McGonagall recounted the day's events in great detail, particularly the part about the wand selection.
Gradually, Dumbledore formed a general impression of this young wizard named Wayne Lawrence.
Orphaned, yet of noble lineage. With a Muggle high-ranking official for an uncle.
Unconventional in his ways, on his very first visit, he had brought gold to Gringotts to exchange for Galleons.
And most importantly, his talent was undeniable.
Upon coming into contact with the wand best suited to him, he had instinctively cast the Patronus Charm. Even with Dumbledore's vast knowledge and experience, he had never heard of such a thing.
"It seems we are about to welcome not only a prodigious student but a future celebrated alumnus."
Dumbledore was delighted, his snow-white beard twitching slightly.
"I do hope he's obedient," McGonagall said with some concern, recalling the questions Wayne had asked her at the Leaky Cauldron. "A pair of Weasley twins is already quite enough to give anyone a headache."
Dumbledore remarked unconcernedly. "Students ought to be lively—it's far preferable."
Whenever he encountered such vibrant young wizards, Dumbledore felt genuine warmth in his heart; these students were his most treasured possessions.
After exchanging a few more words, Professor McGonagall departed the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore promptly put Wayne's matter out of mind—he had far too many pressing concerns demanding his attention.
The Boy Who Lived was about to arrive at Hogwarts, as if guided by fate, and Voldemort, who had lain dormant for a decade, had resurfaced, setting his sights on the Philosopher's Stone.
The Philosopher's Stone had been deliberately borrowed from Nicolas Flamel, and the news of its presence had been leaked intentionally. It was bait.
Not only could it be used to test Harry, but it would also draw Voldemort's attention, allowing Dumbledore to observe his condition.
To ensure everything went smoothly, more thorough preparations were necessary.
With a sigh, Dumbledore pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet, its front-page headline covering the recent break-in at Gringotts.
...
"Accio teacup!"
Wayne lounged comfortably on the sofa, picking up his wand from the table and casting the spell. A teacup filled with red tea flew steadily out from the kitchen and landed in his hand.
Not a single drop spilt throughout the entire process.
After downing the tea in one go, Wayne set his wand aside and lightly tapped the cup twice. Water surged forth, refilling the cup to the brim.
According to the first rule of Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, food could not be conjured from nothing. Wayne hadn't created the tea out of thin air—he had simply used a Refilling Charm to 'summon' the tea from the pot in the kitchen into his cup.
"Non-verbal spells and wandless magic are somewhat manageable now, but only for simpler spells."
The Refilling Charm was a very basic spell, so he could perform it wandlessly, without even uttering the incantation.
But the Summoning Charm was far more difficult—a spell typically taught in the fourth year. For now, Wayne still couldn't manage it without a wand.
Wayne's magical prowess had long surpassed the standard of a first-year student—or rather, he had surpassed most young witches and wizards at Hogwarts.
Yet the deeper his understanding of magic grew, the more he realised its profound complexity.
Magic in the wizarding world was far too subjective—one might even call it the power of 'just believing'. It was all about wishful thinking.
A wizard's skill wasn't measured by how many spells they knew.
It depended on their depth of understanding of magic and their level of self-awareness.
At the very least, Wayne felt he was on par with Hermione from the original story—knowledgeable in many spells but lacking in true mastery, broad but not deep.
'Ah, why push myself so hard?' Wayne chuckled, shaking his head as he realised how impatient he'd been these past few days, eager to fully realise his potential overnight.
But in reality, he wasn't even a first-year student yet—at best, he was a prospective young wizard.
After finishing the tea in one gulp, Wayne got up and headed into the kitchen to prepare a simple dinner.
The household servants and cooks had been reassigned to other posts. While it granted him more freedom, handling three meals a day was a bit of a hassle.
Today marked the tenth day since he'd acquired the egg—by his calculations, it should hatch soon.
So after cooking, Wayne didn't eat in the dining room. Instead, he carried his plate back to his bedroom to keep watch, lest the little one emerge and couldn't find its mother.
'Wait—no, its father.'
Even after finishing his meal, the little creature showed no signs of hatching.
Resigned, Wayne stayed put, slumping over his desk in thought as he pondered which Hogwarts house would suit him best.
Slytherin was definitely out of the question. Even if the Sorting Hat suggested it, he wouldn't go. A Muggle-born little wizard like him entering Slytherin would be asking for trouble. To live comfortably there, he'd probably have to beat all the little snakes into submission like Voldemort did back in the day.
That would explode his points, but it was too much hassle. And it would easily draw old Dumbledore's attention.
Gryffindor wasn't a good choice either.
First, it was too close to Harry, basically meaning living under Dumbledore's surveillance with little freedom.
Second, Wayne himself wasn't keen on the Gryffindor way of doing things.
They called it courage and adventure, but honestly, it was just a bunch of rowdy brutes who strongly excluded anyone who didn't fit in. Take Hermione at the beginning, for example.
'We're all happily causing mischief and being attention-seekers, and here you are studying hard—what's your problem?'
Moreover, Gryffindor placed extreme importance on collective honour. Even Harry got side-eyed and subjected to cold treatment when he lost points for the house.
On one hand, they were the biggest troublemakers in the school, and on the other, they craved collective accolades like the House Cup the most.
What kind of ultimate contradiction was that? Wayne had no interest in suffering like that.
That left only Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Which one would be better?
Crack!
Crack!
The crisp sound of cracking eggshells snapped Wayne out of his thoughts, and he quickly looked up.
Carefully lifting the Pokémon Egg out, he placed it on a soft velvet cushion, his eyes brimming with anticipation.
What he wanted most, of course, were adorable Pokémon like Gardevoir, Sylveon, or Meloetta.
Not that he'd complain about getting Rayquaza or Kyurem either.
Crack!
The top half of the eggshell split apart completely, revealing the little one inside. Wayne leaned in, then his eyes widened.
"Is this... a Fearow?"
"Chirp!"