There are only three people in this world who dare to shout at Dumbledore.
The first is his brother, Aberforth Dumbledore, the owner of the Hog's Head.
The second is Harry, the Boy Who Lived, who fears nothing and would curse anyone if pushed.
The last is Snape.
His relationship with Dumbledore is rather peculiar.
Normally, Snape obeys Dumbledore, has joined the Order of the Phoenix, and is even the old man's most trusted ally.
Yet he is not exactly Dumbledore's subordinate. The two are merely collaborators.
They are the two people in this world who most wish for Voldemort's death and are willing to pay with their lives for it.
A solid bond of shared interests, coupled with his identity as the Potions Master, means Snape isn't truly afraid of Dumbledore.
Watching Snape, who looked ready to explode at any moment, Wayne wanted to stay and enjoy the show.
Ideally, Snape would overstep his bounds, and the two would come to blows. But the looks in their eyes conveyed the same message: 'Kindly make yourself scarce.'
With a resigned shrug, Wayne stepped out of the Headmaster's Office. Just before leaving, Dumbledore tossed him a consolation.
"Oh, Lawrence, you've had a long night. Take tomorrow off. If you need anything, go see Madam Pomfrey."
"Thanks, Headmaster." Wayne waved without turning back.
Once certain Wayne was truly gone, Snape fixed Dumbledore with a piercing glare. "You said before... Quirrell wasn't a threat."
"Clearly, I was wrong, Severus." Dumbledore calmly returned Fawkes to his perch.
"I am not omniscient. It's impossible for me to know everything."
"This was a stark warning. I simply never imagined Quirrell would make such a sacrifice—nor that Tom would be so bold."
Snape shuddered, staring at the old man in disbelief.
Dumbledore settled back into his chair and mused, "No one can deny that Tom has reached unprecedented heights in Dark Magic. He has mastered—even invented—spells even I know nothing of."
"Bizarre... yet effective."
Another brief silence followed.
Snape couldn't resist asking, "What exactly did Lawrence encounter? Quirrell... or him?"
Dumbledore gestured to the Pensieve beside him. "See for yourself. Lawrence left everything in there."
After a moment's hesitation, Snape approached the Pensieve and submerged his head.
Dumbledore waited patiently, utterly still.
Time crawled by.
Snape remained in that position, his body twitching occasionally, looking faintly ridiculous.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he jerked his head up.
Unlike Dumbledore's subdued gravity after viewing the memories, Snape's face was etched with horror.
A mere fifteen-minute battle—yet he had watched it twice. There was simply too much in there to unsettle him.
It took him a while to regain his composure. "It was really him?"
"Yes." Dumbledore gave a slight nod.
"Quirrell has lost his mind." Snape's scalp prickled.
Recalling how he had recently intimidated Quirrell, he felt both a belated fear and a strange pride.
'I dared to threaten the Dark Lord?'
Dumbledore, too, was contemplative. He hadn't been entirely blind to the possibility of Voldemort possessing Quirrell—he simply hadn't wanted to believe it. Could Quirrell truly be that foolish?
It was understandable to be bewitched by the Dark Lord, for Tom indeed possessed such power, but to be possessed by a ghost...
Any sane person knew the consequences.
Quirrell was offering his life, magical power, and even his soul to sustain Voldemort. Especially after the recent battle, it wouldn't be long before Quirrell was utterly consumed and embraced death, without needing to lift another finger.
Snape, who had been silently digesting the facts, suddenly looked up. "Was Lawrence's spell really a Patronus?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Without a doubt. Such potent, positive energy could only be achieved by a Patronus."
"But..."
Snape wanted to ask whose Patronus could have such monstrous combat prowess. In the end, he only muttered, "Little monster."
"Severus, we should rejoice in our student's accomplishments," Dumbledore said with a smile. "There are always those favoured by magic itself—like Andros of old, Merlin, or even you in the modern age. When it comes to potions, you, too, are a figure others look up to."
The words only deepened Snape's gloom. Too painful!
He hadn't told anyone that Wayne had already drained him of all his knowledge in potions. With just a bit more experience, Wayne could easily catch up—even surpass him. It was too humiliating to admit.
He recalled their duel last term. Even then, Wayne's combat abilities had been astonishing.
But compared to what he'd just witnessed... He really ought to be grateful for Wayne's mercy.
"Keep an eye on Harry," Dumbledore said. "I'll personally watch Quirrell—if he even returns unharmed."
Snape left without another word.
