A certain dual-wielding individual once said, All men must die, but some require a little assistance.
Clearly, Voldemort's actions were sending Wayne a plea for help.
Help me, I want to die!
"Lestrange, Carrow, Rowle..."
Murmuring these pure-blood family names softly, Wayne tried hard to recall whether these families had any members beyond those who had joined the Death Eaters.
If they were going down, they should go down together—no loose ends left behind.
In the books, the pure-blood families had only a few members cycling through the narrative.
In reality, families like the Rowles and Carrows did have other members.
However, there were no descendants of theirs still attending Hogwarts; otherwise, Wayne would have found it rather troublesome.
Gazing at the sleeping Astoria, Wayne gently tucked her in, quietly left the room, and returned to his own home.
Early the next morning, he went to see Crouch.
"How many people can you deploy?" Wayne got straight to the point.
"What kind?"
"Those who can kill—kill Death Eaters."
Crouch felt a chill, as if he could already see mountains of corpses and seas of blood, but he still replied, "If it's Death Eaters, many veteran Aurors hold deep grudges against them. There are also the enforcers from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—none would disobey your orders."
"Altogether... about fifty people."
"That's enough." Wayne nodded slightly. "Go back and prepare. I'll have Nagini deliver a batch of specially made equipment to ensure their safety."
"Are you making your move?" Crouch asked quietly.
Wayne picked up his teacup and took a sip. "Hmm, you know about the Greengrass family situation, right?"
A flicker of understanding crossed Crouch's eyes.
Of course.
When he'd heard about it, he knew it wasn't the end—it was the beginning.
He just hadn't expected Wayne to be so radical, ready to flip the table entirely.
"But legally..." Crouch said with some difficulty, "Currently, Aurors aren't even permitted to use Unforgivable Curses, let alone kill."
"In a few days, I'll convene a Wizengamot meeting to amend the Auror Management Act." Wayne had long been prepared for this. "With Dark Wizards being so vicious nowadays, it's understandable for Aurors to use extreme measures in retaliation. Let's grant them three... no, five killing permits per year."
"As long as the crimes meet certain criteria, they can use any means necessary during capture."
"I understand." Crouch's concerns vanished completely.
"Identify the locations of these family members and aim for a swift resolution." Wayne handed him a parchment filled with the names of those Death Eater families. "More information will follow. I'll first consult my inside sources for details—you make the preparations."
"Yes."
"The day these people die is the day Mrs Crouch regains her body." After speaking, Wayne's figure gradually faded away.
Crouch's eyes turned bloodshot, his breathing heavy.
Now, when he looked at the names on the list, they were no longer mere letters—they were the flesh and blood of his wife!
After leaving Crouch's home, Wayne found Hermione waiting for him in Diagon Alley, and together they went to Nicolas Flamel's estate.
Seeing Wayne, Nicolas and Perenelle were delighted, though Perenelle still chided him:
"Little Wayne, it's been so long since you last visited."
"Grandmother Perenelle, I've just been so busy - I've got the entire Hogwarts staff and student body of a thousand people on my shoulders."
Both elderly people were amused by him, not just because of Wayne's humorous remark, but because he had become the Headmaster.
When Nicolas saw the newspaper report at the time, he nearly laughed himself breathless.
He had even used special means to contact Dumbledore, wanting to hear how the person involved felt about it, only to be driven away by a furious Dumbledore.
"Albus should have returned by now?" Nicolas asked.
"Yes, he came back quietly. Not many people know about it," Wayne said, while Hermione, beside him, showed a surprised expression. She had been travelling abroad with her parents and only returned yesterday, unaware of what had happened during Christmas.
"Suddenly, I feel rather sorry for him," Nicolas sighed. "He spent most of his life at Hogwarts, and now he doesn't even know where to go."
"I'll help him find a better new job," Wayne said with a smile.
After they finished lunch, Hermione stayed to chat with Perenelle while Wayne went to the laboratory with Nicolas.
Once inside, Nicolas immediately said, "Making a special trip before term starts - there must be something you need me to do. Go on, what are you planning to tinker with now?"
"As expected, I can't hide anything from you." Wayne showed no embarrassment at being seen through, instead grinning as he pulled out stack after stack of books - over twenty volumes in total.
Moreover, the books bore no titles, only the simplest serial numbers from one to twenty-five.
"What's this?" Nicolas picked up the book numbered one with some confusion.
"You'll understand with a quick look," Wayne indicated. Nicolas opened the book and began reading.
As time passed, Nicolas's expression shifted from initial curiosity to surprise, and finally to shock and disbelief, until he became completely immersed in the book's world, unable to extricate himself.
Wayne didn't disturb him, conjuring a recliner to take the opportunity for an afternoon nap.
This nap lasted until evening.
Dinner was ready, but the two still hadn't appeared. Perenelle brought Hermione to the laboratory, where they found one sound asleep and the other completely absorbed in reading, neither noticing their arrival.
"Hmm? Finished reading?" Wayne, gently shaken awake by the young witch, was still somewhat groggy.
"How could I possibly finish..." Nicolas was also pulled from the book by Perenelle, carefully putting the book away before following everyone out.
That evening, Wayne and Hermione had originally planned to return, but were firmly kept back by the old man.
"Which ancient ruins did you find these materials in?"
"No, that's not right," Nicolas said, then corrected himself. "This magic system is completely different from ours - even ancient magic differs greatly."
