Though the boy's methods seemed extreme, Acromantula venom was innocent.
When Wayne returned with an entire bucket of venom, Newt still colluded with him, taking a portion for himself.
What could he say? The offer was simply too good to refuse.
Aragog watched the two humans dividing his essence right before his eyes, seething with silent fury.
Now he finally understood why Wayne had been so "generous" with those supplements back then.
This was nothing short of extortion!
"Wayne, we should still be gentle with magical creatures," Newt said, somewhat embarrassed.
He could see grievance and glistening tears in the eyes of the notoriously savage Acromantula.
"Senior, you don't understand." Wayne shook his head and explained the whole story.
He felt he had already done Hagrid a great favour by sparing Aragog's life. Extracting a bit of venom wasn't such a big deal—it wasn't as if he hadn't given compensation.
Sure, the Acromantulas looked weak now, but they'd recover in two or three days.
After hearing this, Newt fell into a long silence.
He thought Azkaban might not be enough—perhaps Nurmengard would be more fitting?
...
Leaving the Acromantula camp with a bountiful haul, Wayne then proceeded to pack three Unicorns into his case.
Later, he even leveraged Newt's reputation to obtain a fair amount of herbs from the Centaur tribe.
It wasn't that he couldn't afford them—it was just that getting them for free held greater value.
Upon seeing Newt, the Centaurs greeted him warmly, and Firenze and Ronan even pulled him aside for a private conversation.
Wayne only saw the old man's face turn red as he waved his hands repeatedly in refusal.
After that, the two parted ways—Newt left the school, while Wayne returned to his dormitory.
...
Early the next morning.
Suddenly, the students' wardrobes were emptied, their belongings packed into trunks, and notices were handed out to everyone, warning them not to use magic during the holidays.
After breakfast, Fred and George sought out Wayne.
"Mum's invited you to the Burrow—though, of course, this is our idea too."
"So, what do you say, young master Lawrence? Would you deign to grace us with your presence?" Fred quipped theatrically.
Cedric, standing nearby, chimed in, "I was going to ask you the same thing. If the Weasleys don't have enough space, you're welcome to stay at my place."
George retorted indignantly, "We can always chuck Ron out and give his room to Wayne."
Ron, who happened to be passing by, turned pale and then flushed red upon hearing this.
Wayne thought about his schedule and replied uncertainly, "If I have time, I'll go, but July is out of the question."
This summer, Wayne felt busier than during term time.
In the first week of July, he was heading to France to meet Nicolas Flamel, and from what Newt had hinted, it seemed he'd be staying for a while.
Exactly how long, he wasn't sure.
After returning, he'd need to quickly finish the essay he'd promised Professor McGonagall, then head to Dorset to spend some time with Tina.
By the time all that was done, it would likely be August. The twins exchanged a glance, immediately understanding each other's thoughts.
"That's perfect! You can stay with us until term starts, and we'll all go to King's Cross together."
Fred sighed. "Charlie's off working, and our little brother's gotten bored with playing with us. This holiday's going to be dull."
"Don't just focus on playing," Wayne reminded them. "Your Potions and Ancient Runes are poor. Stop relying on Penelope to make your gadgets for you."
George nodded. "Of course, we'll make time to study too."
Wayne facepalmed.
'Make time,' his arse.
...
At ten o'clock, the students either boarded Thestral-drawn carriages or took the boats, leaving Hogwarts for the train home.
Along the way, students who spotted Wayne greeted him enthusiastically. The recipient of the Order of Merlin had only grown more sought-after than he already was.
Wayne maintained a polite smile until he, Cho, and Hermione found an empty compartment—finally, some relief.
Before long, Penelope joined them, followed by the twins and Cedric.
"So impressive, the youngest-ever recipient of the Order of Merlin—oh, and a Second Class at that," Cedric teased, then paled when Wayne pulled out his wand.
"H-hey, don't do anything reckless! We can't use magic outside school now—"
Wayne scoffed. "Who are you kidding? Don't tell me you've never used magic when the adults weren't around."
Cedric immediately switched to a sycophantic grin. "C'mon, mate, I was just joking. Don't take it seriously."
The twins shot him a disdainful look.
Previously, they hadn't interacted much with this model student, hearing more about him from Mr Diggory's praises, which then reached Mr Weasley's ears.
He'd then use Cedric as an example to lecture them—the legendary 'other people's child'.
But this year, thanks to Celia Store, they'd often collaborated with Cedric on the map and other gadgets.
