Late at night, Dumbledore emerged from the tower, his face visibly crestfallen.
Had he never glimpsed the light, he might have endured the darkness.
According to Grindelwald's deductions, if Dumbledore's claims held true, then that Phoenix possessed unimaginable power.
Perhaps those who had just died, their souls not yet departed from this world, could truly be brought back to life.
But Ariana was different. She had been gone too long—no trace of her remained in this world.
Soul, body, life essence—all were indispensable.
With a sigh, he cast an immensely powerful protective charm over the tower to prevent unwanted disturbances to Grindelwald.
Then, Dumbledore vanished on the spot.
Through the narrow window, Grindelwald watched his retreating figure, lost in thought.
"Wayne Lawrence..."
Had it been decades earlier, Grindelwald might have felt a flicker of curiosity, enough to seek out this young wizard Dumbledore praised so highly.
And to see that Phoenix for himself.
But now, the remainder of his life held little prospect of change.
Each additional day was merely atonement for past sins. It was precisely for this reason that Dumbledore could speak freely of Wayne without fear of Grindelwald taking an interest in him.
...
Christmas morning.
Countless people awoke from pleasant dreams, their first act to glance beside their beds.
Owls always delivered gifts to wizards' homes undetected.
Snape was no exception.
Unlike previous years, Snape had not returned home for Christmas but remained at the school.
Because Potter was there.
As long as Potter remained at Hogwarts, so would he.
These days, his mood has improved. With the castle nearly empty and the absence of that detestable Lawrence, he could focus wholeheartedly on tormenting Potter, deducting another dozen points from Gryffindor. Only the anger in those beautiful eyes made him somewhat displeased.
In the luxurious quarters provided for professors, the floor was already covered with gifts. Most were from Slytherin students—basic trinkets, stationery, or sweets.
A small portion came from other potioneers he had dealings with.
A glance revealed only potion ingredients, none of which were the lost recipes he coveted.
Hmm?
Snape's gaze sharpened.
A square package bore a label with Lawrence's name. Lawrence, of all people, had sent him a Christmas gift? He fell silent for a few seconds before drawing his wand.
Caution was necessary—he couldn't risk tarnishing his reputation in his later years.
After layering no fewer than a dozen protective charms against hexes, he finally unwrapped the outer packaging.
The moment he saw the gift, Snape's breathing grew ragged. Two thumb-sized crystal vials were filled with Ho-Oh's tears. Wait—why was there a card?
Snape picked it up and read the words.
IOU: Today, Wayne Lawrence lends Severus Snape two vials of Ho-Oh's tears. Within the next six months, the recipient shall return three vials of Felix Felicis (3oz), three vials of Potential Elixir (12oz), etc...
In case of dispute, return the items to the lender, and this IOU shall be deemed void.
He read it three times before setting the card down. A relieved smile—no, not a chance!
'Lawrence, you absolute—'
'Two measly vials, and you're trying to bleed me dry.'
Three vials of Felix Felicis and three of Potential Elixir alone would fetch ten thousand Galleons.
And then that endless list of less valuable but staggeringly numerous items...
His hands trembled.
If Wayne were standing before him now, he'd greet him with the most powerful Laceration Curse he'd ever cast.
Pity the brat was off in America.
Even in the UK, he felt the urge to pay a visit. While he could still win a fight, if he didn't teach them a lesson now, it would be too late. But after much hesitation, Snape tucked away the IOU.
"Never mind, consider it practice."
Gradually, the once-arrogant Head of Slytherin House had learned to console himself. So what if it was potions? He was a Potions Master, after all. Given enough time, he could brew as many as he wanted.
Having finally calmed down, Snape continued unwrapping gifts—only to fly into a rage again.
Upon seeing a full crate containing twelve whole bottles of 'Potter's Hair Tonic', he let out a shrill, furious roar.
"Potter! You're done for!"
"Not even Dumbledore can save you now! Mark my words!"
...
"Achoo!"
Wrapped in a blanket and eagerly unpacking presents in his dormitory, Harry sneezed.
Completely unaware of what awaited him next year.
This was the first time he'd ever received so many Christmas gifts. Back at the Dursleys', the best he could hope for was Dudley's cast-off sweets.
