After the initial grand welcoming ceremony, Madam Greengrass's manner became much more relaxed once inside, avoiding any further ostentatious displays.
Instead, she had Astoria and Daphne show Wayne around the entire castle while she went to instruct the house-elves to prepare dinner.
The castle grounds covered approximately thirty acres. Among castles, this was neither particularly large nor small, but for the Greengrass family with only three members, it felt overwhelmingly spacious.
The main structure alone contained well over a hundred rooms, along with two side towers and dozens of acres of gardens and meadows.
Consequently, most areas of the castle remained unused, with only a small portion seeing regular activity.
Back home, Astoria's personality became noticeably more lively. Like a songbird, she chirped complaints to Wayne about her recent misfortunes.
Not even a single day's rest after returning, before Madam Greengrass demanded she make up for lessons missed during her illness.
Mornings were spent learning etiquette, and afternoons were spent undergoing combat training with her sister.
Evenings brought no respite - she had to complete part of her summer homework before being allowed free time. Wayne winced in sympathy.
"Is Madam Greengrass really that strict?"
"Exactly!" Astoria looked up at him with pitiful eyes. "Wayne, please put in a good word for me. If that doesn't work, just take me away."
"That's not how it is." Daphne finally couldn't take it anymore and pulled her sister into a firm embrace.
"My sister here has been... excessively energetic since recovering from her illness."
"On the very night we returned, Astoria blasted a hole in one of the castle walls. Mother arranged this schedule precisely to channel her surplus energy..."
Wayne gave the white-haired girl a sceptical look. Astoria stuck out her tongue sheepishly:
"I'd just learned the Reductor Curse and wanted to try it out, that's all."
Daphne snorted. "Then what about chasing the family Kneazle all over the gardens the next morning?"
"Oh, sister, don't bring that up!" Astoria blushed and began wheedling.
Wayne looked at Astoria, who had become extremely adept at acting coquettishly, and fell into deep thought.
This girl's personality has changed quite drastically...
He still remembered when they first met, she had nearly burst into tears twice from being frightened by him. Now she had become so lively...
It seemed the curse had suppressed her too harshly. With the shackles suddenly removed, her temperament had rebounded.
Presumably, after some more time, she should return to normal.
To change the subject, Astoria led Wayne to her bedroom. It wasn't particularly large - just about a thousand square feet - partitioned into a washroom, study, and walk-in wardrobe.
The room was filled with Astoria's distinctive style, with Unicorn plush toys, stickers, and even two Unicorn-shaped rocking horses everywhere.
The young girl ran to the bed and jumped onto it, patting it excitedly as she asked, "Wayne, come try it! Is it comfortable to sleep on?"
Daphne's face darkened.
What kind of bizarre invitation is this!
Unable to refuse Astoria's enthusiastic request, Wayne had no choice but to walk over and try it.
"It's alright, just a bit too soft. I prefer firmer beds - better for the back."
"Then I'll have Blinky change it for you."
"No need. Even if I stay for a couple of days, I'd definitely sleep in the guest room. Your room is too pink for my taste."
"..."
Daphne sighed and quietly left the room.
She'd realised her presence was completely superfluous.
Damn it... Why hadn't their mother blessed her with beauty like her sister's when she was born?
...
After touring the bedroom, Astoria took Wayne to several drawing rooms, exhibition halls, the dining room, and finally the library.
This was the place that excited Wayne most.
The Greengrass family had nearly fifteen hundred years of history - almost a millennium longer than Nicolas Flamel's lifespan. One could imagine the depth of their heritage.
Especially since this family maintained such a low profile. It was precisely this unassuming attitude that had allowed them to pass down their legacy peacefully without suffering major disasters, leaving their documents and books remarkably well-preserved.
Seeing Wayne ignore her completely upon entering the library, Astoria pouted but didn't disturb him. Instead, she quietly stood by Wayne's side, chin resting on her hands, admiring the boy absorbed in his reading.
It wasn't until the House-elf named Blinky came to call them for dinner that Wayne finally put down his book and left the library.
During dinner, Mrs Greengrass spoke very little, merely listening to Wayne's conversation with her two daughters.
It wasn't until after the meal, when Astoria tried to pull Wayne away, that she shooed her daughters off and kept the young man behind alone.
