Dumbledore originally intended to seek out Wayne the following day, so that they might journey together to the Gaunt shack before complications arose.
What troubled him was learning from the students that Wayne had already left the school.
In the entrance hall on the first floor, Dumbledore looked down at the girl before him. "Miss Granger, did Mr Lawrence mention when he'd return?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, he only said he was going to visit Mr Nicolas and Mr Scamander. He didn't give me any specifics. Professor, is it something urgent you need Wayne for?"
Dumbledore hesitated before admitting, "In a manner of speaking, yes. I'd like to see him as soon as possible."
Seeing how serious the Headmaster appeared, Hermione grasped the gravity of the situation.
"Wait just a moment—I can contact Wayne immediately."
With that, Hermione hurried up the staircase, Dumbledore following close behind. Upon reaching the Gryffindor common room entrance, she went inside and retrieved the communication book.
Soon, Wayne's handsome face appeared on the page, accompanied by his languid voice.
"Oh, Hermi, has it not even been a day since I left? Missing me already?"
Hermione's face flushed crimson instantly. "I-I'm not! It's... It's Professor Dumbledore who wants to speak with you."
"Hmm?" Wayne leaned back, allowing Hermione to see his surroundings.
She frowned slightly. "Are you outside?"
"I'm at Grace's place."
Hermione's lips pursed, though she knew this wasn't the time for that discussion, and handed the book to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore examined the communication book before smiling at the young man on the page. "A rather ingenious design, Mr Lawrence."
"Just some minor modifications to Nicolas's old toys," Wayne replied casually.
Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, Wayne asked curiously, "What did you need me for?"
His heart pounded slightly. Could the old man have discovered he'd taken Grindelwald to visit his office yesterday?
"I've discovered an interesting place and thought to invite you along," Dumbledore said succinctly, easing Wayne's tension.
"When?"
"As soon as possible."
Wayne considered. "Tomorrow I'm visiting Nicolas, then meeting Newt. How about the last day of the holidays?"
Dumbledore nodded slightly. "That will do. Do give them my regards."
"Of course."
After their conversation, Dumbledore returned the book to Hermione.
"Thank you for your assistance, Miss Granger."
"My pleasure, Professor."
With a faint smile, Dumbledore departed the tower. Even from a distance, he could still hear the girl's indignant questioning.
"What are you doing at Grace's house? I thought you were going to see Nicolas!"
Well, well, well.
Lawrence, your day of reckoning has come.
...
"Where does Dumbledore want to take you?"
After ending the call, Grace sidled up to him, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
"No idea," Wayne said uncertainly. He suspected it might involve a Horcrux, but which one remained unclear.
Grace merely hummed in acknowledgement, not pressing further, only insisting Wayne share any interesting developments upon his return.
At their core, Grace and Wayne were perfectly matched as kindred spirits—both revelled in chaos and spectacle.
Hearing Wayne recount the previous tournament events, Grace lamented missing the live spectacle, exclaiming her regret.
She insisted on attending the third match no matter what.
"By the way." Wayne took out a crystal vial. "A gift for you."
"But you already gave me a Christmas present?" Grace asked, puzzled.
"Just drink it and you'll understand." Wayne offered no explanation, merely urging her on.
The senior student gave him a coquettish glare before uncorking the vial without hesitation and downing the potion in one gulp, then frowned.
"So bitter."
"The best medicine tastes bitter," Wayne said expectantly, watching her as they waited for the potion to take effect.
Grace grew even more curious—what kind of potion was this?
Suddenly, she felt a wave of heat rush through her body, especially in her face, which burned alarmingly.
"Imagine you have a pig's snout," Wayne coaxed.
Grace couldn't help but picture the image in her mind—and then, her nose actually transformed into a pig's snout.
Wayne burst into laughter, grabbing the camera from the table and snapping several photos in quick succession.
He then conjured a small mirror and handed it to Grace so she could admire her current 'beauty.'
Staring at her reflection with a pig's snout, the senior couldn't help but laugh too, even letting out adorable little oinks.
"You're horrible," Grace said, instinctively pinching the soft flesh at Wayne's waist.
Amid the amusement, her shock was no less profound.
"Is this... a Metamorphmagus?" she asked after reverting to her original form.
"Exactly," Wayne nodded. "After drinking that potion, you're now a Metamorphmagus."
