Now that Wayne had called them out, the twins saw no point in hiding it any longer and produced a parchment map.
Fred cleared his throat and tapped the parchment with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Ink spread across the previously blank parchment like threads, swiftly forming into a detailed map.
Unlike the maps Wayne had made, this one covered an enormous area—the entire castle, the grounds outside, the Quidditch Pitch, and even a small section of the Forbidden Forest. Wayne's maps, in contrast, only included the castle's teaching areas, far smaller in scope.
Most impressively, the map was dotted with countless names, some clustered together, others moving about.
Cedric gaped. "Where did this come from? Wayne, did you make an advanced version?"
"I don't have that kind of skill yet," Wayne replied, taking the map. Within moments, he detected traces of binding magic, numerous tracking spells, and name-related enchantments.
'Did Sirius and the others really create the Marauder's Map during their school days?' Wayne was deeply sceptical. 'How could a bunch of students have made something this incredible?'
Wayne pulled out his wand and cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself. Instantly, his name vanished from the map, leaving only the Weasley twins and Cedric's names visible in the room.
"It can do that, too?" Fred stared in astonishment.
George explained to Cedric, "Filch gave Fred and me detention—made us clean out a room. We nicked this from his drawer. Took us ages to crack the code."
Fred chimed in, "George almost threw the parchment away. Good thing he didn't."
The two exchanged a knowing smile.
Wayne studied the map for a while longer but couldn't find Peter Pettigrew's name on it before handing it back to the twins.
It made sense.
Not only was Peter Pettigrew one of the map's creators, but given his cowardly nature, he had probably cast every possible concealment spell to hide his presence.
Not finding him was only to be expected.
Fred carefully tucked the map away. With only a few months left to use it, they needed to document all of Hogwarts' secret passages as quickly as possible.
Since he had already agreed, Wayne decided to teach them everything at once.
After sending Cedric off to work on the map by himself, Wayne discussed the quill-selling business with the twins.
These two were social butterflies, with friends in every house except Slytherin.
Wayne didn't want to invest too much energy into managing the business, and neither Hermione nor Cho had much interest in it either.
The twins had arrived at just the right time.
In the original timeline, the success of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes proved that the twins had a knack for business.
For every quill they sold, Wayne would give them a 10% cut. If they made the quills themselves, they'd get 20%.
Fred and George had no objections to this arrangement.
When it came to things they were passionate about, even their mischievous nature could be tempered by patience.
The twins were brimming with enthusiasm for creating prank items or interesting magical objects, listening more attentively than they ever did in class.
If Professor McGonagall saw them like this, she'd probably be furious enough to give them detention.
After explaining the spells, Wayne handed them some ordinary feathers and a few potions to supply magical power.
Only feathers soaked in the potion would transform into the special material needed to craft magical quills.
By noon, the three still weren't ready to leave, but Wayne had to go.
"Where are you off to?" Cedric asked.
"I promised Hermione I'd teach her the Shield Charm this afternoon."
"Ooooh~" George teased in a sing-song voice. "So it's Miss Know-It-All, is it?"
Cedric smirked. "Tsk… Wayne, you're starting early, aren't you?"
Wayne wasn't bothered, merely giving them an amused look. "There are only so many students in Hogwarts. Chances are, your future wives will come from here, too.
"If you don't mind, you could always wait until the seventh year.
"By then, your future wives might have been several people's ex-girlfriends. More experienced, then."
With that, Wayne walked out, leaving the three of them staring at each other in stunned silence.
"Hiss…" Cedric sucked in a sharp breath. "That… actually makes sense."
Situations like that did exist—and they weren't rare.
For instance, the current girlfriend of Wotley, the Quidditch team captain, was the ex-girlfriend of the sixth-year Prefect, who in turn had previously dated a Ravenclaw Prefect.
Every school year felt like a transfer window—today this girlfriend changed hands, tomorrow that one did.
Cedric shuddered.
'No, I have to follow Wayne's example and start nurturing a relationship early.'
Fred and George shared his unease, but their minds were currently fixated on crafting magical items. After a bit more banter, they returned to practising the spells.
...
In the afternoon, Wayne, who had just woken from a nap, waited for Hermione at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room and promptly led her down the tower.
"Come on, I'll take you somewhere fun," Wayne said mysteriously.
Hermione was puzzled. "Weren't you supposed to teach me the Shield Charm? Where are we going?"
"Just follow me, you'll see."
