After leaving Knockturn Alley, Wayne didn't head home. Instead, he boarded a train bound for Dorset.
He had already made arrangements with Newt and Tina before the holidays.
This Christmas, he would spend it with them.
This left Madame Perenelle in Paris, who had been eagerly awaiting his visit, quite displeased. Last night, during a video call with Nicolas, he had to expend considerable effort to placate the elderly lady.
He also promised to appear at the Parisian manor by the third day after New Year's.
Gazing at the scenery flashing past the window, Wayne sighed.
This was the drawback of Apparition—one needed vivid memories of a place to perform it. He had never been to Dorset before, let alone formed any strong impressions of it.
There was no choice but to take the train like an ordinary person.
By the time he arrived at the manor gates, it was already four in the afternoon.
Placing his hand on the tightly shut gates, a unique mark appeared, and the doors swung open automatically.
Wayne strode in as if returning to his own home, without waiting for his hosts' response. Feigning politeness at this point would only have annoyed Newt and Tina.
The manor spanned a vast area—at least thirty acres—with most of it comprising the rear gardens. Passing through the front garden brought one to the villa's entrance.
Newt stood there, watching Wayne approach while admiring the scenery, and asked with a smile: "What do you think?"
Wayne nodded appreciatively. "Much prettier than the place in New York. That one was far too cramped."
"Couldn't be helped," Newt sighed, leading Wayne inside. "Property prices in New York are exorbitant. We've always wanted to move somewhere with better surroundings, but our earnings simply can't keep up with the rising costs."
"That's easily solved," Wayne chuckled. "I own several decent properties in New York. Later, let Grandma Tina pick one she likes."
Newt immediately opened his mouth to refuse, but the young man interrupted him with rapid spellcasting.
"This isn't for you—it's for Grandma Tina. Unlike you, the social recluse, she has many friends visiting regularly. A more spacious home is necessary."
"You do have a way with words," came an amused voice. Wayne and Newt had entered the drawing room, where Tina sat in the host's chair, smiling warmly at Wayne. Beside her stood a freckled, brown-haired youth.
"You mustn't refuse. It'd be terribly embarrassing if my gift were rejected."
Wayne teased, leaving Newt behind as he went to sit beside Tina, eyeing curiously the youth who had lowered his head since his arrival.
"And this is?"
"Come now, Rolf, greet our guest," Tina said, pulling the freckled boy forward to face Wayne. "This is Newt and my grandson, Rolf Scamander. He'll be starting at Hogwarts next year."
"You two should get to know each other in advance."
Wayne suddenly understood and extended his hand. "Hello, I'm Wayne Lawrence."
Rolf kept his head lowered as he slowly offered his own hand. "H-hello, I'm Rolf Scamander. Grandpa and Grandma often mention you."
Wayne shook his hand, noticing the child's palms were sweating from nervousness.
Wayne couldn't help but look at Newt.
"Why are you looking at me?" Newt seemed baffled.
"Were you this socially awkward back then, too?"
"Of course not." Newt shook his head. Just as Wayne's face showed disbelief, he added: "I'm still like this now."
"And you're proud of that?" Tina glared at her husband. "I told you not to be the one raising him. Look at Rolf..."
"Now, don't be upset," Wayne quickly interrupted Tina. It wouldn't be appropriate to discuss this in front of the child.
"Rolf's personality probably comes from having few childhood friends. Once he's at school surrounded by peers, he should improve significantly."
Tina's expression softened slightly. "Let's hope so. Wayne, I'll need you to look after him at school to prevent him from experiencing what Newt went through."
Despite Newt's current high status as Hufflepuff's iconic figure...
During his own school days, he had been seen as an oddball by others – if not outright bullied, at least consistently isolated.
Tina naturally didn't want her grandson to suffer similar hardships.
So when Rolf's parents wanted to take him travelling again, Tina insisted he stay behind, specifically arranging for him to meet Wayne beforehand.
Such a small request was something Wayne agreed to without hesitation.
"Don't worry, I'm quite popular at school – everyone gives me face," Wayne said proudly. "After all, I'm a perfectly normal Hufflepuff, excellent at making friends."
Newt: "..."
'I feel like you're taking a dig at me.'
Wayne then looked at the bowing Rolf: "No need to be nervous. Hufflepuffs are very friendly. If anyone's unfriendly, just tell me and I'll have a word with them."
