The next day, Professor Lupin fell ill, so Snape took over the third-year Defence Against the Dark Arts class.
He began nitpicking the moment the lesson started.
"I've reviewed your essays on how to detect and kill werewolves, and I must say I'm deeply disappointed."
Snape's unfriendly gaze swept across the silent classroom.
"Amidst pages of drivel, only one word stood out—"
"Childish!"
His suddenly raised voice made the students jump.
"These are werewolves! The most dangerous, despicable and repulsive creatures in the wizarding world. Where is your vigilance?" Snape spoke through gritted teeth, his tone dripping with personal animosity.
"Do you honestly think Stunning Spells or Disarming Charms can harm a werewolf?"
"With their thick hides, those spells wouldn't even qualify as a decent scratch!"
Seamus muttered under his breath, "But those are the only spells we know."
"Mr Finnigan, you seem to disagree?" Snape's sharp ears caught the remark as his icy stare fixed on Seamus.
"No, sir. I agree with you," Seamus stood under Neville's admiring gaze.
"But I wrote down every spell I've learned."
"Ah, but you missed one," Snape sneered. "Your penchant for explosive magic might actually inconvenience a werewolf. In that regard, you're marginally less useless than these other dunderheads."
A ripple of laughter spread through the classroom – Snape's barb was too cutting to ignore.
"You find this amusing?" Snape's voice turned dangerous. "This was merely an essay, not an actual encounter with a werewolf."
"If you believe yourselves incapable of mastering advanced magic, you may as well drop this subject."
"Now, turn to the final chapter of your textbooks. Let me educate you about... a werewolf's weaknesses."
...
After class, Wayne and Hermione walked out together.
The young witch looked troubled, having received a poor grade from Snape.
"It doesn't affect your final marks. Why worry?" Wayne patted her head reassuringly.
"Who said I'm worried?" Hermione gave him a strange look. "I think Snape's being biased!"
"Biased?" Wayne frowned.
"You barely wrote three lines, yet he gave you full marks!" Hermione huffed.
"You're competing over this now?" Wayne stared at her in disbelief. Had her competitiveness reached these heights?
"I just want fairness," she pouted.
"Seems perfectly fair to me," Wayne chuckled. "Even with a Stunning Spell, I could put a Werewolf to permanent sleep."
Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again. She couldn't argue with that logic.
They reached the Great Hall, where a crowd had gathered around the noticeboard. Soon, they learned why.
Next Wednesday evening, Lupin would give a public lecture in the Great Hall, teaching everyone how to cast the Patronus Charm.
There would only be one session. Whether more followed would depend on its success.
"Are you signing up?" Hermione asked with amusement in her eyes, looking at the boy. "Or perhaps you could substitute for Professor Lupin's class."
"I'll probably drop by for the fun of it." Wayne stroked his chin, genuinely curious about what animal forms everyone's Patronus Charms would take.
Suddenly, someone called out to him from behind.
Harry approached.
"Wayne, I've nearly mastered the Shield Charm and Banishing Charm," Harry said. "Could you teach me the Patronus Charm this Saturday?"
Wayne pointed at the noticeboard. "Isn't Professor Lupin about to start public classes?"
Harry shook his head. "Public classes are too crowded – the results won't be great. And... I trust you more."
Initially, Harry hadn't been particularly fixated on learning the Patronus Charm, thinking the Patronus badge he'd bought would suffice.
But his experience during the match made him realise he ultimately had to rely on himself – external aids could fail when least expected.
Ron had told him how Wayne had single-handedly vanquished hundreds of Dementors. His Patronus Charm must be even more powerful than Lupin's.
"Fine then." Wayne nodded indifferently. Paid lessons were paid lessons, after all.
"I'll check with Malfoy. If he has no objections, we'll study the Patronus this Saturday."
"I agree."
According to Hogwarts' spatial laws, unless under specific circumstances, where there was Harry, there would inevitably be Malfoy.
Even Wayne hadn't noticed when Malfoy had appeared nearby before he suddenly emerged.
Malfoy stared at Harry, delivering his habitual taunt: "Potter, don't cry when your Patronus turns out to be a toad."
"Same to you," Harry shot back. "Yours might be a rat that turns tail at the sight of Dementors."
Ron, who'd remained silent until now: "..."
What's wrong with rats? Did rats steal your food?
...
Saturday arrived swiftly, and with it, the second Quidditch Match of the season.
Today's match pitted Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw.
From the previous evening, Cedric had slipped into a peculiar state of nervous excitement, dragging his teammates out under moonlight for two gruelling hours of tactical drills.
