Two minutes later, Dumbledore appeared in the Headmaster's Office looking completely bewildered.
He had been reading peacefully in the Minister for Magic's office when suddenly a massive bird flew out and swept him into a whirlwind of flames.
When he regained his senses, he found himself in this familiar old place.
"Old Headmaster." Wayne enthusiastically helped the confused Dumbledore to the main seat and made him sit down.
"I've discovered there's still so much to learn from you about handling school affairs..."
Even the cunning old White Lord couldn't resist Lawrence's schemes, and soon found himself helping reply to letters in a daze.
By the time everything was finished, three or four hours had passed, and Dumbledore's hands were sore from the work.
He looked at Wayne speechlessly. "Why should I handle the paperwork you've accumulated?"
"Because when I get angry, I don't want to deal with anything." Wayne spread his hands like a little bear. "It's better for you to bear some hardship than for the school to fall into chaos, right?"
Dumbledore sighed deeply, finding himself completely helpless against him.
After adjusting his mindset, the old Headmaster began carefully observing Wayne again, trying to discern what changes might have occurred during his long absence.
Wayne understood Dumbledore's thoughts and smiled slightly, allowing a fraction of his extraordinary radiance to emanate.
Dumbledore's pupils contracted sharply.
The magical power within him grew restless with fear, as if the chaotic world had found its focus, with all mystery converging upon the youth before him.
It made him yearn while simultaneously feeling naturally suppressed.
"You succeeded?" The old man's voice became dry.
"Indeed, I succeeded," Wayne stated frankly, without any humble excuses about luck - everything had followed its natural course, as there's no such thing as luck on the path of magical exploration.
"Can you tell me about it?" Dumbledore asked excitedly. "You feel like the legendary Merlin, having become the embodiment of magic's source. How exactly did you achieve this?"
"I call this realm Legend," Wayne said. "Everyone's path to touching the Legend domain is different. My insights and methods can only serve as a reference for you - you mustn't walk into a dead end."
"I understand." Dumbledore nodded gently, showing no disappointment.
Learning magic was similar - the same spells produced different effects when cast by different people, and everyone's magical power had distinct characteristics.
What he needed wasn't a definite path, but merely a lamp to illuminate the way forward.
Fortunately, Wayne had recently exchanged many experiences with Grace. If he followed his own breakthrough method, it would offer no reference value for the old Headmaster.
"Magical power is idealistic."
Wayne stated for who-knows-which time this sentence that pointed directly to this world's most fundamental core.
"Spells, incantations, gestures - these elements are all steps to strengthen our will, ultimately making magical power respond to our wishes to achieve the purpose of affecting reality.
"But essentially, this is using our magical power to struggle against the world's rules. Clearly, this is a piece of wood, yet you insist on using magical power to turn it into a needle.
"Clearly, it's just an inanimate puppet, yet magical power insists on granting it the ability to think and act."
Wayne spoke eloquently while Dumbledore listened with rapt attention, as if he had returned to his student days, casting aside all his accumulated experience to start anew.
"And becoming a Legend means elevating this will to struggle to its highest form while expanding its sphere of influence until you gain control over an entire area, not just limited to the effects of your magical power."
As he spoke, Wayne walked to the window and pointed at the sky outside: "I say, there should now be overcast clouds and pouring rain."
The previously clear sky transformed within mere seconds into thick clouds, then unleashed a torrential downpour that sent the young wizards playing outside scrambling back toward the castle in panic.
"I say, sun and moon reversed, stars filling the sky."
The clouds dispersed, but what appeared wasn't the sun— it was a bright moon, alongside countless twinkling stars.
Dumbledore stared in stunned silence.
The first transformation was something he could achieve with weather charms, but certainly not with Wayne's effortless grace.
As for the second phenomenon, that was utterly impossible for him, no matter how hard he tried.
Altering the rotation of the sun and the moon? This is what you call controlling a small area?
"Not as exaggerated as you imagine." Wayne placed a hand on Dumbledore's shoulder and flew him directly into the air, passing through the cloud layer until, at 10,000 meters, everything returned to normal.
"The effects only occur within my domain around the castle."
As they descended, they could see students confused by the strange weather. With the darkened skies, nobody noticed their movements.
Returning to the office, Wayne resumed his seat. "Any insights?"
"Hmm... nothing specific, but I just detected your magical power extending - no, assimilating with the world."
"Quite accurate description - assimilation indeed." Wayne looked admiringly at old Dumbledore. Truly worthy of being Dumbledore - he'd only demonstrated once, and the man had gained such profound understanding.
"Not enough..." Dumbledore shook his head, exhaling deeply. "I've realised my understanding of magical power remains far too shallow."
"Thank you, Wayne. I'll return to contemplate this properly."
Having said this, Dumbledore bowed formally to Wayne with great respect. Wayne didn't avoid the gesture, merely standing to accept the honour.
This counted as the grace of transmitting wisdom - Dumbledore owed him a significant debt, and accepting this bow would help ease the old wizard's conscience.
Dumbledore hurried off to record and carefully contemplate the sensation he'd just experienced, while Wayne remained alone in the office, deep in thought.
Traditionally, after becoming a Legend, a mage's research direction shifted from specific spells to analysing the world and perceiving fundamental truths.
But he didn't plan to follow this path - or rather, not just comprehending rules while neglecting the study of magical power itself.
