"Expelliarmus!"
Wayne swore this was the most joyful spell he'd cast in years.
In fact, his overwhelming delight gave him new insights into the already master-level Disarming Charm.
But that wasn't important right now.
An opportunity to openly thrash the Headmaster... such a chance came once in a thousand years!
Simultaneously, the newly worn bracelet on Wayne's wrist gleamed with metallic lustre.
He hadn't lied to the old man - it was indeed a protective device with multiple functions, including shielding, Dark Magic detection, and anti-ambush features.
He'd just forgotten to mention one particular function.
Recording.
Such a commemorative moment absolutely must be preserved for future generations.
The arm-thick spell tore through the air with such speed that it created sonic booms in the room, yet Dumbledore seemed completely unaware.
His eyes were fixated solely on that ugly ring on the table, desperate to obtain it at any cost.
Thud~!
When his fingertips were mere inches from the ring, the spell struck him.
Without surprise, the greatest white wizard of the century was effortlessly sent flying.
Dumbledore's body soared through the air, the tremendous impact slamming him against the wall before he slid down slowly.
"Calm yourself, Professor!" Wayne's smirk was practically curving into a Nike swoosh by now. While telling Dumbledore to calm down, his spells fired faster than his words.
"Move!" Dumbledore growled - a state Wayne had never witnessed in the old man before.
His eyes bloodshot, the Headmaster flicked his wrist, summoning the fallen Elder Wand back to his grasp.
Then, golden light erupted as several lightning bolts shot towards Wayne, their residual power alone cracking the floor.
The air froze. For the first time in who knew how many years, the century's greatest white wizard was fighting at full strength - perhaps not even that, given his compromised rationality.
Now completely bewitched by the ring's magic, Dumbledore's extensive knowledge and understanding of the Deathly Hallows only intensified his frenzy.
That was the Resurrection Stone - the lifeline that could resolve his greatest lifelong regret and obsession!
Consequently, the curse affected Dumbledore even more severely than it would an ordinary wizard.
Instead of retreating in fear, Wayne advanced joyfully. He stepped forward, sweeping his wand in a perfect arc.
A silver shield materialised, the lightning strikes clanging against it with metallic screeches.
"Professor Dumbledore! Don't fall for Voldemort's scheme!"
"It's just the Resurrection Stone - only useful for reviving the dead. What's so special about that? You must calm down!" Wayne shouted.
Merely deflecting the lightning Dumbledore had hastily conjured consumed more magical power than the combined attacks of those rabble during the World Cup!
His words only poured oil on the fire.
Dumbledore's azure eyes seemed to spark with fury, and seeing Wayne still reaching for the Resurrection Stone, he roared:
"Stop!"
The air itself radiated lethal intent as gleaming silver swords materialised from all directions. Flames coalesced mid-air, weaving between the blades, turning the frigid atmosphere scorching hot.
The Elder Wand trembled excitedly in Dumbledore's grasp, its glee so palpable even Wayne could sense it.
This ominous wand had never been fully unleashed since coming into Dumbledore's possession - rarely used for duels, let alone killing. Yet in Dumbledore's current frenzied state, it found perfect harmony.
Even now, after changing masters, the Elder Wand still willingly channelled Dumbledore's powerful spells.
Wayne swept his hand, transforming the conjured blades into useless iron balls that clattered to the ground. Walls of water surged from the earth, extinguishing the flames.
His wand retaliated with a brilliant beam that collided violently with Dumbledore's purple curse.
BOOM!
The house groaned in agony before crumbling to dust, the debris instantly scattered by residual shockwaves.
Dumbledore went flying again - this pure magical contest ending in his decisive defeat.
"Professor, calm down!"
BANG! BANG!
"I didn't take the Resurrection Stone, it's fake!"
BANG! BANG!
"Just say when you've recovered and I'll stop!"
BANG! BANG! BANG! THUD!
"Dumbledore! If you keep fighting back I'll get angry!"
BOOM!
"S-stop... cough... I'm... I'm fine now... no more... Lawrence!"
BOOM!
"..."
