The Great Hall fell into stunned silence. The duel had ended too quickly for many to process.
Newt, having been forewarned by Wayne's earlier comment, wore an odd expression as he leaned over and whispered, "That was your handiwork, wasn't it?"
Wayne didn't bother hiding it and nodded outright.
"Originally, I approached the British Ministry first, but Scrimgeour tried to lowball me. So I had to export what I couldn't sell domestically."
"I was already doing him a favour by offering to do business with him, and he had the gall to try and shortchange me?"
Wayne grew angrier as he spoke, his hand unconsciously reaching for his wand. Newt noticed and immediately grabbed his arm.
Good heavens, boy!
If you act now, this conference will turn into a counter-terrorism drill!
The nearby Cross didn't notice the subtle exchange between the two, still marvelling at the power of the enchanted device's spell.
"That's even stronger than the Auror's own casting. How on earth did you manage it?"
"A specially enhanced version with extra ingredients. It's only natural it packs more punch," Wayne replied with a faint smile.
To deliver a proper blow to Scrimgeour, every offensive device he'd sold had been meticulously crafted, their power rivalling an Auror's full-powered spell.
With two such spells striking simultaneously, Kingsley's hastily conjured Shield Charm naturally couldn't withstand them.
"Could you sell me a few?" Cross asked eagerly, watching the triumphant Romanian Auror descend from the stage.
"Easy. Three hundred Galleons each. How many do you want?" In high spirits, Wayne agreed readily. Cross immediately requested ten.
Then he turned to Newt, speaking earnestly: "When will your brother be free? I need to challenge him to a duel."
Newt's mouth twitched as he ignored Cross.
Just got some overpowered gear and already looking to bully people? Have you no shame?
A murmur of conversation rippled through the Great Hall.
Snort!
The French Auror Office director, seated beside Scrimgeour, suddenly burst into laughter, acting as a catalyst as numerous others around them failed to suppress their mirth.
"Mr Scrimgeour, no need for haste. Medical staff will arrive shortly."
As he spoke, two attendants hurried over, levitating the unconscious Kingsley out of the hall with a Levitation Charm.
Most wore expressions of schadenfreude.
The British Ministry of Magic wasn't particularly popular. They'd long played the role of troublemakers across the continent.
This mirrored Muggle society rather well. Whether the British government or the Ministry, their goal was to foster a divided Europe, preventing unity so the British Isles could sit back and watch the turmoil, maintaining balance between powers.
"Minister Crivey, this violates regulations," Scrimgeour said coldly, barely containing his fury. "A simple duel, yet your subordinate used valuable enchanted devices? That's utterly shameless."
Romania, being a small region with few wizards, had its Minister for Magic personally oversee Auror operations and had attended today.
Hearing Scrimgeour's complaint, the minister stood his ground: "What do you mean by 'simple duel'? This was a combat simulation replicating real conditions."
"Should Aurors refrain from using devices when facing Dark Wizards and criminals?"
"If you British can't afford them, must we endure hardship alongside you?"
"Precisely, this fully complies with the rules."
"Aurors relying solely on spells are the biggest fools. Their duty is capturing criminals, not duelling!"
Officials from several other nations voiced support for Romania, leaving Scrimgeour livid and speechless.
Then the German Auror Office director delivered another blow.
"Minister Crivey, where did you procure such powerful devices?"
Crivey grinned: "Celia Store in Diagon Alley. My team discovered this hidden gem - affordable yet highly effective equipment."
"!!!"
Scrimgeour stared at him in shock.
...
The following match made Scrimgeour realise his nightmare had only just begun.
Britain's second-ranked Auror faced a German opponent. Once again, leveraging superior equipment, the German Auror effortlessly won, mercilessly knocking his opponent unconscious before dumping them before Scrimgeour.
The third match pitted them against a Bulgarian Auror. Following the same script, when the opponent activated the Shield Charm on their artefact, Scrimgeour already foresaw the outcome.
Sure enough, they suffered a crushing defeat.
All three elite Aurors he'd brought had been utterly routed in the first round.
Simultaneously, Scrimgeour noticed that these nations possessing alchemical artefacts were precisely those who'd earlier voiced support for the Romanian Minister for Magic.
Observing Scrimgeour sitting rigidly in his seat with a numb expression, Wayne chuckled softly and said to Newt:
"The show's over for today. Let's head out."
