[Silent Fear: The signature skill of Fiddlesticks the Fearmonger. Releases a psychic shockwave that forces enemies to witness their deepest fears.]
Wasn't this just Fiddlesticks' Q ability?
Spells that directly targeted the mind—or even the soul—were relatively rare in the wizarding world.
Most of them fell under Dark Magic. For instance, all three Unforgivable Curses were somewhat linked to the soul.
By classification, Silent Fear ought to be categorised as Dark Magic as well.
Most crucially, this spell was formless, traceless, and could be cast instantaneously, bypassing Shield Charms entirely.
That alone was enough to delight Wayne.
Of course, it wasn't without its flaws. The potency of the Silent Fear spell wasn't determined by the caster but by the mental fortitude of the target.
If the enemy truly feared nothing, the spell would be rendered ineffective.
At best, it could serve as a nuisance, unsettling the opponent's focus.
But against cowards or those with weaker constitutions? It would be nothing short of divine intervention.
A single incantation could strip them of all resistance, leaving them utterly defenceless.
"Time for bed."
Pleased with his bountiful haul, Wayne tucked himself in snugly and soon drifted off to sleep.
At eleven or twelve years old, he was still at an age when his body was growing rapidly. Though the system had optimised his physique, sleep remained a precious commodity.
...
The next morning, Wayne didn't stir until half past eight.
His two roommates were even worse—had he not roused them himself, they might have slept straight through till noon.
After handing the promised quills to the twins in the Great Hall and urging them to speed up their studies so they could craft them independently, Wayne hastily wolfed down his breakfast and headed for Greenhouse Two.
Cutting through the courtyard gardens to the greenhouses on the castle's east side, Wayne found a crowd of young wizards clustered outside the entrance, none daring to step inside. From within came a cacophony of clattering metal.
"What's going on?" he asked Susan Bones, who stood ahead of him.
"Oh, Wayne, you're here! Peeves is wreaking havoc inside—he's thrown all the trowels and buckets everywhere," Susan fretted. "Everyone's too scared to go in until the Head of House sorts it out."
Shoving his way through the crowd, Wayne reached the doorway.
Sure enough, there was Peeves, brandishing a shovel in each hand and using the buckets as makeshift Bludgers, batting them around with ear-splitting clangs that had many students clamping their hands over their ears.
Unlike ordinary ghosts, Peeves was an utterly peculiar entity. He couldn't even be considered a true ghost.
All ghosts were formed from wizards who, clinging to the mortal world after death, coalesced under peculiar circumstances. At the very least, they had once been human.
Peeves, however, had existed since the school's founding, emerging alongside Hogwarts Castle itself, with no living prototype to speak of. Another point was his ability to interact with physical objects, something other ghosts couldn't do. Rather than being a ghost, he seemed more like a special spiritual entity formed by the mischievous thoughts of young wizards gathered within the castle walls.
Peeves, who had been enjoying himself immensely, suddenly shivered as an inexplicable chill ran through him.
It felt as though the Bloody Baron was watching him.
Terrified, Peeves immediately began searching frantically for any sign of the Bloody Baron.
To his surprise, he didn't see the Bloody Baron at all—only a young wizard gazing at him with keen interest.
This instantly infuriated Peeves.
Usually, it was he who looked at other young wizards that way. How dare the tables be turned today?
"Hey! You there, what are you staring at?" Peeves planted his hands on his hips, his hat bobbing comically.
"I'm not 'hey,' my name is Way—" Wayne instinctively retorted before catching himself and quickly changing the subject.
"Peeves, if you keep causing trouble, I'll bring the Bloody Baron here, believe me?"
At the mention of the Bloody Baron, Peeves did falter in fear, but after glancing at Wayne's robes, he immediately puffed up again.
"You're just a little Hufflepuff! The Bloody Baron wouldn't give you the time of day. How dare you threaten Peeves! Just you wait—I'll teach you a lesson!"
With that, Peeves grabbed a bucket full of fertiliser and floated up, preparing to dump it around Wayne to scare him.
He did have some sense of restraint—if he actually poured fertiliser on a student, even Dumbledore would come after him.
Seeing what Peeves was up to, Wayne drew his wand, ready to teach the poltergeist a lesson.
Then he remembered the spell he'd drawn last night. A thought flickered through his mind. Silent Fear was cast wordlessly—so fast there wasn't even a visible flash of magic.
Peeves, who had been grinning maliciously, froze. Sweat poured down his ghostly form before he let out a piercing scream.
