Professor McGonagall approached at near-running speed. Worse still, the other three Heads of House were right behind her!
Flitwick looked bewildered. Professor Sprout glanced between her students and Flint dangling from the ceiling, equally confused, yet instinctively positioned herself in front of Wayne.
Snape's brows knitted into knots as he arrived, eyes burning with fury directed at the handsome youth shielded by Sprout.
No explanation needed - this was undoubtedly Lawrence's handiwork!
"Good morning, Professors."
Wayne greeted them politely, but Professor McGonagall wasn't having any of it.
"Lawrence, what's happened this time?!"
The familiar hanging method and characteristic Hufflepuff group action made it obvious - even without Snape's input, McGonagall recognised the perpetrator.
"Just a minor disagreement, already resolved." Wayne smiled bashfully. "You haven't had breakfast yet, I won't keep you."
It truly was minor - only Flint, the instigator, faced consequences. Wayne Lawrence always distinguished friend from foe, never harming innocents. The only real casualty was Astoria, nearly frightened to tears, though he'd already comforted the poor girl.
Professor McGonagall clearly disagreed.
"This is resolved?"
She stared at the boy incredulously. The surrounding crowd and the silently screaming Flint, hanging midair, left her momentarily dazed. Had they learned different versions of English? How could their definitions of "resolved" diverge so drastically? Did Wayne's resolution involve eliminating troublemakers?
McGonagall's expression grew profoundly complicated. She carefully simplified her phrasing to bridge their communication gap.
"Let me rephrase - why is everyone gathered here? And why is Flint suspended from the ceiling? Could you explain the sequence of events from the beginning?"
"Lawrence, don't be afraid. Did they bully you again?" Professor Sprout displayed classic maternal protectiveness. Though she acknowledged Wayne was more... spirited than most Hufflepuffs, that didn't make him a bad child. Every incident since his enrollment had been a defensive retaliation - clearly, the children from other houses were at fault. Honestly, couldn't Slytherin leave her good boy alone?
"Sprout, my student is currently hanging from your ceiling," Snape said icily. He'd grown accustomed to this. Everyone assumed Lawrence was the victim. It gave him an almost transcendent sense of being the sole sober man among drunkards.
"Liberacorpus!"
Snape's expression darkened as his counter-charm failed - Flint remained firmly suspended.
Wayne smiled at him.
Having mastered the Levitation Spell for so long, how could he not make some modifications? True magic must be applied practically. He was already transforming those rigid spells into something of his own. If enemies tried to counter them with conventional counter-spells, they'd be in for a nasty surprise.
"Professor McGonagall, here's what happened..."
Compared to Flint's miserable state, Snape was more concerned about why his counter-spell had failed, continuously reciting the counter-spell while changing gestures and rhythms.
Wayne glanced at him before ignoring him completely, recounting events truthfully from yesterday morning until just now.
When she heard Flint had actually tried to curse Hermione, Professor McGonagall transformed into an angry lion, harshly berating Flint several times.
Finally, Wayne added, "Everyone was just worried I might be bullied by other Slytherins, so they came along for support. No one lifted a finger the whole time."
"Who says? I kicked Flint just now," Cedric declared loyally, stepping forward.
Then Wotley, Grace, his two roommates...
Dozens of little badgers all claimed they'd taken a swing at Flint, making it sound like the entire Hufflepuff house had ganged up on him.
This left Professors McGonagall and Sprout both exasperated and amused.
They knew everyone was trying to share Lawrence's punishment by saying this, yet it warmed their hearts. That so many Hufflepuffs would stand up for him proved just how good Lawrence's character and reputation were.
"Slytherin loses fifty points," Professor McGonagall first punished Flint for instigating the incident.
Simultaneously, she glanced at Snape, who was glaring venomously at Flint, and said disapprovingly, "Professor Snape, you should strengthen your students' moral education. This is also the Head of House's responsibility. I can't imagine such vile insults against fellow students happening repeatedly!"
Hermione was Professor McGonagall's favourite Gryffindor. In the young witch, she saw her own younger self. By extension, Flint insulting Hermione equated to insulting McGonagall.
Snape naturally had nothing to say about this punishment, merely nodding gloomily.
"I understand."
Professor McGonagall continued, "For Mr Malfoy's righteous actions, Slytherin gains twenty points."
