The new week quickly showed Dumbledore exactly how Wayne was intensifying the conflict between him and Fudge.
For several consecutive days, several highly respected wizards in the magical community had spoken out, criticising the Ministry of Magic's actions and highlighting numerous recurring shortcomings.
They particularly emphasised criticism of Umbridge's theoretical education, accusing her of trying to turn students into useless bookworms who would merely recite texts when encountering Dark Wizards, hoping to make them see the error of their ways.
If it were just these criticisms, it might not seem directly connected to Dumbledore.
But what left the old wizard speechless was that these individuals consistently concluded their remarks with a footnote: "Dumbledore shares this view. We've discussed it many times, and he's deeply dissatisfied with this situation."
Merlin's beard, he hadn't had any contact with these old fellows for two or three years.
This wasn't even the most damaging part. More crucially, through these individuals' accounts, numerous suggestions for Ministry reform, allegedly from Dumbledore, had begun circulating.
When he saw the newspaper, Dumbledore felt momentarily disoriented.
If it weren't about himself, he would have genuinely believed Dumbledore was campaigning for Minister for Magic.
He estimated Fudge no longer just wanted him removed - the man probably wanted him dead!
...
In the suitcase pocket dimension, Wayne held the communication book, grinning at the golden-haired girl opposite:
"Cassandra, you've grown even more beautiful after these months apart."
"Unsolicited flattery always has ulterior motives..." On the page, the haughty golden-haired girl crossed her arms, attempting to emphasise her modest curves.
"What brings the busy man to contact me today? I'd almost forgotten I even knew someone like you."
Even through the page, Wayne could feel the girl's overwhelming resentment, his smile becoming somewhat awkward.
Watching the silent boy, Cassandra wished she could leap through the page to Hogwarts and punch that handsome face.
Forget Wayne?
She cursed him eight times a day!
Since returning to North America, things were fine during the summer holidays when they could chat several times weekly.
But once the term started, Wayne had vanished completely as if evaporated from the earth.
Now it was mid-November, and this was their first contact this academic year.
Cassandra knew nothing could have happened to someone of Wayne's capability. He was just spending time with Sakura, with Tomoyo, with Fleur, and...
Damn, the more she thought about it, the angrier she became!
Wayne watched curiously as Cassandra remained silent for a long while, performing facial acrobatics by herself, before finally asking: "Cassandra, are you alright?"
He hoped he hadn't actually driven her mad...
At the sound of Wayne's voice, Cassandra snapped back to reality, her expressive face returning to neutrality. "Just say what you want. I'm busy here."
"Nothing much..." Wayne smiled sheepishly: "Just wanted to ask for a small favour..."
After Wayne finished speaking, Cassandra's expression turned peculiar: "Professor Dumbledore is running for Minister for Magic?"
"You could say that." Wayne thought for a moment without contradicting her.
Passive campaigning was still campaigning, wasn't it?
"With his reputation, he shouldn't need such extensive promotion, should he?" Cassandra asked curiously.
Wayne had just asked her to use North American media to build momentum for Dumbledore.
Achieving this was quite simple for the Worley family. She just couldn't understand - if it were on their side, Dumbledore could ascend immediately just by expressing his desire to become President.
Why was it so complicated in Britain?
"The situation is complex. After all, we're in Great Britain - rules abound." Wayne blinked. "Cass, you'll help me, won't you?"
The tsundere Cassandra initially wanted to refuse, but...
He called her Cass!
As if bewitched, Cassandra found herself nodding lightly without thinking. "Of course..."
Only after speaking did she regain her clarity.
Damn it, she'd fallen for his scheme.
This guy was too wicked - he could bewitch her even through the screen. Was he using some new type of love potion?
Wayne showed a happy smile. Having achieved his goal, he didn't just leave immediately but chatted with Cassandra for a while longer.
Naturally, their conversation turned to the missing snakewood tree.
This had become an unsolved mystery that had caused quite a stir in the North American wizarding community. Originally, Wayne had intended to drop some hints to redirect their attention towards Russia.
But when he heard that several Scourer organisations had come forward claiming responsibility, he was left speechless.
Forget it, let North America deal with their own affairs and not cause trouble elsewhere.
...
Soon, the Wizarding Weekly republished the reports from North America.
The articles described the British wizarding community as an ungrateful child—it was precisely because of Dumbledore's existence that the British wizarding world held such significant global status.
Yet in the end, they had stripped Dumbledore of all his honours.
After reading it, Wayne felt the words were like sharp daggers, stabbing straight into Fudge's heart.
The impact of this article was substantial. Within the school, people's respect for Dumbledore suddenly increased by another level. Although the Headmaster didn't appear often, whenever students encountered him, they looked at him with admiring eyes.
Then old Dumbledore would look at Wayne with resentful eyes.
If this continued, the entire wizarding world would think he was making a bid for the Minister's position!
The other panicked person was Umbridge.
She believed this was Dumbledore's signal to launch an offensive—he had even contacted foreign forces. And with Hagrid's disappearance—reportedly currently in France—he was probably contacting the French Ministry of Magic.
Finally, on Friday afternoon, a letter arrived at her office. Umbridge felt reassured and strode confidently towards the tower.
Soon, students finished their classes one after another, happily welcoming the weekend and the upcoming open day.
As they approached the first floor, they heard noisy voices from the entrance hall.
Curious, everyone descended the stairs to see what was happening.
Professor Trelawney stood in the middle of the entrance hall, holding a wand in one hand and an empty wine bottle in the other, looking completely mad.
"No!" she screamed. "This cannot happen! I refuse to accept it!"