This year, they'd been relatively kind, enclosing fifty pence with their letter. Seeing Ron's interest in Muggle money, Harry had simply given it to him. He'd also received a gift from Wayne—a set of flying broomstick maintenance tools, incredibly practical.
"What's this?"
Harry opened the last parcel, and a silvery, liquid-like fabric slithered onto the floor.
"Wow," Ron whispered, leaning in after finishing his unwrapping. "An Invisibility Cloak. Who sent you this? It's priceless."
"No idea." Harry shook his head, picking up the cloak, only for a note to flutter out.
Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A very Merry Christmas to you.
Harry stared blankly at the words.
...
In the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore, freshly returned from Nurmengard, unwrapped two parcels. Reading the accompanying notes, he chuckled.
Wayne had sent him a large bundle of yarn and an instructional book on knitting socks, featuring dozens of different patterns.
There were also two other gifts for him to pass on.
"Fawkes, this is from Wayne." He placed a bundle of herbs beside the Phoenix's cage. Fawkes let out a delighted cry before pecking at them eagerly.
"And this one's for you, Sorting Hat," Dumbledore mused. "This must be your first Christmas present in a thousand years, no?"
A seam split open along the brim. "A gift? From that little rascal Lawrence?"
"A set of leather-care tools. Perfect for you."
"Brilliant! I thought he'd forgotten." The Sorting Hat was overjoyed.
That scamp kept his word—not that there'd been any doubt. Being sorted into Hufflepuff was fine; the Sorting Hat's judgment could never be wrong.
"Quick, Dumbledore, try them out! I could use a bit of pampering."
"Certainly, though I should read the instructions first."
...
New York.
8 a.m., and Wayne woke up right on time.
Unfortunately, since he was in the U.S., there were no Christmas gifts by his bedside.
All his presents had been sent to his home in London.
Not being able to experience the thrill of unboxing them immediately left him slightly disappointed.
He wondered if the others were pleased with the gifts he'd prepared. Coming up with them had required quite a bit of mental effort.
For Hermione, it was a set of Lockhart's books. Given that the fraud was highly likely to be teaching at the school next term, this gift would not only save Hermione some money but also align with her interests.
For Cho, Wayne had procured a magical photograph of the Tutshill Tornados team, complete with autographs and personalised well-wishes from every player.
Cho had always been a die-hard fan of the team, and to obtain this photo, Wayne had enlisted Russel's help. His family held shares in the Tornados.
These pure-blood families always managed to provide unexpected conveniences.
Additionally, he gifted each girl a protective pendant and an Apparition ring to ensure their safety.
Lately, Wayne had made significant progress in Alchemy. The protective pendant could cast the Shield Charm five times, while the Apparition ring allowed the user to Apparate three times.
Faced with danger, one could either defend or flee—utterly foolproof.
Cedric received a Tornados autograph, Hannah an Eastern cookbook, and his roommates some Invigoration Draughts...
All in all, Wayne felt he'd put considerable thought into the gifts. He'd also prepared presents for the professors.
For Professor McGonagall, a transfigured pig showcased his recent progress in Transfiguration. The music box for Professor Flitwick was enchanted purely through spells.
As for his own Head of House, Wayne gifted a potted Mandrake.
Currying favour with the professors also helped cement his image as a well-behaved student.
"Wayne, come down for dinner!" Newt's voice echoed up the staircase.
Responding, Wayne leapt off his bed and hurried downstairs.
No sooner had he sat down than Jerry clambered out of his pocket.
Watching the Niffler struggle to move, Newt exclaimed, "How much has it taken from you? It can barely walk!"
"Not much," Wayne said dismissively. "Just a few Galleons. I let Jerry carry them for me."
Observing closely, Newt—with his extensive experience raising Nifflers—suspected this "few" was hardly a small amount.
"Merry Christmas, dear." Tina handed Wayne a notebook, gazing at him affectionately. "These are some tips from my days as an Auror, along with a few original spells. I hope they'll be useful."
"Thank you, Grandma Tina."
Wayne didn't refuse. Though the gift was precious, since Tina had offered it, she genuinely wanted him to have it. Declining would only strain their bond.
Sure enough, seeing Wayne accept so readily deepened the elderly woman's smile. This was the mark of true closeness.
She turned to Newt, giving him a pointed look.
Newt hesitated. "Er, Tina, it's only a prototype. I planned to give it to Wayne before he left."
