Among Hogwarts' four Common Rooms, Hufflepuff's was the most enigmatic. Even if outsiders knew the method for entry, they couldn't gain access.
Slytherin's was no less secretive.
Their strained relations with other houses—borderline hostile—meant Slytherins rarely mingled with outsiders. Many didn't even know where their Common Room door was. Most only learned from books that the Slytherin Common Room lay beneath the lake, its windows offering views of the Black Lake.
Fortunately, Wayne had no such concerns. Snape had played guide last time, letting him memorise the route with ease.
The massive group detoured around the Great Hall, crossing the courtyard from outside the castle to reach the opposite wing before descending into the dungeons.
Being a weekend, they encountered almost no one along the way.
"It's so dark here," Cedric muttered beside Wayne, frowning. Both were dungeons, yet Hufflepuff's walls were lined with candles, bathing the space in bright light.
Slytherin's relied on dim, flickering flames that, paired with emerald-green décor, sent chills down one's spine.
The Common Room entrance was a stone wall that would only rise from the ground when the correct password was spoken.
Wayne recalled Snape's last password.
"Ambition."
The wall remained inert.
"Pureblood."
Still nothing.
Did they change passwords this frequently?
Wayne frowned. He hadn't wanted to alert too many people—just corner Flint in his dorm.
"What now?" the seventh-year male Prefect asked.
"Wait for a guide," Wayne twirled his wand. "Someone's bound to come out for meals."
He'd considered brute-forcing the door. The resulting points would've been astronomical, but the backlash—effectively challenging the entire school—would undermine sustainable exploitation.
Best to stay civilised.
He was, after all, a noble.
Elegance mattered.
The others had no objections. Well-fed and energised, they were content to wait.
Luckily, Slytherin had early risers too. They didn't wait long.
The wall's base moulded into a coiling serpent, its raised scales forming an arched doorway. Wayne's lips curled into a smirk, but the smile vanished as soon as he recognised the approaching figure.
A slender silhouette emerged through the opened doors. She had been staring down at the parchment in her hands when the sudden shadow across the floor made her look up. Then she froze in shock.
The once-spacious entrance hall now felt cramped with over a hundred people, the stairwell completely blocked by several burly figures.
Every single pair of eyes was fixed intently upon her.
The young girl's lips trembled, her eyes welling up as tears threatened to spill.
"Don't cry, Miss Astoria," Wayne commanded with a headache, resting his hand atop the girl's head.
He hadn't expected a random passerby to be Astoria of all people.
Bullying little girls stirred some guilt.
If only it were Selwyn or Nott instead—they could cry all they wanted; he wouldn't bat an eye.
Behind him, the other badgers shared similar sentiments.
"You know her?" Toby asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, Daphne's sister. A first-year this year."
Gently patting the white-haired girl's head, Wayne softened his voice. "Astoria, we're not bad people."
Cedric rolled his eyes.
'That just makes you sound more suspicious!'
"L-Lawrence..." Astoria sniffled, managing to hold back her tears.
"Just call me Wayne," he said, keeping his tone gentle. "Why are you out here alone? Where's your sister?"
"She's still asleep... I just wanted to look around," the girl answered timidly before mustering the courage to ask, "What are all of you doing here?"
"Catching up with some old friends. But don't worry about it—just stay by my side."
He couldn't let Astoria play the role of guide; she'd inevitably face backlash from others later. They needed someone more expendable.
With a light tug, Wayne pulled the little white-haired girl to his side.
Seeing nearly everyone gripping their wands, Astoria gulped.
She might be shy and timid, but she wasn't stupid.
This didn't look like a friendly reunion—more like a hostile confrontation.
Though Wayne had already released her, the frightened girl clung tightly to the hem of his robe.
Glancing at the pitiful, helpless little figure, Wayne didn't push her away. Instead, he playfully flicked up her stray lock of hair.
It immediately flopped back down.
Undeterred, he tried again—only for it to droop once more. This repeated several times.
"What's wrong with your hair?" Wayne finally gave up, exasperated. Last time they met, that stubborn strand had stood up just fine.
"I-I don't know," Astoria mumbled, pouting.