"Sooner or later, you'll become very lively too."
"Actually..." Tina couldn't help interjecting, "Wayne, my Rolf's talents are rather... ordinary. Being too lively might not be good. Just normal is fine."
Clearly, she understood that Wayne's definition of "lively" differed from most people's.
The reason Wayne thrived so effortlessly...
Strength, talent and social skills were all indispensable.
He had enemies, but far more friends.
The professors' favouritism and the support of his fellow badgers gave him free rein within the school. For Rolf to reach such a position would be nearly impossible.
"Indeed," Newt quickly added. "We're asking you to look after Rolf, not to be his protector. Don't go corrupting him."
The last thing he wanted was their little introvert turning into a little tyrant.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Wayne pouted, feeling wronged.
How could anyone learn bad habits from him?
They made him sound like one of those Slytherin bullies.
Rolf stole glances at Wayne, genuinely curious about this often-mentioned senior.
Whenever his grandparents spoke of Wayne, their praise was effusive – though their styles of praise differed completely.
Having met him today, Rolf found this senior wasn't quite what he'd imagined a Hufflepuff to be.
...
After acquiring a new junior, Wayne was taken by Newt to the back garden, where he saw the famous trio of Kneazles.
Newt and Tina publicly claimed they'd retired quietly to Dorset with just three Kneazles for company.
This was essentially telling the world: "Newt doesn't have all those troublesome magical creatures anymore, you can rest easy."
After all, in some ways, the damage he'd once caused to certain cities rivalled Grindelwald's...
To avoid further trouble, he had to project harmlessness.
Of course, this was just for public consumption.
Should anyone truly believe Newt had become a feeble old man... well, they'd be in for surprise after surprise.
Tina went to prepare the Christmas feast while Rolf tended to the Bowtruckles suffering from colds.
Alone in the garden with Wayne, Newt could finally broach more stimulating topics.
"You didn't bring the case?" Newt asked softly, eyeing the empty-handed youth.
"Left it with a senior. I'll retrieve it after the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship."
Wayne scattered the fish food in his hand into the pond. The manor was enchanted with a Warming Charm, which maintained a spring-like weather year-round. Occasionally, a pair of twin-tailed fish leapt from the water's surface.
Newt frowned, his sensitive nature detecting something amiss.
Yet seeing Wayne's calm expression, he chose not to press further.
"By the way," Wayne suddenly said, "Nagini recovered not long ago."
"That's wonderful." Newt smiled. "Has the curse completely vanished?"
"Indeed. She's in excellent condition now. The time she spent as a beast halted the drain on her lifespan—still a great beauty."
"A blessing in disguise, then." Newt murmured, "Is she at Hogwarts now?"
"Mhm, inside the case, learning some basic spells from Gardevoir."
Having been born under the blood curse, Nagini had never received proper magical education, living a fugitive's life to evade wizards who coveted her status as a Maledictus.
Though the curse was lifted, transforming into a serpent had become instinctive—an innate Animagus, so to speak.
In that form, Nagini's combat prowess was nothing to scoff at.
At close range, she could take down Snape with one bite.
Still, mastering conventional methods was crucial. Wayne knew Nagini remained deeply averse to her serpent form.
If she could avoid using it, she would.
"Right now, the Headmaster doesn't know Nagini exists..." Wayne stroked his palm, smirking. "Senior, I'll let you claim this tremendous credit."
Newt slowly turned his gaze from the pond to the youth beside him, disbelief and shock written across his face.
Credit?
...Wasn't this just saddling him with the blame?
"Wayne," Newt said, voice strained, "I'm nearly a hundred years old..."
"Age is just a number." Wayne chuckled. "It's not illegal. The Headmaster won't interrogate an old friend too harshly—don't worry."
Easy for you to say. Why don't you step forward yourself?
Newt grumbled internally but quietly shouldered the burden. Aside from the questionable origins of Wayne's information, there truly wouldn't be any trouble.
Unless...
Studying the boy, he couldn't resist warning, "Wayne, Nagini has suffered enough. Don't bully her too much."
"What are you imagining?" Wayne looked at him, baffled. "Is this how you regard a Hufflepuff?"
Newt choked.
"You're... a new breed of Hufflepuff. Can't generalise."
Newt could sense Wayne was treading the same path Grindelwald and Dumbledore once had—yet his methods differed from both.
The magical world's landscape would inevitably shift because of him, and upheaval was certain.
