Piercing the divide between life and death suddenly requires several times more magical power.
Moreover, the process can't be interrupted—otherwise the soul risks damage or even disintegration.
Fortunately, Wayne had been in good form, and with his rapid magical power recovery, he prevented any mishaps.
This served as a timely reminder—when resurrecting Ariana next time, thorough preparation would be essential.
Beyond this, he had discovered an unexpected boon—all souls revived by the Resurrection Stone appeared free, yet were in fact bound to it, serving as anchors in this world.
In other words... if he wished, he could send these souls back to that endless ancient path at any time.
Even with physical bodies, it made no difference.
"Winky," Wayne called.
The house-elf appeared before him immediately, bowing respectfully. "What does Master Lawrence require of Winky?"
Wayne rubbed his stomach. "Bring me some more beef sandwiches. I wasn't quite full earlier."
Winky returned swiftly with the requested items, along with ten portions of vegetable salad and nine strips of bacon.
Before Wayne could finish eating, Crouch arrived with his wife's soul in tow.
"Has it even been half an hour yet?" the youth asked, fork poised in puzzlement.
"There will be time for talk later, but we couldn't keep you waiting."
Crouch and his wife exchanged smiles before bowing deeply to Wayne in a gesture of formal gratitude. "Mr Lawrence, thank you for your generosity in granting Lana and I this reunion."
Wayne waved dismissively. "I told you—this is your rightful reward. Hufflepuff never mistreats loyal friends."
"Just call me Wayne. We're old acquaintances—no need for such formalities."
"As you say."
Crouch's face was alight with joy, his heart swelling with contentment.
He reflected that the wisest decision of his life had been yielding to this youth's overwhelming presence years ago—without which today's marital reunion would never have come to pass.
Seeing the smiles on Crouch and Lana's faces lifted Wayne's mood considerably. The grand promises made to his employee had finally materialised.
Yet, observing the frail soul before him, certain unpleasant truths needed to be addressed first.
"Mrs Crouch."
The youth slowly set down his cutlery. "By now, you must be aware of Barty Jr's final fate?"
The joyful atmosphere froze. Mrs Crouch's smile vanished, while Crouch himself tensed visibly.
He knew all too well how doting his wife had been towards their son.
Fond mothers raise wayward children—if Barty Jr had reached this end, his own negligent father bore half the blame, while his indulgent mother deserved at least thirty per cent.
Wayne waited silently for her response.
After a lengthy pause, Mrs Crouch finally spoke.
"Mr Lawrence, I'm not an ungrateful woman. You've resurrected me and saved Barty—you're our greatest benefactor."
She inclined her head slightly. "As for Barty Jr... while his death grieves me deeply, I recognise it was his own obstinacy that led to this deserved fate."
"Please rest assured—I harbour no resentment towards you, nor would I ever hinder Barty's service to your cause."
Her words rang with sincerity, but what convinced Wayne more was the fluctuation of her soul—falsehoods might deceive the mind, but never conceal shifts within one's essence.
Wayne nodded, his trust in Mrs Crouch now complete.
"You're a wise woman."
"It's just a child. At your age, you two can still have more. I've got plenty of potions here—my father-in-law swears by them. Just have another one later, no big deal."
Crouch looked embarrassed, while Mrs Crouch gave a bitter smile.
"In my current state...?"
"That depends on Mr Crouch's performance," Wayne chuckled, patting Crouch on the shoulder.
"If the soul has returned, can the body be far behind?"
"You mean..." Crouch became excited.
Wayne nodded seriously. "Exactly. Work hard, and next year you can start having a few more kids."
With that, his figure gradually faded, disappearing before the man and the ghost. He still had to get to St. Mungo's and couldn't delay any longer.
The Crouches stood there staring at each other. Suddenly, Mrs Crouch burst out laughing.
"Barty, your new boss... has quite the personality."
Seeing his wife so happy, Crouch shook his head and smiled helplessly.
Quite distinctive indeed.
...
Meanwhile, at Hogwarts.
Umbridge was gradually noticing something amiss.
Since yesterday, nearly every professor had come to her for approval slips.
The amounts weren't large—at most a few dozen Galleons—so she'd approved them all.
But today, those professors came again, still requesting small amounts, many for the same items.
Umbridge couldn't take it anymore. She questioned Professor Flitwick standing before her: "Why didn't you mention needing these things when you came yesterday?"
Professor Flitwick remained perfectly calm, squeaking, "I didn't realise the water balloons were out of stock yesterday. Only discovered it this morning while preparing next week's lessons."
Umbridge reluctantly accepted this explanation and signed the list.
Within half an hour, Professor McGonagall arrived, and she signed again.
Then came Snape, Sprout, Sinistra...
Finally, when Professor McGonagall came twice in one day, she snapped.
"Minerva, are you making fun of me? Think I've got nothing better to do all day?"
"How is what you're asking for different from this morning's request?"
"What are you talking about, Dolores?" Professor McGonagall looked utterly astonished. "Isn't this your job?"
"I just miscalculated the quantities. No need for such a temper."
'Trying to wear me down with this method?'
A sudden realisation dawned on Umbridge. Convinced she'd seen through the professors' scheme, she coldly pushed the list away.
"Sorry, I can't approve what you're requesting."
Professor McGonagall shrugged indifferently. "At least give me a reason?"
"I'll note it in my report. You may leave." Umbridge smiled falsely as she saw her out.
That evening, she sent the report to McGonagall by owl.
On Sunday, Umbridge didn't stay at Hogwarts but returned to the Ministry of Magic, enjoying a rare day of leisure.
But when she returned to school on Monday, just about to enjoy her morning tea, dozens of owls came swooping through her window...