At present, though the wizarding world and Muggle society nominally kept to their own spheres, the reality was quite different.
Ever since the concept of nation-states emerged, both Muggles and wizards had instinctively categorised themselves accordingly.
Take the year Wayne first enrolled at Hogwarts—the major incident up north had spawned fourteen new Ministries of Magic overnight.
Yet this didn't mean the wizarding world's political structures mirrored Muggle ideologies so distinctly.
Even during that colossus's existence, from what Wayne understood, the northern magical community retained a semi-parliamentary electoral system like Britain's, largely unaffected.
But after witnessing the clash between Koldovstoretz and Durmstrang recently, Wayne sensed something amiss.
Those statements... were decidedly too radical.
Today, he aimed to investigate Koldovstoretz's true situation.
His choice of informant was deliberate.
Female students' penchant for gossip meant they often knew more, and it also gave him an excuse to get close.
What a waste it'd be not to leverage such a handsome face?
Moreover, Ksenia's surname was Romanov—an old aristocratic family long entrenched up north, rumoured to have ties to the former tsars.
Only from such diametrically opposed backgrounds could he extract genuinely useful intel.
Lately, Wayne had been subtly cultivating their rapport. Deeming the timing right, he'd invited her out today.
"Ksenia, you weren't present during that Koldovstoretz-Durmstrang altercation, were you?" Wayne began casually, downing a shot of whisky first.
As expected, Ksenia noticed nothing amiss. At his question, her flushed face immediately darkened with anger.
"No, I was consulting Professor Moody at the time. By the time I arrived, it was all over."
She smacked the table indignantly. "Had I been there, I'd have knocked a few more of them flat."
Wayne shook his head. "Ksenia, you're pure-blooded too. I'd have thought you'd side with Durmstrang and Slytherin."
Ksenia scoffed. "I'm not that narrow-minded, unlike those hidebound relics."
"Relics? Doesn't everyone think that way?" Wayne's interest piqued. Ksenia's current state—tipsy and candid—was perfect for questioning.
"That's precisely why I called them antiquated." Ksenia took a swig of whiskey:
"Professor Corvinus says that for the collective prosperity of the wizarding world, all witches and wizards should compete equally and strive to build a shared, prosperous society. It shouldn't be that ten per cent of wizards control ninety per cent of the resources."
"Just because it's been that way before, does that make it right?"
"The conflict between both sides keeps growing. One day it'll erupt completely, and no matter who wins, it'll be mutually destructive."
"As pure-bloods, we should have pure-blood pride. Truly powerful wizards prove themselves through ability, not wealth or connections."
As she spoke, Ksenia's eyes shone with admiration: "Our mentor teaches us fair competition. In today's Koldovstoretz, the capable rise and the incompetent fall. No one complains – this is the future of the wizarding world!"
"Sounds rather idealistic," Wayne remarked neutrally. "But do your elders at home support this?"
"Would they abandon their current status to compete fairly with ordinary wizards?"
"They're old fossils too." Ksenia pouted, downing another glass of whiskey. "Don't worry, the future of Mother Russia is ours. One day, we'll transform the Russian magical community and spread Professor Corvinus's philosophy to every nation."
Hiss.
Wayne hurriedly refilled her glass while inwardly drawing a sharp breath.
This... was even bigger than he'd imagined.
"Your mentor supports this idea?"
"Pretty much. Headmaster Katerina strongly agrees – she's half-blood herself and apparently suffered lots of discrimination growing up."
"The two of them are very close friends."
"Could you tell me more about this Professor Corvinus?" Wayne asked. "I heard he's your Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and quite young."
"Exactly! The professor's only twenty-six – a distinguished alumnus who only returned to teach last year."
"Twenty-six? What was he doing before that?"
"He was studying in the Muggle world, and even attended their university? That's what they call it, right?"
By this point, the girl's English had dissolved into slurred Russian. Knowing further questions were pointless, Wayne knocked Ksenia unconscious and returned her to her dorm.
