Wayne watched Snape's expression with great amusement.
Lupin's unflappable demeanour only infuriated Snape further - it was like he'd swallowed fifty flesh-eating slugs.
He knew all too well about the bad blood between them.
Though Lupin hadn't been the main bully during their school days, as the third member of the Marauders, Snape's hatred for him was only slightly less than what he harboured for James and Sirius.
There was even one incident where Snape had nearly died at the hands of Lupin in his Werewolf form.
What galled Snape most was that James Potter, of all people, had ultimately saved his life.
Now, his long-coveted Defence Against the Dark Arts position had been snatched away by an old nemesis, and Snape found himself resenting Dumbledore too...
He'd been NTR'd yet again!
It took tremendous willpower for Wayne not to laugh aloud - Snape's current expression was simply too entertaining, with his facial muscles twitching uncontrollably.
What a shame he couldn't whip out a camera to capture the moment.
Wayne wasn't the only one who noticed Snape's transformation. The atmosphere in the Great Hall grew oddly tense as everyone momentarily forgot to applaud.
Truth be told, Wayne was partly to blame.
While clearing the battlefield earlier, he'd incidentally dealt with Harry's Dementor too, depriving Lupin of his chance to shine.
Combined with the Defence Against the Dark Arts position's notorious reputation and Lupin's shabby appearance, nobody had particularly high expectations.
Professor McGonagall sighed inwardly and began clapping.
Seeing their Head of House take the lead, the Gryffindor students naturally followed suit. The scattered, lacklustre applause at least completed the welcome ceremony.
Fortunately, Lupin didn't seem to mind.
He'd only taken the teaching post to make ends meet - without earning soon, he'd literally starve to death.
Finally, having concluded his announcements, Dumbledore sat down as gleaming plates filled with food appeared before them.
The ravenous young witches and wizards immediately tucked in. Having eaten plenty on the train, Wayne wasn't particularly hungry, but Toby and Norman, who'd skipped snacks, each grabbed a whole chicken and began devouring it.
"Didn't you two buy any snacks on the train?" Wayne asked curiously.
"Got too carried away having fun and forgot," Toby mumbled through a mouthful before continuing to eat voraciously.
"And what about you?" Wayne turned to Cedric across the table, whose mouth was stuffed with baked beans and a chunk of roast pork.
Struggling to swallow everything, Cedric took another large gulp of lemonade before speaking. "Percy talks far too much. He recited the school rules twice over. When the food trolley came by, he was still droning on, so I couldn't buy anything at all."
"I genuinely regret becoming a Prefect now."
"Between Quidditch commitments, who has time to humour his bureaucratic nonsense?" By the end, Cedric could already picture his miserable existence for the coming year.
With appetites sated, the table gradually returned to its original quiet state.
The young wizards began dispersing to their common rooms, and Dumbledore, too, had unfinished business to attend to.
Returning to his office, he immediately picked up a quill to write to Fudge.
Dumbledore harboured considerable dissatisfaction about the Dementors' arrival.
Yet matters had progressed to this point. Forcing Fudge to withdraw the Dementors now would undoubtedly burn all bridges.
Truthfully, Dumbledore and Fudge currently had no substantial conflicts.
But after so many years as Minister for Magic, Fudge had begun nurturing certain... ambitions.
Sending Dementors served two purposes: firstly, to genuinely capture Sirius Black, and secondly, to assert his independence. He no longer wished to exist perpetually in Dumbledore's shadow.
Let the world see that even when Hogwarts faced problems, Cornelius Fudge could handle them.
Dumbledore understood this as well.
But some lines couldn't be crossed. Under no circumstances could Dementors be allowed into the school grounds – this was meant to be a sanctuary for students.
This incident with Wayne provided the perfect opportunity to remind Fudge not to overstep his bounds subtly.
...
Hufflepuff common room.
As the house with the most dormitories, they'd previously maintained a three-to-a-room arrangement. However, with the sudden influx of new students, this year's intake would have to accommodate four students per room.
After room assignments came the obligatory... networking.
Ahem, no.
That is, getting acquainted with senior students to avoid future pitfalls.
Wayne smiled at the cluster of first-years, delivering the same speech he'd given the previous year.
Last year, there'd been a senior named Grace who kept teasing him, but now throughout Hufflepuff...
From top to bottom!
Who wasn't his friend?
The new students trembled like quails, Rolf blending into the crowd.