Wayne led Hermione straight to the eighth floor, their hands clasped the entire way.
Hermione bit her lip lightly.
'How many times has this been now? Why does Wayne always insist on holding my hand when we walk? Is he afraid I'll get lost?'
By now, she was almost used to it.
After wandering around the eighth floor for a while, the two found the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls.
Barnabas was a wizard who had attempted to teach trolls ballet, only to be soundly beaten by them.
The painting had existed since the school's founding, and for over a thousand years, the trolls' relentless assault on Barnabas had never ceased.
Whoever painted it must have held a deep grudge against Barnabas.
Once certain of the location, Wayne paced back and forth three times in front of the opposite wall, silently repeating in his mind:
'I need a place to practice spells.'
On his third pass, a perfectly smooth door with a handle appeared on the wall.
Without hesitation, Wayne pulled Hermione inside.
"What is this place?"
The room had no visible light source, yet it was as bright as the outside world. The space was vast, filled with wooden dummies and targets. Hermione looked around in astonishment.
"The Room of Requirement," Wayne answered, also scanning their surroundings.
But unlike Hermione, he was searching for something deeper. Unfortunately, his abilities were insufficient, and his knowledge was too limited. After a long inspection, he still couldn't discern anything meaningful.
The only thing he could confirm was that, like the Sorting Hat, the Room of Requirement possessed some degree of Legilimency ability.
"Just silently think of what you need, then pace back and forth three times like I did, and the room will arrange itself accordingly.
"However, if someone's already inside, the Room won't appear unless your needs align."
"That's incredible! I want to try," Hermione said, her eyes lighting up as she tugged Wayne back out of the room to test it herself.
The moment they stepped out, the smooth door vanished.
Hermione imitated Wayne, pacing three times—and sure enough, the door reappeared. Pushing it open, they found rows upon rows of bookshelves, many of which were laden with books.
Just as Hermione reached for one, Wayne quickly stopped her. "There'll be plenty of time for reading later. Today, we agreed—spells first."
"Fine," Hermione reluctantly put the book back, and the two restored the Room to its previous state.
"Wayne," Hermione looked at the boy curiously, "how did you even discover the Room of Requirement?"
"Night-time exploring, of course," Wayne said matter-of-factly. "Didn't I tell you? This castle has too many secrets. If you just stick to classes, you'll never uncover half the fun."
Hermione pondered this, a sudden urge to try it herself stirring in her chest.
"Alright, Professor Lawrence's lesson begins now."
Wayne cleared his throat theatrically, even conjuring a pair of glasses for himself, making Hermione burst into laughter.
"Miss Granger, pay attention in class, or the teacher will spank you."
Hermione's face flushed slightly. "You wouldn't dare!"
Wayne decided not to tease her further. The young girl was easily embarrassed and had rather high boundaries – he'd have to break through those gradually.
The Shield Charm was one of the most widely used protective enchantments in the wizarding world, capable of creating an invisible barrier around the caster to deflect most offensive spells and even rebound them.
Though it was among the most common protective enchantments, that didn't mean the Shield Charm was easy to master.
Many Ministry of Magic employees hadn't grasped this spell, and proficiency with the Shield Charm was one of the most crucial components in the Auror examinations.
According to an Auror's autobiography Wayne had read, the minimum requirement to qualify as an Auror was the ability to cast the Shield Charm non-verbally.
After all, if one couldn't even protect themselves, how could they be expected to apprehend Dark Wizards?
"You should know the incantation – Protego.
"When pronouncing it, emphasise the 'te' and connect it closely with 'go'," Wayne explained in great detail to Hermione. "Remember, your wrist should flick upwards as you cast, and your wand should be perpendicular to your body."
He then demonstrated the perfect form.
"At the same time, focus your mind and visualise an indestructible shield before you.
"The Shield Charm's defensive power depends not only on magical power but also on the strength of your will.
"Magic is subjective – willpower and imagination play significant roles. Never approach it with Muggle logic. This shield must be magical, miraculous..."
Wayne spoke eloquently while Hermione nodded her small head vigorously, committing every point to memory.
"Alright, give it a try yourself."
After his explanation, Wayne let the young witch attempt the spell.
Truth be told, Hermione had considerable talent for learning charms. After just one explanation, she remembered all the key points and followed the instructions meticulously.
Within an hour, she could manage a rudimentary casting.