Malfoy, who'd been standing by watching the drama, froze in surprise. Never expecting Professor McGonagall would award him points, he instinctively puffed out his chest with pride. This was the first time he'd ever received so many points at once.
"Mr Lawrence, though Flint was at fault, that doesn't give you the right to punish him," McGonagall finally turned to Wayne.
Wayne said indifferently, "I know it's wrong, but I'd do it again. If anyone insults my friends, even school rules won't save them."
McGonagall massaged her temples.
"Mr Lawrence, take Flint down first."
"No." Wayne refused outright.
"What did you say?"
McGonagall could hardly believe her ears. In all her years, no student had ever defied her like this.
"Punish me however you see fit, but as I've said, Flint stays up there until dinner ends. That won't change just because you ask. Not even Merlin could save him now."
"Lawrence," Professor Sprout couldn't help calling out.
"Head of House!" Wayne looked at her with reddened eyes, his expression full of grievance. "Are we Muggle-born wizards just supposed to take being insulted like that? And all they get is a meaningless point deduction and detention!"
"Minerva," Sprout said to her old friend. "Maybe let it be? Hanging him up might teach him a lesson. This is utterly disgraceful!"
Professor McGonagall: "..."
Wait, you're changing sides just because your student said something?
What kind of Head of House does that?
"Corporal punishment was abolished decades ago," McGonagall frowned.
"It's not us punishing him, it's Lawrence's personal action," Sprout muttered.
"Lawrence, I'll ask you one more time—will you really not let him down?" Professor McGonagall fixed the boy with a stern look.
"No."
"Fine. One hundred points from Hufflepuff, and you'll serve detention with Filch every evening next week."
The harshest detentions at school were either with Snape or in the Forbidden Forest, but remembering the consequences of Wayne's last trip into the forest, McGonagall compromised.
Still, a hundred-point deduction would be enough to temporarily knock Hufflepuff out of first place.
"Fine," Wayne agreed readily. "Anything else? If not, I'll be off."
McGonagall gave him one last weary glance before waving her hand. "Go. This matter ends here."
"Everyone, back to the common room!"
Wayne raised his arm in triumph, and the little badgers cheered in response, happily surging towards the underground corridor.
Watching the students' joyful departure, Sprout's face broke into a smile as she breezed into the Great Hall.
Meanwhile, McGonagall and Flitwick tried several times to free Flint, but to no avail—much to their astonishment.
"Severus, this is a spell you developed during your student days, isn't it?" McGonagall remarked.
"Indeed," Snape admitted, thoroughly embarrassed at being stumped by his own creation.
Ignoring Snape's resentment, Flitwick sighed in admiration.
"I'd love to give Mr. Lawrence twenty points for this. Such exquisite spellwork—he ought to compete in wizard duelling tournaments."
The three professors studied the spell at length, but after an hour, they finally gave up.
Devising a counter-charm wasn't something that could be done quickly. Though the spell resembled Snape's Levitation Spell on the surface, its core mechanics had been completely altered.
A Binding Charm, Knockback Jinx, Hardening Spell, and even partial counter-charms—it was an extraordinarily versatile combination, hence the immense difficulty.
The professors could have forcibly dismantled it with a powerful General Counter-Spell, but none of them suggested it.
Flitwick treated it as a minor challenge—resorting to brute force against a student's spell would be downright shameful, and rather dull, at that.
McGonagall shared the sentiment, although her primary motivation was to want Flint to suffer a little longer. After all, he'd insulted her house's students.
As for Snape... he didn't dare antagonise Wayne too much.
The boy was like an impregnable hedgehog—beating him in a duel seemed unlikely now, and there were times when he still needed Wayne's cooperation.
If he could solve it properly, fine.
But if he cheated and got caught... who knew what even more devious schemes the boy might concoct?
One by one, the professors departed.
Before leaving, Snape produced a vial of potion, directing the liquid to pour itself into Flint's mouth.
"You'll also serve detention tomorrow. It ends only when you've finished processing a thousand toad carcasses."
With that, ignoring Flint's stunned expression, Snape strode upstairs.
He was going to report this!
...
Flint's miserable state soon became one of the school's most spectacular sights.
Meanwhile, news of Wayne's dramatic retaliation for his beloved spread quickly among the students, eliciting envious squeals from many girls.
If any boy would do that for them... well, provided he was as handsome as Wayne...
They'd absolutely storm the boys' dormitory that very night to reward him properly.
