Wayne knew Hogsmeade intimately.
Having visited numerous times last year with Cho, he now employed that wealth of experience to ensure Hermione's enjoyment.
Speaking of Cho, she'd chosen to spend the day with Marietta today, leaving Wayne and Hermione to their date. Though last night, Wayne's waist had suffered terribly from her pinching...
Hogsmeade boasted three student favourites: the Three Broomsticks, Zonko's Joke Shop, and finally, Honeydukes Sweetshop.
Many students skipped breakfast to save room for treats, so the sweetshop formed the first massive queue—the Three Broomsticks hadn't even opened yet.
Hermione bit her lip at the snaking line. "Should we come back later? This queue will waste so much time."
"No need, follow me." Wayne led her past the crowd straight to the entrance.
"Lawrence! Long time no see." The staff member managing the queue grinned upon spotting him. "Come on in—we've got loads of new stock."
"Hey, do you still have that super sour popping candy?"
"Saved it just for you."
"Thanks, Janice."
Wayne waved his hand and ducked into the shop with the little witch.
The students at the front of the queue protested immediately. "Why does Lawrence get to skip the queue!"
Wayne already had enough privileges at school - exempt from homework in many subjects, even allowed to skip classes as long as he maintained his grades. Now he didn't have to queue for a sweetshop, too?
The world was truly unfair!
The shop assistant flashed a standard professional smile. "Anyone who spends three hundred galleons annually in our shop can enjoy the same queue-skipping privilege."
The young witches who heard this were stunned.
"Th-three hundred galleons' worth of sweets? How much is that?"
"Does Lawrence have a person growing out of his sugar?"
"No wonder," a girl blushed. "I always feel sweetness bubbling up in my heart whenever I see Lawrence..."
Inside the Honeydukes sweet shop, Hermione asked the same question.
Upon learning that Wayne had spent over three hundred Galleons on sweets in a year, she was utterly dumbfounded.
"You don't even like desserts, do you? How could you buy so much? How are your teeth holding up?"
"You know perfectly well how my teeth are," Wayne said with a wink, making the young witch blush as she pinched his arm.
"Stop joking, I'm being serious."
"Those sweets weren't for me to eat," Wayne shrugged, grabbing a large box of Chocolate Frogs and placing it in the trolley. "Last term, I could only get out thanks to Professor Dumbledore's help. Two-thirds of those sweets ended up in his stomach."
"The rest were shared with you lot, and some given to other students, so there wasn't much left."
"A hundred years old and eating so many sweets." Hermione clicked her tongue. "The Headmaster must have terrible teeth."
Perhaps because her father was a dentist, Hermione was particularly sensitive about dental health. She rarely ate sweets herself, only having a piece while revising or doing homework to improve efficiency.
With Dumbledore no longer at school, Wayne didn't need to buy his share anymore. He just picked up some sweets for Astoria before calling it a day.
Leaving the sweet shop, the two headed to Hermione's favourite stationery store.
Compared to the bustling Honeydukes, Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop could only be described as having Troll-level business.
The shopkeeper looked miserable, and as they entered, they overheard him muttering curses about the Ministry of Magic, Dementors, and that damned fugitive Black.
Hermione wanted to buy a special type of notebook that could highlight sections and extract entire paragraphs of notes to insert into other pages—extremely convenient.
Such advanced notebooks weren't cheap, priced at a full Galleon each.
Wayne could actually make them himself, but after studying the process, he found it too tedious with little profit, so he abandoned the idea.
The young witch bought five at once, enough to last her the entire school year.
By noon, they arrived at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.
A handsome young wizard like Wayne would certainly be remembered by the proprietress, but when she saw that the girl accompanying him wasn't the same as before, her expression changed.
It was the look one gives... complete trash.
Hermione covered her mouth, giggling, as Wayne led her to the most secluded corner table.
Entering certain environments unconsciously influences people's behaviour. Upon arriving at the tea shop, Hermione suddenly became much more ladylike, speaking in softer tones.
"What would you like to eat?" Wayne asked, opening the menu.
"Just steak, please, and a cup of peppermint tea."
"Let's add a slice of cheesecake too," Wayne decided for her. "That should be about right."
Hermione nodded obediently.
Soon, their food arrived.
Being far from a couple on their first few awkward dates, there was no stilted conversation between them.
Apart from slightly accelerated heartbeats, everything felt completely normal.