"I have connections in other worlds, too," Wayne said, which sounded like a joke but wasn't.
Nicolas didn't take it seriously. Everyone has their secrets - if Wayne didn't want to talk about it, he wouldn't pry. His earlier question was simply an act born of unbearable curiosity.
"So... you want to build a floating city?"
"Exactly."
"But the core mentioned here is completely beyond our understanding. As you said, it belongs to another world."
"I've already obtained it." Wayne invited Nicolas into his suitcase world. After crossing the mountains and arriving at the peak where Mia once resided, a jade-green sphere dozens of metres in diameter floated quietly.
Nicolas Flamel's eyes lit up, nearly lunging forward to study it, but Wayne's quick reflexes swiftly restrained him.
"Old master, this is my only core. If anything goes wrong during your research, the floating city will be gone."
"Really just this one?" Nicolas asked persistently, knowing Wayne had a habit of holding back.
"Truly just one." Wayne said helplessly, "I promise, if I can find another Mythallar core, or learn how to create one, I'll tell you immediately."
Only then did Nicolas reluctantly give up.
If the Mythallar core used traditional alchemical methods, even if damaged, he was confident he could repair it—this was the absolute confidence of the world's foremost alchemist.
But in his current state of only partial understanding, he truly didn't dare to act recklessly.
"So how far have you progressed?" Nicolas asked again.
Wayne smiled, "I've collected about one percent of the materials. I've just organised these books and haven't even finished reading them myself."
Nicolas: "..."
He suddenly felt like he'd boarded a pirate ship.
Was this supposed to be collaborative research?
This was practically looking for forced labour! And labour that had to pay for the privilege!
Yet faced with the opportunity to personally build a floating city and deeply understand another magical system, Nicolas found himself unable to refuse.
"You've got me figured out, haven't you, boy?"
Nicolas Flamel angrily patted the young man's back. Wayne didn't speak, maintaining his smile.
The Lawrence family had always preferred win-win situations. With Nicolas's help, he could avoid much trouble and greatly accelerate construction, while Nicolas himself could potentially advance further.
The magic system of the Netheril Empire was completely different from this world's, meaning so-called magical aptitude would no longer be a limitation. Perhaps in the future, Nicolas could become a great arcanist.
Or even an archmage.
The two returned to the laboratory and began planning the construction process.
For a city, the most important element was its foundation.
The Mythallar core could make the city float, but such tremendous power required a sturdy foundation to prevent the city from disintegrating.
Wayne brought out everything he'd acquired from Japan, making Nicolas's eyelids twitch violently.
He almost instantly guessed that those volcanic eruptions were definitely connected to someone.
However, Nicolas wouldn't interfere in others' affairs. His mind was completely occupied with the floating city. Having lived over six hundred years, he wouldn't be affected by the lives of strangers.
...
The next evening, students returned to school aboard the Hogwarts Express, and the quiet castle suddenly became lively again.
The Great Hall was packed as young wizards shared their holiday experiences, exchanged information, and discussed how to most efficiently complete their homework later. One topic particularly piqued everyone's curiosity - since Mrs Weasley had left the school, who would their Defence Against the Dark Arts professor be?
At the High Table, Hagrid had disappeared once again. Besides his seat, there was another empty chair.
Wayne was whispering something to Professor McGonagall, whose expression was rather peculiar. Yet under Wayne's incessant chatter, she reluctantly nodded.
A lavish feast suddenly appeared on the tables.
With a new ruler comes new courtiers. Previously, Hogwarts' food had mostly been sweet, influenced by Dumbledore's preferences. But now the Headmaster was Wayne, and the house-elves were well aware of his tastes.
Thus, there were more meat dishes today. The pumpkin soup had vanished, replaced by creamy mushroom soup and refreshing seaweed soup.
The desserts after the meal weren't as sweet as they used to be, better suiting everyone's palate.
Seeing that the time was about right, Wayne clapped his hands. The leftover scraps on the plates disappeared, and the students quickly quieted down, awaiting his speech.
Yet it was Professor McGonagall who stood up.
"Ahem!"
Professor McGonagall raised a fist to her mouth, pretending to clear her throat.
"Students, under Headmaster Lawrence's wise leadership, we achieved outstanding results last term. The teaching outcomes are most gratifying."
"Now, I shall announce the rewards for our exceptional students."
"The top ten students from each year may visit Professor Lawrence tomorrow to watch his battle with Grindelwald. I believe this will be of great help to you."
A moderate cheer erupted in the Great Hall, with only those who qualified feeling delighted, while the others were disgruntled.
After speaking, Professor McGonagall quickly sat down, her face as red as a monkey's bottom.
Praising the Headmaster like this was a first for her.
Most crucially, it had been the Headmaster's own request.
She wished she could crawl into a hole and hide.
Wayne stood up as if nothing had happened, smiling and waving until the cheers and applause died down. Then his voice reached everyone's ears.
"I'm delighted that everyone has made significant progress, but it's not enough."
"To that end, I've also prepared a special gift for those students with substantial room for improvement."
The faces of those with less ideal results, ranking in the bottom ten, turned deathly pale.
A gift?
Could they refuse?
However, a gift from the Headmaster was something students couldn't refuse.
Wayne smiled and produced a Virtual Brain Machine: "I shall grant them one week's usage rights to the virtual helmet!"