Moody had a peculiar temperament. Even after Wayne's remarks, he merely stared at him for two seconds without showing anger.
He then ignored him completely and began teaching the two sisters.
Wayne casually transfigured a rocking chair and sat down to observe.
According to the original timeline, Moody should have been his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor in his fourth year. Yet in reality, no one had ever attended his classes.
Before arriving at the school, the real Moody had already been imprisoned by Barty Crouch Jr.
For an entire year, it was Barty Crouch Jr. who taught all the lessons.
But let's be honest—compared to the professors of recent years, Barty Crouch Jr. was undoubtedly the most dedicated and substantive instructor.
He gave Harry a clear understanding of the three Unforgivable Curses. To maintain Moody's Auror persona, every lesson he taught was exceptionally practical.
Whether the real Moody would have taught the same way, no one could say.
Wayne intended to observe today.
"Daphne, is your wand a stage prop? Those flourishes are far too theatrical. Your movements should be sharp and swift."
"Astoria, focus. Stop glancing at Lawrence so often."
Astoria's small face flushed red as her wand emitted a shockwave, sending the training rat flying towards Moody.
With a cold snort, Moody's cane struck the ground heavily, producing a dull thud.
The wildly flying rat exploded into a mist of blood, enveloping both Astoria and Daphne. Wayne extended his palm, and as if time had frozen, the blood mist halted mid-air before coalescing into a clump and being flung aside.
"I-I'm sorry, sir," Astoria stammered, belatedly realising her mistake and bowing in apology.
"Apologies are meaningless. What matters is remembering the lesson," Moody growled, his magical eye fixed on Wayne while his normal one glared down at Astoria.
"Even during training, you must never lose focus. Otherwise, on the battlefield, your spells might hit allies instead of enemies."
Moody pointed to a scar on his face, then rolled up his sleeve to reveal his heavily scarred arm.
"These... are all 'gifts' from my own comrades."
"I was lucky. Some weren't."
"I understand," Astoria said solemnly, echoed by Daphne's equally serious nod.
Moody said no more and resumed his teaching.
For the remainder of the session, neither sister made another mistake, applying themselves diligently.
Wayne nodded approvingly.
As expected of the top Auror. The man has real skill.
This teaching style wouldn't work for a whole class - with students of varying abilities and numbers, he couldn't possibly give each the attention they needed.
But as a private tutor for one or two? Perfectly suitable.
Astoria approached with puppy-dog eyes, seeking comfort, but before Wayne could respond, Moody called out, "Lawrence. A word."
Wayne sighed, gently ruffling the little girl's hair. "Go on ahead. I'll find you later."
He then approached Moody, who remained silent until the sisters were out of sight. Only then did the grizzled wizard step back, his thick cane shrinking into a normal wand.
"If my instructions's beneath you, boy, let's see what you're made of."
"You want to duel?" Wayne's expression turned peculiar.
"Scared?" Moody taunted. "Then submit to a month of proper training."
Noticing something odd in Moody's demeanour, Wayne hesitated before summoning his wand.
"Fine. But if I win?"
"What do you want?" Moody shrugged. "I'm broke."
"Why did you agree to be their tutor?" Wayne watched the old man's face closely.
Sure enough, Moody's pupils contracted; his magical eye whirled wildly as his facial muscles tensed.
The silence stretched until Wayne thought he'd refuse. Finally, Moody gritted out, "Deal."
Then, with utter disregard for duelling etiquette, he fired off several spells without warning.
'Sneaky old bastard,' Wayne cursed internally, deftly deflecting the spells before advancing.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Moody continued his assault, silent spells interspersed with fully incanted ones that packed a greater punch. Gradually, his expression grew solemn.
Wayne walked forward unhurriedly, each step seemingly measured with precision. No matter what spells were cast at him, they were effortlessly countered without disrupting his rhythm.
Occasionally, their magical powers would even connect, the glowing energy steadily advancing towards his opponent's side.
'In terms of magical power, I'm actually being overpowered?'
"Incendio!"
Blazing flames surged towards Wayne, yet with a mere flick of his wrist, the fire split apart, forming a corridor of flames.
Moody finally moved, Apparating behind Wayne and immediately casting a Stunning Spell. But in the next moment, Wayne—who had just been in front of him—twisted and vanished.
Before Moody could react, something hard pressed against the back of his head, and a young man's gentle voice sounded from behind.