Whatever vision he'd seen, it had terrified even the usually fearless Peeves beyond measure.
When the effect faded, Peeves looked at Wayne with entirely new eyes. "You—you did that?"
"Yep," Wayne admitted. "Fancy another go?"
He pretended to raise his wand again.
Peeves shrieked, dropped everything, and fled straight through the ceiling in panic.
The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students burst into cheers, and Padma Patil's eyes sparkled as she stared unblinkingly at Wayne.
Handsome and powerful—this was the kind of young wizard who made her want to invite him to share a drink of Ganges water with her.
After that, they'd practically be family.
Just as everyone was celebrating, Professor Sprout arrived. After hearing what had happened, she patted Wayne's shoulder approvingly.
She even awarded Hufflepuff ten points.
However, the greenhouse was now in complete disarray thanks to Peeves. The original lesson—having the students fertilise and prune the moonflowers—had to be scrapped.
After a moment's thought, Professor Sprout led everyone to Greenhouse Three next door. At the entrance, she warned them sternly:
"The plants here are normally reserved for third-year students, so they can be quite dangerous."
"Everyone, remember—once inside, you must not touch anything without my permission."
Upon hearing such a stern warning, the young wizards all nodded obediently. Professor Sprout felt considerably relieved.
Fortunately, there were no Gryffindors in this class—otherwise, she wouldn't have dared bring those hyperactive little lions into Greenhouse Three.
The students followed Sprout dutifully into the greenhouse, only to let out gasps of shock.
"What is that?!"
"It looks terrifying!"
"Chomping Cabbages—stay away from them, children," Sprout cautioned. "Their teeth are sharp enough to pierce even a dragon's hide."
Some of the young wizards had already gone pale with fright—precisely the effect Sprout had intended.
The wizarding world was full of dangerous plants, and unchecked curiosity could be perilous.
She led the group to the innermost row of plant beds and held up a jar containing a specimen. "Does anyone know what this is?"
Wayne, ever more enthusiastic in his own Head of House's class than in others, immediately raised his hand after Sprout posed the question.
"Lawrence, why don't you tell us?" Sprout called on him obligingly.
"Sneezewort—a toxic plant that can cause encephalitis, leading to recklessness and irritability. It's a primary ingredient in Confusing Concoctions and Sneezing Powder."
"Excellent, very thorough," Sprout praised, awarding Hufflepuff two more points. "I hope everyone remembers Mr Lawrence's words—this plant is toxic. Don't mistake it for coriander and toss it into your food."
Hannah sheepishly withdrew her hand from the Sneezewort, pretending nothing had happened.
Sprout knew her students all too well—their first instinct upon seeing any plant was to put it in their mouths.
Normally, it wasn't much of a risk, which was why she'd only intervened now.
But Sneezewort was different. It was highly dangerous and could easily scramble one's brains.
The last thing Sprout wanted was a bunch of giggling, brain-addled Badgers on her hands. To ensure safety, she went into meticulous detail, even repeating the precautions twice.
Only then did she allow the students to take out their tools and begin loosening the soil, fertilising, and applying growth-accelerating potions to the Sneezewort.
Once matured, some of these plants would be handed over to Snape as materials for the Potions class.
The rest would be sold to shops in Diagon Alley to generate funds for the school.
Sprout deliberately paired Wayne with Hannah, tasking him with keeping an eye on their house's most notorious glutton.
Watching the girl's braided pigtails bounce as she drooled, Wayne's face twitched.
'Wake up, girl. You really can't eat this.'
Wayne remained hyper-vigilant throughout the lesson. Only when Professor Sprout instructed everyone to return their tools at the end of class did he finally tear his gaze away from Hannah.
After the others had left, Wayne lingered behind.
"Is there something you'd like to ask, Lawrence?"
"Professor, could you give me some seeds of the Chomping Cabbage?" Wayne looked expectantly at his Head of House. "I want to brew a batch of Steel Potion."
The seeds of Chomping Cabbage were also a medicinal ingredient.
The Steel Potion could temporarily make a wizard's body as hard as steel.
Chomping Cabbage seeds was one of the main ingredients.
"Really?" Sprout looked sceptical. "You can brew Steel Potion now? You're not planning to grow Chomping Cabbage yourself, are you?"
There was precedent for this sort of thing.
Every Hufflepuff student was a Badger with a natural talent for gardening, often keeping strange potted plants in their dormitories.
