In the Riddle family graveyard, Harry felt nothing but exhilaration.
Looking at Voldemort's remaining half-body, he provocatively shot a Disarming Charm.
To Harry's astonishment, the spell passed through Voldemort's body without resistance, shattering a stone behind him.
"What's going on?" Harry looked at Wayne in confusion.
"He's already gone," Wayne shook his head.
"When half his body exploded earlier, Voldemort had already escaped. What remained here was just an illusion, or rather, a projection."
'Voldemort might have narrow vision, but you absolutely can't call him weak. This bizarre escape magic isn't something I've ever read about in books.'
'It's like a combination of the Demonic Dissolution Art and Blood Escape Technique.'
"I see," Harry said, utterly disappointed. He'd thought Voldemort would be completely destroyed today.
As they spoke, Voldemort's projection gradually dissipated. His final glance at Wayne contained emotions complex enough to form a pie chart.
In truth, Voldemort desperately wanted to ask why his other self had called him 'Young Master Lawrence'.
But time didn't permit it, and he couldn't bring himself to utter those words anyway, so he let it go.
Wayne swept his gaze around and waved his arm. A golden cup came flying through the air into his hand, along with Moody's prosthetic leg and magical eye.
After some thought, he took out a bag and stored Barty Crouch Jr's corpse as well.
Having done this, Wayne cast a Blasting Curse, reducing old Tom Riddle's grave to rubble.
Though somewhat unethical, he wanted to know whether Voldemort still had reserves of his father's ashes.
If not, would he devise another method of resurrection?
After completing these tasks, he grasped Harry's arm and summoned Ho-Oh.
...
Hogwarts.
Hogwarts was now in complete chaos. Dozens of Aurors had arrived from the Ministry of Magic, forcing spectators to remain in the Quidditch Pitch.
Though the live broadcast had cut out, the crowd buzzed with heated discussions about recent events.
Under thousands of watching eyes, the Minister for Magic had been taken away by Portkey. Later, news came that Vladimir and Potter had also disappeared.
People didn't know what was happening, so they were left to wait anxiously.
The crowd wasn't just students from various schools—it included Hogsmeade villagers and distant spectators, making for a volatile mix.
Given more time, another World Cup-style riot seemed inevitable.
Professors and other Headmasters were equally flustered. With the tournament halted, Aurors searching the maze found Vladimir unconscious, confirming the Holy Grail winner had been an impostor.
Just as the Aurors were about to lose control, Fudge suddenly returned via Portkey.
Refusing all communication, he immediately ordered Crouch's arrest before leading all Ministry personnel away from Hogwarts.
Fudge remained shell-shocked—the recent reversals left him unable to distinguish allies from enemies, or who had attempted regicide. However, he knew this award position had been passed from Crouch to Dumbledore, then to him, so he must lie low for safety.
Fudge left with his entourage, leaving chaos in his wake. Potter still hadn't returned!
Just as Professor McGonagall was nearly frantic with worry and Sirius raised his wand to charge towards the Ministry of Magic, a brilliant flame suddenly appeared before them.
As the light faded, Wayne and Harry reappeared at the school.
"Merlin's beard! Thank goodness, Wayne, you found Potter!" Professor McGonagall rushed forward, taking in Harry's injuries and soot-streaked face. "What happened, Potter? What on earth occurred?"
"Hasn't Fudge returned? Didn't he tell you?" Wayne asked, surprised.
"Tell us? Bollocks!" Sirius supported the weakened Harry, voice thick with resentment. "Fudge came back and left immediately with all the Aurors and Ministry staff. Oh yes, and he had Crouch arrested."
Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement.
She, too, was furious with Fudge's behaviour, but now wasn't the time for complaints. Raising her wand, she shot red sparks into the sky.
Soon, Fawkes arrived with Dumbledore, accompanied by Snape.
Snape looked pale, clutching his left arm with evident unease.
"Harry, it's wonderful you're unharmed." Dumbledore nodded slightly upon seeing Harry battered but intact.
His expression became inscrutable when he turned to Wayne.
"Professor, Voldemort's returned," Harry blurted upon seeing Dumbledore. "Peter Pettigrew escaped too, and—"
"What?! That's impossible!" Sirius shouted incredulously as Professor McGonagall staggered back two steps.
"It's true." Harry paused to explain, but Dumbledore raised a hand to stop him.
"This isn't the place. My office—we'll hear everything from the beginning."
"Albus!" Though equally shocked, Professor McGonagall protested, "Potter's condition—"
"Some matters take precedence. I'll ensure he's cared for, but he must face this," Dumbledore said. "Minerva, Severus, oversee evacuating the stadium spectators. Sirius, inform the other professors that the search is over. We'll... confer tonight."