Back in his own room, his two roommates snored thunderously. Wayne cast a Silencing Charm absently before settling into thought.
No question about it – Professor Corvinus was problematic. Deeply problematic.
Wayne suspected he was Tom in disguise.
Corvinus wasn't an exceptionally rare name, but Wayne knew too many secrets... knew what that name had once represented.
Corvinus Gaunt – an eighteenth-century Gaunt family member of unknown power, with even his birth and death dates obscured.
But he'd been the Chamber's guardian.
During his school years, Hogwarts was constructing an elaborate plumbing system.
Knowing the Chamber's existence, Corvinus concealed its entrance, transforming the mechanism from a simple trapdoor into the girls' lavatory plumbing.
He'd also hidden the Basilisk so thoroughly that it was never discovered.
The name. The ideology. The actions.
Taken together, these coincidences stopped looking coincidental – every detail reeked of suspicion.
Wayne suspected that Corvinus was actually Tom.
But according to Ksenia's description, Corvinus was a graduate of Koldovstoretz, and many knew of his existence and background, which left Wayne thoroughly puzzled.
He'd have to investigate when he had the time.
Preoccupied with these thoughts, Wayne pulled up the covers and gradually drifted into sleep.
That Russian woman could really hold her liquor—he'd nearly reached his limit.
...
Before they knew it, April had arrived, bringing with it the last holiday before Hogwarts' end-of-term exams.
On the final day of classes, the young witches and wizards immediately let loose, paying no mind to the mountain of homework assigned by their professors and diving straight into celebration.
Wayne surveyed the nearly two thousand people in the Great Hall with a sigh.
Once this term ended, students from other schools would return home, and he'd rarely encounter such a concentrated gathering of potential 'cash cows' again.
So... while they were still here and clearly had money to spare, he had to launch a gratitude event.
That evening, Wayne pulled Cho aside.
"I'm planning an event. Do you still have enough stock?"
Aside from gaming cards, Cho's skincare products were the bestsellers—except among the students from Uagadou.
After all, the dark-skinned girls had little use for whitening, spot-removing, or acne-treating products.
"I've got some left, but it might not be enough for an event," Cho calculated her inventory before replying.
"But since we've got these few days off, I could make more."
Wayne embraced her, inhaling the girl's sweet fragrance. "I'll have Gardevoir help you. Bear with it for now—while the students still have money, let's empty their pockets."
"Professor McGonagall mentioned that two weeks after the holiday, it'll be the last open day of the term."
Cho sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist. "It's truly in your blood—always scheming to drain your classmates' pockets."
"I'm doing them a favour," Wayne declared righteously. "Once they've spent all their money, they can focus entirely on their studies."
Cho couldn't help but laugh at his audacity. She pushed him away and went off to work with Gardevoir.
...
The next day, Wayne spread word of the event.
Aside from a 20% discount on Cho's cosmetics, the main attraction was the Magic Awakened tournament.
Competitive games thrived not just on playing but also on spectating—it kept the hype alive.
With limited time, Wayne couldn't organise a full league, so he settled for Hogwarts' First Annual Gaming Championship.
He also introduced duo battles.
There were two categories: singles and doubles. The champion's prize was 100 Galleons, the runner-up's 50, and the third place's 30.
All other participants would receive a ten-pack card bundle.
Coinciding with the first day of the holiday—when students were at their most energetic—the announcement drew crowds. The prize money sent everyone clamouring to sign up.
With hundreds registering, Wayne was overwhelmed. He'd intended to recruit the Weasley twins for help, but Cedric intercepted him.
"They're busy developing a new product. Let me handle this."
Cedric called upon his two roommates and several classmates to help with registration, while Wayne casually asked them to serve as referees later, simply recording the match outcomes.
Although everyone was volunteering without expecting payment, Wayne couldn't possibly give them nothing. He handed each person two Galleons as a token of appreciation.
Over at Cho's side, things were equally bustling. Many students from other schools, seeing the low prices, were preparing to buy in bulk to take home.
