Dumbledore gave a brief explanation.
Actually, all his information had been relayed to him by Snape.
Voldemort had been studying some sinister Dark Magic that wasn't yet fully mastered, hence the backlash.
Wayne nodded in understanding.
So the magic wasn't complete yet.
No wonder Voldemort looked like some creepy black shadow creature that gave people the chills at night.
"So, could you tell me what happened?" Dumbledore asked softly.
"Oh, it's quite simple, really." Wayne snapped out of his thoughts. "I ran into Voldemort and Tom by the Thames in the suburbs."
"Tom?" Dumbledore's heart skipped a beat. "You mean Tom met with Voldemort?"
"Mhm. The reason I went there was because I'd received advance information."
The old headmaster's eyes narrowed. "You have a mole close to Voldemort?"
"Well, yes, but they're useless. This was something I calculated myself. You could call it prophecy."
Dumbledore looked even more astonished. "You possess prophetic abilities, too?"
Wayne looked offended. "Professor, I've gotten full marks in Divination every year. I'm exceptionally talented at it."
Dumbledore couldn't bear to listen.
'Precisely because you got full marks is why I'm sceptical.'
Who doesn't know what Trelawney's like?
Rather than calling it a Divination final exam, it was more like a storytelling competition—whoever fabricated the most tragic tale got the highest marks.
"Please continue," Dumbledore said, changing the subject. "The two of them actually didn't immediately fight? What did they discuss?"
Wayne recounted everything he'd heard.
The eyes behind half-moon spectacles flickered constantly. When he heard Voldemort had actually accepted Tom's alliance proposal, his already suspended heart sank completely.
However, Wayne's final remark made him chuckle.
"What a shame you didn't invite me. If there's another opportunity like this, please do notify me in advance."
If he'd gone with Wayne that day, Voldemort would surely have believed Tom had truly become their ally.
Perhaps the two of them could've even captured one of them on the spot.
"Difficult now," Wayne shook his head regretfully. "Voldemort's cast magic on his own name—makes him hard to track. Tom's grown wary too, becoming increasingly elusive."
Dumbledore wasn't surprised. Even as young Tom Riddle, he'd been exceptionally cautious, maintaining a flawless façade at school that even former Headmaster Dippet had admired greatly.
"We'll see if fate brings another encounter," Wayne waved dismissively. "Professor, I actually wanted to ask—since Slytherin left behind his legacy..."
"What about Gryffindor and Hufflepuff? Did they leave anything?"
"Well..." Dumbledore pondered. "Wayne, though I'm Headmaster, there remain many secrets in this school unknown even to me."
"Take the Chamber of Secrets—had Tom not revealed it himself, I too might have dismissed it as mere legend."
"So you don't know?" Wayne sounded disappointed.
"Ah, regarding Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, I truly don't," Dumbledore's eyes glimmered with amusement.
"But Gryffindor..."
'Good, good. Finally caught you where I can press my advantage.'
'The tables have turned!'
"Headmaster," Wayne said calmly, "you wouldn't want me sending Harry to Nurmengard for advanced studies, would you?"
Dumbledore's smile vanished instantly.
If anyone else had said such words, Dumbledore would have dismissed them as nonsense. But Wayne... accomplishing this was even easier for him than passing wind.
"Wayne, aren't you the one begging me for help now?" The old headmaster was losing his composure. "How dare you threaten me?"
He'd finally found leverage over Wayne and wasn't about to relinquish it so easily.
"I'm not begging you at all," the youth retorted with a pout. "I deliberately sabotaged Tom and Voldemort's alliance, and today I came to help Harry hold the battlefield.
"If you won't show some appreciation for that, I might just turn to the dark side."
Dumbledore felt a sudden toothache—this boy was utterly impervious to reason.
He just wanted to see Wayne humbled for once. Why was that so difficult?
Alas, Young Master Lawrence was born with a silver spoon, destined never to fulfil this wish of his.
Under Wayne's unrelenting stare—that clearly said 'speak or you're not leaving today'—Dumbledore could only shake his head in resignation:
"I suppose I'm afraid of you."
"The Gryffindor legacy does exist, and I've obtained it."
Wayne perked up immediately, gesturing for him to stop beating around the bush.
"The Gryffindor legacy isn't at Hogwarts, but in Godric's Hollow," Dumbledore said leisurely. "That's where Godric was born, and where many famous wizards made their home."
"I discovered Godric's legacy when I was sixteen, hidden beneath the village war memorial."
"You found it at sixteen?" Wayne looked at him sceptically, phrasing his doubt carefully. "Then how come you're still... like this? Was the content perhaps too elementary?"
After over a century with Gryffindor's legacy, Dumbledore's current level seemed rather... underwhelming.
Voldemort discovered Slytherin's legacy after graduation and became world-renowned within a decade. The disparity was staggering.
Dumbledore's face darkened—he understood Wayne's implication perfectly.
The old wizard whistled, and Fawkes approached the window with a melodious song. After whispering to the Phoenix, the bird vanished in a burst of flame, reappearing two minutes later clutching a yellowed book in its talons.
"See for yourself."
Dumbledore tossed the book to Wayne.
Eagerly, Wayne flipped it open to find text written in Latin:
For thirty years, I roamed this world, fought in three hundred and fifteen duels, yet mastered but one swordsmanship art.
Before thirty, none in the valley could match my greatsword's might.
Before forty, none could rival my Goblin-wrought platinum blade.
Before fifty, unbound by weapons, all things became my sword—until I broke Salazar's ancestral relic in a duel.
Thus, I sheathed my blade forever, retiring to Hogwarts.
To the worthy inheritor of this art: study well. Wield wand in one hand, sword in the other, and uphold Gryffindor's glory.