"Mr Lawrence, was there something you needed the Greengrass family to do when you proposed this visit?"
When Wayne had offered to visit at King's Cross Station, she had already understood—he must have some purpose in mind.
This didn't surprise Mrs Greengrass, nor did she feel threatened.
What she stood to gain far outweighed what she had to give.
No amount of wealth or heritage could buy back her daughter's health and life, and she had long been mentally prepared for this.
Wayne didn't bother with pleasantries either, handing over the plan drafted by several lobbying group executives to Mrs Greengrass.
His choice of the Greengrass family had been carefully considered from multiple angles.
Among the people he knew and had solid relationships with, Mrs Greengrass was the most grounded in worldly matters.
Newt and Nicolas were too detached from such things, wholly uninterested in secular affairs, devoted only to their own lives and work.
From another perspective, Nicolas was French by identity, and Newt belonged to Dumbledore's faction—both naturally at odds with Wayne's target demographic.
The Greengrass family, however, was just right. They maintained good relations with most pure-bloods, hadn't taken any radical stances, and could mediate between both sides.
That said, Wayne didn't strictly need to rely on Mrs Greengrass. He had another option in mind.
Namely, Lucius Malfoy.
The advantage of fence-sitters was precisely this—they were easily swayed... no, easily poached.
At least until Voldemort's return, all he had to do was crush the Malfoy Family once, and they would obediently work for him.
As Wayne's thoughts wandered, Mrs Greengrass grew increasingly unsettled as she read, finally fixing the young man with a complicated expression.
"Who devised this plan?"
She didn't know how to assess this proposal...
Influence, erosion, infiltration, assimilation, control—each step interlocked seamlessly, silent and insidious.
In the wizarding world, this would be nothing short of overwhelming dominance. It left her sweating.
Once you took the bait, shaking free wouldn't be so simple.
"Some elite Muggles." Wayne smiled sheepishly. "Though they don't understand magic, intelligence isn't tied to it."
"You're right..." Mrs Greengrass said, her expression still troubled. "Muggles... they're becoming truly frightening."
"There's no need for such concern."
Wayne took a sip of lemon juice, wincing at the sourness. "The only reason I dare attempt this is because I have the strength to back it. Anyone else wouldn't even qualify to use this plan."
"Your ambitions are too vast." Mrs Greengrass sighed.
"You misunderstand me." Wayne countered earnestly. "I'm just a child who wants a comfortable living environment."
"Only..." The boy lowered his head awkwardly, embarrassed as he admitted,
"I've been privileged since childhood, with ancestral wealth and an uncle looking after me, so I've lived rather comfortably."
"But after coming to the wizarding world, I was just a lonely child with no one to back me up. It felt strange."
"If you can't adapt, then the only option is to change the world."
Madam Greengrass's lips parted slightly.
So... instead of you adapting to the world, you'd make the world adapt to you?
Such a domineering mindset—are you the Dark Lord?
"Mr Lawrence," Madam Greengrass took a deep breath and spoke slowly, "By rights, since you saved Astoria, I could grant you any request."
"But this isn't a trivial matter. I know you're exceptionally talented with limitless potential, but you're still too young."
"How about waiting a few years? After you graduate, I'll support your plans to establish the Lawrence family firmly in the wizarding world."
"Are you concerned my abilities aren't sufficient to sustain such an ambitious plan?" Wayne asked calmly, unoffended.
"Precisely," Madam Greengrass nodded. "But I have every faith you'll be capable in the future."
"Please review this memory first." Wayne produced the memory of his duel with Grindelwald once more.
It essentially served as his personal credentials—with clear documentation and a benchmark opponent, others could properly gauge whether his strength was 'qualified'.
Soon after watching the duel through the Pensieve, Madam Greengrass fell silent.
Assuming she remained unconvinced, Wayne stood. "If you'd prefer more concrete proof, I can take you to Nurmengard for a rematch with Grindelwald. I've business with him regardless."
"No, no need!" Madam Greengrass snapped out of her daze, waving her hands hastily.
"That wasn't my meaning—I was simply too stunned to respond immediately."
The thought of Wayne taking her to confront Grindelwald was utterly unnecessary!
How could she be unaware of that man's status and power?