Tina frowned. "It's ready enough. Let Wayne refine the rest himself—it'll give him a sense of involvement and practise his spellwork."
"Alright then." Seeing her point, Newt nodded. "Eat up, Wayne. Later, I'll show you your gift."
Wayne murmured an acknowledgement, inwardly thrilled. He had his suspicions but dared not draw any conclusions without seeing it firsthand. No counting chickens before they hatch.
After breakfast, Tina went next door for tea with Queenie, while Newt led Wayne to the study.
Newt's study was unlike most people's—there weren't many books, but it was filled with all sorts of little creatures.
They were magical beasts with various health issues, which Newt would treat before releasing them back into the basement.
On the desk, there were no other items except for a single suitcase.
"Want to take a look inside?" Newt opened the case with an inviting gesture, and Wayne eagerly climbed in.
Descending the steps, he entered a dimly lit room that was completely empty.
Wayne surveyed the layout—just three bedrooms, two living rooms, and two bathrooms.
After letting him admire the space, Newt led him back out of the house.
The area wasn't particularly large. Compared to Newt's basement, Wayne's eyesight was sharp enough to see everything at a glance.
Black drapes surrounded the space, as deep and impenetrable as the darkest night. The diameter was no more than ten miles.
A third of it was a lake, while the rest was soft grass and soil, leaving it feeling somewhat barren.
Newt stood beside him and said softly with a smile, "Originally, this case was meant as a gift for Rolf—oh, that's mine and Tina's grandson—for when he starts school."
"But in your letter, you mentioned the trouble of not being able to take the Unicorn with you during the holidays. I thought this gift would suit you better."
"As for Rolf, he won't be starting school for another two years, so there's no rush."
"Though the timing was a bit tight, and I haven't fully prepared everything inside yet."
Newt pointed at the patch of soil. "That area should be a forest. If you have special needs, you can even change the weather to marshland."
"As for how to operate it, I've written detailed notes and left them in the room. You can read them later at your leisure."
Wayne never imagined that Newt would give him such a precious case as a Christmas gift—all because of a few hints he'd dropped earlier.
But Wayne had only meant to give Newt a heads-up, making it easier to bring up the topic when he visited.
He was at a loss for words.
Should he say Newt was too kind-hearted, or that his guard was too low? After all, this was their first time meeting.
What he didn't know was that Newt had only had a vague idea at first.
Without having met or truly understood Wayne, Newt wouldn't have gifted him the case that represented the Scamander legacy.
It wasn't until they met in person and Newt sensed the same aura in Wayne that he made the decision.
Their views and methods for caring for magical creatures weren't identical, but it was enough.
"Senior, this gift is too generous."
Now it was Wayne's turn to feel embarrassed—he'd been judging a gentleman's heart with his own petty measure.
"Don't say that. In the end, it's just a tool," Newt said magnanimously. "If possible, in the future, if you encounter endangered magical creatures, you can keep them in the case. If you don't like them, just send them to me."
"I will," Wayne promised solemnly.
From today onward, he too had a harem—no, a Sage's Artefact—of his own!
"But you must also be careful," Newt suddenly grew hesitant again. "What I mean is… be mindful of your safety and others'."
"Make sure to lock the case properly and don't let the creatures run loose."
"You should know—I was expelled from school because a Jarvey endangered students' lives."
Wayne blinked.
Wasn't that just taking the fall for your sister-in-law?
However, Wayne didn't voice his thoughts. Such matters were likely classified, and as a Muggle-born young wizard, he had no channels to access this information.
After reiterating some precautions, Newt and the boy began arranging the suitcase. Their first task was transplanting saplings from the basement.
As an all-around magizoologist, Newt possessed remarkable expertise in Herbology, rivalling even his own Head of House.
His accomplishments extended to Potions as well:
Managing so many creatures on the rooftop—from feeding and cleaning to medical care—required Newt's constant attention, making him a true hexagonal warrior.
Their current project involved constructing a complete ecosystem within the suitcase to accommodate magical creatures.
Fortunately, being wizards rather than ordinary folk, they worked with great efficiency, though the process proved rather tedious.
With Newt being the taciturn type who focused solely on the task at hand, Wayne took it upon himself to initiate conversation, asking curiously: "Senior, I read in 'History of Magic' that you played a decisive role in the final duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald. Could you tell me about that battle?"