During Ravenclaw's Quidditch practice, Cho had been injured. No foul play—she'd fallen from her broom at full speed attempting an advanced manoeuvre.
The injuries were serious, requiring hospital wing treatment.
"I'll check on her—head back to the common room," Wayne told Cedric before hurrying off.
Watching him leave, Cedric shook his head. "Tch. That's the prettiest second-year girl..."
Ever since Wayne mentioned it last time, Cedric had also begun to feel the stirrings of spring in his heart, eager to find a girlfriend quickly to avoid having to settle for leftovers later.
Unfortunately, after much deliberation, none seemed to catch his eye.
There were a few decent senior girls in Ravenclaw, but alas, they were already taken.
As for Wayne—
Never mind, better not compare—it was too infuriating.
Sullenly, Cedric tapped his wand against the table. "Give me a glass of lemonade."
...
Upstairs, in the hospital wing.
After a series of examinations, Madam Pomfrey produced a bottle of foul-smelling potion and poured it down Cho's throat before instructing her to lie down and rest.
Then, addressing the crowd gathered around, she announced:
"It's nothing too serious—just three broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and the rest are superficial injuries."
"After drinking the potion, she just needs to wait for the bones to mend. She'll have to stay in the hospital wing for the next few days."
In the Muggle world, Cho's injuries would have been considered severe, but in the wizarding world, as long as the damage wasn't irreversible, magic-induced harm, it wasn't a major issue.
Even missing bones could regrow.
Ravenclaw's captain, Isaias Jare, had let out a sigh of relief—but Madam Pomfrey's following words sent everyone's hearts into their throats.
"But with so many broken bones, the upcoming Quidditch matches are about to start!" Isaias blurted out.
Cho was currently the team's only Seeker, as last year's Seeker had already graduated.
Without her, and with no time to recruit someone new, Ravenclaw would have no choice but to prepare for the next school year early.
Madam Pomfrey glared furiously at Isaias. "What's more important—her health or Quidditch?!"
"In her current state, she's highly susceptible to reinjury, and that could very well lead to lasting complications."
"I've told Dumbledore before—such dangerous activities should be banned!"
"Wouldn't it be better to replace them with weekly medical classes?" By the end, Madam Pomfrey was grumbling about Dumbledore again.
She staunchly opposed any activity that could injure young witches and wizards, with Flying Class and Quidditch being the worst offenders.
The young witches and wizards were scolded into meek silence. Though resentful, not one dared to argue back.
In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey reigned supreme—even the Headmaster had to humour her. They wouldn't dare make trouble.
"Alright, stop crowding in here—the patient needs rest!" Madam Pomfrey began shooing them out, eventually allowing only two students to stay behind.
Even then, they couldn't linger for long—they had to leave within half an hour. Cho's eyes were red-rimmed, clearly from recent tears.
Not because of her injuries, but because of the upcoming match.
She had trained so hard every day, preparing for so long, only to be unable to compete.
It was utterly heartbreaking.
Marietta comforted her. "Cho, it's just one match. There'll be other chances."
At Hogwarts, only two Quidditch matches would take place in November, with the remaining matches scheduled for March and June.
The team with the highest total points by the end of the year would be crowned champions. Marietta's attempts at comfort had little effect. Cho understood that every match was crucial.
If they suffered a heavy defeat in the first match, it would be incredibly difficult to catch up later. The young girl remained silent, leaving Marietta at a loss, while the other girl simply kept her company in quiet.
Just then, a figure slipped in furtively.
His sudden appearance startled everyone, even drawing a response from Cho, who had been lost in her sorrow.
"Wayne, what are you doing here?"
"I heard you were injured and came to check on you."
Wayne nodded at Marietta and the other blonde girl before pulling up a chair to sit down.
"How did you get in?" Marietta couldn't help but ask. "Didn't Madam Pomfrey stop you?"
"I used a Disillusionment Charm. Madam Pomfrey didn't see me," Wayne explained, then frowned at Cho's pallid face. "It's just training—why push yourself so hard?"
"I..." Cho felt a pang of guilt, knowing it was her fault. She'd been battling a cold lately, leaving her mentally and physically drained. Under normal circumstances, she could have easily executed the manoeuvre that had led to her injury.
"Seems we're a bit redundant here," the blonde girl teased, observing their interaction. Marietta chimed in:
"Exactly! Cho wouldn't say a word to us earlier, but the moment Wayne shows up, she starts talking."