Before they knew it, the conversation turned to the game Wayne was developing.
"You said last term you were going to develop a game. Why hasn't it been finished yet?"
"It's rather complicated," Wayne spread his hands in a bear-like shrug. "This isn't just any ordinary game—it involves too much technology. I'm starting to regret even starting the research, but after putting in so much effort, I have to see it through."
"What exactly is this game?" The more Wayne struggled to explain, the more curious Hermione became, but the boy insisted on keeping it a mystery, refusing to reveal any details.
In the end, all she learned was that the game would be completed by Christmas at the earliest.
After finishing their meal, the two left the teahouse. Hermione planned to buy flying broomstick maintenance tools before heading to the Shrieking Shack.
But halfway there, they heard two panicked cries for help.
"Wayne, help us!"
Norman and Toby were sprinting towards them, pursued by an enormous black dog that was hot on their heels.
"Save us, Wayne!"
"Bloody hell, that's a huge dog," Wayne blurted out in shock.
"Don't just stand there—save Sherlock and the others!" Hermione was equally startled.
The dog stood half as tall as her. If it weren't so scrawny, it would have looked even more terrifying.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
A surge of red magical power struck the black dog squarely. Its limbs stiffened mid-stride, and it collapsed onto the ground with a thud.
Gasping for breath, Norman and Toby staggered to Wayne's side.
"Th-thank goodness, we're saved."
"I'm exhausted," Norman wheezed between breaths.
"Where did this dog come from?" Wayne examined the immobilised black dog, whose only movable part was its eyes.
"The Shrieking Shack," Toby shook his head. "We found it while exploring there."
"Why was it chasing you?" Wayne asked curiously.
Toby scratched his head sheepishly. "W-well, Norman and I wanted to see it pee, and somehow we pissed it off. This dog's practically sentient—it's terrifying!"
Wayne: "..."
He was beginning to realise his roommates were experts at courting disaster.
"Hurry up, Wayne! Once the spell wears off, it'll chase us again," Norman urged.
"No rush. This dog looks pretty skinny—I could take it."
Norman tugged at him desperately. "Black dogs are omens of misfortune! It chased us halfway across town—just leave it alone!"
"Nonsense," Wayne shook his head. "If black dogs were unlucky, Professor Snape would've kicked the bucket ages ago. Step back a bit."
Wayne rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a snack pouch prepared by his thoughtful companion, filled with beef jerky, fried chicken pieces, toast slices, chocolate, and more. She'd packed plenty, worried he might get hungry during classes.
Under the others' apprehensive gazes, Wayne lifted the Body-Bind Curse.
The moment it regained movement, the black dog immediately adopted a defensive stance, tail raised high—but at the sight of the meat strips in Wayne's hand, drool pooled uncontrollably on the ground.
"Want some? Bark twice if you do."
After a brief silence...
"Woof! Woof!"
"Good boy." Wayne tossed a piece of beef jerky, which the dog caught in its massive jaws and swallowed whole.
"Sit." Wayne gestured downward.
"Roll over."
"Backflip. Double backflip. Fetch the plate."
Each command earned the dog another treat—beef jerky or chicken.
Finally, under Hermione and the others' stunned stares, the black dog performed an elaborate "dog catches mouse" routine, swindling the last piece of meat from Wayne's hand.
"Brilliant." The boy reached out to pet the dog, but withdrew his hand upon seeing its dust-covered fur.
"This... this dog is practically sentient." Hermione swallowed hard. "He understands what you're saying?"
"Probably someone's abandoned pet. Clearly well-trained." Wayne clapped his hands dismissively.
Norman and Toby exchanged glances before Toby mustered his courage. "Wayne, got any spare food left?"
"Just bread and chocolate. Here." Wayne handed over the bag.
Toby thanked him, pulled out a piece of bread, and extended it expectantly. "Do a trick? Pee for us?"
The black dog paused mid-chew, fixing Toby with an unblinking stare.
Suddenly, the dog leapt forward, sending Toby scrambling backwards in alarm.
The airborne hound snatched the entire bag from Toby's grip and bolted into the distance without a backwards glance, vanishing swiftly.
"That's so unfair!" Toby wailed, on the verge of tears.
Wayne's mouth twitched.
That had been an Undetectable Extension Charm-enhanced bag...