Wayne shook his head regretfully, reluctantly stowing his wand before beaming at the prone Dumbledore:
"Wonderful, Professor! You've finally come to your senses."
Staring at the bright sky, Dumbledore felt ten thousand alpacas stampeding through his mind.
He'd been lucid ages ago!
After the Gaunt shack collapsed, he'd regained clarity after just a few blows. But Wayne's onslaught came like a flash flood - leaving no breath for explanation, only frantic defence.
Had Wayne not paused when Dumbledore was knocked into a crater, he'd still be fighting.
Dumbledore tilted his head slightly, observing the youth's radiant smile that seemed genuinely pleased at his "recovery".
He was ninety-nine per cent certain the brat had done this deliberately!
The great Hogwarts Headmaster, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the white wizard who defeated Grindelwald, the only man Voldemort ever feared...
Beaten black and blue by his own student.
What stung most was Wayne resisting Voldemort's compulsion magic when he himself had...
For one shameful moment, murderous thoughts flickered through Dumbledore's mind...
Utterly humiliating...
"Professor, are you alright?" Wayne asked with apparent concern.
"I'm quite well, thank you." Dumbledore stood up, his once magnificent robes now tattered. With a flick of his wand, they returned to their original state.
However, this was merely a temporary fix through Transfiguration. The ruined garments would need discarding upon his return.
"Mr Lawrence, about what just happened..." Dumbledore trailed off.
"Don't worry." Wayne nodded earnestly. "I understand completely."
How perceptive.
Dumbledore's face broke into a kindly smile, but before he could voice his praise, Wayne continued:
"Rest assured, I've recorded everything. I'll make sure to watch it weekly to avoid making such elementary mistakes as you did."
Dumbledore's smile froze, his voice distorting: "You recorded it?"
Wayne remained silent, merely shaking the golden bracer on his wrist.
"Isn't that an anti-curse device?"
Wayne replied modestly: "The recording function is merely an insignificant secondary feature."
The recently suppressed murderous intent surged forth once more.
"You're incorrigible, child."
Dumbledore took a deep breath, forced a smile, and decisively changed the subject, beginning to search the room—no, the ruins—for the black gemstone ring.
Wayne was laughing hysterically inside.
This embarrassing moment would haunt Dumbledore for life!
Soon, beneath a shattered brick, Dumbledore found the ring.
Though prepared—the enchantments upon it could no longer affect him—Dumbledore's breathing still became slightly uneven.
"Wayne, you recognise this object too?"
Wayne nodded noncommittally.
"Considering how it affected you, and how closely the gem resembles the symbol drawn by Mr Grindelwald... what else could it be but the Resurrection Stone?"
"Indeed." Dumbledore's voice trembled. "That Voldemort would turn even the Resurrection Stone into a Horcrux... it seems he truly believes he's conquered death, rendering resurrection unnecessary."
Wayne observed: "Arrogant, obsessive—he always was convinced of his own exceptionalism."
Dumbledore's thoughts were elsewhere now. He nodded absently, his expression conflicted. After a long pause, he finally made his decision and turned to the young man:
"Wayne, I know you have... considerable acquisitive tendencies regarding magical artefacts. But... might you consider letting me have the Resurrection Stone?"
His manner was uncharacteristically humble, eyes brimming with desperate hope. "I'd exchange all my possessions for it. Name your terms—anything within my power to grant."
Under the old wizard's despondent gaze, Wayne shook his head.
"Professor, I'm afraid I can't give you the Resurrection Stone." Then the young man's tone shifted: "Though I might lend it to you."
The light returned to those dimmed eyes.
Of course.
Merely using the Stone would suffice—why must one possess it?
Suddenly, the world seemed brighter to Dumbledore, the air fresher, his rationality restored.
He examined the ring warily. His wand emitted silvery tendrils of smoke that turned black upon contact with the ring.
"There's a most terrible curse upon this," Dumbledore said gravely.
His expression grew complicated, shadowed by belated fear.
"Wayne... you've saved my life."...
"If not for the constraints of that vow, I might already be cursed and nearing my end."