Blushing, Cho turned away, while Wayne, thick-skinned, ignored their jibes and asked instead, "And you are, senior?"
"Penelope Clearwater. Just call me Penelope."
The blonde girl extended her hand gracefully, shaking Wayne's. "No need for introductions on your part—Wayne Lawrence, the prodigy of Hufflepuff, owner of the Phoenix. I've heard all about you."
"Professor McGonagall even lamented at the Transfiguration Club that you turned down her invitation. And that Celia Store—it's cost me quite a bit!"
'Penelope?'
Wayne was aware of this senior, a highly popular girl in Ravenclaw, who was likely to become a Prefect the following year.
With delicate features and beautiful golden hair.
And having joined Professor McGonagall's club, her magical talent was far from poor.
A beauty with both brains and looks.
After a brief exchange, Penelope left with Marietta, giving Wayne and Cho some space.
"What did Madam Pomfrey say?"
Seeing Cho wince in pain, Wayne couldn't bring himself to scold her further.
Cho replied dejectedly, "I can't play in next month's Quidditch match."
"Do you want to compete that badly?" Wayne pressed.
"What's the point of wanting to?" Cho gave a bitter smile. "It is what it is. I'll focus on recovering properly and aim to be fit by March."
"Fine. I'll help you this once."
Wayne made up his mind and said earnestly, "But you must be more careful from now on. If you get hurt again, I won't lift a finger."
Cho was puzzled until a fiery light appeared in the air—Ho-Oh had answered the summons.
"Chirp chirp!"
"Ho-Oh, use Sacred Fire," Wayne commanded.
Upon hearing its master's command, Ho-Oh's body erupted with white flames, one of which flew out and landed upon the motionless Cho.
The expected searing heat never came. The hospital gown remained unburnt as the fire merged into the girl's body.
Her fractured ribs and wrist were healing at an astonishing rate.
Within a minute, Cho could no longer feel any pain. She lifted her arm in astonishment, sitting upright with renewed vigour coursing through her entire body.
"I... I'm healed?"
"Why all this noise? Patients need silence!" Madam Pomfrey came rushing from her adjacent office upon hearing the commotion.
Seeing Cho sitting up only fuelled her anger. "Lie down at once! Your bones need two full days to mend properly."
"No, Madam," Cho flustered, waving her hands. "I... I feel perfectly fine now."
"Impossible! I..." Madam Pomfrey began, but her confidence wavered upon spotting Ho-Oh hovering mid-air and Cho freely moving her arms.
"Was this your doing, Lawrence?"
Being the only student who kept a Phoenix, Madam Pomfrey naturally recognised Wayne.
The young wizard modestly replied, "All Ho-Oh's work. I had little to do with it."
Ho-Oh raised its head proudly, radiating arrogance.
Though still young and incapable of resurrection, healing mere fractures posed no challenge.
Madam Pomfrey sceptically examined Cho, her expression shifting to one of utter disbelief after a thorough inspection.
"Completely healed... Since when were Phoenixes this potent?"
She'd witnessed Dumbledore's Fawkes healing before, but never with such dramatic results. According to her diagnosis, Cho showed no traces of injury whatsoever.
"Madam, may I be discharged?" Cho asked hopefully.
"Absolutely not," Madam Pomfrey refused sternly, eyeing Ho-Oh suspiciously. "You'll stay overnight. Only if no issues arise will I consider discharge."
"But the Quidditch match..." Cho cared more about participating in next month's Quidditch match than an overnight stay.
Without answering, Madam Pomfrey merely reminded Wayne to keep quiet and not overstay before leaving the infirmary. Her stance was clear nonetheless.
"Wayne, thank you!" Cho exclaimed gratefully, embracing Wayne the moment Madam Pomfrey disappeared.
The infirmary's atmosphere suddenly turned charged.
Tilting her head up, Cho found herself studying the boy's sharp nose, bright eyes and long lashes, her breath inexplicably quickening.
Observing the rosy hue on the girl's cheeks, Wayne felt equally stirred. Those limpid eyes, glistening with moisture, spurred him to tighten his embrace, drawing them closer still.
Though they weren't of age yet, trying out some lip balm wouldn't hurt.
Neither spoke, but both knew what was about to happen.
The girl closed her eyes, her eyelashes fluttering faintly, as Wayne leaned in slowly.
