In many ways, Wayne was actually quite generous.
With money, for instance, he didn't mind sharing his profits to expand the circle and bring capable people onto his side.
Or spells—he would occasionally reward the little badgers with spells he'd invented himself, and even shared some with Harry and Malfoy.
To him, these simple spells were just for fun, holding no strategic value.
But in other aspects, he could be extremely petty.
Take the upcoming tournament, for example.
If it were broadcast live, wouldn't the entire school get to see Fleur in a swimsuit? He absolutely wouldn't allow that.
Hmm... Sakura, Tomoyo, and Cassandra shouldn't be seen either.
In this world, only he should have the privilege of such a feast for the eyes.
If anyone was going to look, it should be on his private beach, building sandcastles and having water fights with the girls, while he admired the view...
Crouch silently watched the ever-changing expressions on the boy's face across from him.
He was speechless.
He'd thought Wayne had come for something important, but it turned out to be over such a trivial matter...
"Understood. I'll hand the equipment over to you after Christmas."
Crouch was, after all, the most competent elite employee—no matter how exasperated he felt, he would carry out Wayne's instructions meticulously.
He checked the time. "Will you be staying for lunch?"
"No." Wayne set down his cup and stood. "I've got plans with Penelope. You and Winky enjoy your meal."
With that, Wayne took out another box and placed it on the table. "A Christmas gift. Since you're here, I might as well give it to you now and save the owl another trip."
Before the words had fully faded, the young man's figure gradually grew faint until he vanished entirely.
Crouch hadn't expected Wayne to have prepared a gift for him.
Curious, he opened the box.
Inside lay a helmet and a letter.
After reading the letter, Crouch understood the helmet's purpose.
"The Pensieve, huh..."
His expression was complicated, as if recalling something.
Winky wisely didn't disturb him, silently exiting the room.
After a long while, Crouch pressed his wand to his temple, extracting strands of memories...
...
Meanwhile, Wayne arrived at the restaurant where he'd arranged to meet Penelope.
The Ministry of Magic was on holiday, and as an intern, Penelope didn't need to be on duty, leaving her with plenty of free time these days.
The only pity was that since she still lived with her parents, she couldn't stay with Wayne in the evenings.
But no matter - Young Master Lawrence had other senior girls to keep him company.
Over dinner, Penelope shared many amusing stories about her time at the Ministry.
Under Madam Greengrass's patronage, no one dared to boss her around despite her intern status. Nowadays, Penelope was handling work usually reserved for full-time employees.
By the time she graduated properly, she could join officially - perhaps even as a junior supervisor.
These few months had completely shattered Penelope's rose-tinted view of the Ministry.
Turns out the world really is just one giant makeshift stage.
In her mind, only true elites could work at the Ministry - decisive people with astonishing efficiency.
The reality had been eye-opening. Something as simple as applying for a Floo Network connection could take two days and require three reports. Buying a stapler needed four or five approvals.
Her daily workload mainly involved writing meaningless reports - matters that could be explained in a sentence or two stretched across entire parchments.
"Even if I only work three hours a day, my colleagues say I'm too diligent," Penelope complained. "They actually resent me for it, always trying to drag me into slacking off."
Wayne chuckled. "I'll wager over half of them are Hufflepuffs from our year."
Penelope looked at him in surprise. "How did you know?"
"Isn't it obvious?" The young man leaned back with absolute certainty. "After seven years at Hogwarts, any proper Hufflepuff would have mastered the art of slacking off."
The Ministry was essentially an iron rice bowl - you'd never get fired unless you made some colossal mistake.
With their laid-back nature, you couldn't expect badgers to distinguish themselves... but you'd never catch them making errors either.
Hence, most Ministry grassroots employees were Hufflepuffs, though very few ever climbed to senior positions.
After brief consideration, Penelope understood, torn between laughter and exasperation.
The most unremarkable house had quietly shaped the entire wizarding world's ecosystem without anyone noticing.
Truly impressive...
After dinner, Wayne accompanied Penelope shopping in Muggle department stores all afternoon, only seeing her home as the sun set.
Without a second's delay, he Apparated straight to Grace's flat.
The same cosy little apartment greeted him, the aroma of cooking filling the air the moment he entered.
Turning, he saw Grace busy in the kitchen.
Sensing his gaze, the senior girl turned with a radiant smile.
"You're here."
"Take a seat - the beef stew will be ready soon."
Wayne nodded but didn't move, remaining where he stood to watch her bustling figure.