Even after returning, he hadn't released them, droning on until midnight before finally letting them sleep.
Wayne thought he was becoming rather Wood-like.
Fortunately, the badgers were good-natured folk, equally eager to secure their first match victory, so they bore his intense training without complaint.
Early that morning, Cedric led his team to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Even Wayne, an outsider, was summoned – Cedric insisted he stand by in case any player collapsed from nerves.
However, everyone remained in decent shape until match time, much to Wayne's slight disappointment.
Nearly the entire school turned out for the match, with the teachers' stands packed to capacity.
Dumbledore stood at the highest point of the stands, radiating an aura of security. Even if Dementors appeared again, with both Wayne and Dumbledore present, there was nothing to fear.
While Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw naturally supported their own houses, the two neutral houses quickly chose sides.
Scanning the crowd, Wayne noted a sea of Ravenclaw blue, with Hufflepuff's yellow barely visible.
What could one do?
Ravenclaw simply had more girls.
Including Cho, Ravenclaw had four female players in total, each radiating heroic bearing. In stark contrast, Hufflepuff...
Was an entire team of rough-looking lads.
Bang!
Wayne raised his wand, spewing thick smoke that transformed into a swarm of tiny yellow badgers galloping across the sky, barely salvaging some semblance of momentum.
Cho shot Wayne a sharp glance, snorted lightly, and focused entirely on awaiting the match's start.
With Madam Hooch's signal, the game began.
Cho and Cedric shot upwards first, followed by Lee Jordan's excited commentary.
"Merlin's beard, I can hardly believe this is a school match! Both Seekers have Firebolts – something even many professional teams haven't achieved."
"Just two days ago, the Chudley Cannons lost thirty to three hundred and fifty against Puddlemere United precisely because they lacked Firebolts!"
Cedric's broom wobbled violently during his high-speed manoeuvre.
Wasn't this psychological warfare!
The Chudley Cannons were his favourite team.
"Harry, pay close attention to this match," Wood said earnestly to Harry from the Gryffindor stands.
"These two teams are our biggest competitors for the championship."
"I understand," Harry nodded seriously, though he felt a pang of sadness.
He thought of his Nimbus, which had been snapped in two.
The good news was that he could use the Firebolt in the next match, which was stronger than the Nimbus.
But after all, that broom had accompanied him for two years. Pretending not to be sad would be dishonest. Besides, the Firebolt didn't belong to him—Hermione had lent it to Gryffindor.
...
Thanks to Cedric's thorough preparations before the match and their superior brooms, Hufflepuff quickly established a lead.
Several new players also performed remarkably well, leaving Lee Jordan thoroughly impressed.
"The Parkin Pincer tactic, the Hawkhead offensive formation—I can hardly believe this is a team that's just undergone major restructuring. Their captain really knows his stuff."
The score soon reached eighty to ten, and a flicker of anxiety flashed in Cho's eyes.
She flew higher to survey the pitch for the Golden Snitch, while Cedric chose to patrol at a lower altitude, keeping an eye on Cho's movements.
Ten minutes later, they spotted the Snitch almost simultaneously and began their sprint. But before they could get close, the Golden Snitch fluttered its wings and vanished again.
Before Cedric could react, Cho suddenly dove. He hurriedly followed.
About ten metres above the ground, Cho wrenched her nearly vertical broom horizontal, hovering mid-air, while Cedric, reacting too slowly, almost crashed into the ground.
"A Wronski Feint!" Lee Jordan exclaimed excitedly. "A perfectly executed Wronski Feint! Diggory was sent spinning like a wild dog—this girl is too cool!"
Beside Lee, Professor McGonagall also applauded Cho's brilliant flying manoeuvre.
"She's accelerating again—is she going for another one?"
"No, she's actually spotted the Golden Snitch! Closer, closer!"
Cedric noticed Cho's move too, but having charged too aggressively earlier, by the time he adjusted his position and sped up, Cho had already surged ahead and successfully caught the Golden Snitch.
"One hundred and seventy to one hundred and fifty! Congratulations to Ravenclaw for narrowly winning this thrilling match!"
Excited cheers erupted from the stands as Ravenclaw's little eagles chanted Cho's name.
"How have you improved so much?"
As players from both teams landed, Cedric asked with a wry smile.
He hadn't expected to become the weakest link in his team.
Everyone else had performed excellently. If Cho had spotted the Golden Snitch a few minutes later, even if she'd caught it, the victors would still have been Hufflepuff.