What the bloody hell was this—Godric 'Seeking-Defeat' Gryffindor?
Wayne felt his brain short-circuit, flipping rapidly through pages filled with swordsmanship techniques, complete with numerous animated illustrations.
"So... the legacy you obtained was just a swordsmanship manual?"
"Indeed!"
Dumbledore barely suppressed his laughter, nodding solemnly. "These old bones can't learn such things. You're far more suited."
"I..." Wayne opened his mouth, itching to swear but ultimately letting out a long sigh instead.
"Gryffindor, you've got guts."
Dumbledore, having had his fill of amusement, left—leaving Wayne alone to agonise over the sword manual in his hands.
What bloody use was this thing?
Practising it? He'd probably never use it even once in eight hundred years. He was more accustomed to long-range bombardment.
Not practising it? Seemed a waste. The illustrations showed Gryffindor's swordsmanship had real substance—even depicting him effortlessly defeating wizards in duels with a blade.
Soon, Nagini returned from supervising the renovations of the new shop in Hogsmeade.
Noticing Wayne's conflicted expression, she curiously asked what was wrong.
After hearing his explanation, she nearly died laughing.
Who'd have thought a legendary archmage's proudest skill would be swordsmanship?
"Forget it." Wayne tucked the manual away. "I'll pass this on to someone more suited."
He planned to make copies for Harry and Neville, to see who might inherit Gryffindor's title as Sword Saint.
The criteria? Whichever could slay a Basilisk with a blade.
Nagini suddenly felt a chill down her neck. Puzzled, she rubbed at it but found nothing amiss.
...
By evening, as Wayne dined with Nagini, Crouch arrived after a gruelling day at the Ministry of Magic.
A single order from above had those below running ragged.
The bill Wayne submitted hadn't been drafted by him either—he'd enlisted the Lawrence family's legal team.
What major corporation didn't keep a pack of lawyers on retainer? Since they were idle anyway, might as well put them to work.
After briefing them on the wizarding world's specifics, Wayne would simply Obliviate them once the final draft was ready—an easy solution.
As compensation, however, their year-end bonuses would be doubled.
Such professionally crafted legal clauses were leagues beyond the Ministry's amateurish legislation.
All day, Bones and Crouch had pored over the document, yet much of it remained incomprehensible—forcing them to seek Wayne's help.
After some thought, Wayne said, "I'll take you to the law firm tomorrow. Ask whatever you need—just remember to erase their memories afterwards.
"Your Memory Charm's decent, yes?"
Crouch nodded. "I use it on Barty Jr. and Winky often. Only second to my Imperius Curse."
Nagini, quietly eating, twitched her lips.
'What kind of people were these...?'
After dinner, Nagini brought tea upstairs, leaving the dining room to the two men.
"I assume you grasp my intent. The Anti-Corruption Department will be crucial—it must wield absolute authority, staffed exclusively with our people."
Crouch solemnly agreed. "Understood."
Why was the Department of Magical Law Enforcement the Ministry's most powerful division?
The root lay in its executive privileges—granting it the right and means for coercive enforcement.
Even the Auror Office, ostensibly a subordinate department, had been split off to prevent its head from rivalling the Minister for Magic's authority.
Wayne's Anti-Corruption Department followed similar logic. It too held enforcement powers—but solely over Ministry personnel, a Sword of Damocles hanging over every official.
If it declared you guilty, you were guilty.
The Anti-Corruption Department was both legislator and executor.
Bones wouldn't compete with Crouch for the position of Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Shacklebolt from the Auror Office was practically one of their own, but he lacked seniority and posed no threat.
Apart from that, Crouch was the only one in the entire Ministry of Magic with both the qualifications and capability for the role.
"Do you have someone in mind for the Department of International Magical Cooperation?" This was the main purpose of Crouch's visit.
Every position had its successor. With him leaving, the vacancy in the cooperation department would naturally open up.
However, the Department of International Magical Cooperation's golden days were over. Its daily affairs weren't particularly demanding, making it far from a powerful department.
"My father-in-law, then." Wayne thought it over and decided to keep it in the family.
Although Mr Chang was a doting father who disliked him—never allowing Cho to stay overnight—who could blame him for being magnanimous?
Crouch wasn't surprised by this answer and took a sip of tea.
"Once the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is established, it'll need to make an example. Let's start with my father-in-law then." Wayne grinned. "Remember, no mercy."
Sputter!
Tea sprayed straight from Crouch's mouth.
"You're serious?" Crouch stared at the young man incredulously.
Wayne shrugged. "Yeah, just find some minor faults and make him work overtime. Keep him from going home too often—it interferes with my bonding time with Cho."
Crouch was utterly defeated.
He also felt profound sympathy for Mr Chang.
What sins had the man committed in a past life to deserve this torment?
Soon after, Crouch left. Wayne went upstairs and saw Nagini taking a bath, so he headed to the study alone.
Pressing two fingers to his brow, he gently pulled outward, drawing forth a sphere of golden light.
This was the essence of the Holy Grail—capable of granting a wish equivalent to the peak of legend.
After pondering for most of the summer, Wayne had finally made his decision.
He'd considered enhancing his comprehension or exchanging it for powerful equipment, but in the end, he chose to strengthen an item.
Gaunt's Ring floated out from his pocket.
The golden light and the ring pressed tightly together as Wayne made his wish.
"O Holy Grail, use all your power to strengthen the resurrection ability of the Resurrection Stone."
Light flooded the entire room as the two gradually merged.
As the golden glow dimmed, the ugly black gem began to emit a crystalline, dark radiance.
A sudden understanding dawned in Wayne's heart, and his lips curled into an irrepressible grin.
Numb!
He'd hit the jackpot!