Just as the young wizards at the school were enjoying the ambiguous atmosphere of Valentine's Day, shortly after lunch, the clear sky became overcast with rolling dark clouds.
At first, people paid it little mind, thinking it was merely about to rain.
It wasn't until the dark green Dark Mark appeared, with a line of large characters floating beneath it, that the young wizards still wandering outside screamed and ran back towards the castle.
"March seventh, seven o seven in the evening, Fenwick Village."
Professor McGonagall said with a grave expression, "I've just checked the records; it's a purely Muggle village in Scotland."
"Slytherin was born there," Wayne pointed out incisively, causing Professor McGonagall to have a sudden realisation, though she remained deeply concerned.
"But there are still many Muggles living there."
"I'll have them all evacuated before the duel," Wayne said dismissively, waving his hand.
Professor McGonagall nodded; she knew a little about Wayne's influence in the Muggle world and didn't doubt he could accomplish it easily.
After their conversation, Wayne returned to the Great Hall to reassure the students panicked by the Dark Mark.
"The Dark Mark is just an ordinary signalling spell, nothing to be afraid of."
"Starting tomorrow, Professor Flitwick will teach the use of the Dark Mark across all year groups. All colours, all types, guaranteed teaching until mastered. Every student who learns it will earn ten points for their house."
"Eh?"
Professor Flitwick was covered in question marks, and the other professors also looked at Wayne in shock.
Mate, are you training a reserve of Death Eaters?
Slughorn, who had newly joined, was so frightened he nearly hid under the table. Wayne glanced at him.
Not good, old man. Why is your mental fortitude so weak?
Without a word, he directly picked up his wand and cast a Dark Mark into the air, causing another wave of panic.
But immediately, many people's expressions turned blank.
The originally menacing skull had transformed into a red-nosed clown, and the eerie snake had become a toy caterpillar, utterly ridiculous.
"See? It's not the spell that's terrifying, but the person using it. With the Death Eaters nearly wiped out, what is there to fear?"
"If you don't even dare to face danger, don't bother being a wizard; just go home and hide."
They were all a bunch of spirited young people, and provoked by Wayne's words, many immediately puffed out their chests, trying hard to appear nonchalant.
The atmosphere of panic subsequently dissipated by half.
Professor Flitwick also understood Wayne's intention and nodded with a smile.
The best way to eliminate fear is to adapt to it; when one masters the use of the Dark Mark themselves, it naturally doesn't seem so terrifying anymore.
Leaving the Great Hall, Wayne returned to the Headmaster's Office. Dumbledore had rushed to the school immediately after seeing the Dark Mark to guard against a sneak attack by Voldemort. Fortunately, the magic had been cast from a great distance, and he hadn't appeared in person.
"Wayne, could you change the password?"
As soon as he entered, Dumbledore didn't rush to discuss the duel but instead complained.
The password was "Lawrence," but you had to see how the gargoyle asked for it.
"Who is the greatest Headmaster in Hogwarts history?"
Dumbledore spent a full five minutes steeling himself before shamefully giving his answer. No wonder Professor McGonagall had absolutely refused to come when he said he'd wait for Wayne in the office.
"Old Dumbledore, you're overstepping. I'm the Headmaster here," Wayne said discontentedly. Dumbledore felt his face freeze stiff.
Ever since Ariana had been saved, he found himself increasingly powerless when dealing with Wayne.
"Alright, as long as you're happy."
Dumbledore sighed and stopped dwelling on the matter. "Do you think Voldemort will come?"
"Of course."
Wayne answered without hesitation. "If he'd only told you alone that day, I might still have some concerns. But after today, the whole world will know about his challenge."
"Regardless, he still carries Slytherin's pride. The chosen time and location suit his character perfectly."
"Indeed." Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "The seventh day, seventh hour, seventh minute - his obsession with this number borders on fanaticism."
"Even his Horcruxes..." This was information Slughorn had told him.
Including his main soul, Voldemort had likely split his soul into seven pieces - meaning six Horcruxes.
Plus the accidental case of Harry.
"The number seven does hold significant magical power," Wayne said with a smile. "Hogwarts has seven years, Quidditch has seven players, and the Weasley family even has seven children. Professor Vector has been researching the magic within numbers recently."
"Given Voldemort's obsession with bloodlines and legacy, this number would be enough to captivate him."
"The only remaining question is the whereabouts of Hufflepuff's Cup," Dumbledore said worriedly. He still didn't believe Harry could play a crucial role - forcibly viewing Voldemort's sealed memories would be far too difficult.
"If he can't manage it, it's no great matter." Wayne gently stroked his palm while calmly explaining his plan: "If Harry fails, I won't kill Voldemort. I'll capture him alive."
Dumbledore sat up straighter, asking with surprise and doubt: "Can you truly manage that?"
Capturing Voldemort was significantly more difficult than killing him.
"I wouldn't have forced him onto this path if I weren't confident."
"Let me know if you need anything... Actually, just contact Barty directly." Dumbledore changed his mind mid-sentence.
His position as Minister for Magic tended more toward being a mascot or decoration. Besides Bones, all important positions in the Ministry were now filled by Wayne's people - he could mobilise the entire wizarding world's resources with a single word.