Most purchased eight or ten bottles each, quickly depleting the pitifully small stock.
Sakura and Tomoyo volunteered to handle the records, while Cho worked tirelessly inside the suitcase with Hermione and Astoria, rushing to meet demand.
The seven-day holiday passed in a flash, and Wayne found himself thoroughly enriched. Cho's sales exceeded a thousand Galleons, and the card packs brought in nearly the same amount.
On the final day of the break, the tournament reached the quarter-finals.
Several Headmasters and professors came to spectate, with Sirius Black constantly complaining to Wayne.
"Why can't I compete? None of these rookies stands a chance against me—oh, that includes Harry."
Wayne rolled his eyes. "You competing would be unfair. Who else has spent over a thousand Galleons just buying cards?"
While Wayne had cheated his way to max-level cards, Sirius had simply paid his way to a full collection. Letting him compete would have made the outcome a foregone conclusion.
With the audience growing too large, the semi-finals were moved to the Great Hall.
The chance to show off before such a crowd made the competitors even more excited. Though Ron and Harry had been eliminated early in the singles tournament, they fought their way to the doubles finals before narrowly losing to two Durmstrang students.
Still, Ron was thrilled.
Twenty-five Galleons in prize money—he'd never had so much in his life.
Harry didn't suggest giving his share to Ron, as that might come across as charity and strain their friendship.
This arrangement was perfect.
In the singles tournament, the finalists were Malfoy and a sixth-year Slytherin student.
Neither cared much about the prize money; it was the honour that mattered. In the end, Malfoy won by sheer luck, summoning two Blast-Ended Skrewt cards in succession to overwhelm his opponent.
As champion, Malfoy's smirk couldn't have been wider, his gaze drifting pointedly toward Harry.
But Harry and Ron were too preoccupied to pay him any mind.
With the tournament concluded, Wayne had effectively emptied the pockets of nearly every student.
The sheer amount he'd earned these past few days even made the other Headmasters envious. Snape's attention turned to the Niffler again after seeing Wayne stuffing Galleons into its pouch.
"Headmaster, how's that paper coming along?"
After watching the commotion, Wayne didn't forget his main task and approached Dumbledore just as he was about to leave.
"Paper? What paper?" Professor McGonagall asked suspiciously from the side.
Dumbledore quickly gave Wayne a meaningful look. "Mr Lawrence has written a paper to submit to The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers and asked me to review it."
If McGonagall found out he'd actually helped a student write their paper, neither of them would be leaving anytime today.
"Minerva, aren't those students running in the corridor over there? Perhaps you should investigate."
Professor McGonagall peered over and immediately stiffened. Indeed, there were students causing a ruckus in the hallway – Gryffindors, no less. She stormed off after them without hesitation.
Only after McGonagall had been successfully diverted did Dumbledore sigh in relief. "Wayne, couldn't you have found somewhere private to ask about this?"
"I was in a hurry," Wayne said with a smile. "The full moon is coming again soon, and Damocles will probably arrive any day now if there aren't any issues. If I don't have the paper ready, that old man will just lecture me again."
Dumbledore inwardly lamented. Being Headmaster was becoming increasingly frustrating – now he had to deal with being nagged about deadlines for ghostwriting academic papers.
"It's nearly finished. I'll polish it tonight, and then it can be published."
Wayne gave a thumbs up, secretly slipping the Resurrection Stone back to Dumbledore before leaving.
...
As he'd predicted, the day after the full moon, Damocles arrived at Hogwarts Castle with good news. The werewolves participating in the experiment had bathed in moonlight all night without any transformation, remaining completely human.
Wayne handed Damocles the paper Dumbledore had helped him prepare, for the old man to take back and publish. The elderly wizard flipped through a few pages and frowned.
"Mr Lawrence, why has your writing style changed for this paper?"
It felt strangely familiar, though he couldn't quite place where he'd seen such perfectly standard academic writing before.