Returning to the castle, classes had been cancelled for the afternoon due to the tournament. Wayne planned to continue his intensive study of the Dragon King's inheritance.
He'd realised his inability to create perfect Command Seals stemmed from insufficient understanding of magical power. The Dragon King's knowledge about energy conversion and expenditure had become his current focus.
Before reaching his dormitory, however, an exuberant Sirius dragged him away, Harry in tow, insisting they celebrate Harry's first-place finish at the Three Broomsticks.
Unable to refuse, Wayne found himself in Hogsmeade.
Entering the pub, they took a small table near the fireplace. Harry seemed momentarily dazed - this was where he'd overheard Fudge and the professors' conversation, mistakenly believing Sirius had killed his father.
Unaware of Harry's expression, Sirius finished ordering before smiling at Wayne:
"Shame we're so busy today, otherwise I'd have definitely invited Madam Rosmerta to join us for a chat."
"She was particularly fond of me when I was still in school."
"Without me, James and Remus would never have gotten to drink so much fine wine."
Wayne curled his lip. "Don't kid yourself. She probably just liked your generous spending. You were the Black Family's young master after all. Any tavern owner would've favoured you."
Sirius flushed slightly. "You little brat, spouting such blunt truths."
Harry snapped out of his thoughts and chuckled, prompting Sirius to ruffle his hair in mock annoyance.
Soon, a waiter arrived with drinks and food. Wayne frowned slightly upon seeing the order.
"Why four glasses? Did you invite someone else?"
"Remus—ah, there he is! Over here!"
Mid-sentence, Sirius spotted a somewhat weary figure entering through the door.
Lupin noticed them too, weaving between tables before settling down with the trio.
"Long time no see, Wayne. Harry."
Both greeted him in return.
"Harry, your performance earlier was excellent," Lupin said after taking a large gulp of Toadstool, then added warmly,
"Especially those two spells against the merpeople. Truly brilliant."
Harry demurred, "All credit to my teacher. I'm still not very proficient yet."
Assuming Harry meant Wayne as his instructor, neither pressed further.
The group continued eating and chatting.
The conversation naturally turned to Lupin's work.
"Has Borgin acquired anything interesting lately?" Wayne asked.
Lupin was currently employed as a curse-breaker and enforcer at Borgin and Burkes – the legitimate kind.
He only intervened during tomb excavations or dangerous field operations, never getting involved in disputes between the shop and its customers.
Hearing Wayne's question, Lupin set down his fork and shook his head. "I've been rather idle recently. Borgin's been preoccupied with dealing with the Rosier family, so my services aren't needed. Still getting my regular wages though, just no performance bonuses."
Sirius became intrigued. "I thought the Borgins and Rosiers were on decent terms? What caused the falling out?"
"No idea, and I don't particularly care." Lupin took a sip before continuing, "But Borgin's gone all out this time – about a third of the Dark Artefacts in the shop have disappeared."
"Probably all deployed against the Rosiers."
"Do find out the details for me when you're back. Whatever the reason, they're really going at each other's throats."
Sirius chuckled gleefully – he always enjoyed stories about pure-blood families turning on each other.
"If it's about the Rosiers... I might know what's going on," Wayne said with a peculiar expression, drawing everyone's attention.
Harry, equally fascinated by wizarding family feuds, listened intently.
Wayne recounted Grace and Borgin's earlier misadventure, though he omitted mentioning the details, such as Magick Moste Evile, simply describing it as the tomb of a particularly powerful Dark Wizard.
Still, he hadn't expected Borgin to wait this long for revenge.
That was some serious procrastination.
When he finished, Sirius said with schadenfreude, "The Rosiers always preferred underhanded tactics, and they're compulsive gamblers."
"After backing the wrong side last time, I thought they'd lie low for a while. Never imagined they'd cross Borgin."
"That old man's no pushover. Serves them right."
Lupin looked up. "Sirius, wasn't your mother from the Rosier family?"
"Indeed," Sirius nodded. "She maintained close ties with them until her death. Means nothing to me now."
"Well... if I told you your grandfather might already be dead..." Lupin watched Sirius's expression carefully.
