Amidst the agonised cries, the Centaurs collapsed one after another.
Wayne hadn't gone for the kill. Though the wounds bled profusely, for a Centaur's constitution, it was merely a minor injury. After all, these were just ordinary pythons conjured by Transfiguration—they carried no lethal venom.
"Hee!"
"Hee!"
The mother Unicorn suddenly began whinnying, and Wayne roughly understood her meaning. "You want me to spare them?"
The Unicorn nodded, her clear, innocent eyes devoid of any impurity.
She whinnied a few more times. Though Wayne didn't fully grasp it, thanks to his talent, he could roughly interpret her message.
Essentially, she and the Centaur tribe were on good terms. The Centaurs would even share some of their cultivated fruits and vegetables with her.
They were all friends—no need to keep fighting. No one was going to die from this.
"Letting them go is fine…" Wayne stroked the Unicorn's slender neck. "But in the future, you'll have to let me come play with you."
The Unicorn blinked in confusion.
Even without being asked, she wouldn't refuse Wayne's visits.
Reading her expression, Wayne suddenly felt a pang of guilt—his thoughts were far too convoluted.
The world of animals was simple: show them kindness, and they'd repay it a hundredfold.
Even Aragog the Acromantula was no exception. Hagrid held a special place in his heart.
For Hagrid's sake, Aragog had forcibly suppressed his instinct to prey on humans for fifty years.
As for his earlier command to hunt Wayne down, that was just animal instinct at work—it didn't negate the good Wayne saw in him.
"Fine, I'll give you face."
As Wayne spoke, the pythons, still battling the Centaurs, transformed into ropes, binding them temporarily.
"Go talk to them. Saves me the trouble of untying them only to fight again."
At Wayne's command, the Unicorn gently lifted her sleeping foal with her head, placing it in Wayne's arms before trotting over.
After a series of whinnies, the Centaurs ceased their struggles. Only then did Wayne release the ropes.
Clutching the wound on his neck, the lead Centaur staggered to his feet and approached Wayne, his human torso dipping slightly in a bow.
"My apologies for the misunderstanding, young colt."
"My name is Razi. Please forgive our recklessness. Seeing Hestia by your side, we assumed you had captured her."
"Wayne Lawrence," Wayne stated coolly. "Hestia—is that your name?"
The latter question was directed at the Unicorn.
"Neigh!"
"Good. Then from now on, I'll call you Hestia."
With that, Wayne frowned again. "Who told you to stop, Aragog? Don't you want your venom sac anymore?"
Aragog shuddered and hastily ordered the remaining Acromantulas to continue extracting their venom.
Whatever they did, they mustn't provoke this demon.
Seeing the Acromantulas resume their 'milking', Wayne nodded in satisfaction. "Razi, was it? Are you the leader of the Centaurs?"
"No," Razi shook his head. "Centaurs are equals; there is no such thing as a leader. I am merely the captain of this patrol squad, and during patrols, my word takes precedence."
"I couldn't care less about your hierarchy," Wayne waved dismissively. "As long as you have authority, that's enough."
"Though I've spared you today, it doesn't mean there's no price to pay."
Wayne gestured towards the 'cows'. "See what's become of the Acromantulas? Their venom is the price they pay for angering me. So... what are you prepared to offer to appease my wrath?"
Wayne regarded the Centaur Razi with leisurely composure.
True to his nature of plucking feathers from every passing goose—even a Doxy wouldn't pass without leaving behind some droppings—he wasn't about to let these intelligent Centaurs off scot-free. They surely had plenty of valuable things on hand.
"Don't agree to this, Razi!" A black-maned Centaur with a thick beard roared furiously. "Centaurs will never be slaves! You vile little wizard, don't think you can bend us to your will!"
BANG!
Before he could finish, Wayne flicked his wrist, sending a red curse streaking towards the Centaur. The spell blasted him into the distance, swallowed by the darkness.
"Bane!"
Razi had no time to intervene, forced to watch helplessly as his comrade vanished from sight.
"You've gone too far, colt!" Razi snarled in outrage. "Aren't you afraid I'll report this to Dumbledore?"
"Dumbledore?" Wayne's gleaming black eyes turned icy. "Even if this were brought before the Ministry of Magic, I'd still be in the right."
"At worst, I'd only be guilty of breaking school rules. But you lot—pointing arrows at an underage wizard—whose side do you think Dumbledore would take?"
"As for that foul-mouthed Centaur, I was simply teaching you all some manners. Prisoners ought to know their place. Your mouths are for begging, not for spouting nonsense."
"And another thing—call me by my name. I'm a human, not a Centaur. Stop calling me 'colt'."
Razi was left speechless by Wayne's retort. In the end, they had acted rashly, mistaking Wayne for a poacher without even assessing the situation properly.
"What do you want?" Razi lowered his head further, asking dejectedly. "Human gold and jewels mean nothing to Centaurs. We've never collected such things."
"Who wants that rubbish?" Wayne waved impatiently. He lacked many things, but money wasn't one of them. If he ran out of Galleons, he could always sell more gold bars.
"I've heard Centaurs are not only skilled in prophecy and archery but also quite accomplished in Herbology."