"Luck, plus a little effort?" Cho smiled, though her gaze unconsciously drifted toward the Hufflepuff stands.
That was purely a diplomatic answer.
Only she knew the real reason.
After learning the Meditation Technique Wayne had taught her, Cho found her focus had sharpened significantly, making her more perceptive than before.
There were also the potions Wayne had given her during the summer, which had greatly enhanced her stamina and agility.
That was how she'd managed to pull off such a high-difficulty Wronski Feint.
Over in the Gryffindor section, Wood's expression was grim, and the rest of the team didn't look much better.
This match revealed many things. Hufflepuff was strong overall with excellent tactical execution, while Ravenclaw's Seeker possessed formidable individual skills that made her particularly difficult to counter.
"Harry, you can catch the Golden Snitch, right?" Wood looked at him expectantly.
Harry felt a pang of bitterness in his heart.
Neither of these... would be easy to deal with.
...
Afternoon.
Inside the suitcase world.
A group of girls sat on the lakeside lawn enjoying afternoon tea, while Wayne conjured a workbench and patiently carved runes onto pendants.
Seeing him work so hard, Cho approached with a slice of cheesecake.
"Open up."
"Ah~"
Wayne lifted his head, enjoying the girl's feeding while never pausing in his work.
After a while, having finished another pendant, Wayne joined the girls.
"All done?" Penelope asked.
"Far from it. There are still over two hundred left to make." Wayne stretched and sighed, lying directly across Hermione's lap.
"Two hundred?" The girls gasped. Cho looked at him in surprise. "You've been busy these past few days. Who ordered so many?"
"Fifteen Ministries of Magic, nearly five hundred orders." Wayne held up his palm. "Already halfway there!"
"An order that big must be worth a fortune?" Astoria counted on her fingers.
The shortcomings of wizarding education became apparent when the wealthy young girl, despite much effort, failed to calculate the exact sum and eventually gave up.
"Where did you get all these orders?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
Wayne smiled. "When you have one friend, they'll introduce you to countless others."
"And making friends is what we Hufflepuffs do best."
"I won't make much profit from these orders either. Consider it friendship-building."
Hermione pursed her lips, unconvinced by Wayne's nonsense.
Among Wayne's many notable qualities, one stood out particularly – his pettiness.
To spite and undermine Scrimgeour, he was willing to sell these protective devices at reduced prices just to arm other Ministries of Magic.
The contacts old Grindelwald had introduced were proven reliable. Within two days of receiving his letter, they'd responded, promising to do everything possible to help Wayne secure the deals.
Judging by the water stains on the parchment, it was clear they'd written their replies through tears.
Having gone decades without news of Grindelwald, seeing his signature Deathly Hallows symbol had understandably overwhelmed these loyal followers.
A few days ago, the Daily Prophet had carried more than just criticism of the Dementor incident. In an inconspicuous corner, a small notice announced a security conference to be held in France next March, where Aurors from various countries would engage in some 'exchange'.
Wayne could hardly wait to see Scrimgeour's defeated expression when the time came.
"Right then!" The boy sat up and clapped his hands.
"Enough rest. Time for training – and no slacking off, Astoria."
The wealthy young girl's face fell as she reluctantly stood up.
...
Monday. The sky was unusually clear.
Warm sunlight bathed the castle, helping the young witches and wizards start the new week in relatively good spirits.
After breakfast, they arrived at the tower, where Trelawney had predicted before class that one student in the class would need to retake an exam due to poor grades, making everyone nervous.
Today, each desk held a crystal ball filled with thick smoke.
Wayne stared at it for a long time before concluding that Neville would get a thrashing from his grandmother over the Christmas holidays.
The terrified little chubby boy decided not to go home this Christmas.
In the next Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall, dissatisfied with many students' progress, unusually kept them late.
"Is turning a turtle into a slipper really that difficult?"
Faced with the grotesque results in front of Seamus and others, her soul-crushing question left the students silent.
People can do anything when desperate—except this Transfiguration... They really couldn't manage it!
Confronted with these hopeless cases, Professor McGonagall had no choice but to dismiss the class, telling them to practise more.
The young wizards scattered in a rush, hurrying back to the Great Hall to stuff themselves with food. Wayne also grabbed Hermione's small hand and followed at the rear of the crowd.
The moment he entered the Great Hall, someone spotted him and shouted,
"Look, it's Lawrence!"
Whoosh—the noisy hall instantly fell silent as countless heads turned his way.
Wayne: "???"