This world's upper limits for magical power were tremendously high. As long as one's conceptual power was strong enough, instantly recreating the world was theoretically possible.
Unlike many worlds where magic was just one energy among many, primarily suited for destruction.
Wayne intended to advance on both fronts simultaneously. After obtaining the fundamental runes of witchcraft, he'd gained the capacity to divide his attention effectively.
Summoning several house-elves, he instructed them to take letters to the owlery for posting. Wayne then left the Headmaster's Office and headed to the second-floor library to find Hermione.
He didn't need to check the Marauder's Map to know Hermione would be in the library. With only two months until the OWLs, it was certain she'd already started revising, given her character.
Sure enough, he found the young witch at a table near the window.
Sensing someone watching her, Hermione looked up curiously before breaking into a delighted smile and hugging him.
"I thought you were researching magic? Why aren't you in your pocket dimension?"
"I went to find Senior Grace," Wayne explained quietly. "We first visited a pyramid, then went to Ilvermorny. We just returned today."
Madam Pince glared disapprovingly at the two whispering students, but couldn't bring herself to evict them.
After all, she was just an employee while Wayne was her boss.
Fortunately, the pair soon left the library, with Hermione packing up her mountain of books before departing.
...
The Easter holidays passed quickly, and the young witches and wizards learned about the Durmstrang students and Grindelwald's impending arrival at Hogwarts, though reactions were generally muted.
With Wayne around, what was another Dark Lord? He'd defeated the first one, so he could defeat the second one.
As for the Durmstrang students, many were already familiar faces—nothing particularly exciting.
Around six o'clock, the Gryffindor Quidditch team returned to the Great Hall with their brooms. They'd be facing Slytherin next weekend in their final match before exams.
Harry had been in excellent spirits ever since Voldemort's death.
Not only had he avenged his parents, but he'd also been freed from that strange connection - no more headaches since that night.
What pleased Harry most was that with Voldemort's demise, the curse on the Defence Against the Dark Arts position had finally lifted.
He no longer had to constantly watch his back around professors.
Even when Frank Longbottom, Neville's father, had filled the position, Harry had maintained a cautious distance.
He believed Frank was a good man, but what if he'd been placed under the Imperius Curse? Or what if someone had used Polyjuice Potion to impersonate him?
He'd even become more wary around Neville as a result.
How much better things were now - no worries, just happily being an ordinary student.
"Potter, Professor McGonagall wants to see you."
Harry had barely taken two bites of his food when he heard his name. Turning, he saw Ariana waving him over.
"Coming." Harry shoved a bite of pie into his mouth before rising to join Ariana.
They left the Great Hall together, heading toward the fourth floor.
"Percival, any idea what this is about?" Harry asked curiously along the way.
"I'm not sure." Ariana shook her head. "Probably something to do with Durmstrang, though."
Harry didn't press further.
Soon, they reached the office, where Ariana knocked gently and waited for permission before entering.
Professor McGonagall got straight to the point, producing a floral wreath and handing it to Harry.
"When the Durmstrang delegation arrives, you'll be responsible for presenting this wreath to Headmaster Grindelwald."
"Eh?" Harry's face showed utter confusion. "Me? As a flower boy?"
He couldn't help glancing at Ariana, who was covering her mouth to suppress giggles. Wouldn't this doll-like blonde girl be more suitable than him?
"This is Headmaster Lawrence's decision." Professor McGonagall set down her quill and stood up. "I'll go down with you. They should be arriving soon."
As she spoke, Professor McGonagall waved her wand, sweeping away the dust Harry had accumulated during training and smoothing out the wrinkles in his robes.
...
Half an hour later, just like last year when they welcomed the other schools, the staff and students of Hogwarts gathered once more on the lawn to wait.
The only difference was that last year Dumbledore had stood at the front, whereas now it was Wayne and Harry.
The two were whispering. Harry didn't understand why Wayne wanted him to be the flower bearer - he didn't think his looks were up to the task.
"I just thought you two would get along," Wayne shrugged. "Besides, you're Hogwarts' most famous student - well, aside from me - so it's only right you help represent the school."
Harry had nothing to say to that.
Splash!
The Black Lake suddenly rippled with concentric circles as the familiar skeletal ship emerged from a whirlpool in the water.
A plank extended to the shore. Grindelwald led the way, followed by Vinda Rosier and several other Acolytes, with about two hundred Durmstrang students trailing behind as they slowly approached the waiting crowd.
"Mr Lawrence." Grindelwald extended his hand.
"Mr Grindelwald, welcome to Durmstrang."
Wayne shook his hand briefly before stepping back and giving Harry a meaningful look.
Harry had no choice but to step forward. Holding up the floral wreath, he said, "Mr Grindelwald, I'm Harry Potter. This is a gift from the staff and students of Hogwarts."
Grindelwald didn't reach for it, merely watching him with an amused expression.
Just as Harry was wondering what to do, Grindelwald finally spoke.
"Harry, there's no need for such formality between us."
Ever since watching the broadcast, Harry had found Grindelwald's voice strangely familiar. Now, with Grindelwald standing right before him and speaking directly to him...
His mind exploded with recognition as he remembered the Niffler that had accompanied him for a whole year. The word escaped his lips before he could stop it:
"Teacher?"