Taking a taxi, Wayne arrived once more at the Leaky Cauldron.
The bartender, Tom, remembered the adorable young wizard well.
He even offered Wayne a free butterbeer, insisting he finish it before leaving.
"This butterbeer is just a sweet drink—no alcohol," Tom explained, worried Wayne might mistake it for the real thing. "But if you want the best butterbeer, Three Broomsticks is the place."
"Madam Rosmerta's skill is unmatched. Every time I visit Hogsmeade, I order two. Even better—her husband's dead."
Watching Tom's blissful expression, Wayne was utterly speechless.
After finishing his butterbeer, Wayne tuned out Tom's widow talk and headed to the courtyard.
A smirk curled his lips. 'Here we go, buddy!'
Professor McGonagall had said the trash can was permanently stuck with a Permanent Sticking Charm—Wayne couldn't undo it at his current level.
But that didn't mean he couldn't contribute to the wizarding world. He drew his wand and pointed it at the wall.
"Reparo."
The worn, faded bricks shimmered, restoring themselves to near-perfect condition. Wayne frowned.
"No—too clean. It's obvious."
"Reparo. Reparo. Scourgify."
He worked slowly this time, muttering spells with more precision, adjusting the pressure, stopping between each.
Eventually, he stepped back to inspect his work.
The wall looked solid, clean, and ordinary—just weathered enough to blend in. No one would guess which brick led to the entrance.
Worried one trash can wasn't enough for the bustling Leaky Cauldron, he thought, 'How many times would Tom have to empty it in a day?'
"Geminio!"
A few Duplication Charms later, identical trash cans lined the front. Wayne nodded in satisfaction.
His Duplication Charm wasn't perfect—these copies would last a month at most.
But that was enough.
By the time school started, fewer young wizards would visit. Having done such a great deed, he wouldn't tell Tom—he preferred to stay humble.
Stepping forward to enter Diagon Alley, Wayne suddenly froze.
"Damn—which brick was it again?"
After much effort, Wayne finally made it into Diagon Alley—though his expression remained slightly annoyed.
"Damn it, didn't expect to screw myself over right from the start," Wayne grumbled as he walked along the cobblestone path.
This time he hadn't thought things through—he'd been having too much fun and nearly made a fool of himself.
Compared to his visit a few days ago, Diagon Alley had become even livelier, with crowds gathered outside certain shops.
Wayne squeezed his way over to see what the fuss was about.
It turned out to be Quality Quidditch Supplies. In the most prominent display window were three flying broomsticks, accompanied by a large poster:
"The brand-new Nimbus 2000 Flying Broomstick is now available! Featuring the most advanced acceleration charms, braking charms, and contoured seating for effortless control and unparalleled freedom in the skies."
Nearby, wizards were examining the broomstick's specifications and offering their opinions.
"Five per cent faster acceleration, five per cent better deceleration and shock absorption, five per cent higher top speed—these improvements are minuscule, like squeezing toothpaste," one remarked.
A wizard in a purple cloak sighed, "What can you do? The Cleansweep series is underwhelming, and Comet hasn't released anything new in ten years. Nimbus has a monopoly now."
"Even with such small upgrades, it's still a whole tier above other broomsticks," Wayne mused after listening for a while before stepping into Quality Quidditch Supplies.
While many gathered outside to gawk, few had any intention to buy. Flying broomsticks held a similar status in the wizarding world as family cars did in the Muggle world. Thanks to Floo Powder and Apparition, most wizards were content with just having a broom that could fly—speed hardly mattered.
Unless you were into Quidditch or filthy rich, few would bother upgrading their broomsticks for such marginal gains.
Wayne glanced at the price tag:
500 Galleons.
To him, it wasn't exorbitant, but wages in the magical world were generally low. Earning a few dozen Galleons a month was the norm—even Mr. Weasley only made about seventy or eighty Galleons monthly.
The Nimbus 2000 was undeniably pricey.
Though Wayne could easily afford it, he gave it a brief look before leaving. No rush—he could always buy one later if Flying Class at school turned out to be worthwhile.
Exiting Quality Quidditch Supplies, Wayne headed to Twilfitt and Tattings nearby. Last time, he'd only bought the three plain robes required by the school. Wearing all-black robes made him look like a walking bat, and to avoid matching Snape's wardrobe, Wayne decided to pick up a few more stylish options.
"Welcome! How may I assist you?"
The owner of Twilfitt and Tattings was a well-preserved woman in her forties, still elegant and charming. She greeted Wayne with a warm smile.
"Good day, madam. I'd like a few robes suitable for school wear," Wayne said politely.
"It's rare to see young wizards shopping here. Come along."
Amused, the shopkeeper beckoned him into a private room.
...
Half an hour later...
"That'll be 85 Galleons and 12 Sickles, dear. Just 80 Galleons will do," the shopkeeper said with a satisfied smile.
Three robes in total, costing more than a month of Mr. Weasley's salary. No wonder this was considered a luxury store in the wizarding world.
But the expense wasn't unjustified. Each robe came pre-enchanted with Dust-Repelling, Impervius, and Flame-Freezing Charms, saving him plenty of hassle.
After giving the shopkeeper his home address, Wayne clutched his wallet (and his metaphorical kidneys) and walked out.
Money really doesn't last long. After accounting for previous expenses, more than half of the two hundred Galleons had vanished in the blink of an eye.
Wayne had to withdraw another five hundred Galleons from Gringotts before he could start his shopping spree. At Amanuensis Quills, he bought three quills made from fwooper feathers—nothing special, just pink and cute-looking.
At Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, he purchased a good amount of pre-processed potion ingredients. Hogwarts provided excellent benefits, supplying all materials for the Potions class. But for private brewing and practice, Wayne had to buy his own. He couldn't just waltz into Snape's office whenever he needed something, like Potter did.
Only Harry Potter could get away with that. Anyone else, and Snape would make their life miserable.