Clashes between emerging interest groups and established powers were unavoidable. By the time Wayne and his circle graduated, these tensions would surface.
This wasn't about justice—only position.
Some were destined to stand at the pinnacle from birth.
Grindelwald was such. Dumbledore was such. And in the future, Wayne would be such.
When Hufflepuffs united, just how formidable would their strength become? No one knew the answer to this question, and few cared. But soon enough, the world would bear witness.
"Enough," Wayne said, patting Newt on the shoulder as the latter fell into thought. "Senior, you said it yourself—you're nearly a hundred years old. Don't trouble yourself with so much."
Newt's aged face darkened.
'Now I'm suddenly too old for you.'
"You little brat, don't expect me to send anyone to Azkaban to rescue you later."
"Azkaban?" Wayne let out a mocking laugh, its meaning unclear.
He raised both hands, and the water in the pond suddenly stirred violently, coalescing into an enormous sphere that floated mid-air, casting a shadow over nearly the entire estate.
Newt could even see the Kelpie trapped inside, thrashing about in agitation.
His lips went dry.
Though it was called a pond, due to the Undetectable Extension Charm, its actual size and volume were closer to half that of the Black Lake.
To achieve such an effect with just a wave of his hand—and through wandless magic, no less...
Who in the entire wizarding world could accomplish this, aside from Dumbledore?
Newt believed that, in terms of sheer power, Dumbledore still surpassed the current Wayne.
But the mere fact that Wayne could be compared to Dumbledore was an extraordinary feat in itself.
And Wayne... was only in his second year.
"Azkaban would struggle to hold me," Wayne said calmly, his eyes glinting. "Now, Nurmengard... that might have a chance."
Newt slowly lowered his head and muttered, "If you ever do end up in Nurmengard, remember to say hello to Grindelwald for me."
Wayne: "..."
Are you sure you mean "hello" and not outright provocation?
...
After returning the poor creatures in the pond to their rightful place, Newt and Wayne headed to the kitchen to see if they could assist Tina.
They were promptly shooed out. According to Tina, the kitchen was her battlefield, and she wasn't so frail as to need anyone's help.
"Tina's just too proud," Newt said with a resigned smile. "Back when I suggested bringing in a House-elf to handle chores, she ignored me for a whole week."
"She's a woman who captured Grindelwald. Of course she's proud," Wayne waved a hand dismissively. "Let's just wait for the food."
"Senior, have you been to Beauxbatons?"
"Twice," Newt nodded slightly. "Just as enchanting as Hogwarts, but with a completely different style."
"That's not what I meant," Wayne waggled his eyebrows. "Tell me about the local specialities."
Newt's eyelid twitched.
"You're there for the tournament, not to stock up. Can't you behave?"
Wayne argued righteously, "I just want to give all the adorable creatures in the world a home. What's wrong with that?"
Unable to withstand his relentless pestering, Newt finally relented and revealed a magical creature that fit Wayne's interests.
"That would be a Pyrenean speciality—the Pixie-Sprite."
"Legend says they're the offspring of pixies and Veela. About the same size as pixies, but far more enchanting and beautiful due to their Veela heritage. Their wings even glow."
"They sleep on flower petals, feed on morning dew, and can make plants more fragrant."
Wayne perked up.
"Where can I find them?"
"You can find them in the valley behind Beauxbatons, though they're quite rare," Newt couldn't help reminding him. "If you do find any, don't take too many. You'll get caught."
"Don't worry." Wayne nodded obediently. "I definitely won't take them all."
Newt opened his mouth.
It eventually turned into a resigned sigh.
'Hmm?'
Newt glanced at a mirror displaying the scene outside the manor—several owls carrying a large crate were circling the entrance, unable to find their way in.
"Did Tina buy something?" Newt asked in surprise.
"Oh, that might be my delivery." Wayne stood up and headed for the door, with Newt following.
"What did you buy?"
"A new pet. Could you look after it for me temporarily until I get my case back?"
Five minutes later.
Staring at the black-and-white ball rolling around the courtyard, Newt said flatly: "This is what you call a pet?"
"Cute, isn't it?" Wayne beamed. "Took a lot of effort to get it."
"Cute is cute." Newt nodded as well.
No one could resist the allure of a national treasure, but...
"Those flowers were carefully nurtured by Tina; you'll have to explain to her later. I can't save you."