Far more effective than the Minister himself.
Yet Dumbledore felt no anger about this whatsoever - rather, he enjoyed it.
Being a mascot was fine. This way, he had more time to spend with Ariana. Recently, Aberforth's attitude toward him had improved considerably, and the two brothers had shown signs of reconciliation.
The only imperfection was that Ariana remained in spectral form.
Considering Voldemort's threat, Dumbledore planned to wait until he was completely defeated before considering restoring her physical body.
...
Wayne did have matters requiring Ministry preparation.
The next day, Crouch arrived at Hogwarts.
"Live broadcast?"
Crouch looked at the young man in astonishment. "You want the entire world to witness your battle with Voldemort?"
"It's mainly for the students of Hogwarts," Wayne said. "Those with goals will be more motivated and have more opportunities to push beyond their limits."
"The magical world today is far too weak, far too weak. This won't do."
Crouch was stunned. He hadn't expected Wayne's perspective to suddenly expand so greatly, considering the overall development of the magical world. But since the boss had made the request, he would do his utmost to fulfil it.
Wayne took out a silvery-white sphere the size of a basketball. Crouch, puzzled, received it with both hands.
"Live-streaming orb," the young man explained. "An upgraded version of the underwater live-streaming orbs from the previous Holy Grail War. Bury one in the village and a few more randomly in the surrounding mountains."
"However, I only have this one on hand. Come back in a couple of days to collect more."
Crouch couldn't help but grin. "The duel is about to happen. You really shouldn't get distracted."
"It won't cause a delay," Wayne waved his hand dismissively. His schedule for the next few days was packed: tomorrow he was accompanying Nagini shopping, the day after he was watching the Tornados' match with Cho, and after returning, he still needed to guide Hermione in preparing her paper for publication in Transfiguration Today...
Who the hell did Voldemort think he was, to dare occupy Young Master Lawrence's precious time?
"Just don't overplay your hand," Crouch said helplessly, and could only leave carrying the orb.
...
Soon, the news that Wayne would be live-streaming his duel with Voldemort spread throughout Britain and rapidly expanded to every corner of the world.
Mr Chang was again as busy as a dog. Every day, officials from Ministries of Magic around the world came to liaise with him. Many didn't share a common language, forcing him to ask Crouch for help, since Crouch had mastered over a hundred languages, while he only knew four or five.
Furthermore, this generous move sent a clear signal to the outside world — Lawrence was absolutely confident of victory. It was precisely because of this absolute certainty that he was showcasing his power to the entire world.
For a time, every newspaper, without exception, was singing Wayne's praises. Even the Quibbler ran a special feature — 'How a Prodigy is Forged'.
It documented many of Wayne's daily habits and included an interview segment.
Many people dismissed it as pure fabrication, reading it just for fun.
But it was all actually true.
Luna had finally asked a favour of him; how could he refuse?
Although, in the end, Mr Lovegood seemed to have noticed something, as he regarded Wayne with increasing displeasure. If Luna hadn't pulled him away, he might have even resorted to violence.
The entire magical world — except for Britain itself — seemed convinced that Lawrence would absolutely achieve final victory.
This was partly Voldemort's own fault. He had maxed out his local reputation but hadn't yet started building his global renown before Harry defeated him.
However, people soon paid the price for this complacency.
Voldemort, who had been lying low recently, suddenly began to act.
On February 18th, he broke into the French Gringotts, blew up several vaults belonging to pure-blood families, looted them, and made off with numerous precious treasures.
On February 20th, he appeared in Egypt, stormed an unexplored pyramid ruin, killed several Goblins and wizards present at the scene, and took away a mask filled with curses.
Three days later, he went to Spain. Following the two previous incidents, various countries had become more vigilant, but it was to no avail.
Five Aurors died without a sound, and an ancient crown was stolen from Spain.
For a time, these countries finally realised why the British were so terrified of him that they didn't even dare to speak his name.
There was simply no stopping him!
Whenever he wished, Voldemort could go anywhere and do whatever he wanted.
Multiple countries urgently formed a joint Auror squad of over a hundred members, only to encounter Voldemort at a dragon reserve in Romania.
By then, Voldemort had already slaughtered three dragons. When this 'army' arrived, he was gulping down dragon blood, and a great battle inevitably erupted.
In just two minutes, over twenty people died, and the allied force was completely routed.
When Wayne received the news, he sighed repeatedly.
'I can laugh at Voldemort's incompetence, but that doesn't mean you should provoke him.'
'Why not just watch him go mad quietly and endure until March 7th? Must you rush to offer yourselves as casualties?'
'Do you really think the title of Second Dark Lord is for nothing?'
The entire wizarding world was shrouded in Voldemort's shadow.
Only the British Isles, isolated from the continent, remained relatively calm. They alone possessed two of the world's top wizards, and even Voldemort didn't dare show his face when delivering challenge letters, so they were temporarily safe.
As March arrived, however, it was the turn for British wizards to panic.
On March 1st, a lady of elegant demeanour, resembling a walking black rose, arrived at the Ministry of Magic, bringing with her the challenge letter from Grindelwald to Dumbledore.