With Professor McGonagall keeping the chaos somewhat in check, all it really did was make everyone act more discreetly. Over the course of the day, Wayne still managed to hang more than a dozen people.
A few of them were even familiar faces from yesterday.
That stubborn persistence earned a touch of his respect—so he upped the ante: not only did he hang them from the ceiling, he threw in a few nasty curses for free.
By evening, Cedric intercepted Wayne just as he was about to leave the common room.
"You're still planning to go to Snape's class?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Wayne looked surprised. "I already paid the tuition."
"What if he retaliates against you?" Cedric tried to persuade him. "Maybe skip it this time. If there's anything you don't understand, you can ask the rest of us—lots of people here get pretty good marks in Potions."
"Yeah, Wayne," another badger chimed in, "Snape's bound to take this chance to avenge his students."
"What if he curses you?"
"Let's just not go."
The other Hufflepuffs all spoke up, concerned for him.
"No need to worry, everyone," Wayne reassured them. "Sure, Snape's unreasonable, has no sense of personal hygiene, and his voice is even worse than a Mandrake's scream…
"But he is a professor. He wouldn't actually attack a little wizard like me."
Besides, Wayne's potion skills had improved dramatically in the past two days. He'd been itching to show off in front of Snape—just to enjoy the man's shocked expression.
No way was he skipping it.
"But—" Cedric started again, but Wayne had already slipped out, leaving him with no choice but to give up.
Near eight o'clock, Wayne arrived at Snape's office as if he'd done it a hundred times.
He didn't bother knocking—just pushed the door open and walked in.
Unusually, Snape wasn't sitting there pretending to read the paper as he often did.
Instead, he stared straight at Wayne.
"You came."
"I came."
"You shouldn't have."
"But I paid my tuition," Wayne replied sharply. "What, are you planning to stiff me?"
Snape choked on the retort and took a long moment to swallow his temper.
"What's the lesson today?" Wayne walked over to his usual workbench, only to find it bare. He frowned in confusion.
Snape slowly rose to his feet.
He pushed both hands outward to either side.
The storage cabinets, workbenches, and assorted clutter in the room slid rapidly backward, the available space expanding in seconds.
In no time, the office was completely empty—and now about the size of a Quidditch pitch.
"Today's lesson is not Potions," Snape said, a faintly mocking smile tugging at his lips, "but Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"So, you're a pretty good fighter, aren't you? Using a spell I invented to hang my students on walls."
"Lawrence, I haven't asked you yet—where did you learn Levicorpus?"
Snape's gaze was probing. Back in his day, Levicorpus had been wildly popular—he took pride in it—but over time, as more and more of its users ended up in Azkaban, the ones who still knew it were either former Death Eaters or James Potter's old crowd.
"Such a simple spell? I thought it up myself—didn't need anyone to teach me."
Without a sound, Wayne activated Occlumency, meeting Snape's eyes without the slightest fear.
It wasn't even a lie. Even if the system's rewards hadn't included Levicorpus, with his talent, he could have figured it out easily.
"Still, Slytherin has really broadened my horizons. Beat up the juniors, and the seniors come running."
"Sharp-tongued brat."
Snape's eyes flashed with anger at hearing his proud creation dismissed like that, but he didn't doubt Wayne's words—the boy had the ability to back them up.
Swish!
A wand appeared in Snape's hand.
"Lawrence, consider this your free duelling lesson."
With the wand in his grip, his entire presence shifted—gone was the brooding stillness, replaced by something tall and commanding.
"Professor, are you sure you want to fight me?" Wayne grinned playfully. "If you lose to me, won't your dignity go right out the window?"
He glanced at his own stats panel:
[Host: Wayne Lawrence]
Magic Power: 1.3 Snape (Snape = unit of measure)
Mastered Spells: Shattering Charm, Judgement by Lightning, Aegis, Disarming Charm, Patronus Charm, Fiendfyre…
Strength Rating: Professor level (full talent unleashed) / Professor level (normal state)
In terms of magical power, Wayne had already surpassed Snape.
Don't be fooled by that 0.3 difference—Snape's power level was not ordinary; his magical reserves were several times that of an average adult wizard.
As for strength rating, his normal state had already reached professor level.
When unleashing his full talent, he was still at professor level—yet definitely much stronger than the baseline.