"You didn't see this coming?" Umbridge simpered, mocking in a sickly sweet voice. "You can't even predict tomorrow's weather. I've given you numerous suggestions, but you remain unrepentant, even making malicious predictions about me out of thin air."
"Trelawney, from any perspective, you are no longer qualified to serve as a professor."
Professor McGonagall happened to be passing by, her expression stern and silent.
Although she deeply disliked the charlatan-like Trelawney, she couldn't help feeling a sense of shared sorrow.
"You can't dismiss me!" Trelawney shrieked, tears streaming down her face. "I've been here sixteen years! Hogwarts is my home!"
"It was your home," said Umbridge, a toad-like smile spreading across her face. "The Minister for Magic signed your dismissal order an hour ago. Now, please leave and don't embarrass me."
As Trelawney sobbed, Professor McGonagall stepped forward to comfort her, while many female students had begun crying.
"Sybill, calm yourself. Things aren't as dreadful as you think. You won't be leaving Hogwarts, I assure you."
"Oh, really, Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge seized upon this. "And who authorised that?"
"I did," said a deep voice.
The oak doors swung open, and Dumbledore strode in. The gathered students quickly made way for him. The Headmaster's face was full of authority, making Umbridge instinctively retreat two steps.
"Dumbledore, I have the Ministry's..."
"I know," Dumbledore didn't even glance at her, instead walking over to Trelawney. He bent down to comfort her briefly before stating, "The Ministry may have dismissed my professor, but she may remain here. That is my right as Headmaster."
"Remain here? When the new Divination professor arrives, she'll still have to vacate her space," Umbridge's voice carried through the Great Hall.
"That won't be a problem," Dumbledore smiled slightly. "I've found a professor willing to temporarily take over. He doesn't care for the tower's view - the ground floor should suit him perfectly."
Umbridge's face changed. "You've found a new professor? Dumbledore, don't forget, according to the Educational Decree—"
"The decree only takes effect when the Headmaster cannot find a suitable professor. Unfortunately for you, my new professor has already arrived."
Cutting off Umbridge, Dumbledore looked toward the entrance. Through the thick mist came the sound of hoofbeats - a Centaur walked in, leaving everyone gaping in astonishment.
"This is Firenze," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Centaurs possess exceptional talent in astrological divination. I'm certain he'll be excellent in this role."
In the end, Trelawney remained, still living in her small tower.
Firenze chose a ground-floor room for his new classroom - after all, asking a Centaur to climb stairs would be rather difficult.
Wayne thought Trelawney had won big - no teaching duties, still able to drink all day, and once Umbridge left, her back pay would be restored to her.
It was practically the ideal lifestyle for any worker.
As for Firenze...
Dumbledore hadn't invited him; rather, Wayne had acted as the negotiator, having struck a deal with the Centaur tribe.
Students returning to the Great Hall after watching the spectacle were all discussing him.
Many girls focused on Firenze's handsome features—apart from his four legs, the Centaur's appearance was quite appealing by human standards, being tall and handsome.
...
The next day, Saturday.
Another Hogsmeade weekend.
Harry had scheduled the meeting for ten o'clock. Crossing a small path, he arrived at the Hog's Head entrance. Looking at the shabby wooden door, he suddenly regretted choosing this location.
This shabby-looking place... seemed like a shady establishment.
But the decision was made, and Harry could only brace himself and enter.
There was only an old man inside, cleaning the bar counter.
Harry was startled upon seeing him, initially mistaking him for Dumbledore, but breathed a sigh of relief after a closer look.
He merely bore some resemblance—it wasn't the Headmaster.
Both had white hair and white beards, so a momentary mix-up was understandable.
"The menu's on the blackboard," a deep voice came. The old man didn't look up, still busy with his tasks.
"I'm waiting for someone first, thank you," Harry replied cautiously. Seeing the old man pay him no further attention, he found himself a seat.
Soon, the students he had invited began trickling in.
The small pub quickly filled up with students, most of them from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, along with a dozen or so Ravenclaw girls and three boys.
Witnessing this scene, Aberforth was bewildered.
Had these young wizards come here to throw a party?
The door swung open once more, and this time, he recognised the newcomer. Hermione nodded politely at Aberforth and took a seat beside Lavender Brown and the Patil sisters.
"Alright, let's begin."
Speaking to such a large crowd still made Harry nervous.
"Isn't Lawrence coming?" a Ravenclaw girl asked disappointedly.
Hermione shot a glance at the little witch who had her eyes on her man. "Wayne will come for the first lesson. He has more important matters right now."
Yes, very important—Wayne was currently accompanying a wealthy little girl, riding a giant squid through the Black Lake.
Hermione gave Harry a look, urging him to continue.
Harry stood up and cleared his throat. "First, a hundred Butterbeers!"
"Wooh! Thanks, Potter!"
"Cheers, Harry!"
The crowd erupted in cheers. Aberforth glared at Harry, about to lose his temper, but upon spotting Hermione, he calmed down again, merely snorting 'wait for it' before going to prepare the drinks.
While he was busy with the beverages, Harry explained his idea—a fully mutual aid organisation where he would freely share his knowledge of Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Harry emphasised that all of this was knowledge passed down to him by Wayne, as well as by a respected wizard named Mr G.
Macmillan raised a question—he had never heard of that name.
"He's the tutor Wayne hired for me. The two are like friends. He taught all the magic I used during the underwater tournament last year."
Wayne's name was a stamp of credibility, and all doubts vanished instantly.
As for Harry's proposal, none of those present had any reason to refuse, and it was smoothly passed with unanimous approval.
No one noticed that outside the Hog's Head, Zacharias Smith was secretly observing the proceedings through a crack in the wooden boards.