Neville and Ron were asked to leave the hospital wing, leaving only Harry and Dumbledore inside.
The old man's gaze lingered on Harry's scar for a few extra seconds before he asked with certainty, "You dreamed of Voldemort again, didn't you?"
Harry nodded. "Yes, Professor. In my dream, I became him. It was like..."
"No need to rush, Harry. We have plenty of time. You can take it slowly." Dumbledore interrupted, producing a large bar of chocolate. "Have some first. I heard you went straight to detention without eating dinner."
Harry was indeed hungry. His initial agitation subsided somewhat upon seeing Dumbledore's composed expression.
After slowly finishing the chocolate, Harry felt warmth spreading through his stomach before continuing.
"I... Voldemort was in a cave. He released the Basilisk and actually made it bite his own neck..."
"A cave..." Dumbledore crossed his arms, staring slightly past Harry's eyes. "How did you feel at that moment?"
"I felt terrible pain, like my whole body was burning." Harry held his breath, recalling that bizarre state. "The venom seeped into my body, but Voldemort seemed delighted. I couldn't endure it and passed out."
Dumbledore nodded gently, first gesturing for Harry to lie down. After a moment's contemplation, he said:
"Thank you, Harry. This is extremely valuable information. Voldemort must be injured. Using Basilisk venom for healing involves a very ancient form of Dark Magic."
"Was it you?" Harry asked excitedly. "Did you find him?"
"Certainly not." Dumbledore chuckled. "This old man doesn't possess such capabilities."
"But you're the only one he fears."
"No, Harry. He doesn't fear me. He simply treats me with caution. If we're speaking of fear..." Dumbledore stroked his beard with amusement. "I believe he might be more afraid of Mr Lawrence. This injury was likely Mr Lawrence's handiwork."
"Wayne?"
Harry was stunned.
"Indeed. Mr Lawrence has made many unsung contributions in his... playful resistance against Voldemort."
Dumbledore stood up. "Rest well, Harry. Remember to take Madam Pomfrey's potion. Please don't share this with anyone else. I'll handle matters appropriately."
"I understand, Professor."
After Dumbledore left, Harry drank the potion and soon felt his consciousness grow hazy before falling asleep.
...
In the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore had Fawkes summon Wayne.
"That's the situation. The cave Harry mentioned... was it the one you visited with Sirius?"
Wayne nodded lightly. "Yes, judging by Harry's description, it's definitely the same place."
Then he grinned. "Seems Voldemort drank the potion himself. I added some extra ingredients to ensure he'd be... comfortable for a while."
Most importantly, there was the Dungbomb. Wayne dearly wanted to ask Voldemort about his user experience to facilitate future improvements.
Unfortunately, that opportunity wouldn't arise anytime soon.
Dumbledore, however, wasn't as optimistic as Wayne and instead looked deeply troubled. "Voldemort has discovered we're searching for his Horcruxes. The remaining ones will be far more difficult to handle."
"Professor, it's not as dreadful as you think," Wayne reassured him. "Counting Tom, he's already lost four Horcruxes. These things aren't like Irish potatoes—they don't just sprout up in endless batches."
The old Headmaster was momentarily diverted by Wayne's peculiar analogy. "Mr Lawrence, if Voldemort knew you compared his Horcruxes to potatoes, he'd be absolutely livid."
"The angrier he gets, the better. Ideally, he'd storm Hogwarts directly." Wayne extended his arm, letting Fawkes perch on his shoulder. "Then Fawkes could burn him to a crisp with one fiery swoop."
"Chirp!" Fawkes lifted his head proudly.
Dumbledore smiled at the pair for a long moment before realising something was amiss.
That was his bird!
With a sigh, Dumbledore said earnestly, "Wayne, the Horcrux issue is indeed thorny, but I believe with enough patience, we'll eventually find Voldemort's weakness."
"But just now, I noticed something unusual."
Dumbledore's expression grew complicated. "Harry didn't even realise it himself, but when he looked at me earlier, his pupils turned vertical, and there was a chilling, murderous intent in his gaze."
"If Harry can slip into Voldemort's perspective... could there come a day when Voldemort might take over Harry's body?"
"You've been tutoring him lately—how's the progress?"
"Not bad," Wayne understood his concern. "You want me to teach him Occlumency?"
"Precisely. Originally, I considered Severus, but given their relationship..." Dumbledore gave an apologetic smile.
Asking Harry to learn Occlumency properly under Snape was about as feasible as asking the Weasley twins to go a whole term without losing house points.
This was truly a last resort.
"Teaching's teaching—I've no objections. But we should hear Harry's opinion too."
Wayne had professional ethics. Harry was paying, so what he learned was ultimately his choice—within the bounds of what he'd paid for, of course.
Dumbledore understood this and didn't press further, simply nodding. "I'll reduce my interactions with Harry for now, to make Voldemort think I'm not prioritising him."
"If Harry uncovers anything else, do let me know."
Wayne held up a finger. "A hundred points per tip. No bargaining."
After Umbridge docked those two hundred points, Hufflepuff's house tally was scraping the bottom again.
Naturally, Young Master Lawrence, ever devoted to his house, had to recoup the losses—otherwise, how could he keep provoking her?
Dumbledore was speechless, though by now, he was used to it.
Getting Wayne to do anything without offering something in return was impossible, and house points were the cheapest currency available.