After all, the magical world's strength classifications were vague. The "style" of Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and the Dark Lord was simply in another league compared to everyone else.
That's why everyone feared and respected them so much—these three could not be handled by just sending a squad of Aurors.
Even Wayne himself wasn't entirely sure of his current place on the power scale.
Snape's challenge came at just the right time.
Snape wasn't an ordinary professor either. If not for being emotionally scarred, perhaps the wizarding world might have had a third Dark Lord.
"Arrogant brat…"
Snape, always ready to enter combat, ignored Wayne's provocation.
Today, he had to teach this boy a lesson.
"As you wish, then."
Wayne also drew his wand.
"You know the rules of a duel, Lawrence. Bow."
Snape inclined slightly; Wayne did the same.
Their movements were almost in sync—yet the instant they straightened, their wands snapped up, pointing at each other.
Snape's casting was just a fraction slower, intentionally so.
Dueling a first-year and still trying to snatch the first strike would be beneath him… even if his opponent was Wayne Lawrence—a boy Dumbledore himself claimed was no less talented than the young Voldemort.
But as he leisurely waited to counter, Snape saw Wayne's feral grin… the wand movement he recognized… and that flash of emerald light.
His calm expression vanished, replaced with scalp-prickling alarm.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Wayne shouted the words that made every wizard's blood run cold.
!!!
"Serpensortia!"
Snape nearly lost his mind, summoning a huge serpent at top speed to shield himself.
The Killing Curse couldn't be blocked by a Shield Charm—only by a physical barrier. That snake was meant to take the hit for him.
Was Wayne trying to get sent to Azkaban for higher education?!
Opening with Avada—you think you're the Dark Lord himself?!
Bang! Bang!
Snape froze in place.
The snake wasn't dead. Instead, the green curse hit it and burst into a spray of fireworks.
Fake…?
It was fake?!
"Professor, why so nervous?" Wayne said with an innocent smile.
"I'm a Hufflepuff—how could I possibly use an Unforgivable Curse on my professor? I was just… lightening the mood."
"Lighten your mood, my—!"
Snape snapped, eyes blazing red.
Powerful magic burst from the tip of his wand, instantly becoming three separate curses streaking toward Wayne.
"Today, no one can save you!"
"I mean it!"
"Lawrence, you little—!"
Realizing he had just been played, Snape immediately exploded in anger.
Three spells, almost simultaneous, flew toward Wayne.
Silent spells, multi-casting, flying faster than ordinary magic.
Even just these techniques were enough to demonstrate Snape's power.
With dynamic perception, Wayne lightly flicked his wand, deflecting all three spells consecutively. They slammed into the office floor, blasting out modest-sized craters.
"Tch, such power, Professor! I'm still a child, you know!"
He teased verbally while his wand launched two spells in response. His posture was upright, fully in combat mode, radiating immense pressure.
Feeling the latent power within the spells, Snape's expression darkened slightly. He waved his robes, channeling magic in tandem with his Armor Charm, just enough to block the two incoming spells.
"Only Dumbledore would still consider you a child! In my eyes, you're a monster!"
Snape stretched out his hand, and a wardrobe hurtled toward Wayne from afar, roaring through the air.
Wayne clenched his fist. The flying wardrobe shattered into pieces midair, the fragments clashing against their Armor Charms and falling uselessly to the floor.
"Expelliarmus!"
Two red beams collided in midair, crackling with electric sparks. The duel reached a standoff—commonly called a counter-wave.
"Where is this boy getting all this magical power from?"
Snape thought, astonished. He had to exert all his focus just to maintain an upper hand in magical strength.
"Professor, show more of your power!"
Wayne stepped forward. The scales of victory began to tip in his favor. The convergence of magic kept shifting toward Snape.
Even though Wayne's magical level matched Snape's and his disarmament skill was equally proficient, his innate Holy Spirit talent still gave him an edge—the spells themselves were more powerful.
Hiss!
The wood on the ground suddenly transformed into several pythons. One forcefully charged into the spell clash, breaking it, then shattered into pieces again.
The others slithered forward.
Wayne raised his wand high, drawing elegant arcs like a conductor performing a symphony.
Lightning nets surged down from above with his movements.
The office became a battlefield. Spells collided, scattering in all directions. Craters of various sizes appeared. Roars of beasts could occasionally be heard.