"I merely wished to collect a few more meaningful artefacts for the Lawrence family."
Wayne gave a modest smile as he rummaged through his pockets. Soon, he retrieved an exquisite metal box, its surface intricately engraved with elaborate patterns.
The Resurrection Stone ring hovered mid-air as Wayne opened the box. Both men watched as the ring settled inside.
Click!
"Shall I take care of it?" Dumbledore asked softly. "That curse must be quite troublesome."
"You should have faith in my abilities." Wayne stood, tucking the box away.
"Besides, destroying Voldemort's soul without harming the Resurrection Stone... in this world, only Nicolas and I can accomplish that."
Dumbledore fell silent for a moment before nodding in agreement.
"Then you must be careful. Let me know if you encounter any difficulties."
"No problem."
Surveying the surrounding ruins, Dumbledore waved his wand, and piece by piece, the rubble returned to its original position. Within two minutes, the ruins had transformed back into the former Gaunt shack.
He'd even restored the previous traps.
"Shall we return to the castle?" Dumbledore asked after completing this. "Or do you have other places to visit?"
"Let's go back together." Wayne had finished his external affairs anyway. Even if he returned now, it would only be to discuss the Hardening Charm and Water-Making Spell with Grace.
However, to avoid angering certain jealous individuals at school, he dismissed this tempting idea.
Dumbledore summoned Fawkes, and Wayne looked at him with a peculiar expression.
"Haven't you forgotten something?"
"What?" Dumbledore blinked.
The young man's gaze lowered, settling on the uniquely shaped wand that resembled skeletal joints.
"During our earlier duel, I disarmed you. That wand must feel quite awkward to use now, shouldn't it?"
Such was the fickle nature of the Elder Wand - it would pledge allegiance to anyone who took it from its previous master, regardless of method... until another similarly wrested it away, perpetuating the cycle.
Dumbledore started, realising he had indeed forgotten. When casting the Repairing Charm earlier, he'd noticed some discomfort.
With a questioning look, Dumbledore studied the youth. "Wayne, are you truly not even slightly tempted by the Elder Wand?"
"Even I can't deny that it significantly enhances my magical power."
"Not at all," Wayne replied calmly, his gaze resting peacefully on his own wand. "The so-called most powerful wand is merely a branch casually broken off by Death."
"Someday, my wand will become the strongest existence."
Though spoken softly, Dumbledore sensed immense confidence beneath the composed tone. In response, Wayne's sycamore wand quivered slightly, as if answering its master.
With a relieved smile, Dumbledore handed the Elder Wand to Wayne.
The moment his fingers closed around it, Wayne felt his magical power surge violently within him, like a raging torrent desperate for release. With a cold snort, he suppressed the turbulent energy, and the Elder Wand stilled.
How absurd that an inanimate object thought to influence him.
Dumbledore extended his palm and murmured: "Expelliarmus!"
The red beam struck Wayne, but to Dumbledore's astonishment, the Elder Wand remained firmly in the young man's grasp.
Wayne gave him an exasperated look. "Did you skip lunch? Put some strength into it."
Dumbledore: "..."
Today's embarrassments were rapidly approaching his lifetime total.
"Your resistance to magic is this formidable?" Dumbledore asked, visibly unsettled.
Even with wandless magic, even deliberately restraining his power and using minimal force, there should have been some reaction.
Wayne shrugged. "Natural talent, I suppose. Try again - properly this time."
Having tempered his body with starlight daily for the past two years, he had long transcended the limits of humanity. Having slightly higher magical resistance was only natural.
Dumbledore cast the Disarming Charm once more.
This time, the magical power he unleashed rivalled that of an ordinary wizard wielding a wand for law enforcement.
Finally, with Wayne's deliberate cooperation, the Elder Wand spiralled back into Dumbledore's hand.
Wayne lowered his head, gazing at his empty hands, and sighed:
"To think... I could be defeated too..."
"Professor, as the first person to ever disarm me, I acknowledge you."
Dumbledore was rendered speechless yet again.
Must you be so dramatic!