In the past, he'd never have entertained such blatant corruption.
But after years of exposure to a certain someone, his standards had quietly eroded... and he felt surprisingly little guilt about it.
...
As if nothing had happened, the days passed uneventfully.
After that day, Harry neither saw Dumbledore again nor served another detention.
During Monday's Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, Umbridge acted as if that night's incident had never happened. She didn't mention the detention again, but found various excuses to deduct fifty points from Harry.
This made Wayne extremely envious.
"Why won't she pay attention to me?" Hugging the wealthy young girl, Wayne complained indignantly as if he'd suffered some great injustice.
Cho, who was reading 'The Complete Guide to Quidditch Tactics' nearby, looked at her boyfriend with an expression reserved for idiots.
"Isn't it good that you're not losing points? Do you really want her to keep targeting you? How disgusting."
"You don't understand," Wayne shook his head. "The feeling of losing points and then gaining them back is wonderful."
Since the term began, Umbridge had nearly contributed ten thousand points for him.
Just helping Harry reflect the curse from the quill had earned him three thousand points, plus an achievement for physically punishing a professor.
Fifty points wasn't much, but every little helps.
Yet in class, Umbridge seemed blind to Wayne's existence. Even when forced to bow after each lesson, she endured it.
This wasn't just being a toad.
This was turtle-level patience!
"I really don't understand," Cho shrugged. "Since coming to Hogwarts, I've never lost house points."
In an instant, Wayne and the wealthy young girl both looked at Cho with pity, speaking in unison: "Then your school life is incomplete."
Cho was torn between laughter and exasperation at their synchronised response. "Astoria, have you really had points deducted, too?"
In her memory, Astoria had always been well-behaved and adorable.
The professors adored her, and being in Slytherin meant Snape wouldn't target her. Who would deduct her points?
Astoria shyly snuggled deeper into Wayne's embrace. "Well... I fell asleep in Professor McGonagall's class and she deducted points."
Wayne's gaze shifted towards the wealthy young girl instantly.
A true warrior.
Daring to sleep in Professor McGonagall's class—even he hadn't attempted such a feat.
Sensing Wayne's strange look, the girl quickly explained: "That was in my first year, before my blood curse was lifted. I needed more sleep then."
Wayne affectionately patted her little head, and she giggled, planting a loud kiss on his cheek.
Watching the couple's public display of affection, Cho could only sigh in resignation.
Thankfully, Astoria was kind-hearted. Given her obedience to Wayne, no one could compete otherwise.
The three quietly enjoyed this rare leisurely afternoon, while Hermione—the know-it-all—remained hopelessly immersed in her sea of revision questions.
...
Meanwhile.
Several Ministry of Magic officials arrived at the school, heading straight for the Headmaster's Office to meet Dumbledore.
"Barty, what's this about?"
Looking at the expressionless Crouch and the three employees behind him, Dumbledore seemed puzzled.
"Dumbledore."
Crouch nodded at him, all business, placing a notice on the desk.
"The Anti-Corruption Department has received reports that Dolores Umbridge, Head of the Department of Education, is suspected of embezzlement and misusing public funds. I need to conduct an investigation and require your cooperation."
"Cooperation? What kind of cooperation?"
Dumbledore's expression turned peculiar, never imagining Wayne would play such a decisive move. Judging by Crouch's manner, he intended to take Umbridge away publicly at that moment. Even if her backside were clean, this would inevitably stir up plenty of gossip.
"I need this year's Hogwarts expenditure records and the funding shortfalls for each subject."
"The investigation won't take too long, but it won't be completed in just a day or two either. You'll need to find a temporary substitute teacher."
"I'll consider it."
"Then take me to Umbridge." Crouch wasted no words, striding out first.
He'd informed Dumbledore only because Hogwarts was Dumbledore's territory, not to seek approval.
Crouch understood his mission. Fudge and Wayne had already decided Umbridge's fate. Now his task was to smear her reputation...
But not to destroy her completely.
Fundamentally, he and Umbridge weren't so different—both were tools in others' hands.
The difference was, he'd backed the right master while Umbridge had chosen poorly.
Exiting the Headmaster's Office, the group headed straight for the fourth floor. Many young wizards spotted them along the way, following curiously at a distance.
But when they reached Umbridge's office door, Dumbledore's knock went unanswered for a long while.
"She's not here."
"We must take her today." Crouch checked his watch, then glanced at the students lurking around the corridor corner. "Excuse me, has anyone seen Umbridge? Do you know where she is?"
A second-year boy called out, "I saw her! Professor Umbridge went to find Madam Hooch."
"Then let's go." Dumbledore gave a slight nod. "Rolanda should be conducting Flying Class."
The group descended further. Before even leaving the castle, they saw Madam Hooch rushing upstairs in panic. Spotting Dumbledore, her face lit with relief.
"Albus, thank Merlin you're here! Come quickly, we need to save someone!"
"What happened?" Dumbledore's eyes instantly sharpened.
Crouch wisely chose silence.
"The giant squid's gone berserk—it's dragged Umbridge into the Black Lake!"
...
Inside the suitcase pocket dimension.
Wayne, who'd been napping while cuddling the wealthy little lolita, suddenly heard a prompt in his mind.
Ding!
[Congratulations, host, on completing the achievement: The Art of Bondage—'The Tentacle Monster and Umbridge'. Reward: 5000 points, Critical Hit Gift Package x1.]