Newt nodded silently, following behind Wayne and Cross. Before exiting the Great Hall, he cast a pitying glance at the still shell-shocked Scrimgeour.
He mourned for him internally.
Of all people to provoke, why choose a grudge-holding badger like Wayne?
For a handful of Galleons, he'd made both himself and the British Ministry of Magic lose tremendous face.
Though Newt didn't understand politics, he could well imagine the media storm awaiting Scrimgeour upon their return.
...
The following day featured the finals of the singles competition. Wayne didn't attend, instead seeking out Gabrielle.
The little girl was overjoyed at his sudden appearance, immediately planting two kisses on his cheeks.
She then dragged Wayne to her room, insisting he video-call her sister Fleur. Wayne had no choice but to indulge her.
Seeing Wayne with Gabrielle left Fleur utterly astonished:
"You're in Paris? Has Hogwarts gone on holiday?"
"No," Wayne smiled. "Newt and I came to handle some business. Since we were passing through Paris, I thought I'd visit Gabrielle."
"Could you come to Beauxbatons?" The half-Veela's eyes shone with hope.
"Sorry." Wayne shook his head regretfully. "I'm leaving tomorrow."
"Oh." Fleur's disappointment was palpable, even the lustre of her silver hair seeming to dim.
The little girl, however, was delighted, believing she'd bested her sister. Hugging Wayne's neck, she gave him another loud 'mua', provoking Fleur's outrage.
"Gabrielle! Just wait until I'm home for the holidays!"
"Neener neener!" The unrepentant child stuck out her tongue, making silly faces that amused Wayne greatly.
So smug now... you'll be crying later.
...
On the day of team battles, Wayne returned to the competition venue.
Scrimgeour wasn't entirely foolish—he'd realised they were being targeted. Over the past two days, he'd scoured every major magical shop in Paris, personally funding precious artefacts for his three Aurors.
But commercial junk could never compare to Wayne's creations.
Their offensive spells proved feeble, barely serving as distractions. Defensive charms shattered upon impact, at best neutralising a single spell. Against opponents employing multiple-casting techniques, these protections might as well not exist.
Facing Germany's trio of Aurors, Kingsley's team suffered yet another brutal thrashing. With this, the British delegation's tournament concluded—four matches played, not a single victory secured.
Not only that, but the German Head Auror hypocritically comforted, "Mr Scrimgeour, if the British Ministry of Magic is truly in difficulty, our German Ministry could offer some low-interest loans. Auror safety must be prioritised."
"Indeed, France could also lend assistance."
"Lithuania too..."
Scrimgeour clenched his fists, veins bulging.
Seeing satisfactory results, Wayne knew it was time to return to school.
Before leaving, he met with several elder members of the old guard again. This time, they avoided sensitive topics, merely asking Wayne to convey their regards to Grindelwald next time they met.
Wayne had no objections.
"I'll see you back first," Newt said after Wayne summoned the Zouwu and carriage.
Wayne shook his head gently. "Senior, let me escort you back first."
"You're Apparating back to school?" Newt asked doubtfully. "No need for such trouble."
"Not exactly." Wayne smiled sheepishly. "Well... the Zouwu says it wants to stay with me. If you send me first, you'd have to Apparate back afterwards."
Newt: "..."
...
Life could be so unpredictable - one never knew what might happen next.
Take this business trip, for instance. In the span of one assignment, Newt found himself unexpectedly cuckolded.
Standing in his courtyard, watching the Zouwu pull the carriage skyward into the night, Newt felt completely numb.
What could he do? The Zouwu had been lured away by this lad. Getting it back would be harder than scaling the heavens. How could he explain this to his old friend?
"What are you doing standing at the door? Come inside."
Tina's voice carried over. Newt turned back helplessly. "That boy's run off with the Zouwu."
Tina paused, then burst into laughter.
To poach from Newt's side... Wayne had done brilliantly!
...
"Achoo!"
Rubbing his nose in the carriage, Wayne knew Newt must be cursing him somewhere.
But he paid it no mind.
This was the young Zouwu's own choice - how could it be his fault?
Two hours later, as the carriage approached Hogwarts, the Dementors lurking in the mountains and Hogsmeade swarmed like sharks scenting blood.
"Scram!"
Silver-white light enveloped the carriage. Recognising this familiar terror, the Dementors retreated faster than they'd arrived.
Not that menace again!