...
The next morning, in the Gryffindor dormitory.
When Neville, Seamus, and Dean Thomas woke up, they found Harry and Ron's beds still empty.
The situation was the same in Slytherin.
After a frantic search, they finally got word from their Heads of House—all three were in the hospital wing.
Chaos erupted.
A simple detention, yet they'd ended up in the hospital wing? What on earth had happened last night?
The young witches and wizards were burning with curiosity, but with classes in the morning, they'd have to wait until lunch to visit.
Meanwhile, the Hufflepuff badgers noticed Wayne's absence. Toby mentioned seeing a note from him, but hadn't spotted him all morning.
No one noticed that Cho and Hermione also wore stern expressions, clearly in low spirits throughout the morning.
After two classes, many skipped lunch entirely and rushed to the hospital wing.
Unfortunately, they'd forgotten this was Madam Pomfrey's domain.
One woman barred the way against a horde. A single glare from Madam Pomfrey sent them all retreating.
"Only three from each house may enter," she declared.
The three patients were physically fine but had suffered significant psychological shock. Company might aid their recovery, but noise was strictly forbidden.
After some discussion, Gryffindor sent the Weasley twins and Neville, Ron's brothers and Harry's dormmate.
From Slytherin, it was Malfoy's two lackeys and Pansy Parkinson.
"Harry, Ron, are you alright?" George and Fred asked, unusually solemn for once.
"It's nothing serious." Harry forced a smile. "What brings you here?"
"We didn't see you or Ron this morning, and I was terrified," Neville said, his face scrunched up. "What exactly happened last night?"
At the mention of this, not only Harry and Ron but even Malfoy's face turned deathly pale.
Their minds involuntarily flashed back to the towering flames, the cold green light, and finally the overwhelming white dragon that had dominated everything.
"Last night..." Harry took a deep breath and spoke slowly, "Last night, we went into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid."
"Something was hunting a Unicorn. We were searching for it, but then we saw Wayne..."
Harry recounted everything he had witnessed.
Harry hadn't seen the full picture. By the time they arrived, Voldemort had already taken possession of Quirrell's body, and he was having another episode.
So the account was fragmented, and it was only with Ron's occasional additions that the others managed to piece it together.
Their faces were filled with disbelief.
"Th-that can't be true," Neville stammered. "A Dark Wizard... daring to come to Hogwarts? And Wayne, he..."
"Potter's telling the truth," Malfoy said coldly. "That man used the Killing Curse more than once. Lawrence drove him away."
Fred and George exchanged glances.
Even Malfoy was vouching for Harry's story, so there was no doubting its authenticity.
With the company, Ron felt much better.
"A Patronus—in the end, Wayne used an incredibly powerful Patronus," Ron emphasised. "It was a dragon, unlike any other dragon. So cool."
By the end, his eyes were practically overflowing with envy.
The Patronus Charm was already an extremely difficult spell to master, let alone to the level of power Wayne had achieved.
Moreover, everyone's Patronus was supposed to be an ordinary animal, not a magical creature.
Before this, there had only been one exception in the entire wizarding world: Dumbledore.
But now, there was another—Wayne.
Though no one had seen the dragon's true form, it must have been extraordinary.
The twins pressed for more details, but when the time came, Madam Pomfrey arrived to shoo them away, and they left reluctantly.
...
If the twins knew, then the whole school would know.
By the afternoon, everyone was both panicked about the appearance of a Dark Wizard and frantically searching for Wayne, eager to learn more. As for Hufflepuff suddenly losing fifty points... no one cared.
In the end, it was Professor McGonagall who stepped in to quell the chaos. "The Dark Wizard appeared to poach rare magical creatures from the Forbidden Forest. From now on, professors will patrol the forest daily, so I urge everyone not to attempt breaking school rules by entering the forest. That would be irresponsible to your safety!"
At this last remark, Professor McGonagall fixed the twins with a stern look.
Only when they guiltily lowered their heads did she shift her gaze and continue, "Mr Lawrence was deducted one hundred and fifty points yesterday. However, as he protected his classmates and the magical creatures in the forest, one hundred points were added back."
Professor Sprout's expression darkened.
The usually gentle witch was angry, not about the points, but because Wayne had done something so dangerous the night before. And she, the Head of House, was the last to know?
"Minerva."
Once Professor McGonagall had taken her seat, Sprout whispered, "Where on earth has Wayne gone?"