When she'd been a student, someone had kept a Man-Eating Flower in their dorm. That roommate would sleep inside the flower bud every night, leaving everyone worrying each morning whether she'd emerge alive.
"Professor, how could you think that?" Wayne shook his head vigorously like a rattle-drum.
"Last night I brewed a Hate Potion—Steel Potion is child's play in comparison. Even if I wanted to grow Chomping Cabbage, the dormitory doesn't get enough sunlight."
Sprout nodded in agreement. Chomping Cabbage needed plenty of sunlight and humidity, conditions the Hufflepuff dormitories certainly lacked.
After Wayne promised not to grow the cabbage himself, Sprout still gave him a bag of seeds.
She trusted a Hufflepuff's honesty.
...
Once outside the greenhouse, Wayne immediately divided the seeds into two portions.
One portion for brewing Steel Potion, the other... well, for planting of course.
But he was an honest Hufflepuff - having given his word to the professor, he wouldn't break his promise.
So Wayne decided to approach Hagrid.
Hagrid's Chomping Cabbage had nothing to do with Wayne Lawrence.
...
Inside the small wooden hut, Hagrid waved his hands dismissively after hearing Wayne's request.
"No, tha's too dangerous. Why'd yeh wanna grow it fer?"
"You'd be growing it," Wayne corrected. "I'm just giving you the seeds, and you'd give me the mature Chomping Cabbage later."
The half-giant stared at him blankly. "Wha's the diff'rence?"
"Of course there's a difference," Wayne explained patiently. "I wouldn't be involved in the growing process at all, so I wouldn't be breaking any school rules."
Hagrid was thoroughly confused but remained firm in his refusal.
Wayne played his trump card: "Hagrid, you wouldn't want to never see Ho-Oh again, would you?"
"Then I won' be seein' it," Hagrid hesitated momentarily before standing his ground. His favourite magical creatures were the mighty dragons—a Phoenix like Ho-Oh wasn't enough to sway him.
If Wayne could produce a dragon, Hagrid would agree to not just grow Chomping Cabbage but even plant another Whomping Willow.
After some thought, Wayne delivered his final blow: "Hagrid, you wouldn't want me to beat up Fluffy every day, would you?"
The half-giant was shocked. "'Ow d'yeh know 'bout Fluffy?"
"He's just in the fourth-floor corridor, isn't he? We've chatted twice—really hit it off." Wayne blinked. "If you don't help me, don't blame me if the dog gets kidnapped someday."
This finally frightened Hagrid.
He knew Wayne had an uncanny affinity with animals. His own hound Fang would forget his master whenever he saw Wayne, following the boy around, wagging his tail.
The thought of Wayne petting his dog, with Fluffy looking blissfully happy while ignoring him...
Hagrid let out a whimper. "No!"
In the end, he still agreed to Wayne's request and planted some at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
If planted in the vegetable patch, once they grew up, they'd likely ravage all the other vegetables—those steel-like teeth weren't just for show.
Fortunately, Hagrid also had a small plot of land within the Forbidden Forest. It wasn't very big, but it was enough to sow a dozen or so seeds.
After burying the seeds, Hagrid wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Still don' know why yeh're plantin' these things. They taste dreadful, they do."
Wayne looked at the freshly turned, fertile soil and nodded in satisfaction. The season wasn't ideal, but that didn't matter—the wizarding world didn't follow science, it followed magic. With the help of potions, this batch of cabbages would mature by February or March next year. And he'd have himself a group of enforcers.
Hearing Hagrid's confusion, Wayne replied without turning around, "I'm a Hufflepuff. What's wrong with liking to farm?"
...
Over the next few days, Wayne brewed several growth-accelerating potions and, whenever he had time in the afternoons, would go to the edge of the Forbidden Forest to pour them into the soil.
As for Wayne's unauthorised trips into the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid turned a blind eye.
The two of them were practically partners in crime now.
Wayne even asked Hagrid if he could procure some Mooncalf dung as fertiliser, to which Hagrid readily agreed.
There was indeed a Mooncalf herd in the Forbidden Forest, and gathering some dung wasn't a difficult task for him.
...
Before they knew it, Friday had come around again.
Quirrell stumbled into the classroom just as the bell rang.
Not a single student sat in the first three rows—everyone couldn't stand the overpowering smell of garlic emanating from him.
Quirrell didn't seem to mind. He quietly opened his textbook and began speaking in his stuttering voice:
"T-t-today… we'll be learning about… the c-c-classification of spells."
"Spells are divided into… charms, curses, hexes, and… and jinxes."