With the pests gone, the Zouwu landed on the grass by the Black Lake.
Wayne untied its reins, giving it a few more affectionate strokes before producing his suitcase.
"Go play with Diana and Lulu now."
"Guru~ Guru~!" With one great leap, the young Zouwu disappeared into the case, cleverly using its tail to snap the lid shut - drawing an involuntary smile from Wayne.
The Unicorns had played no small part in luring the Zouwu away.
For children, having compatible playmates outweighed all other considerations.
Under moonlight, Wayne entered the castle. With curfew in effect, the corridors stood silent.
He didn't seek out Hermione, heading straight for the Common Room.
Emerging through the barrel entrance, he found the room surprisingly lively - two young badgers stood before projection devices, engaged in fierce competition.
When Wayne returned, everyone was pleasantly surprised—he'd been gone for nearly a month.
"You actually remembered to come back," Cedric said with a laugh as he stepped forward, only to be nearly knocked over by a crowd of excited girls.
"Wayne, the fashion cards! We want fashion cards!"
"Can you release more styles next time? The colour palette this time was too dark."
"I thought it was fine. Can these be made into actual clothes? I want to buy them!"
"Add some accessories too! Your designs are so beautiful, Wayne—it can't just be clothes without jewellery."
The little witches chattered away, giving Wayne a headache, though he grasped their meaning.
"Wait," Wayne interrupted. "You're saying the fashion card packs are already sold out?"
"Gone ages ago," Susan Bones said loudly. "I went to buy them the second day, and they were already out of stock. I only managed to pull two outfits."
"You're lucky. I couldn't even complete a single set—it just looks weird unfinished."
Seeing them about to launch into another discussion, Wayne quickly cut in. "I think I understand, but I just got back. Let me look into the specifics first. The fashion card packs will be restocked soon, and there'll be even more styles!"
Only then did the girls relent and let him go.
"Those girls are terrifying," Toby said as he walked over, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Tell me about it," Cedric clicked his tongue. "You should've seen it that day—the queue for the cards was all girls. Even when they pulled gold cards, they looked disappointed, but when they got fashion items, they screamed like crazy. I just don't get it."
Wayne gave them both a pitying look.
If they couldn't even understand something this simple about women, how would they ever find wives?
Cedric didn't notice Wayne's disdain and continued asking, "Where exactly did you go? You left so suddenly."
He joked, "If Professor Dumbledore hadn't said you'd taken leave, I'd have thought you'd dropped out."
"Went to an event with Senior Newt. Came back when it ended."
Hearing Newt's name, Cedric's teeth practically ached with envy: "Skipping classes and getting to meet Mr Scamander? You're living the dream."
"That's life." Wayne patted his shoulder, grinning. "Your dream is my everyday reality."
"Piss off," Cedric retorted with a laugh.
"Is Norman in the dorm?" Wayne asked next.
Toby nodded. "Norman overturned his cauldron in Potions class two days ago. Snape originally punished him by making him clean up the mess, but then Black showed up again. Since students can't go out alone, he got switched to copying 'Cauldron Safety Guidelines' a hundred times. Still hasn't finished."
Wayne's brow furrowed. "Black? Where did he appear?"
"The Gryffindor Common Room."
Toby said with lingering fear, "He sneaked into Potter's dorm but got the wrong bed, mistaking Weasley for Potter. When Weasley woke up, Black escaped again."
"It was Longbottom who leaked the password. His memory's terrible, and Sir Cadogan changes it twice daily, so he wrote it down and lost the note..."
"You should've seen it the next morning when his gran sent a Howler. The whole school heard it – Longbottom fainted on the spot."
Wayne nodded. "Cadogan's bloody annoying, just torturing students."
"They've brought the Fat Lady back now," Cedric said. "Security's tight lately – students aren't allowed to linger around the castle. I can't even use the projector by the Great Hall to play games anymore."
Hmm?
Wayne's eyebrows shot up.
Previously indifferent, Wayne now considered Black utterly heinous.
Daring to delay his point-earning? The man deserved Azkaban!
...
Late at night.
Wayne woke the soundly sleeping Jerry and, while the creature was still groggy, emptied all the gold Galleons from its pockets onto the floor.
"You've got till morning. I want Crookshanks by my bedside tomorrow, or your pocket money's confiscated."
Jerry's beady eyes stared blankly at the boy.
Great confusion filled those tiny eyes.
What kind of master was this?!