Now he understood why his grandparents had repeatedly warned him not to follow Wayne's example.
Even if he wanted to, he couldn't possibly replicate this!
Why did this scene resemble his grandfather's descriptions of Slytherin so much?
"Rolf, come here," Wayne suddenly beckoned.
Rolf blinked, then obediently stepped forward.
Wayne slung an arm around his shoulders, announcing to the assembled badgers: "This is Rolf, my relative. Like me, he's introverted, easily shy, and not much of a talker."
The upper-year Hufflepuffs: "..."
Never mind, just carry on.
The statement contained too many questionable elements to even begin addressing.
"He's your relative?" Cedric examined Rolf with surprise. "Why didn't you mention this earlier?"
"Now isn't too late," Wayne replied smoothly. "Before coming to Hogwarts, Rolf's family asked me to look after him. Let's all get acquainted."
"If anyone has... disagreements with Rolf in future, don't act rashly. Let me have a little chat with them instead."
The badgers nodded earnestly, thumping their chests with promises to watch over Rolf.
As for whether other houses might trouble him...
This news will spread by tonight. There probably wasn't a soul in the school foolish enough to provoke someone under Wayne's protection anymore.
Under so many stares, Rolf could practically dig out a penthouse apartment with his toes.
Fortunately, Wayne released him to mingle with classmates.
Thanks to Wayne's influence, many enthusiastic badgers brought out their treasured snacks to share. Gradually, Rolf's tension eased.
...
Back in the dormitory, Norman excitedly rummaged through his trunk, producing a handheld console.
But he and Toby soon looked crestfallen.
"Still not working, even though it worked fine on the train."
"You actually brought gaming consoles?" Only now did Wayne realise what had captivated them so completely during the journey that they'd skipped meals.
"Of course! I brought loads of batteries too." Norman moved aside, revealing a dozen game cases in his trunk.
Wayne had played with his roommates a few times over the summer – both were textbook cases of "all enthusiasm, no skill".
"If you really want to play, try going near the Forbidden Forest," Wayne suggested, watching their dejected expressions. "Far enough from the castle, your consoles should work there."
"But do you have enough batteries? There's nowhere to charge them at school."
"That's where you come in, Wayne." Norman and Toby exchanged glances before simultaneously pouncing, each grabbing one of Wayne's legs.
"You're such a genius—you can definitely invent a spell to charge game consoles, right?"
"So that's your plan?" Wayne said dryly, eyeing their shameless expressions.
"We're just showing faith in your abilities," Toby said with a grin. "Help us out, yeah? It'll be fun for everyone."
"I'll think about it." Wayne didn't outright refuse. If he had time, he might look into it.
Using magic as a power bank sounded absurd, but it wasn't impossible.
After all, magic could accomplish far more ridiculous things—this was nothing.
Norman handed Wayne the unusable game console for experimentation before he and Toby scampered off to the common room to play.
Meanwhile, Wayne took out several gemstones to craft small devices for Hermione and the others to ward off Dementors.
They'd suffice until they mastered the Patronus Charm.
The technique involved was simple—almost embarrassingly so.
He merely channelled powerful 'positive energy' into the gems, then carved runes for storage and activation. Done.
For anyone else, the challenge wouldn't lie in the latter steps but in infusing the magical power.
Who besides him—with his freakishly powerful Patronus—could terrify Dementors with just a wisp of energy?
Any imitations would be hollow replicas, utterly useless.
He finished several in no time.
Wayne even transfigured Galleons into brooch shapes, embedding the gems inside as subtle accessories.
...
Early the next morning.
When Wayne entered the Great Hall and spotted Hermione and Ginny, he headed straight for the Gryffindor table.
Before he could speak, Hermione blurted out:
"I heard one of this year's first-years is your relative. Why didn't you mention it before?"
"It spread that fast?" Wayne glanced around. "Who told you?"
"Hannah and Susan were just talking about it—half the hall overheard." Hermione passed him hot milk and eggs. "Keeping secrets from us? What's the big idea?"
"Well..." Wayne leaned in, whispering Rolf's identity into her ear. Her eyes widened, and he hastily clapped a hand over her mouth.
Watching their furtive exchange, Ginny nearly combusted with curiosity.
What juicy gossip are you hiding? Spill it!
Sensing her desperation, Wayne waved her off. "Give it up. You're about as discreet as Hagrid—no one would dare tell you anything."