However, when Wayne assessed it, this Shield Charm felt dry, rough and completely lacking in smoothness.
He couldn't resist testing it.
And testing led to trouble.
Pfft!
The sound of a deflating balloon was particularly conspicuous in the quiet room, leaving Wayne stunned.
"Is this the Shield Charm or the Balloon Charm? It pops at the slightest touch!"
Hermione's face steamed as she stammered in defence, "I-I've only just learned it! It'll get better with practice!"
Wayne remained silent.
While inexperience played a part, the fundamental issue was... her magical power reserves were too limited.
The pure-blood families' insistence on blood purity wasn't entirely without reason.
Most pure-blood young witches and wizards naturally possessed greater magical power than Muggle-borns like Hermione.
Take Malfoy, for instance. Or Harry.
Had they possessed Hermione's academic aptitude, their magical reserves would certainly sustain a proper Shield Charm.
"...What are you thinking about?"
Hermione asked tentatively, worried her performance had disappointed Wayne.
"Nothing," he replied, snapping out of his thoughts. Seeing the young witch's pouting, near-tearful expression, he smiled reassuringly. "You're doing brilliantly. This isn't your fault.
"In another year or two, once your magical power has grown, you'll naturally master the Shield Charm."
Hermione remained silent, and Wayne took the opportunity to ruffle her fluffy hair, wearing an expression of pure satisfaction.
He'd wanted to do this for a while, but their relationship hadn't been close enough before, and there hadn't been a good opportunity.
Now, seizing the moment was just right.
Hermione, as expected, showed no sign of displeasure—in fact, she even leaned forward slightly, moving a little closer to Wayne.
"So what do I do now?" the little witch asked dejectedly. "With so little magical power, what spells can I even learn?"
"It's not little, just average," Wayne corrected. "Most young witches and wizards don't master the Shield Charm until fifth or sixth year."
Hermione lifted her head. "And what about you?"
"Me? I learned it before starting school." As he spoke, an invisible barrier gently pushed Hermione away.
This wasn't just nonverbal and wandless spellcasting—it also demonstrated an extraordinary level of control over the charm.
"Well? Pretty impressive, right?" Wayne raised an eyebrow, preening proudly.
Hermione gritted her teeth in frustration. Here she was, feeling miserable, and Wayne was rubbing salt in the wound.
"It's not fair! We're both Muggle-borns—why are you so much more talented?"
'Because I'm a cheater,' Wayne thought silently.
With an SS+ level talent in Defence Against the Dark Arts, there were few in history who could rival him.
Even if the system hadn't provided specific ratings for other characters, Wayne estimated that only legendary figures like Gryffindor, Slytherin, or even Merlin himself could reach SSS-tier. Not even Dumbledore could match it.
With such talent, combined with his gacha draws, Wayne's Shield Charm had already reached the Advanced level, allowing him to wield it effortlessly.
Since the Shield Charm was out of reach for now, Wayne could only teach Hermione some other spells.
Like the Saviour's favourite—the Disarming Charm.
Simple, practical, low on magical expenditure, with a fast projectile speed that made it extremely difficult to block.
For most wizards, losing their wands left them little better than Muggles.
With a wave of his hand, Wayne summoned a wooden training dummy, gripping various makeshift objects in its hands.
"First, focus on improving your spell success rate. Then, remember to control the direction the enemy's wand flies. After that, work on accuracy, and only then speed and range." Wayne laid out the plan for Hermione before settling down to read a book.
At the same time, he pondered whether there was any chance of drawing an item that could boost Hermione's magical power.
But if he did give her something, it wouldn't be now—he'd wait until she was properly 'cultivated' and certain not to slip away.
Inside the Room of Requirement, the sound of Hermione reciting spells never ceased. She was determined to prove to Wayne that she wasn't just good at rote memorisation—that she had more to offer.
By five in the afternoon, Hermione's voice had grown hoarse, and her magical power reserves were completely drained. Only then did she stop.
Wayne handed her a vial of Calming Draught.
"Drink this and go to bed early tonight, or you might not be able to get up tomorrow," he instructed. "And when you're practising on your own, don't push yourself as hard as you did today. Always leave some magical power in reserve, understand?"
Hearing his concern, Hermione felt a warm glow in her chest. She smiled brightly, carefully cradling the potion in her arms. 'This bad guy can be quite considerate sometimes.'
Wayne also laughed, reaching out to ruffle the little witch's fluffy head once more.
'So soft!'