"Mr Lawrence, please accompany us as well."
With that, he disappeared with Harry.
Wayne gave Sirius a reassuring look before following.
...
The office.
Harry drank a potion to ease his physical and mental anguish before recounting events from his and Barty Jr's duel onwards.
He hesitated at the outset: "Professor, what happened to the real Moody? Oh, and Barty Jr..."
Harry said gloomily, "Voldemort killed him."
Did he hate Barty Jr? Certainly, there was resentment. But seeing him cast the Killing Curse at Voldemort had improved Harry's opinion somewhat.
"I've found the real Moody—Barty Jr had him hidden in a trunk in his office. As for Barty Jr..."
Dumbledore pondered briefly before Wayne interjected: "I'll explain everything to Crouch."
Harry nodded and continued his story.
The appearance of Peter Pettigrew, Fudge's capture, Voldemort's resurrection, Barty Crouch Jr and Wormtail's betrayal, followed by the emergence of two Voldemorts...
When he heard about Tom's appearance, Dumbledore's calm expression finally showed a flicker of emotion.
This was the first news he'd received since learning of seventeen-year-old Tom Riddle's resurrection.
"He admitted himself that he rescued Peter?"
"Yes."
"Voldemort wanted to kill him, correct?"
"Right. Riddle didn't seem to be a match for him, but he ran very fast, afraid that Wayne and you might come together."
Dumbledore turned his gaze to Wayne.
Wayne shook his head. "I didn't intervene. Thought it'd be good to let the two dogs fight each other."
Harry was full of questions. "You were there at that time?"
"Of course." Wayne smiled at him. "I arrived while Voldemort was still in the cauldron."
Harry wore an expression that screamed 'I've been had': "Wayne, why didn't you save me earlier then? I was nearly tortured to death by Voldemort."
Wayne patted his shoulder and said earnestly, "This was a rare opportunity. Not everyone gets to face off against Voldemort.
"With me watching, dying wouldn't have been easy."
Harry found this reasoning sound and didn't press further.
Just as Wayne said, this experience was indeed invaluable. When he cast that Flame Shield Charm, he felt everything suddenly become clearer, and casting other spells became much more effortless.
The rest of the story was simple: getting beaten up by Voldemort, then triggering the Priori Incantatem, until Wayne appeared for a sneak attack that blew off half of Voldemort's body.
Having recounted everything in one go, Harry leaned back in his chair to rest briefly.
Dumbledore silently processed the information before finally looking at Harry's wounds. "You've done more than enough tonight, Harry, far exceeding my expectations."
"Professor," Harry said somewhat sheepishly, "without Wayne, I wouldn't have made it back today."
Dumbledore shook his head slightly. "Courage is equally important. The bravery you displayed matches that of wizards who fought Voldemort to their deaths during his peak. That's outstanding enough. Moreover, you've mastered a high-level spell."
Dumbledore paused. "That Flame Shield Charm... did Wayne teach you?"
Harry shook his head blankly. "Mr G taught me."
Dumbledore's pupils contracted sharply as he saw Wayne giving him an apologetic smile, his heart lurching violently.
Just how many things was this bastard hiding from him!
"Alright, Harry, you should go to Madam Pomfrey now," Dumbledore began, ushering him out. "Don't worry about the rest. You've been through enough today."
Harry indeed felt his eyelids growing heavy and nodded. Fawkes flew to his shoulder, considerately transporting him directly with a flash.
Only Dumbledore and Wayne remained in the room.
"Mr Lawrence," the old Headmaster's voice carried exhaustion, "in the plan you shared with us, I don't recall any step involving taking Fudge along?
"Why do this? If Fudge had been endangered, Hogwarts would have been placed in an extremely precarious position.
"And what's this about Mr G?"
Dumbledore massaged his forehead, his wrinkles knitting together. "Grindelwald, when did he start contacting Harry? Why didn't you tell me?"
He couldn't decide which matter was more serious now.
Was it Fudge's safety, or Harry's physical and mental well-being?
Either way, both were rather difficult for him to accept.
Wayne, fearing he might send the old man straight into a grand adventure of the afterlife, patiently explained point by point.
"Taking Fudge to witness Voldemort's resurrection was indeed my spur-of-the-moment decision. Even Crouch didn't know about it."
"Oh, he's imprisoned now, but don't worry. Crouch will be released within three days at most."
Wayne silently mourned for the unjustly treated Crouch for approximately 0.3 seconds.
"Why?" Dumbledore maintained his composure. Had it been any ordinary troublemaker sitting across from him, he might have resorted to physical discipline by now.
Alas, when facing Wayne, he could only coax and flatter, not daring to speak harshly.
'If this boy gets upset and turns dark, I'll have nowhere left to cry about it...'