There was no denying it - Grace had the best figure among all the girls.
The silhouette was practically the most perfect gourd shape in the world.
Though Nagini appeared more mature, she lacked that particular charm.
Wayne honestly couldn't tell that Grace, with such allure, had only graduated slightly over a year ago.
...
After dinner, Wayne didn't leave.
The two lay on the sofa like the most ordinary Muggle couple, with Grace nestled in Wayne's arms, watching "Sherlock Holmes" playing on the television.
The series had been running continuously for ten years now, the crown jewel of ITV's programming.
Wayne had watched it since childhood – it was genuinely classic, worthy of being called the most vivid portrayal of Sherlock Holmes.
Yet at this moment, he found himself rather distracted from the screen.
Grace was as pliant as a sponge in his arms, her form shifting with the slightest pressure.
A mingled fragrance of shampoo and shower gel rushed through his nostrils straight to his brain, making Wayne feel like he was turning into a furnace.
People truly were different.
Had he been holding someone petite like Astoria, he'd have been watching the show more attentively than anyone. But with Grace...
Noticing his discomfort, the senior's lips quirked upwards. Far from alarmed, she 'accidentally' squirmed slightly.
"Hiss..."
"Emilia, behave."
Wayne pushed her away slightly, pinching her cheek in mock annoyance before glancing at the camera on the coffee table. A thought struck him.
"You still haven't given me this year's Christmas present."
"I haven't taken the photos yet." Grace stretched lazily before settling back against Wayne's solid chest, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat.
She'd noticed how much he'd grown this past year – not just in height, but with more angular, masculine features.
Grace didn't know this was actually a hidden effect of starlight tempering.
Hearing there were no 'benefits' to be seen, Wayne frowned.
"It's almost the holidays. How can you not have taken them? Do it now."
Grace tilted her head up, suddenly climbing higher until their eyes met, close enough to count each other's eyelashes.
Warm, fragrant breath brushed the young man's face: "With such perfect timing, all you can think about is photos? Are you even a man?"
Password accepted.
Wayne's head spun, though a thread of rationality remained.
Grace's cheeks flushed pink. Seeing his hesitation, she nibbled his ear and whispered, "Those outfits you mentioned last time... they're in the wardrobe."
Any man who could resist now wouldn't be normal.
"Go change."
Grace shot him a coquettish glance before sashaying into the bedroom like a cat.
Wayne produced a vial of Ageing Potion, dripping several drops into his mouth. There – now he was a promising twenty-year-old youth.
Grace emerged fully 'armed' just in time to witness this, her expression peculiar.
"Wayne, you really don't need potions. I'd never laugh at you either way."
"What are you imagining? This is Ageing Potion."
Grace: "..."
...
One day... one night passed without incident.
At dawn beneath London's misty skies, Wayne opened his eyes, feeling slightly breathless.
Looking down, he found Grace clinging to him with an utterly graceless sleeping posture, having clearly adopted him as an oversized body pillow.
Last night, the two had engaged in a heated discussion about the Engorgement Charm and the Water-Making Spell. Grace felt Wayne's spells were too powerful but lacked speed in casting.
Wayne insisted he'd already been carefully restraining his magical power, but his innate talent simply made Grace look underpracticed.
Their debate raged until the very fabric of the path seemed worn away, before they finally shook hands and made peace.
Rubbing his slightly dazed head—perhaps a bit too vigorously—Wayne accidentally woke Grace, who asked groggily: "Why are you still here?"
Wayne: "..."
"Wait." He suddenly sat up, pretending to be annoyed as he pinched the girl's soft cheeks. "That tone makes it sound like you want me gone."
Grace gave a lazy smile.
With slightly husky amusement, she teased: "I'm just thinking of you. Tonight's Christmas Eve—the Yule Ball's happening. Shouldn't you go prepare?"
"If anything goes wrong, I'd hate to become a widow after just one happy night."
Wayne jolted fully awake at this.
Seeing his expression, Grace yawned: "Hurry back then. Visit me again when you're safe."
Suddenly sensing a shift, her expression changed as she looked at Wayne—the boy wore a mischievous grin:
"No rush. Morning exercise first."
"Don't..." Grace's protest came out as a coquettish gasp. Though her words spoke fear, she unconsciously leaned in...
...
The day passed without incident.
Wayne chewed on a piece of bread while letting Grace fasten all his buttons. Only when satisfied did she smile and give him a push.
