As the enhancement concluded, since the Holy Grail was a system reward, its strengthened properties could now be displayed by the system.
[Resurrection Stone (True): Pseudo-divine artefact, formed by merging the Holy Grail's power with the Resurrection Stone (False).]
[Effect: Consumes vast magical power to retrieve a soul selected by the wielder across the barrier between life and death, binding it to an unbreakable contract of eternal loyalty.]
Pseudo-divine?
Wayne hadn't expected their combined power to break through limitations and reach the pseudo-divine tier.
Pseudo-divine or not, it still contained the word 'divine'.
No matter how legendary, humans remained merely human.
Fortunately, he'd chosen to enhance the Resurrection Stone with the Holy Grail's power rather than wish for a resurrection item outright. Otherwise, this wondrous reaction might never have occurred.
Wayne slipped the ring onto his finger, closing his eyes slightly as he envisioned Ariana's form.
He frequented the Hog's Head and had spoken with Ariana several times, developing a certain pity for the naive girl.
A tragic childhood, followed by an unexplained death.
At just fourteen—an age that should have been blooming like flowers—she'd ended up on the wall.
Even as a portrait, only the two Dumbledores could converse with her. Quite lonely indeed.
So whenever Wayne visited, he'd spend a few sickles' worth of time chatting with the girl.
Most crucially... Ariana was the pivotal figure who'd completely altered world history. In his estimation, her importance might even surpass Harry's.
If she could truly be revived... tsk, he'd have Dumbledore wrapped around his little finger!
And with Little Dumby under control, wouldn't Little Grin also become his to command?
Then he could wreak havoc across the entire magical world, with those two obediently cleaning up his messes.
Soon, the Resurrection Stone's dark glow flared anew as his magical power flooded into it like a bursting dam. The expenditure was so immense that even Wayne clicked his tongue in astonishment.
He could barely sustain it—anyone else would have been drained dry by now.
In less than half a minute, having consumed what felt like ten Snapes' worth of magic, he vaguely locked onto his target and began the retrieval.
'Death is but the next great adventure'—Wayne found himself unexpectedly comprehending this phrase now.
His consciousness seemed to arrive upon an ancient path stretching endlessly forward, where countless souls wandered aimlessly along the road, knowing neither their origin nor destination.
This couldn't truly be called an adventure. Perhaps only upon reaching the final destination could a new journey begin.
Yet most would remain forever lost upon this path.
Ariana's soul had dissipated nearly a century ago, drifting too far from the living world.
When his magical reserves dwindled to just two Snapes remaining, he'd barely retrieved two per cent.
Bloody exhausting.
This thought flashing through his mind, Wayne severed the magical connection and fell into a deep sleep.
The next day, after nearly twelve hours of sleep, Wayne awoke feeling strangely hollow.
Magical power's composition remained unclear—related to both physical stamina and mental energy, yet not entirely connected to either.
Wayne simply felt that something within him had been hollowed out, leaving profound discomfort.
Though his magical reserves had fully replenished thanks to various innate talents, that peculiar sensation refused to fade.
However, Wayne didn't dwell on it too much. He'd read about the symptoms of excessive magical power depletion in books—a few days' rest would suffice.
But next time, he wouldn't push himself so hard. He needed to leave some margin for himself.
...
Dining room.
As Wayne ate breakfast, the Daily Prophet unfolded itself before him.
His uncle Humphrey had once said that the second most boring invention in the world was plays satirising the government, while the most boring were plays praising it.
Clearly, the Daily Prophet in the wizarding world hadn't grasped this concept.
The front page featured a photo of him in Wizengamot robes, gavel in hand, accompanied by the headline: The Youngest Chief Warlock in History, A Bright Future for the Wizarding World.
No surprise there—his own publishing house always delivered such impartial assessments.
With him as Chief Warlock, how could the wizarding world's future not be dazzling?
The following pages included recruitment notices for the newly established Anti-Corruption Department and news of Fudge appointing Umbridge as Head of the Department of Magical Education.
As for Harry's acquittal? Not a single mention.
No one cared about underage wizards casting spells outside school. Even an advert for ultra-strength household stain remover would have been more interesting.
After breakfast, Nagini hurried off to Hogsmeade via the fireplace.
This time, she was opening two shops there at once—a branch of Celia Store and, unexpectedly, a couple's café.
Having seen Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop's cramped space and tacky decor, she deemed it utterly poor. Any regular establishment would easily outshine it.
Though Wayne suspected Nagini's real motive was to squeeze in more dates with him.
Before their Paris trip, she'd dragged him around every stylish café in London—and hotels too—under the guise of 'seeking inspiration'.
He saw right through her little scheme but played along, treating it as compensation.
With his limited time divided among several women, he owed each of them something.
...
After lazing around all morning, Wayne felt mostly recovered—and bored.
Hermione was at home revising for her O.W.L.s, Cho would have plenty of time once her father took office in a couple of days, and Penelope was still at the Ministry...
So he fetched Astoria instead.
They spent the entire afternoon holed up at home baking cakes for tonight's visit to 12 Grimmauld Place.
The pampered young lady had zero culinary skills, mostly making a mess. By the end, both their faces were smeared with cream and chocolate.
The wealthy girl closed her eyes and tilted her chin up, waiting for Wayne to clean her up.
The boy smirked coldly... and stuck out his tongue.
Tongue lash!
