Only after speaking did Dumbledore remember Patronuses couldn't receive replies.
He summoned his own Phoenix Patronus to relay a message to McGonagall, then recalled Fawkes.
"Drop by sometime," Abeforth invited Wayne as they left.
The boy nodded, vanishing with Dumbledore in a flash of fire.
...
In the Headmaster's Office, Professor McGonagall stormed in, brandishing a newspaper, Snape trailing behind her.
Unlike McGonagall's fury, Snape looked positively jubilant - Wayne had never seen him so cheerful.
But the smile faded rapidly upon seeing Wayne in the office.
"Lawrence," Snape said, then brightened as realisation struck. "Don't tell me you didn't take the train either? How—"
"Indeed," Wayne said amiably. "Ho-Oh brought me directly. And Cho, and Hermione. Oh, and it was Headmaster-approved."
The old bat was no longer smiling at all.
Professor McGonagall nodded at Wayne and placed the Daily Prophet on the desk. Dumbledore glanced at it—the front page featured news about the flying car.
After a moment's contemplation, Dumbledore asked, "Are you certain it was Potter and Ron Weasley up there?"
"Absolutely," Snape replied, ignoring Wayne's raised eyebrows, his smirk harder to suppress than a spell-casting wand. "Arthur has already contacted Minerva. His car was taken, and none of the arriving students have seen either of them."
"Where are they now?" Dumbledore asked impassively.
"Not at the school yet, but they'll be here soon."
The room fell silent, save for Professor McGonagall's muttered complaints.
Wayne had sharp ears and could make out phrases like "utterly reckless," "mad little wizards," and "deserving of Azkaban."
It seemed Professor McGonagall was truly furious this time.
"I understand. Mr Lawrence, thank you for your efforts today. Minerva, Severus, please go ahead and oversee the feast."
"Dumbledore, what about the punishment—" Snape asked, unable to hide his anticipation.
"Let's find them first. Safety is the priority," Dumbledore said, waving them off.
Professor McGonagall left quickly with the Sorting Hat in hand, while Wayne and Snape lagged behind.
"Professor, are you really hoping Harry gets expelled?"
"Of course," Snape said, pursing his lips to appear less gleeful. "Rule-breakers deserve consequences, don't they? I'd rather the Ministry took this seriously. Arthur works in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, doesn't he?"
Wayne said with a hint of schadenfreude. "Let's hope Ron Weasley doesn't cause him too much trouble."
"Oh, expulsion might be for the best," Wayne remarked casually. "Then you'd never have to see Harry again."
Snape's smile froze.
Not seeing Harry's Potter-like face would be no loss—but those eyes, so much like Lily's...
His good mood vanished instantly. Snape was visibly conflicted.
Watching his expression shift between pale and livid, Wayne burst into laughter.
"Lawrence, what's so funny? Where's your summer homework? I demand to inspect it now!" Snape snapped, resorting to his ultimate threat.
"Apologies, Professor, but the Headmaster has exempted me from all future holiday assignments," Wayne said with feigned humility.
This only infuriated Snape further. With a swish of his robes, he stormed off down the stairs without another word.
...
By the time Wayne entered the Great Hall after two and a half months away, his mood had soared to new heights.
"Wayne, long time no see!"
"Hey Wayne, why weren't you on the train?"
"Lawrence, how was your summer?"
Students from every house greeted him warmly as he made his way to the seat Cedric had saved for him.
"Wayne, I've missed you so much!" A human-shaped figure lunged at him, forcing Wayne to shove them away in alarm.
"And you are...?"
"It's me, Norman!" The figure looked horrified. "You can't be serious. One summer apart, and you've forgotten your dearest friend?"
Wayne blinked in confusion. "You're Norman?"
"I told you—no one would recognise you," Toby said ominously, peering out from behind Hannah." People would think you escaped from some plantation."
"Pfft!"
"Hahaha, that's so mean, Toby."
The surrounding Hufflepuff students couldn't help but burst into laughter.
Over the holidays, Norman had tanned himself from white to black; even his hair had turned curly. And when he smiled, all you could see were his gleaming white teeth.
No wonder Wayne hadn't recognised him.
"Is this some kind of tanning treatment?" Wayne said helplessly. "Where did you sunbathe? The sunlight must've been brutal."
"I... I found a vegetable greenhouse. The sunlight inside was really strong," Norman scratched his head sheepishly. "Was the effect that good?"
"Too good," Wayne patted Norman's shoulder.
Still the same old flavour – his personal sleeping dragon.