Their evenly matched duel and cataclysmic magic had shattered her initial shallow perceptions of Wayne's capabilities.
"Mr Lawrence, I accept your proposal." Unconsciously, Madam Greengrass adopted a more deferential tone.
"Tomorrow I'll visit the Daily Prophet headquarters. Financial backing won't be an issue—I have just one request..."
...
The following morning...
Wayne temporarily settled in the castle. At dawn, Madam Greengrass departed for Diagon Alley via Floo Powder.
The first step of their plan was seizing control of media influence.
Both the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly fell squarely within their sights.
Some wizards sought wealth, others fame.
Had Wayne owned those major publications previously, Lockhart would've grovelled at his feet, while politicians like Fudge would've begged favours—leveraging the papers' reach to craft their public images.
When he encountered the lively Astoria that morning, Wayne recalled Madam Greengrass's request from the previous night, his expression turning peculiar.
The young heiress had etiquette lessons that morning. Out of curiosity, Wayne observed briefly before fleeing under her reproachful gaze—the class was taught by the castle's ancient house-elf Blinky, a 100-year-old expert in decorum and history. These things were purely pretentious displays concocted by old families to flaunt their superiority – all flash with no substance.
The volume of one's voice, different greeting protocols for different people, even the precise angle of bows and the permitted swing of arms while walking, were all rigidly prescribed.
Utterly pointless drivel.
Far better to spend that time reading in the library.
...
Wayne had expected to continue reading until Madam Greengrass returned, but by afternoon, Astoria had dragged him out.
"Wayne, please keep me company. That old man's too scary – I'm frightened."
"What's there to fear? He won't hit you."
"Ugh, just looking at him terrifies me! He's so rude, too. I'd feel braver with you beside me."
Unable to resist the wealthy young girl's pleading, Wayne reluctantly set aside his book and followed her to the training ground.
There stood the so-called 'old man' she'd mentioned.
"You're late, Greengrass," the man growled in a gravelly voice, his bright blue magical eye whirring unnervingly. Astoria shrank behind Wayne's back.
Studying the man, Wayne was astonished by Madam Greengrass's connections.
To hire this man as the sisters' private tutor... truly impressive influence...
That vivid blue eye and scar-ravaged face explained Astoria's terror.
His wooden leg lent him a permanent tilt, and he gripped a thick wooden staff.
The man's identity was unmistakable.
Alastor Moody – Britain's greatest Auror this century.
To many Death Eaters, his name struck greater fear than Dumbledore's. Over half of Azkaban's inmates had been captured by him, and every scar marked battles against Dark Wizards.
All were inflicted by vicious Dark Magic that even St Mungo's healers couldn't erase.
Moody should be retired by now. How Madam Greengrass had secured him as tutor was beyond Wayne.
Frowning, Wayne sensed intrusive magic. A white glow shimmered across his skin as Moody made a surprised noise.
His magical eye's gaze had been blocked.
"Who are you, boy?"
Moody scrutinised the youth with aggressive suspicion – the veteran Auror's habitual glare that many mistook for senile paranoia.
"Wayne Lawrence. Third-year Hufflepuff," Wayne introduced himself.
"Lawrence?" Moody's magical eye whirred in recollection. "I know you. Dumbledore's mentioned you often. Alastor Moody. Former Auror."
"I know you too," Wayne smiled politely. "Anyone with basic wizarding knowledge knows Britain's greatest Auror."
"Fascinating magic." After several failed attempts to penetrate the white glow, Moody nodded approvingly. "Seems Dumbledore was right – you truly are the most gifted student ever. Even surpasses You-Know-Who."
"You call him You-Know-Who, too?" Wayne asked curiously.
Moody paused, then chuckled – though on his ravaged face, even a smile looked menacing.
"Didn't want to scare you kids, lad."
"There isn't a being in this world whose name I dare not speak aloud, though every time I do, it seems to make those around me tremble with fear."
"Over time, I've grown accustomed to it."
Moody regarded Wayne with appreciation. "Since you're here, you might as well join them in their lessons. I'll teach you some skills to become an Auror."
"Apologies," Wayne said with a harmless, gentle smile.
"Firstly, I have no intention of becoming an Auror."
"Secondly... I don't believe there's anything left for you to teach me."
The smile slowly faded from Moody's face.