Bang!
The door to the hospital wing burst open.
"Cho, I heard you were hurt—you're not... gone, are you?" Hermione's voice trailed off as she took in the sight of the embracing pair, her expression growing increasingly complicated.
...
"Wayne, how's Cho doing?"
Cedric asked casually as Wayne returned to the common room. "Nothing serious. She'll be fine after a couple days' rest."
"Then why do you look so weird?" Cedric studied his friend, rubbing his chin suspiciously. "A bit regretful, and a bit... lecherous?"
"Definitely regretful," Wayne sighed. "If only Hermione had arrived a little later..."
Cedric looked utterly baffled.
'What did Granger have to do with this? Had she gotten hurt, too?'
...
Late at night.
Inside the Room of Requirement, Wayne had already put the hospital wing's intimate moment out of his mind. What would be, would be—it wasn't as if missing out today meant no chances in the future. He had plenty of time.
Right now, the priority was improving his strength.
According to the system's evaluation, his full combat prowess was already on par with a professor's—but that was only due to his innate talents.
His time studying magic was too short, his foundation insufficient. His age meant his total magical power was lacking. These were the problems Wayne faced.
"Professor-level" might sound impressive, but in reality, Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Grindelwald existed on an entirely different plane from other wizards.
Above them, none; below them, the masses.
The gap was simply too vast.
Wayne felt not a shred of complacency.
If time were short, he'd make up for it with effort. Talent only represented potential and ceilings—if not converted into real power, it was nothing but a mirage.
Thanks to the Manaflow Band, Wayne could enhance his magical power simply by mastering spells to the Advanced level.
So his recent training focus had been pushing those still at the Intermediate level higher.
The results weren't bad. Over the past fortnight, he'd advanced five or six spells to the Advanced level.
In the system's evaluation, his magical power rating had risen from 0.8 S to 0.9 S.
"Diffindo!"
A blue spell struck the steel plate, splitting it into over a dozen pieces. Wayne's magical power had inched up again—proof that his Severing Charm had reached the Advanced level.
Suddenly, just as Wayne was about to leave the Room of Requirement, his heart lurched.
Ho-Oh's call reached him.
Amid familiar flames, Ho-Oh flew out, chirping urgently.
"A Unicorn is about to give birth—it needs help!"
Wayne understood immediately and didn't hesitate. "Where? Take me there."
Grabbing Wayne's shoulder, Ho-Oh Apparated again. The next moment, they appeared in the Forbidden Forest.
[Host's first exploration into the depths of the Forbidden Forest: Reward +50 points.]
Ignoring the system's prompt, Wayne's gaze landed beneath a tree.
A pure-white magical creature with a spiralled horn lay there, belly swollen—clearly the labouring Unicorn Ho-Oh had mentioned.
Ho-Oh flew to the Unicorn's head, scattering sacred flames to ease her pain.
"Hee~!"
"Hee~!"
The Unicorn let out weak whinnies, as if in gratitude.
"Wait—what exactly can I do to help?" Wayne was rather dumbfounded—he'd never studied midwifery. Newt would have been far more suited for this.
However, it didn't take long for Wayne to understand why Ho-Oh had summoned him. A rustling sound emerged from the dense jungle, and faint glimmers of light flickered in the darkness—countless, densely packed.
After a series of skittering noises, a horde of spiders swarmed in from the trees and the ground, surrounding them. Each spider stood nearly a metre tall, with eight eyes, eight spindly legs, enormous venomous pincers beneath their eyes, and long, curved fangs. Their distinctive features made their identity unmistakable at a glance.
Acromantulas.
A XXXXX-class magical creature, on par with dragons.
A single Acromantula was far less formidable than a dragon.
But spiders bred at an alarming rate—a single clutch could hatch in six to eight weeks. Their terrifying numbers, combined with their lethally potent venom, made many wizards prefer encountering a dragon over an Acromantula.
With dragons, one could simply avoid their nests—but Acromantulas... they ate humans.
The Acromantulas didn't attack immediately. Instead, they formed an orderly, impenetrable ring around the area, their many eyes fixed hungrily on Wayne and the Unicorn.
Primordial hunger stirred within them.
Suddenly, the spiders parted, clearing a path as an Acromantula larger than a house crawled forward.
"Kekeke... Along with the Unicorn, we've stumbled upon a little wizard too," it rasped.
"Seems this meal just got more filling."