After some small talk, Cedric finally asked, "We didn't see you on the train. We almost thought you came to school by car like Potter and the others. It wasn't until we arrived and saw Hermione and Cho that we heard you'd returned early."
"Word spreads that fast?" Wayne looked at him in surprise. They hadn't even landed properly, yet it felt like the whole school already knew.
"The Weasleys turned the train carriage upside down," Cedric explained. "They received another letter from their parents saying the car was gone..."
Cedric shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.
Wayne glanced at the Gryffindor table and noticed the usually boisterous twins were uncharacteristically quiet, looking thoroughly miserable. With their younger brother and Harry's fate still unknown, they naturally weren't in the mood for laughter.
After some thought, Wayne wrote a note, folded it into a paper crane, then cast a spell.
The paper crane fluttered its wings and landed in the twins' hands. Unfolded, it contained just a few lines assuring them that the boys would likely be fine.
This wasn't blind faith in the plot – that car had been modified by both him and Mr Weasley. Even if it crashed into the Whomping Willow, the passengers would be unharmed.
After reading the note, the twins looked up at Wayne and gave slight nods, their expressions easing somewhat.
BANG!
A side door of the Great Hall swung open as Professor McGonagall entered, carrying the Sorting Hat and leading this year's batch of new first-years.
The hall fell silent – Professor McGonagall's expression was terrifying, and the first-years behind her all shrank their necks nervously.
No wonder she was angry. If not for having to oversee the Sorting Ceremony, she'd be scouring the grounds for the still-missing Ron and Harry, ready to show them what a Head of House's wrath truly meant.
After explaining the rules, the Sorting Hat launched into its newly composed song, the product of a year's contemplation. Wayne had already heard it during his earlier chat with the hat, but hearing it again still felt utterly jarring.
'With lyrics this bad, the Sorting Hat really should take lessons from Lee Jordan,' Wayne thought. Being black does come with certain... natural advantages.
Among the long line of first-years, Wayne only recognised three students, who happened to be standing together: Luna, Astoria Greengrass, and Ginny.
Of the three girls, only Luna appeared completely at ease – the other two were visibly trembling with nerves.
"Barton Blade!"
The first boy stepped forward, nearly tripping on the steps. He hastily put on the hat, which soon shouted:
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Wayne happily applauded along with his fellow badgers – this was an auspicious start. He'd be delighted if all the new students got sorted into Hufflepuff. Wouldn't that make them all his underlings?
...
The queue slowly dwindled.
When about half the students had been sorted, Harry and Ron finally arrived at the Great Hall. Not daring to enter, they left their luggage by their feet and peered through the crack in the door at the Sorting Ceremony inside.
At the staff table, the most dazzling presence was Lockhart. Harry found this man thoroughly irritating – during their last book purchase, he'd insisted on dragging Harry into a photo.
He was currently speaking with Professor Flitwick, though judging by Flitwick's expression, he seemed equally uncomfortable.
There was an empty seat in the middle. Harry brightened slightly. "Snape's not here."
"Maybe he's ill," Ron said hopefully.
"Maybe he left," Harry suggested. "Perhaps he resigned in a rage after failing to get the Defence Against the Dark Arts post."
"Harry, how can you say that about a professor!" Ron said excitedly. "Couldn't he have been sacked? Everyone hates him."
"Perhaps..." A cold, sinister voice spoke from behind them. "Perhaps he was waiting to hear why you didn't take the train to school."
The smile faded from Harry's face as he turned to see Snape standing behind them, a mocking sneer playing on his lips as he stared at him and Ron.
"Come with me," Snape said.
"But we still need to attend the feast," Ron protested.
"The feast?" Snape paused mid-step, his smile widening. "You'd do better to think about how you'll explain to your families why you're about to be expelled."
Their limbs turned to ice as if bound by invisible ropes, and they followed Snape down to the dungeons.
...
Inside the Great Hall, Wayne suddenly seemed to sense something and glanced towards the half-open door.
A while later, when Ginny was finally sorted into Gryffindor, the Sorting Ceremony concluded.
Dumbledore studied the words that appeared in his goblet before slowly rising to his feet and uttering just two words:
"Dig in!"
The empty plates filled instantly with a sumptuous feast that looked incredibly tempting. However, Wayne had eaten quite heartily at the Hog's Head and barely touched his cutlery.
Professor McGonagall returned to her seat and was about to sit down when Dumbledore said something to her, prompting her to storm off angrily.