As for Hermione, the person involved, she'd been studying in the library early and only learned what happened when Lavender Brown burst in excitedly.
Upon hearing that Wayne had hung Flint from the Great Hall doors for her sake and even stood up to Professor McGonagall...
Hermione's eyes instantly reddened. She threw her book on the table and ran to the Hufflepuff common room entrance.
When Wayne was called out by a housemate, before he could speak, Hermione silenced him with her lips.
A group of badgers pressed against the barrel entrance, watching excitedly.
"Who's got a camera? Quick, take pictures!" Toby exclaimed. "Give them to Cho from Ravenclaw—I want to see blood in the water!"
"I do!" A third-year boy pushed forward and snapped several shots.
"You're all terrible," Hannah said disdainfully.
"What's terrible about it?" Norman argued righteously. "We're not creating the news, merely spreading it."
"I'm quite friendly with Marietta. I'll go find her later," a third-year girl chirped. They were all clearly enjoying the drama.
Only when Hermione was nearly breathless did she reluctantly release Wayne.
"Don't be so reckless in future. He wasn't worth it. Flint's just an imbecile."
The Flint family practised inbreeding—their buck teeth rivalled rabbits', and their looks were equally unfortunate.
Hermione's insult was remarkably accurate. Top student indeed.
"That depends on whether anyone else dares provoke me," Wayne refused to promise, patting Hermione's head.
"You need to adjust your thinking. This is the wizarding world, not Muggle society. Order and rules exist, yes, but with power comes respect. What's my status compared to Flint's? Why should I tolerate him?"
As he spoke, Wayne's expression unconsciously took on a domineering tone.
Whether in the Muggle world or the wizarding one, his personal dictionary contained no word for "compromise."
Others were born in Rome—he was born and built his own Rome.
Lineage, power, and his unique advantages gave him the capital to disregard most people.
Over time, Wayne had become intensely proud.
Only his excellent upbringing masked this arrogance.
He wasn't alone.
Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and even Voldemort were the same.
In their eyes, only equals deserved attention.
Others weren't quite ants—just larger insects.
Dumbledore imposed rules upon himself to avoid becoming another Dark Lord. The other two weren't nearly as conscientious.
One nearly overturned the whole of Europe, while the other stirred Britain into constant unrest.
"But I'm worried their parents will cause trouble for you." Hermione wrapped her arms around Wayne's waist, burying her face in his chest as she spoke gloomily.
Wayne glared at the onlookers before waving his hand to shut the common room door, then said: "Don't worry about that. Not only am I unafraid of the Flint family, but even Professor Dumbledore wouldn't allow outsiders to interfere with school matters. If the Flint family dares send anyone, we'll just hang them on the wall too."
"Pfft!"
Hermione pictured it.
The mental image of three generations of the Flint family neatly hung on the Great Hall walls by Wayne made her burst into laughter.
"I... I want to study inside your trunk."
The little witch's face flushed crimson, her voice growing quieter.
This was clearly less about studying and more about giving... benefits.
Naturally, Wayne wouldn't miss such an opportunity, grabbing the girl's hand and dashing outside.
...
Meanwhile, in the Great Hall, usually empty except during meals, today it was crowded with spectators gathering around the utterly defeated Flint.
Hanging upside down, Flint's hairy legs were exposed, causing many witches to glance in disgust before hurriedly leaving – prolonged viewing might stain their eyes.
"Just like a great ape."
Fred and George never missed an opportunity for excitement. They'd even borrowed Colin's camera, snapping numerous shots of Flint to preserve his humiliation.
Wood snickered nearby, too. During last year's match, Flint had knocked him off his broom with a club – it took ages to recover. Wayne had essentially avenged him.
The passing Slytherin students weren't nearly as amused.
This wasn't just an insult to the Flint family – it humiliated Slytherin House itself, and Wayne's threats left them seething.
But what could they do?
After seeing Flint's pitiful state, who'd dare intervene?
"Lawrence, I'll make you die!"
Though unable to speak or move, Flint's mind still functioned.
If his hatred could fuel Cruciatus Curses, it would surpass many Dark Wizards.
Once the spell wore off, he'd immediately write home demanding vengeance!
...
Headmaster's Office.
After waiting over an hour at the door, Snape finally entered.
Seeing the old man leisurely enjoying sweets ignited his fury.
"Are you pleased now?"
"The school's harbouring a lawless demon!"