He was, after all, the man with the world's most dexterous tongue.
Giggling, the girl collapsed into his arms, refusing to budge.
"Wayne, your tongue is so nimble!"
"Practise more, and you'll get there too."
She was still too young, so Wayne didn't tease her further.
After some cuddling, they packed the cakes.
Hand in hand, they Apparated to Grimmauld Place.
Number twelve squeezed itself between eleven and thirteen. As Wayne approached, the front door swung open.
Lupin and Arthur were cleaning the portrait frames in the corridor when they spotted Wayne. Arthur flung his dirty rag into a bucket of water and jogged over with a smile.
"Our Chief Mage has arrived."
"Welcome, Wayne." Lupin also approached, greeting Wayne before nodding at Astoria.
"Hello, Miss Greengrass."
"Hello, Professor Lupin," the young lady replied politely.
Lupin chuckled awkwardly. "I'm no longer your professor. Call me Lupin, or Remus if you prefer."
"Very well, Mr Lupin."
The group chatted as they moved further inside.
In a spacious drawing room, quite a few people had already gathered.
Upon seeing Wayne, the twins who'd been fiddling with Extendable Ears Apparated beside him with a sharp pop.
"You're finally here, Wayne!"
"Master Lawrence!"
The twins were abruptly shoved aside as Kreacher came barrelling out from the kitchen, bowing so deeply before Wayne that his nose nearly touched the carpet.
"Your presence honours this household!" Kreacher said reverently. "Might Kreacher fetch you refreshments? We have lemon water, coffee, mead..."
"Just lemon water for me, and a glass of milk," Wayne replied casually. "Oh, this is my girlfriend, Greengrass."
Kreacher's bulbous eyes brightened as he bowed respectfully to Astoria.
"What a noble surname! Greetings, most honourable Miss Greengrass. Kreacher is at your service."
Nearby, Harry—who'd been helping Sirius arrange plates—wore a peculiar expression as he stared at his godfather...
"What?" Sirius asked, unnerved by the look.
"Is it just me... or does Wayne seem more like the master here than you?" Harry said curiously. Having lived here for some time, he knew exactly what kind of house-elf Kreacher was.
Kreacher found fault with Sirius at every turn—maintaining surface deference while dripping sarcasm. As for Harry himself, the half-blood might as well have been invisible.
Yet today, Kreacher's attitude towards Wayne was impeccable, making Harry wonder who truly held the house-elf's allegiance.
"Well, Wayne did the Black family a great service," Sirius said uncomfortably. Being disdained by his own house-elf was rather embarrassing, especially in front of Harry. "Kreacher's grateful to him. It's only natural."
He didn't mention the Horcrux, as Dumbledore had strictly forbidden disclosing that information. Fortunately, Harry didn't press further and resumed arranging the plates.
Wayne exchanged greetings with several acquaintances, including Kingsley Shacklebolt. Though there'd been minor unpleasantness before, Shacklebolt had merely been his tool against Scrimgeour at the time, making their interactions less than cordial.
Shacklebolt introduced someone new.
"This is Nymphadora Tonks. You can call her—"
"Bloody hell, Kingsley, think that's funny?" Tonks' hair flared crimson as she scowled.
"Language!" Shacklebolt said disapprovingly, but Tonks had already ignored him, boldly extending her hand to Wayne.
"Hello there, junior! I've heard your name so often it's practically worn out my ears. Finally meeting you today.
"I'm also a Hufflepuff graduate, though I'd just graduated when you started."
Wayne nodded: "I know. Grace mentions you often. Thank you for looking after her during Auror training."
At the mention of Grace, Tonks' eyes instantly took on a knowing look.
She pulled Wayne aside and asked quietly, "Where exactly has Grace gone? She passed her Auror tests with all Outstanding. When she resigned, Kingsley was upset for days, saying it was a waste of good talent."
"Even when I graduated, he never praised me like that."
Wayne squinted: "Didn't you fail Stealth and Tracking when you graduated?"
It was almost laughable. Despite having a humanoid Animagus ability that practically cheated the system, Tonks got full marks in Concealment and Disguise. Yet, her Stealth and Tracking were so poor she couldn't even reach Acceptable. No wonder it took her so long to pass the tests.
Tonks flushed: "Why does Emelia blab everything? That's not the point! The point is where she's gone."
"I don't know," Wayne shook his head gently.
"How's that possible?" Tonks looked unconvinced. "She's your girlfriend... well, one of them. How could you not know?"
Wayne said helplessly, "The last time we spoke was two weeks ago. She was in Persia then. Where she's gone recently, I truly don't know."
"Fine then." Seeing Wayne's sincerity, Tonks had to drop it. "Just when I finally had a friend to have fun with, she up and resigns."
"Auror work isn't child's play," Wayne told her. "What you should be doing is improving your skills. You might encounter Death Eaters any day."
Tonks glared at him: "Now you're lecturing your senior, are you? I could take down a hundred of you with one hand."
"You—" Tonks was about to transfigure a pig's head to scare Wayne when Molly's voice rang out:
"Children, everyone! Dinner's ready!"
Wayne made himself scarce. Not daring to cause trouble under Molly's watchful eye, Tonks obediently returned to her seat.
Nowadays, Mrs Weasley was the Phoenix's quartermaster-in-chief. Inside 12 Grimmauld Place, her word carried more weight than even Sirius's.