Behind them, the crowd watched their odd interaction with expressions of bewilderment.
Weren't we here to cause trouble? Why are you flirting with the enemy?
At that moment, the door moved again. Wayne looked up and finally smiled.
Emerging weren't just one, but three boys: Selwyn, Nott, and Robert Parkinson.
When they saw Wayne and the crowd behind him, they immediately sensed something was wrong.
Their first thought was to run back inside.
But Wayne wouldn't give them that chance. With a raised wand, all three froze in place before being dragged before him.
"L-Lawrence... I haven't offended you, have I?"
Selwyn wore a miserable expression, racking his brains. Normally, he'd greet this man enthusiastically - their relationship had always been decent.
"Of course not, my friend. Good morning."
Wayne beamed. "And you, Nott. How are you doing?"
"I-I'm fine," Nott shuddered.
As for Robert Parkinson, Wayne didn't even glance his way. Their feud ran too deep - since they hadn't turned from enemies to friends, he wasn't worthy of a greeting.
"You're all aware of what happened yesterday."
"Lawrence, that was Flint's fault! It had nothing to do with us!" Selwyn hurriedly explained. "Besides, didn't Malfoy stop him?"
"That's not the point." Wayne shook his head disapprovingly. "Attempted murder still shows criminal intent. More importantly, Flint had already said half of it. Malfoy covering his mouth just prevented everyone from hearing - but the thought was already there. Am I wrong to settle accounts with him?"
"Then go find Flint! I'm not even on the Quidditch team!"
Nott felt terribly unlucky, wishing he could slap himself.
He shouldn't have come out for breakfast.
Wouldn't sleeping in have been better?
Who gets up this early on a weekend?!
"I know. But I need someone to fetch Flint for me." Wayne maintained his smile. "Until he comes out, no one leaves. Don't blame me. I don't want this either."
"I'll get him!"
"No, I'll go!"
Selwyn and Nott began arguing until Wayne finally intervened to send Selwyn away.
This fellow had sent gifts for both Christmas and his birthday, while Nott only gave Christmas presents - and just ordinary sweets at that.
As for Parkinson, he remained stony-faced throughout, seemingly resigned to his fate.
"Power!"
Regaining movement, Selwyn quickly uttered the password and dashed inside without looking back.
"Truly the Slytherin way," Wayne clicked his tongue.
...
Inside, Selwyn encountered several students descending the dormitory stairs and bellowed: "Which dorm is Flint in? Who shares with him?"
"What's wrong?" a Slytherin asked blankly.
"Lawrence is blocking the entrance!" Selwyn fumed. "Don't any of you leave either - get Flint out here now!"
They exchanged glances before one replied, "We're fourth-years. No idea where he stays."
"Then search room by room! Damn Flint, causing all this trouble."
Selwyn shoved past them, storming upstairs to knock on every door.
Soon, the commotion drew more students into the corridor, all of whom demanded to know what was happening. Upon learning that the corridor outside was swarming with Hufflepuffs, their expressions turned exceedingly grim.
They weren't angry at Lawrence's audacity, but rather resentful towards Flint. If he hadn't run his mouth, none of this mess would have happened.
"Let's go find Professor Snape," one student declared furiously, rising to his feet. "What do they think Slytherin is? Daring to block our entrance!"
The others looked at him as if he were an idiot. "Can you even get out?"
The student fell silent and slumped back into his seat dejectedly.
Before long, Flint was dragged from his bed while still fast asleep. Completely disoriented, he roared at the intruders in his dormitory:
"What the hell are you doing? Have you all gone mad this early in the morning?"
"You caused this trouble—now fix it yourself," several students hauled him into the Common Room.
"Lawrence is waiting for you outside."
"Wait." Flint began to panic. "What does he want?"
Selwyn sneered. "Scared now, after stirring up trouble?"
"Sort this out quickly. Don't let it disrupt everyone else's lives."
Though Flint was tall and burly, several Slytherins—only slightly shorter—working together left him no room for resistance.
Malfoy watched Flint's desperate howls and shuddered.
His fear of Wayne deepened considerably.
Not only is this guy formidable, but he also holds grudges!
...