Ah well. He'd track 'it' down later to reclaim it.
...
This incident delayed Wayne and Hermione considerably. However, after Toby and Norman described the Shrieking Shack's true state, Hermione abruptly lost interest in visiting.
No ghosts or spectres – just a derelict building.
After purchasing flying broomstick maintenance kits, the pair headed straight to the Hog's Head.
Aberforth brightened upon seeing Wayne, though his opening line left Hermione utterly gobsmacked.
"Has my brother finally kicked it? Heard he's been absent from school for ages."
"You'd know better than me." Wayne chuckled, sliding onto a barstool. "If the Headmaster had died, someone would've contacted you about inheriting his vault by now."
Aberforth snorted. "Dementors swarming the school grounds, yet the Headmaster goes missing."
"Bloody fugitives. Haven't made a single sale these past two months!"
The real source of Aberforth's irritation became clear.
The Hog's Head's usual clientele comprised eccentric wizards – often Dark Wizards – conducting shady business. But with Ministry Aurors and Azkaban's Dementors swarming Hogsmeade, no self-respecting Dark Wizard would risk transacting here nowadays.
It'd be a one-way ticket to Azkaban.
Aberforth hadn't sold a single bottle recently, teetering on the brink of closing shop.
Placing fish and chips before them, Aberforth leaned on the counter. "So where is he really?"
"Two months absent – never happened before."
Hermione watched Wayne, too. Many students had noticed Dumbledore's disappearance, though most assumed he was simply preoccupied with duties.
"Voldemort-related." Wayne glanced about. "Where's the ketchup? Can't eat chips without sauce."
"Damn Yankee habits," Aberforth grumbled, but produced the condiment.
"He's found leads on that Dark Lord?"
"There are many leads, and I'm not entirely sure which one the Headmaster is currently pursuing."
He hadn't received any news from Dumbledore recently. The last he'd heard was from Crouch mentioning his trip to Azkaban.
He was probably following Horcrux leads.
That's good too. Elderly people need more activity – staying cooped up in school all day could make them ill.
...
Hermione and Wayne didn't stay at the Hog's Head for too long. After keeping Aberforth company for a chat, it was soon time to return.
All Heads of House except Snape arrived to take attendance, ensuring no young wizards were left behind before leading everyone back to the castle.
The students had thoroughly enjoyed the outing, with many carrying packages that made Wayne's heart ache.
That money should have been his to earn...
Upon their return, Harry had just finished his remedial session with Snape.
"Here." Hermione handed him some sweets and chocolates. "Wayne asked me to bring these for you. How was your day, Harry?"
"Dreadful." Harry clung to the sweets with utter despair. "I had Potions class all day long."
"Aside from me, it was all Slytherins. Snape found every excuse to dock twenty points from me."
Hermione frowned, though she'd grown accustomed to Harry losing points to Snape.
"Look on the bright side – it's extra tutoring from a professor, isn't it?"
"Your final grades won't be too poor."
Harry looked at her: "Your way of comforting people is becoming more and more like Wayne's."
It made sense yet stung, leaving him unsure what expression to wear.
Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly as she changed the subject: "Don't eat sweets now, the feast is about to begin. Save your appetite."
With that, Hermione carried her bag back to the dormitory.
After brief preparations, the young wizards left the common room and entered the redecorated Great Hall.
Hundreds of floating jack-o'-lanterns hovered overhead alongside swarms of live bats, while ghosts weaved between the long tables - this was their holiday.
Tonight's feast was far more lavish than usual. Midway through, Cedric suddenly paused and looked at Wayne beside him.
"Why is your food different from ours?"
"A house-elf made it specially for me. Want to try some?"
As he spoke, Wayne placed a large slice of meat on Cedric's plate.
Cedric took a bite and immediately hissed: "So spicy! Where's the water?"
Only after downing an entire goblet of lemonade did he recover.
"Tastes good, just too spicy. Which house-elf made this?"
"You'll know when you become Headmaster." Wayne sipped his borscht while glancing toward the staff table.
Lupin and Flitwick were chatting animatedly, laughing continuously, completely oblivious to Snape's murderous glares in their direction.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout both had red wine before them, clinking glasses occasionally while enjoying pleasant conversation.
Wayne's gaze finally settled on Trelawney.
Last Halloween, she'd made a genuine prophecy.
Would she continue the tradition this year with another supernatural performance?