Gradually, they realised this guy wasn't nearly as prim and proper as his reputation suggested—he was downright sneaky.
Or, as Wayne put it, 'a closet pervert'.
The compartment, already snug with six people, now held seven. Resigned, Wayne cast an Undetectable Extension Charm on it.
"This big?" Cedric's eyebrows shot up. "I can only fit two books into a wallet right now—anything larger is beyond me."
"You've mastered it too?" Fred gave him a complicated look.
Wayne was one thing—nothing he did was surprising anymore.
But they were all just ordinary third-years! Had Cedric been secretly putting in effort behind their backs?
George grinned ingratiatingly. "Master Lawrence, could you make us an Undetectable Extension Charm pouch?
"If Mum sees all the weird stuff we've got, she'll confiscate it."
His pitiful tone, coupled with his comical expression, made everyone in the compartment laugh.
Wayne didn't refuse either: "Sure, twenty Galleons each. Size-wise... about the same as the carriage?"
"You're charging us?" George and Fred's faces fell, and they tentatively asked, "Can we pay in... other ways?"
Whoosh!
Instantly, three icy glares shot towards them, making their hair stand on end.
"Er—" George forced a dry laugh. "Just kidding. Twenty Galleons it is. We'll take two."
Only then did Hermione and the others casually withdraw their stares.
It was terrifying—the twins felt like they'd just taken a stroll past the gates of hell.
Thanks to Celia Store, they'd earned quite a bit lately. Forty Galleons was painful, but they could manage.
The train passed through villages one after another, and the journey wasn't dull. Penelope, Cho, and Hermione chatted about makeup and Muggle cosmetics, with the other two showing keen interest.
George and Cedric discussed how to sell more maps next term.
Fred pulled out a Wizard's Chess set, challenging Wayne to a game.
Wayne set up his pieces, which immediately started shouting at him to buff them.
Fred was baffled at first—until his pieces were all skewered by a single spearman. He swore never to play chess with Wayne again.
In his life, he hated two kinds of people: those who wouldn't let him cheat, and those who cheated better than he did.
Knock knock!
The locked compartment door rattled, followed by Harry's voice from outside. "Wayne, are you in there?"
"Yeah," Wayne opened the door. "Want to come in?"
"No need." Harry smiled at the others, then lowered his voice. "Can we talk outside?"
Wayne noticed Harry always acted mysteriously when seeking him out, but he didn't refuse. He followed him into the corridor.
"Can you make me stronger, Wayne?" Harry took a deep breath, his voice earnest. "I want to be as strong as you. I want to defeat Voldemort—to avenge my parents."
After that talk in the hospital wing, even if he didn't fully grasp the fate tying him to Voldemort, he understood the weight of his emotions. His parents' sacrifice had kept him alive—he had to do something.
"Hmm." Wayne rubbed his chin, watching the scenery flash by outside the window. "That's quite the demand..."
"I can pay." Without hesitation, Harry pulled out a bulging pouch of Galleons and offered it with both hands.
A year had taught Harry Wayne's nature. If Wayne said something was difficult, it didn't mean impossible—just that the price wasn't right.
Someone from a nearby compartment happened to step out, saw the scene, and immediately ducked back inside, assuming Harry was paying protection money.
"This is all I have on me, but there's more in Gringotts. Any amount—just help me get stronger."
That vault of gold was Harry's confidence. Wayne's goods were expensive, but he never swindled anyone.
Well, unless they were Slytherin's rich snobs.
Poor Harry had no idea that, in Wayne's eyes, he was one of those rich snobs.
Wayne said nothing, just hefted the pouch in his hand—about a hundred Galleons. For an ordinary student, it was a small fortune. But... it wasn't enough.
"Harry, do you trust me that much?" Wayne countered. "If you truly want to get stronger, why not go to Dumbledore?"
Harry said bitterly, "I've already asked Dumbledore. He told me not to let hatred blind me, that the living are more worth cherishing."
Wayne nodded. That was just Dumbledore's style—no surprise there. The man preached what he practised.
Back in the day, those Muggles who had mocked Ariana and driven her to become an Obscurial—Dumbledore hadn't sought revenge on them. That kind of mindset was something Wayne genuinely couldn't understand.
Wayne wasn't a pacifist, nor did he believe in turning the other cheek.
But that didn't mean others could walk all over him. Not actively harming people was already the greatest mercy he could offer the world. Swallow his pride?