To Wayne's surprise, things went far more smoothly than expected. He'd assumed his provocative actions would provoke resentment among many Slytherins, leading them to resist.
Yet while resentment was undoubtedly widespread, not a single soul stepped forward to oppose him.
A fitting testament to Slytherin's self-serving nature.
When Flint was delivered to him, several older Slytherins crowded just inside the entrance, daring only to peek their heads out.
"Lawrence, we've handed him over. Can we go now?"
"One moment—just a bit more of your time," Wayne waved dismissively.
"Astoria!" Daphne gasped upon spotting her younger sister standing beside the boy and rushed out immediately.
"Daphne, I was just chatting with Astoria. Alright, you can go back now."
Wayne patted the little girl's head, signalling for her to release his robes—she'd already crumpled them from clutching so tightly.
"Oh." Astoria nodded and scurried behind her sister, allowing Daphne to finally relax.
Only then did Wayne turn his attention to Flint.
The root of all this misery.
Flint glared at him, teeth clenched, radiating defiance.
"Mr Flint, it seems you still haven't grasped what you did wrong?"
"Was I wrong?" Flint snarled at Wayne. "You, and that Granger girl, are both—"
Thud!
With a flick of his wand, Wayne slammed Flint into the wall, eliciting a howl of pain.
"Let's test whether your mouth or this wall is harder."
Expressionless, Wayne yanked him back and hurled him again like a sack of potatoes.
After just three impacts, Flint passed out from the agony.
"Enervate."
A beam of white light struck Flint's body, jolting him awake. He stared at Wayne in terror.
"I was wrong, Lawrence. I'm sorry."
His earlier defiance had stemmed from the belief that Wayne wouldn't dare harm him. Even during the previous conflict, Wayne had merely defeated his opponents and hung them on the wall without causing substantial harm.
But just now, he could sense that if he continued hurling insults...
Wayne would truly kill him!
The observing Slytherins were also frightened into silence.
Too brutal.
Flint's legs were both smashed, and surely several ribs were fractured.
"Your attitude of remorse isn't sincere enough," Wayne shook his head. "If apologies were effective, what would we need Aurors for?"
"I can give you money, lots of money! I can apologise to Granger too, I'll never speak of her again!"
"You still don't grasp the main point."
Wayne turned towards the Slytherin entrance, his voice carrying clearly into the common room.
"Let Flint serve as a cautionary example. I detest that word—regardless of who it's directed at. Not just Hermione, but students from other houses too. If I hear that word uttered in this school again, Flint's fate will be the model."
"What do you want, Lawrence? I've already admitted my mistake!" Tears streamed down Flint's face as he sobbed and begged for mercy.
"Come with me."
With a wave of Wayne's hand, Flint floated into the air. The Hufflepuffs parted to make way.
None of them knew what Wayne intended to do.
Many Slytherins exchanged glances before hesitantly stepping out of the doorway, trailing at a distance behind the badgers.
...
The group returned to the main castle, pushing open the oak doors to enter the Great Hall.
By now, many had gathered for meals, and numerous eyes turned towards the commotion.
Flint, suspended mid-air and covered in blood, became the centre of attention.
Hufflepuff again.
Slytherin again.
Another major incident!
The Gryffindor students felt a pang of despondency.
Why... why has it come to this?
We're supposed to be Slytherin's sworn rivals. How has Hufflepuff become more active than Gryffindor?
Upon reaching the Great Hall's entrance, Wayne flicked his wrist, and Flint was inverted above the doorway.
Anyone entering or exiting would see him clearly.
"It hurts! It hurts so much!"
The inversion worsened the displacement of his broken bones, and Flint's agonised screams echoed throughout the Great Hall.
"Mustn't disturb the peace," Wayne murmured before casting a Silencing Charm.
Flint's mouth gaped open, but no sound emerged.
"Stay hanging here injured until dinner ends, then you can come down."
If uninjured, hanging for a day wouldn't have been so bad. However, in Flint's current condition, a day suspended would likely result in his admission to the hospital for a week afterwards.
"What is going on here?!"
A familiar, stern voice rang out from the stairwell, making the young badgers stiffen in alarm.
Disaster!