Professor McGonagall shook her head slightly. "I don't know either, but Dumbledore said Mr Lawrence is perfectly healthy and unharmed. He just needs a day's rest."
"Perhaps only he knows where Wayne is."
Glancing at the empty Headmaster's seat, Sprout could only suppress her frustration for now, resolving to have a proper talk with Wayne once she found him tomorrow.
...
Meanwhile.
The boy who was on everyone's mind was currently lying on the grass inside his suitcase, gazing up at the sky.
Beside him, three Unicorns frolicked playfully.
After leaving Dumbledore's office yesterday, Wayne hadn't returned to the dormitory. Instead, he had Gardevoir leave notes for Hermione and Cho before retreating into the suitcase to sleep and fully recover his energy.
Upon waking, he reviewed the previous night's battle twice, analysing his shortcomings. Only then did he have time to check the system notifications.
[System Major Event: 'Burning the Forbidden Forest' completed. Task Influence: Fair]
[Continuous Quest 'Fallen Professor' progress increased. Reward tier upgraded. Final settlement at the end of the academic year.]
[Major Event rewards being calculated... Congratulations, Host. Obtained 2500 points. Reward obtained: Talent – Sudden Impact (Purple)]
[Sudden Impact: After spatial displacement, the next spell's potency is enhanced. The degree of enhancement depends on the Host's mastery of Apparition and other spatial magic.]
The system's final rating was rather low, but Wayne wasn't bothered.
He hadn't deliberately set the forest ablaze—casting the Fire Shield had been to create obstacles for Quirrell, or rather, Voldemort, to hinder his escape.
He hadn't intentionally expanded the fire's scope. These rewards were just pleasant surprises.
The 2500 points alone made last night's battle worthwhile. What left Wayne dazed, however, was... why was his Patronus him?
Swirling his wand, Wayne softly incanted the spell. "Expecto Patronum."
A silvery mist burst forth, coalescing once more into the colossal dragon from the previous night, floating serenely before him.
Wayne locked eyes with it, as if staring into his own reflection.
This sensation wasn't entirely wrong—a Patronus was formed from one's positive emotions and magical power. Skilled practitioners could even use their Patronus as temporary messengers.
But its form made his heart pound.
Aurelion Sol.
It bore another name.
The Star Forger.
In another world, Aurelion had crafted the stars, scattering seeds of light across the cosmos, bestowing his magnificent grace upon the boundless desolation.
A veritable pinnacle of existence, the ultimate benchmark of power.
Yet such beings often met tragic fates. The Star Forger had been deceived by the Celestials of Mount Targon, his divine power siphoned to forge the Aspects, reduced to a mere battery.
Even so, Wayne felt utterly unworthy of having Aurelion Sol as his Patronus. The disparity between them was far too vast.
"System, was this your doing?"
Wayne asked inwardly. His system was rather rigid, lacking independent consciousness, though it could occasionally answer rule-related queries.
[Negative. The system has provided no additional assistance beyond designated rewards.]
[According to calculations, due to the Host obtaining Runeterra rune talents, subconscious changes have occurred. All formative causes stem from the Host's actions.]
[The Guardian Spirit's manifestation is determined by multiple factors, including bloodline, mental imagery, and innate talents.]
Runes?
Wayne frowned, spreading his palm open.
Two red runes and two blue runes materialised before him.
Thunderlord's Decree, Sudden Impact, Manaflow Band, and Waterwalking.
He hadn't realised it until the system mentioned it—he'd drawn four runes as innate talents.
Wayne was lost in thought.
At first, his Patronus had been an egg. What it would hatch into depended entirely on his own conditions.
He had initially assumed the egg was due to Ho-Oh not yet being born at the time. But a Dragon King was fine too—paired with his Innate Saint talent, his Patronus could rightfully bear the title of Dragon King in this world.
Against Dark Wizards or malevolent forces, the Innate Saint talent granted him a significant advantage.
Having sorted out his thoughts, Wayne spent the system reward points and his remaining ones on draws.
Three ten-draws later, he obtained three more purple-tier spells.
Luck simply wasn't on his side for an early gold-tier pull.
...
By eight in the evening, Wayne had returned to the castle.
With the curfew approaching, the corridors were already empty.
However, the moment he stepped into the Common Room, the little badgers who had been going about their business froze mid-action before swarming him in unison.
Cedric even executed a sliding tackle—demonstrating the agility of a Seeker—before clinging to Wayne's leg and growling fiercely:
"You're not going anywhere until you explain everything properly!"