Yesterday on the train, Ginny had blabbed about how many times Percy kissed his girlfriend. If Wayne told her, Rolf's secret wouldn't last till tomorrow.
"Hmph. Fine." Ginny viciously bit into a sausage, baring her little fangs.
Wayne felt a chill. "Do you want that protective charm or not?"
"You finished them already?" Instantly brightening, Ginny scurried over to wheedle him.
"That was my outside voice. Don't be cross with me!"
"Go on, say something nicer." Wayne remained unmoved. Wasn't this the perfect opportunity to assert control?
Ginny's eyes darted as she spouted a stream of sickeningly sweet compliments.
The surrounding young wizards nearly shuddered from secondhand embarrassment, wishing they could distance themselves.
Yet curiosity lingered – what was this 'protective charm' Wayne had mentioned earlier?
"Ginny, what are you doing?" An incredulous voice came from behind. Ginny turned to see Ron and Harry standing there, mouths agape.
"Oh, mind your own business." After a brief glance, Ginny ignored Ron completely. She opened her mouth to continue, but Wayne stopped her.
Even he found it cringeworthy...
Wayne produced two brooches, handing them to Hermione and Ginny.
"This little thing can really repel Dementors?" Ginny examined it for a long moment before pinning it to her school robes, though scepticism remained.
"Don't worry, it'll last at least three months."
"It can resist Dementors?" Harry perked up. He hadn't slept all night, haunted by that icy sensation and a woman's screams.
Not just him – other young wizards immediately crowded closer.
"Wayne, I'd like to buy one." Neville produced his purse, still shaken from yesterday's fright. "How much?"
"One Galleon, valid for two months." Wayne produced another brooch, similar in design, though made of silver without gemstones.
For mass sales, he naturally wouldn't use Galleons as raw materials. Using Sickles would already be generous, let alone embedding gemstones.
After all, it was just a vessel – the materials made no difference.
Hearing it cost only one Galleon, Neville immediately bought three. With his poor memory, extras would prevent panic if he lost one.
"Me next, I want one too!"
"Wayne, two for me!"
"Stop pushing, I'm buying as well!"
Within moments, Wayne's group found themselves surrounded by an enthusiastic crowd.
Fresh term meant plump purses, and with Dementors stationed around the school, nobody knew when they'd catch Black – many opted for this insurance.
Upon pinning the badges to their chests, they immediately noticed the difference.
Spirits lifted, moods improved.
As students shared their experiences, even the hesitant joined the frenzy, pushing Harry and Ron to the periphery.
This wasn't a placebo – the effect was genuine.
Wayne had deliberately designed the magic-storing runes with slight leaks, allowing gradual magical dispersion.
The powerful Patronus Charm's magic subtly enhanced mental states.
The trade-off was reduced longevity – maximum two months before effectiveness waned.
Perfect timing for another sales wave.
But the students weren't shortchanged; this was pure 'positive energy'.
Jostled aside by the crowd, Ron eyed his best friend curiously:
"Harry, aren't you buying one? Seems really effective."
His own poverty explained abstention, but why wasn't wealthy Harry purchasing?
"No rush." Harry shook his head. "I'll wait until Wayne's less busy."
Soon, Wayne's hastily crafted badges sold out. Disappointment weighed heavily on those left empty-handed.
"Wayne, not even one left?"
"Well, if you want to buy one, you'll have to wait until tomorrow. We're really sold out for today."
"Alright." The young wizard who failed to make a purchase left disappointed, while those who acted quickly were overjoyed, sharing their excitement with companions.
Some even bought extras for friends to try.
The moment someone pinned on their badge, they immediately dashed off: "This is brilliant! I'll get you one tomorrow!"
"Get back here!"
"Wayne, do you have a plus, promax or ultra version?" Harry finally approached and asked once the crowd dispersed.
He knew Wayne all too well - the man had turned profiteering into an art form.
That's why he didn't compete with the other young witches and wizards for those ordinary items.
"Fixed price, ten Galleons," Wayne said without mincing words with the heir. "Guaranteed you can solo a Dementor if you encounter one."
Harry directly gave Wayne eleven Galleons: "Get an ordinary one for Ron too."
"Harry..." Ron was moved, his gaze towards Harry shifting noticeably.
Ginny watched the two with a strange expression.
She subtly edged further away from her brother.
These two... something's not right!