Grace still found it hard to believe. "But Tonks said Metamorphmagi are born with the ability—it can't be learned like regular Animagi."
"This potion was something I stumbled upon by chance. I don't even fully understand its effects," Wayne explained, feeling slightly awkward.
He had drawn another lottery during the holiday yesterday, and this potion was the golden reward from a hundred consecutive draws—capable of turning anyone who drank it into a Metamorphmagus.
It was undoubtedly rare and extraordinary.
But for him, it was practically useless.
He had already mastered Grindelwald's Human Transfiguration, which was no different from being a Metamorphmagus.
After some thought, he decided to give it away.
Wayne gently stroked Grace's hair. "While being a Metamorphmagus won't directly boost your combat strength, it'll make surveillance and reconnaissance missions much safer."
Like a child with a new toy, the senior eagerly experimented with her newfound ability.
By the end, she suddenly transformed into Penelope's appearance, pinning Wayne onto the sofa and looking down at him with a smirk.
"Now, I'm Penelope. Don't you want to do something?"
Wayne: "???"
Achoo!
On the other side of the city, Penelope, who was chatting with her parents at home, suddenly sneezed.
A green leaf drifted in through the window and landed on her head.
Penelope frowned in confusion.
In the middle of winter—where did such a vibrant green leaf come from?
...
Two days later, when the Ministry of Magic officially resumed work, Wayne finally escaped Grace's clutches.
The title "Mistress of a Thousand Faces" suited Grace perfectly—he hadn't seen her real appearance even once in those two days.
It was... unforgettable.
But he had paid dearly for it in stamina. Thankfully, his physical endurance was robust, or he might have truly embarrassed himself.
For the remainder of the holiday, Wayne stayed at Nicolas Flamel's home, occasionally visiting Dorset to share meals with Newt and Tina.
Nicolas kept dragging Wayne into research on the development of Command Seals.
Though, as he himself admitted, his talent in spellcraft wasn't on par with Wayne's, his six centuries of experience and insight more than compensated for it, providing invaluable assistance.
Over a week had passed, and Wayne had finally found a general approach, determining the correct direction.
On the last day at Nicolas's home...
In the laboratory, Wayne held a strange device resembling a stapler, pressing it against Nicolas's hand. The Philosopher's Stone atop the device gleamed brightly.
"It's rather hot," Nicolas remarked.
"Perfectly normal," Wayne replied without looking up, his focus unwavering.
"Done."
Five minutes later, Wayne removed the device, revealing a vivid red pattern now etched onto Nicolas's hand.
"Still not perfect."
Wayne shook his head in dissatisfaction. "The magical power inside is too unstable. If not used soon, it'll dissipate within days."
Nicolas chuckled. "Reaching this stage in just a few days is impressive enough. Come, let's test its power."
The two moved to the backyard garden, standing before an artificial rock formation.
Wayne took two steps back, giving Nicolas space.
The next moment, the Command Seal activated. Nicolas hissed as he raised his wand—"Diffindo!"
Boom!
A brilliant azure beam struck the rock, triggering a violent explosion that shattered it into countless fragments, sending dust billowing into the air.
Wayne waved his sleeve, summoning a gust of wind to disperse the dust before standing beside Nicolas.
"Are you alright?"
He glanced down at Nicolas's hand—the freshly inscribed Command Seal had vanished, replaced by a burn mark.
"I'm fine," Nicolas replied, also examining his injured hand. "The power is sufficient, but the activation method is too volatile."
Wayne retrieved one of Ho-Oh's tears and let a single drop fall onto the burn. The wound healed instantly. "I did warn you we're far from success. Yet you insisted on trying."
"Young man, you don't understand my perspective," Nicolas mused, unfazed.
"I've reached the pinnacle in alchemy and potions, but magic alone..." He trailed off, shaking his head before shooting the boy a mock glare. "A little prodigy like you wouldn't comprehend."
Wayne blinked at him innocently.
Was being strong a crime?
After restoring the rock formation, Wayne prepared to return to school. Nicolas didn't stop him, only reiterating that he must refine the Command Seals' creation method. He even handed over two Philosopher's Stones as research funding.
Wayne had figured it out—the old man suffered from an acute fear of insufficient firepower. Once the Command Seal was perfected, Nicolas would probably etch seventy or eighty onto his body, replenishing them with Stones as needed. In a game, he'd be the quintessential pay-to-win warrior.
...