"Sir, you've lost."
The entire duel had begun inexplicably and ended just as strangely. There had been no visible intensity to the fight—Wayne hadn't even used a single proper spell.
But the experienced Moody knew this was precisely a sign of the vast gap in their abilities.
When a professor wanted to discipline a student, it might take nothing more than raising an arm—a single spell would suffice.
This situation was no different.
Cold sweat broke out on Moody's back as his body tensed. His voice came out strained. "Put the wand away."
Wayne chuckled and lowered his wand.
Against opponents of this level, he no longer needed to engage in prolonged spell exchanges as he once had when bullying Snape, relying on brute magical force and superior power to win.
Now, he could achieve victory with effortless ease—delivering a decisive strike with minimal effort.
Moody sighed. Even now, his magical eye couldn't detect anyone behind him.
He turned, his tone suddenly much milder. "Let's walk together."
...
Along the high castle walls, the old and the young walked side by side in silence.
Wayne waited for Moody to speak, sensing the presence of a juicy secret.
After several hundred metres, Moody finally broke the silence.
"Originally, I planned to give you a month of special training as thanks. Now I see I was far too arrogant."
"Thanks for what?" Wayne asked reflexively.
"For helping Astoria with her blood curse," Moody rasped.
Hmm?
Wayne looked at Moody in confusion.
What does this have to do with you?
Moody didn't answer directly, continuing as if to himself. "You must have heard of Sophia Greengrass."
"No," Wayne admitted honestly, shaking his head.
Moody's breath hitched. "That's Daphne and Astoria's grandmother."
"Oh..." Wayne nodded calmly, though internally, his mind was racing.
Bloody hell, this really is a juicy secret!
Wayne knew the Greengrass family had taken in sons-in-law for generations—so-called "grandmother" actually meant maternal grandmother.
In other words, Mrs Greengrass's mother.
"Back then, Sophia was just like Astoria—her blood curse flared up. She was my classmate, and we were... quite close."
A nostalgic look flashed in Moody's eyes. "After graduation, she married quickly. Barely a year later, she gave birth to Melody—Astoria's mother."
"Only ten years later, Sophia and her husband passed away one after another."
"After that, out of regard for past affections, I helped the Greengrass family where I could. This time, it was only because Melody came pleading to me that I agreed to be their tutor."
Wayne asked, "I heard Dumbledore also came to examine Astoria's blood curse back then. Was that at your invitation, too?"
Moody nodded.
Wayne understood.
He thought he'd pieced the situation together now.
Reading between the lines of Moody's words, Astoria's maternal grandmother must have been either his old flame or his unrequited love.
"Anyway, thank you, Lawrence," Moody said, his magical eye fixed on the youth.
"If you ever need anything in future, you can come to me. Mind you, nothing illegal—I don't want to arrest you myself."
"No need, we're all on the same side. No need for such formalities," Wayne said meaningfully.
...
That evening, Madam Greengrass returned, travel-worn and weary.
After dinner, she looked at Wayne. "Shall we do this now?"
The youth hesitated briefly before nodding. "I've no objections, but you should ask Astoria first."
Their cryptic exchange left both sisters thoroughly confused.
"Astoria," Madam Greengrass turned to her younger daughter, her gaze softening.
"Mr Lawrence and I have reached an agreement."
"What agreement?" The white-haired girl looked utterly bewildered.
"I need you to make an Unbreakable Vow with Mr Lawrence," Madam Greengrass said solemnly. "Your first child with him will bear the Greengrass surname."
"What?"
"Excuse me?!"
Both sisters stared at their mother in shock—was this some kind of joke?
Astoria's face turned instantly pink, burning as if with fever.
"M-mother," she stammered, stealing a glance at the composed young man, "isn't this... a bit too soon?"
"It is somewhat early, but really only by two or three years."
Madam Greengrass drew her daughter into an embrace, tenderly stroking her long hair. "Don't you want this? Wayne's been so good to you. Unless... is there another boy you fancy?"
"Of course not!" Astoria protested immediately, flustered.
Madam Greengrass's smile grew even gentler.
Wizards generally matured earlier—it wasn't uncommon for relationships to form during the third or fourth year, leading to marriage after graduation.
Though Astoria was only about to enter her second year, the ordeals of her childhood had made her more emotionally mature than her peers. She understood these matters perfectly well.