"Alright, off you go."
"Mhm." After draining his milk, Wayne waved. "I'll visit in a couple of days."
With that, he Apparated away.
Silence reclaimed the room as Grace's smile gradually faded.
Sighing, she returned to bed, hugging the blankets to breathe in their lingering scent and warmth—finding unexpected comfort.
Last night had been rare these past years: a dreamless, profoundly restful sleep.
Of course, she wished Wayne wouldn't return to school.
But Grace knew that was a delusion.
She was just one tree, while that little rascal cultivated an entire forest at Hogwarts!
...
Meanwhile.
Wayne reappeared at the castle. Before reaching the common room, Fleur and Hermione intercepted him.
"Where were you yesterday?" Hermione chided. "We couldn't find you all night."
Wayne answered truthfully: "First met with Mr. Crouch, then had dinner with Penelope, afterwards visited Grace."
"Got too tired and late, so I slept at home."
He glanced guiltily at Fleur.
He'd promised the half-Veela she'd come first, yet here he was...
But quickly, Wayne rationalised:
Fleur's "first" had referred to ranking above Cho and Hermione—Grace was never mentioned. So technically, he'd kept his word.
"Just warn us next time."
Hermione accepted his explanation without further questions.
They'd sought him out to fetch them that afternoon—the girls planned to prepare in the suitcase world, emerging directly for the Yule Ball.
Wayne naturally had no objections.
...
At noon, Hogwarts provided a lavish lunch featuring a hundred turkeys, an enormous pile of puddings, and mountains of cookies.
Though the turkey was unpalatable, its mere presence whetted everyone's appetite.
The festive atmosphere had reached its peak, with the Great Hall adorned in all manner of Christmas decorations.
Dumbledore had fittingly swapped his hat for a red one, and with his long, splendid white beard, he could easily have passed for Father Christmas—if only he'd been a bit plumper.
In the afternoon, Wayne and his two roommates sneaked into the Forbidden Forest and spent the whole afternoon playing games.
Toby and Norman had now mastered the Charging Charm with great proficiency.
They'd even mapped out career plans.
If they couldn't find jobs after graduation, they'd collect drained batteries, recharge them, and resell them – guaranteed to make a fortune.
Around four o'clock, Hermione started urging everyone.
Wayne gazed at the sun still high in the sky. "The feast doesn't start until eight. Doesn't this seem too early?"
"What's the big deal?" Toby shrugged. "Hannah and Susan went back to their dorm to do their makeup right after lunch. Let's head back too."
After playing all afternoon, the two were tired and wanted to nap first.
Wayne parted ways with them and escorted the girls to the suitcase. On the first floor was a thirty-square-metre room housing Wayne's meticulously crafted bathroom, complete with dozens of bubble-spewing taps and an oversized bathtub.
The girls walked in chatting and laughing, with Wayne naturally following.
Only to be shooed out, with Gardevoir stationed at the door as guard.
"How stingy," Wayne grumbled. "It's not like I haven't seen it before. Washing separately just wastes water."
"Gardevoir!"
Gardevoir laughed heartily at her master's sulky expression.
...
By seven o'clock, the Common Room gradually filled up.
Everyone appeared in formal attire, instantly transforming the cosy space into something grand.
Yet the atmosphere felt slightly awkward, as most had never attended such formal occasions before.
The girls' dresses were a riot of colours, a veritable flower garden, while the boys stuck to tradition – mostly black, grey, or the more subdued navy blue.
As for white... let's just say this colour wasn't for everyone.
Toby and Norman's outfits were clearly from the same shop – brown woollen fabric with identical patterns.
Hannah and Susan eyed their dance partners curiously:
"Why do you two look so glum?"
Susan asked sharply, "Norman, do you think my dress is ugly?"
"Of course not," Norman said with survival instincts kicking in. "You look absolutely stunning today."
Susan nodded approvingly. "Then why the long face?"
Norman and Toby exchanged glances and sighed in unison. "You'll understand when you see Wayne. We've been completely outclassed."
The girls' eyes brightened considerably.
Right – they hadn't seen Wayne's formal wear yet.
As the most handsome boy in school – no, the most handsome they'd ever seen – he was bound to be even more dazzling in formal attire.
They didn't have to wait long before Wayne emerged from the dormitory.
Nearly every head turned his way. Girls who'd been clinging to their partners moments ago unconsciously dropped their arms, eyes fixed on Wayne with undisguised ardour.