Soon after, she returned and whispered urgently with Dumbledore. The old wizard frowned, then sent Sprout off with McGonagall. After a moment's thought, he called out clearly, "Mr Lawrence, a word, please."
Wayne, who had been helping Toby and Norman plan their homework catch-up schedule, blinked in confusion before approaching the staff table.
"Go with Minerva. The Whomping Willow may require your assistance."
Nodding, Wayne followed the two Heads of House.
They didn't head outside but instead made their way down to the dungeons, arriving at Snape's office.
Before tending to the Whomping Willow, McGonagall decided Harry and Ron needed to understand the gravity of their mistake first.
...
Inside the office, Harry and Ron huddled miserably in a corner while Snape maintained a silent, oppressive presence.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed tightly together. Though her voice wasn't as loud as expected, her fury was palpable.
"Eight Muggles saw your car. They've reported it to authorities across towns in England. Do you understand the trouble you've caused Arthur?"
Harry went deathly pale and instinctively replied: "The wall at King's Cross Station was broken, we couldn't get through..."
"Why didn't you send an owl to the Ministry of Magic, to Arthur, to me, or even to Dumbledore? Any of those would have been better than your choice!"
Professor McGonagall felt like she might cry – from sheer exasperation at these two foolish Gryffindors. Her gaze fell upon Wayne standing obediently behind Professor Sprout, and her heart ached even more.
The absence of comparison was painful enough. In comparison, it became critical damage.
Why do all the troublemakers end up in Gryffindor while the well-behaved students go to other houses?
"I..." Harry opened his mouth but couldn't form words. His body felt alien to him, his mind buzzing with white noise.
"Are we going to be expelled?" Ron asked, his voice trembling.
That wasn't even his greatest worry. If his father lost his job because of this... Ron imagined his furious mother casting him out onto the streets. He'd heard from Harry that many Muggles survived by scavenging through rubbish – perhaps that would be his fate too.
"Wait until the Headmaster arrives," McGonagall said. "Only he can determine your final punishment." With that, she fell silent like Snape.
Professor Sprout had gone to inspect the Whomping Willow's condition behind the castle.
Wayne approached the two boys, offering each of them a sandwich. "You must be hungry after your journey. Eat something."
"Thanks," Harry murmured, accepting the food but not eating. With his fate uncertain, he had no appetite.
"How was the car? Comfortable ride?"
Wayne chatted casually with them as if nothing had happened.
Snape's eyelid twitched, but he remained silent. Professor McGonagall glanced at Wayne before lowering her head, though her ears perked up.
"It was brilliant – more comfortable than our sofa at home," Ron replied listlessly.
"What about the speed?"
"Could keep up with the train, but altitude control was tricky."
"Then how did you crash into the Whomping Willow?" Wayne asked curiously.
Ron's expression darkened: "I tried to land but hit some button... it went terribly fast. Too fast."
"That was the racing mode," Wayne grinned. "Landing's simple – just hit the brakes."
Ron looked utterly confused: "What are brakes?"
Harry stared at his friend in shock. Ron had seemed so confident behind the wheel, but he didn't even know what brakes were?
Wayne shook his head and dropped the subject.
What a shame about the car – Mr Weasley's newly modified vehicle, barely used before these two wrecked it.
The doors swung open again as Dumbledore entered, his expression graver than they'd ever seen.
"Are we being expelled?" Ron asked after they had explained their reasons once more.
"Not today, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore said, looking between him and Harry. "But I must make you feel the gravity of your actions. I shall be writing to your families. Should anything similar occur again, I will have no choice but to expel you."
From Wayne's understanding of Dumbledore, the old wizard's anger stemmed not from the scale of Harry and Ron's mischief, but from the reckless danger they'd put themselves in.
Though Snape also didn't wish to see Harry expelled, his expression still soured unavoidably.
"Professor Dumbledore, that Whomping Willow was severely damaged—it was nearly snapped in half."
The implication was clear: he wanted both boys punished harshly. Harry and Ron's hearts leapt into their throats again.
"Let Professor McGonagall decide," said Dumbledore. "This concerns Gryffindor students, and Minerva has the right."
"As for the Whomping Willow," he turned to Wayne, his expression softening slightly.
"Mr Lawrence, we'll still need your help. With Ho-Oh's abilities, you should be able to assist that poor tree."
"Not today," Wayne shook his head.
"Encountered some difficulties?" Dumbledore asked with concern.
"No," Wayne spread his hands. "Term hasn't officially started today. If we save it tomorrow, I'll definitely earn plenty of points for Hufflepuff."
Everyone: "..."