The trope of a hero rescuing a maiden might be old-fashioned, but it never went out of style.
Especially when the hero was as outstanding as Wayne.
Madam Greengrass had noticed long ago that her daughter's heart belonged entirely to someone else.
"So you agree then?"
Astoria peeked shyly at the young man. When Wayne smiled at her, she immediately buried her face in her mother's chest, mumbling:
"I didn't agree."
"The first child can't be Greengrass—it has to be the second one. Wayne's the only heir to his family, too."
Madam Greengrass: "..."
Not even married yet, and already betraying her birth family?
...
In the end, with Daphne as witness, Wayne and the mortified, head-bowed Astoria made their vow. The couple's second child would inherit the Greengrass family name.
However, there was one condition—the second child couldn't be a daughter. If it were a precious girl, Wayne would definitely keep her close and raise her with care.
A son going out to inherit additional family assets was another matter entirely.
Madam Greengrass smiled in satisfaction.
From this day forward, all the resources of the Greengrass family would be open to Wayne—whether it was the treasury or the library, he would have unimpeded access.
No sooner had the oath been successfully sealed than Astoria hurried to make her escape.
The sudden "engagement" left her utterly unsure how to face the young man. She just wanted to retreat and cool her burning cheeks—they were hot enough to fry an egg.
"Don't rush off yet," Wayne said, catching the flustered wealthy young lady by the arm. "I still have a gift for you."
"Daphne, you should come too."
"Me?" Daphne blinked in surprise.
"Right, you want to become an Auror in the future, don't you? This song should help you with that."
Though confused, Daphne followed him.
Inside the suitcase world.
Thud~!
A heavy circular slab fell onto the ground. Judging by the sound, it was made of solid gold alloy.
"What's this?" Astoria crouched down and poked the slab. It felt icy cold.
The back wasn't visible, but the front had twelve grooves leading to the centre. One of them shimmered with golden light while the others remained dull bronze.
"Dining table—I mean, this is the Round Table," Wayne corrected his slip of the tongue.
"You definitely said dining table just now," Daphne teased. "We all heard it."
Astoria nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Ahem, don't mind the details," Wayne said awkwardly. "You know about King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table, right?"
"We do!" the sisters chorused.
Even among wizards, the legends of the famous King Arthur were well-known due to Merlin's connection.
Not to mention the Greengrass family claimed descent from King Arthur himself.
"Are you saying this is that Round Table?" Astoria sounded sceptical.
"Close enough. Maybe even more miraculous," Wayne offered without further explanation.
Two days ago, he'd opened the 'Demon King's Retribution' and 'Reversal of Fortune' gift packs. The latter was just a small pack, yielding only proficiency with the Aegis Shield—nothing noteworthy.
But 'Demon King's Retribution' was different.
Lockhart's gruesome death had elevated the pack's quality to its maximum.
[King Arthur's Banquet Table (Epic): A large-scale Noble Phantasm from a certain Type-Moon universe. Using this as a foundation, the host may recruit twelve knights of their own.]
[Note: After local optimisation, any witch or wizard who signs a contract with the Round Table will have their comprehensive talent evaluation raised to S-rank. When all twelve knights are contracted and developed to their peak, the overall evaluation increases to S+.]
For Wayne's personal strength, this item was utterly useless.
But for building influence, it was remarkably effective.
Each golden light represented a contracted individual. Currently, the sole golden glow on the table signified Nagini.
After hearing Wayne's explanation, both Daphne's and Astoria's eyes lit up.
Talent enhancement?
This was an unheard-of concept in the wizarding world, where innate talent was considered unchangeable.
Though they didn't understand Wayne's 'S-rank' classification, mentioning Snape made everything clear.
Daphne eagerly asked, "How do we sign the contract?"
"Just find a groove and drip a drop of blood into it."
Without hesitation, Daphne transfigured her wand tip into a needle, pricked her finger, and let her blood flow into a groove. Soon, another golden light appeared.
Astoria, however, winced at the thought of pain and pitifully asked Wayne for help.
"That's it?" Daphne only felt a faint connection with the table before her.
She noticed no immediate change in her talents.
"You're not even studying magic yet—of course, you wouldn't feel anything," Wayne rolled his eyes.
"Wait a few days. When you start learning new spells, you'll notice the difference talent makes."