"Christophe's gone too?" Sirius froze momentarily before grinning wider.
"Brilliant! That old bastard kept calling me a bastard and the Black Family's disgrace. Even sent me a howler after I got out of Azkaban. Good riddance."
Harry's mouth twitched, unsure whether to laugh.
His godfather was quite the filial grandson.
Seeing Sirius genuinely unaffected, Lupin relaxed and shared the Rosiers' current situation.
Seven or eight miscellaneous family members had died, with only two of their generation unaccounted for.
These two happened to be the Rosiers' most powerful members.
Both former Death Eaters, they'd avoided prison using the same methods as Lucius Malfoy.
Currently, Borgin was tracking them down.
Leaving roots untouched would only bring future misfortune. Since he'd chosen revenge, Borgin had to ensure the complete annihilation of the British branch of the Rosier family.
After dinner, Lupin returned to Grimmauld Place via the Floo Network.
Before leaving, Wayne tugged his sleeve and whispered, "Come back to school soon for more potion trials."
Lupin's face twisted in discomfort at the memory of being treated like a lab rat.
Wayne smirked. "Relax, I think we're close to a breakthrough. Two more sessions at most. But if you'd rather keep having monthly 'visits' like a woman, suit yourself."
Lupin struggled internally before finally agreeing.
...
After he left, Wayne, Sirius and Harry exited the pub and returned to the castle.
That evening, Wayne was playing magical chess with Hannah when the Fat Friar floated over.
"Lawrence, come with me for a moment."
Puzzled, Wayne followed him to the staircase.
"What's wrong, Fat Friar?"
The ghost studied him with an odd look, making Wayne squirm.
"Seriously, what is it?" Wayne pressed.
"The Grey Lady asked me to pass a message. Meet her at the Astronomy Tower at midnight. Don't be late." The Fat Friar's voice dropped to a whisper. "Tell no one—especially not the Bloody Baron."
He glanced around nervously. "The Baron's her obsessive admirer. If he finds out you're meeting her privately, you're in deep trouble."
Wayne's eye twitched. "Fat Friar, it's strictly academic. We're discussing serious scholarly matters."
"Of course, of course." The Friar winked knowingly. "That's exactly what I told the nuns, too—we were just debating scripture in the chapel. Holy Mother Mary, those nuns were... spirited."
He sighed nostalgically.
Wayne's eyelid spasmed. "Is that why you were burned at the stake?"
"Certainly not!" the Friar huffed. "Such things were commonplace back then—probably still are!"
He shook a spectral fist. "It was my rivals' doing! I was curing parishioners of smallpox and even found rabbits to feed my fellow clergy."
"And they accused me of being a wizard?!"
Wayne deadpanned. "...But you are one."
"Well, yes, but they shouldn't have jumped to conclusions! At least let me become a cardinal before reporting me!"
Wayne blinked. So the Fat Friar had been that high-ranking? A cardinal was second only to the Pope. Had he succeeded, it would've been the Church's biggest scandal.
...
After enduring more of the Friar's grievances, Wayne finally excused himself.
Back in his dorm, he pondered the Grey Lady's summons.
Last time, he'd failed to extract useful information from her and had... inquired about her father. Since then, their interactions—well, between a living person and a ghost—had been nonexistent.
Could she want Ravenclaw's Diadem back?
Wayne shook his head. Though the Grey Lady wasn't the brightest, she wouldn't stoop to that.
No point overthinking it. Even if she hadn't reached out, he'd have sought her out soon enough.
He always felt that drinking Felix Felicis like diesel wasn't the correct way to use Ravenclaw's Diadem.
...
Midnight, twelve o'clock.
Wayne arrived punctually at the Astronomy Tower.
The Grey Lady had been waiting there long before, gazing up at the moon in her flowing white robes, possessing an eerie sort of beauty.
In terms of looks alone, Helena was indeed quite striking. Pity about the lack of brains.
"You've come," a calm voice drifted over as Wayne moved to stand beside her. "What did you want to see me about, Grey Lady?"
The moon above was nearly full - it seemed he'd need to call Lupin over for potion testing soon.