He'd rather send a few Killing Curses their way and ensure they never breathed again.
"Fine, I'll take the job," Wayne said, pocketing the Galleons. Harry's face lit up with relief.
"But this isn't enough."
Harry, ever the spendthrift, declared, "Name your price, whatever it is."
Wayne held up a single finger.
"One thousand Galleons. Per school year."
"Once a week, minimum two hours per session."
Even with some mental preparation, Harry's heart still skipped a beat at Wayne's offer.
That was a thousand Galleons.
Enough to cover the Weasleys' living expenses for two years.
"I can guarantee that in two and a half years, you'll surpass most upper-years and become one of the strongest in the school."
"As for defeating Voldemort... honestly, I can't even do that myself, let alone help you reach that level."
Harry had decent talent, especially in Dark Magic and Defence Against the Dark Arts—at least an A-rank evaluation in the system.
Plus, Snape had been secretly dosing him with potions, so Wayne spoke with absolute confidence.
"Deal," Harry gritted his teeth and agreed.
"Now that's more like it. No money, no power-ups," Wayne grinned, clapping Harry on the shoulder.
"By the way, I heard things aren't great between you and your aunt's family?"
Harry's expression darkened further.
The thought of returning to that cramped bedroom made it impossible for him to feel any joy.
He was one of the few young wizards who didn't look forward to holidays.
"Another five hundred Galleons, and I'll make sure they never bother you again. Plus, I'll get them to sign your Hogsmeade permission slip. How's that?"
"Can't you lower the price a bit?" Harry asked, wincing. Even he, who never haggled, was starting to feel the pinch.
Wayne frowned at him. "This isn't expensive. Five hundred Galleons for years of peace—doesn't that sound tempting?"
Harry shook his head miserably. "Too scared to be tempted. Too scared."
In the end, the deal was settled at four hundred Galleons.
Wayne told Harry he'd pay a visit in two days but kept the details of his solution to himself for now.
After seeing off the financially drained Harry, Wayne informed the others in the room before heading off to find Malfoy.
"Lawrence, what brings you here?"
Seeing Wayne appear suddenly, Malfoy instinctively stood up. Then, realising he'd overreacted, he sat back down.
Truth be told, Wayne's recent rise to fame—even earning a Merlin Medal—had left Malfoy feeling an involuntary sense of awe.
In the room, there were also Malfoy's two lackeys and Pansy Parkinson. Wayne ignored them completely.
"Nothing much, I just came to tell you that Harry will be learning magic from me next term."
He spoke with grave sincerity: "From now on, you'd better stop provoking Harry. With my guidance, he'll undoubtedly surpass you by a considerable margin."
Malfoy exploded on the spot.
"Why? Why are you helping Potter?"
Damned scarhead, actually hiring outside help? How unsporting!
"I didn't want to get involved either," Wayne sighed dramatically, adopting a tone of helplessness. "But he offered too much—fifteen hundred Galleons per academic year, just to surpass you."
"With that much gold... I simply couldn't refuse!"
Hearing this, Malfoy immediately countered, "I'll pay fifteen hundred too—you can't teach Potter."
"That won't do," Wayne shook his head. "I'm a nobleman after all. Once I've given my word, I must honour it."
Seeing Malfoy's disappointed expression, he suddenly changed tack: "However... if you want to improve yourself, I could help you too. We are friends, after all."
Malfoy's eyes lit up.
Of course! If Harry could learn from Wayne, why couldn't he?
"Consider it settled then!" Malfoy said hastily. "Fifteen hundred per year—I'll give you the money when term starts!"
Wayne left thoroughly satisfied.
Getting double the catch—what delightful fortune!
Returning to their compartment, everyone noticed his radiant expression and grew curious about what had transpired. But Wayne merely smiled mysteriously, provoking numerous complaints from the group.
Eventually, the train began slowing down. As evening fell, it pulled into Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
Wayne's party disembarked to find the platform crowded with parents coming to collect their children. The twins quickly spotted their mother and dragged Wayne over to make introductions.
Their younger sister Ginny had come too—the girl sporting the Weasley family's trademark red hair and a smattering of freckles. She became excited upon seeing Harry, then grew shy and lowered her head when noticing Wayne's handsome features.
"Wayne, may I call you that?" Mrs Weasley asked, having finished speaking with Harry, now smiling warmly at Wayne.
"Of course, Mrs Weasley. How do you do?"