After lunch, Wayne borrowed Nicolas's fireplace, travelling via the Floo Network to the Headmaster's Office.
Dumbledore, seated with a book, smiled as the boy stepped from the emerald flames. "I assumed you'd return tomorrow."
"I suddenly remembered I promised Astoria a fishing trip tomorrow," Wayne explained. "Professor, shall we go today instead?"
Naturally, Dumbledore didn't object. Retrieving the Horcrux a day earlier meant peace of mind sooner—he'd have preferred to go today anyway. If not for Wayne, he'd have long since... well, either perished or succeeded.
He stood up and gently stroked Fawkes, who was still sleeping on his perch.
"Time to wake up, Fawkes. We should be going."
Fawkes opened his eyes, chirped, flapped his wings, and finally settled on Wayne's shoulder.
The young man smiled shyly. "Headmaster, where are we going?"
Dumbledore: "..."
...
A burst of flame appeared suddenly on an empty country lane, revealing the figures of Wayne and Dumbledore by the roadside.
Seeing the signpost before them, a glimmer of understanding flashed in Wayne's eyes.
The signpost had two directional arrows, reading: Great Hangleton, five miles; Little Hangleton, one mile.
"Hmm... this way, I believe." Dumbledore also noticed the signpost and chose the direction towards Little Hangleton.
Wayne followed behind as they walked for a while, surrounded by tall shrubs on either side.
Dumbledore waved his wand, and the shrubs parted automatically, forming a shaded path.
As they travelled, he explained the purpose of their journey to Wayne.
"Although the Gaunt family's lineage has ended, given your extensive knowledge, you must be aware of them. They were direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin, the most traditional pure-blood family."
"To maintain their blood purity, they often practised inbreeding and rejected Hogwarts' principles. Very few of them attended Hogwarts."
"I've learned many secrets from a kind informant. Voldemort's mother was a descendant of the Gaunt family—Merope Gaunt."
"She fell in love with a Muggle, who was Voldemort's father, Tom Riddle Senior."
As they spoke, they arrived before a valley, where a village stood between two steep hills.
On the opposite hillside across the valley stood a dilapidated mansion.
"I suspect Voldemort hid a Horcrux in the former Gaunt family home. According to our agreement, I must bring you along to investigate."
"Understood." Wayne nodded and took out a golden wrist guard, strapping it on.
"What's this?" Dumbledore examined the wrist guard.
"Oh, just some protective measures." Wayne's expression remained unchanged. "When dealing with traps set by Voldemort, one can never be too careful."
"A wise approach." Dumbledore praised. "But with you and me here, I doubt he can stir up much trouble."
With that, he continued leading the way. They didn't enter the village but instead took a side path, turned right, and disappeared through a gap in the hedge.
The road here was narrower and more uneven, leading to a forest at its end.
At the boundary between the two stood a house completely overgrown with vines and moss, clearly long abandoned.
Dumbledore waved his wand again, and the vines retreated, revealing a rotting door.
Yet Wayne could still make out two intertwined snakes on the rusted surface.
"There's no magic on it," Wayne observed for a moment before stating confidently.
Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "That's typical of Tom. He wouldn't leave anything obvious here."
Despite his words, he still didn't push the door open by hand.
A gust of wind blew away the dust and swung the door open.
The two stepped inside. The room was thick with cobwebs. Wayne wrinkled his nose in distaste but didn't immediately act.
Dumbledore did the same, before finally turning to Wayne with a faint smile, as if testing him.
"You just want to slack off," Wayne grumbled, yet still conjured a fireball.
The fireball didn't fly towards the webs, but instead landed on the floor.
Strangely, the floor didn't catch fire. Instead, it melted like candle wax into liquid.
Wayne manipulated the liquid, enveloping all the cobwebs before flinging them out the window.
A table abruptly appeared in the room. On its surface lay only a single ugly black-stoned ring, resting there quietly.
As if... it had always been there.
Wayne activated his Meditation Technique at full power, his mind razor-focused. He didn't look at the ring, but instead at Dumbledore.
Yet Dumbledore wasn't looking at him. The old wizard was staring fixedly at the ring as if bewitched, his breathing growing ragged.
His hand reached out instinctively as his entire body lurched forward.
Wayne grinned shamelessly, raising his wand and pointing it squarely at Dumbledore!
He desperately wanted to shout at this moment.
"Dumbledore! Do you know how long I've waited for this day!"