"Since you already know my true identity, you may call me Helena."
Helena turned her head, speaking airily, "I've thought long about the question you asked, yet still have no answer."
Wayne was baffled. "What question? About the Diadem?"
Helena looked annoyed. "About my father!"
"Oh." Understanding dawned. "That. Lady Helena, I was merely making conversation. No need to take it so seriously."
"This isn't about you." Helena floated higher. "It's a question I've always wanted answered. My mother never once mentioned who my father was."
"Even... before you asked, I'd never considered the question."
"I suspect Mother used suggestion magic to make me subconsciously overlook it."
Hmm?
Now Wayne was interested. There must be some juicy gossip here.
But...
"Why come to me then?"
"I want to uncover the truth," Helena said firmly. "You're the most remarkable young wizard I've met - you'll surely surpass Dumbledore one day. If anyone can help me, it's you."
"Sorry, my time's precious." Wayne shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't help with historical mysteries."
He enjoyed gossip, but not the legwork.
After nearly a thousand years, he had no interest in playing "Where's Daddy?" with Helena.
"I can offer payment." Unfazed by rejection, she continued.
Wayne sounded bored. "What's your offer then?"
"My mother's notes."
"Helping others is a Hufflepuff tradition," Wayne said solemnly. "Lady Helena, I'll help solve your mystery."
Helena's chest heaved with anger at his sudden change, the massive scar faintly visible.
Wayne only glanced five, six, seven... eight times before looking away.
"That you were sorted into Hufflepuff proves the Sorting Hat's blindness." Helena snorted, floating off.
"Come. I'll give you the payment first."
Following behind, Wayne asked curiously, "Aren't you afraid I'll take it and renege?"
"Then I'll tell Dumbledore. Tell every ghost. Spread your story everywhere."
Helena gave him a sidelong glance. "The tale of Lawrence the Oathbreaker would live forever. Generations of young wizards would grow up hearing it. Hufflepuff would be shamed because of you."
Wayne grimaced. "That's harsh."
Helena's lips curled slightly. "Otherwise, how would I dare to give you the reward in advance?"
"But I can't guarantee I'll find the answer. If you go around spreading rumours regardless, this deal is off."
"I understand, but you must show me results."
"Agreed."
The two headed towards Ravenclaw Tower, encountering a few young wizards out for a midnight stroll along the way. Wayne cast a Disillusionment Charm to conceal their presence.
The Fat Friar had a point—Tomoyo's issue still needed resolving. If rumours started circulating about him and a ghost on top of that, life would become unbearable.
"Ravenclaw's notes are in the common room?" Wayne asked doubtfully.
"Yes. I only recently remembered. Ghosts have rather poor memories—we only retain what we consider important."
"Hah, no wonder you're academically weak. You don't consider such treasures important?"
"What's a treasure to you is a burden to me."
"Since childhood, Mother forced knowledge upon me. Whether I could grasp it or not, she believed the world should only consist of clever people."
Wayne fell silent at this.
Ravenclaw's knowledge... a burden?
Now that was some pretentious talk.
...
Upon reaching the Ravenclaw common room entrance, Helena glided effortlessly through the wall while Wayne found himself detained once more by the bronze eagle door knocker.
"Outsider young wizard, answer my question."
The eagle spoke: "Formless and shadowless, ever by my side; silent yet guiding."
Wayne looked at it in confusion. "The question's so simple today?"
"Please answer," the eagle ignored him, repeating mechanically.
"Wisdom," Wayne replied without hesitation.
The eagle folded its wings, and the door swung open automatically.
Wayne stepped inside, expecting the common room to be empty at this hour. To his surprise, a familiar figure sat on the sofa beneath the candlelight, reading leisurely.
"Luna, why aren't you asleep so late?"
The girl looked up, equally surprised to see Wayne here, and answered softly, "Couldn't sleep, so I came to read the latest issue of The Quibbler."
Wayne patted her head. "Since it's such a coincidence, come with me later. I happen to need a hugging pillow tonight."
Luna nodded obediently.
Helena watched their interaction calmly, her eyes filled with disdain.
What a scoundrel!