Strong magical power radiated from both of them, causing their robes to move as if in a windless storm.
Snape completely lost the superiority he had at the start. He now regarded Wayne as a fully equal opponent.
Excluding Dark Magic, Snape couldn't possibly defeat this boy in a short time, even with his strongest offensive spells.
Wayne, meanwhile, still held countless hidden cards. He hadn't yet unleashed the Decree of The Thunder Lord, and his most powerful spells were being saved for later. He wanted to test the limits of his normal strength first.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three scorching fireballs shot from Snape's wand, only to be blown apart by Wayne's magic, scattering sparks across the room.
"Hah!"
Snape clenched his fist at his lips and blew gently. The flames reformed, shaping into three giant fire serpents.
"That scared me! I thought you were going to use Inferno, Professor," Wayne said with a smile. He cast a few spells, first forcing back the fiery serpents, then wrapping them in golden light that flowed like silk.
"Finite!"
He had even learned Finite!
Snape's heart skipped a beat.
Finite is an advanced spell, capable of even extinguishing Inferno.
But usually, several wizards must cooperate to cast it; it is extremely difficult. Only those with profound magical strength can use it alone.
The once-arrogant fire serpents were firmly suppressed and eventually vanished.
A strange blue gleam flashed in Wayne's black, onyx-like eyes.
"Wordless Terror!"
A completely silent mental spell was unleashed. Snape's hand froze the instant he raised it.
Before him appeared the scene of the day Wayne had gone to Godric's Hollow and found Lily among the ruins.
"No!"
Tears involuntarily streamed from Snape's eyes. He let out a heart-wrenching scream. But as the most powerful double agent, he quickly realized it was Wayne's attack. Using sheer willpower, he struggled to break free.
Yet in a duel between experts, even a second of distraction is a fatal mistake.
By the time he refocused, Wayne was already standing before him.
Bang!
Ten minutes later.
Snape held a cold towel against his right eye, while the other eye fixed intently on Wayne.
"You are a wizard, not a troll! Who told you you can use your fists in a duel? That's cheating—I don't accept it!"
"Hiss!"
In his agitation, the wound throbbed, forcing Snape to grit his teeth.
Wayne sat on a soft sofa, unable to suppress a chuckle at the sight.
The outcome was already clear.
First-year student Wayne had defeated the famous Half-Blood Prince, Professor Snape.
Yet Snape felt his loss was unjust. Wayne had suddenly struck with an invisible, never-before-seen mental spell. Even after using all his willpower to break free, he had barely shielded himself with an Armor Charm, expecting the next attack.
Then, once again unexpectedly, Wayne used a super-strong illumination spell. The sudden brilliance nearly blinded him, slowing the formation of his Armor Charm. And then… he got hit by a solid punch.
In summary… no honor in dueling!
"Professor…" Wayne grinned at Snape's panda-like eyes.
"You are the Slytherin who uses any means to achieve your goals. How can you not understand such a simple rule?"
"As long as you can win, forget fists. One wand in one hand, a sword in the other—no problem at all."
"Gryffindor was just like that back in the day, still hailed as the greatest duel masters of the time."
"The Sorting Hat really must be going blind…"
Snape sneered, waving his wand to restore the office to its original state. Then, ironically, he poured a potion into his eye:
"Someone like you getting into Hufflepuff? Helga would be ashamed if she knew."
"What kind of comment is that?" Wayne frowned.
"Losing gracefully, not losing your manners. And you still throw personal attacks?"
"Hmph!"
Unable to argue, Snape fell silent and took out several more potions to reduce the swelling in his eye.
Soon, the treatment worked. However, a ring of bruising remained—it seemed today's damage wouldn't fully heal.
After a while, he sat back opposite Wayne. The atmosphere was slightly heavy.
Neither spoke first. Snape was still calming his thoughts.
Only now did he gain a direct understanding of Wayne's talent—or more accurately, his actual strength.
A wizard who could battle him to this extent deserved more than just a comment on innate talent.
Wayne Lawrence, a newcomer to the magical world, was already a true powerhouse.
Snape was certain that even Voldemort in his early magical years had never shown such insane strength.
This boy… could he be Merlin reincarnated?
Across from him, Wayne was also deep in thought, reviewing their duel and analyzing his own mistakes.