"Bring me some herbs, and we'll call it even. You decide the quantity—but if it's too little..." Wayne let out a cold laugh. "Don't blame me if I pay your tribe a visit."
Relieved that Wayne only wanted herbs, Razi relaxed. The Forbidden Forest was the Centaurs' home; gathering herbs would be effortless.
"No problem. Please wait here—I'll fetch them right away."
"How much can a horse carry? They'll go back with you." Wayne wasn't worried about the Centaurs breaking their promise.
Centaurs were single-minded—once they gave their word, they would see it through.
Sure enough, seeing how much trust Wayne placed in them, Razi's gaze toward him filled with respect.
Bowing once more, he signalled the other Centaurs to follow him. Judging by the direction, they were likely heading to find Bane, who had been blasted away earlier. Wayne couldn't help but yawn.
After all this commotion, he checked the time—it must have been close to two in the morning. Thankfully, tomorrow was the weekend, so he could sleep in.
The Acromantulas were carefully lined up to be milked. By the end, all the spiders were exhausted, but the barrel was still about one-fifth short of being full.
Wayne smirked. "Aragog, what do you say?"
"No!"
"We can fill it!"
"I still have venom—take mine too!" Aragog, who had been hanging all this time, had gone numb in his legs.
Wayne clicked his tongue, and the vines instantly released their hold. Aragog tumbled to the ground, taking a long while to struggle back up.
He practically drained his venom sac dry before finally filling the remaining fifth.
Aragog collapsed weakly. "There's nothing left… not a single drop."
"Fine, piss off," Wayne waved dismissively, shooing him away like a fly.
Far from feeling angry, Aragog was relieved Wayne had kept his word and spared their lives.
As for thoughts of revenge in the future? None even crossed his mind.
At Wayne's age, he would only grow stronger with time. If he didn't come after their colony, they'd count themselves lucky.
Aragog had already decided—once he got back, they were moving!
As far away from the Unicorns' territory as possible, lest they ever run into this menace again.
Unfortunately, Aragog didn't realise that he and his descendants had already been honoured as Wayne's designated suppliers—there would be plenty of dealings in the future.
After they left, the Centaurs returned before long.
This time, there weren't just the dozen or so from before—a few more had joined them, each carrying bundles of herbs on their backs.
The lead Centaur set down his load and approached Wayne. "Greetings. I am Firenze."
Wayne nodded, recognising the name. In the future, this one would become Hogwarts' Divination professor.
"Mars burns brightly tonight. I warned Razi and the others to be cautious, but unfortunately, they didn't heed my advice."
"For this entirely unnecessary conflict, and Bane's rudeness, I apologise."
Razi hung his head in shame.
Most Centaur divination relied on celestial signs, and Mars often symbolised war and disaster.
"No harm done. No discord, no concord, as they say."
With a keen eye, Wayne took in the quantity and variety of herbs, and any lingering displeasure vanished. He grinned as he chatted with Firenze.
After a few words, once all the Centaurs had deposited their herbs, Firenze thanked Wayne once more for his mercy, nodded respectfully to Hestia, and led the rest of his kin away.
"Hmm…"
It was time to part.
Hestia softly called out, and Wayne gently rubbed her head. "Alright, you must be tired after just giving birth. Go back and rest."
Her large eyes brimmed with reluctance as Hestia carried her little one, glancing back with every step until she finally disappeared into the darkness.
"Ho-Oh, take me back. After returning to the Forbidden Forest, stay close to Hestia for now."
"Chirp~!"
With a flicker of flames, the Forbidden Forest returned to its tranquil state.
...
The next morning, Wayne went to check on Cho again.
The young witch blushed the moment she saw him. After an examination by Madam Pomfrey, it was confirmed that Cho was perfectly fine, and she was discharged with clearance to participate in the upcoming Quidditch Match.
Cho thanked Wayne profusely once more, though this time, there was no embrace.
"Come to think of it, does this count as aiding the enemy?" Wayne suddenly teased with a smile. "Don't forget, in November, Ravenclaw's opponent is Hufflepuff."
"Hmph~"
Cho rolled her eyes prettily. "Even if you say that, I won't go easy on you."
Wayne nodded in agreement. "Please don't hold back. I'd hate for you to come crying to me after losing too badly."
"You're the one who'd cry!" Cho protested. "I'm not the type of girl who cries over every little thing."
"Oh?" Wayne drew out the syllable. "I wonder who it was yesterday with red, puffy eyes when I arrived—"
"Ah, stop it!" Cho's face flushed as she chased after Wayne to hit him. Soon, the sound of their playful banter and laughter echoed through the corridor.
Fortunately, Filch and Mrs Norris weren't on the second floor, or the two would surely have been given detention.
...
Cho's miraculous recovery caused quite a stir in Ravenclaw.
Many had heard Madam Pomfrey's diagnosis the previous day, yet Cho had been discharged after just one night.
Not only that, but she was also fit to play in next month's Quidditch Match.
When questioned, Cho simply smiled and explained that Madam Pomfrey had used an extremely rare and potent remedy, which was why she had made such a swift recovery.
This was the story Madam Pomfrey had instructed Cho to tell, aiming to protect Wayne and keep Ho-Oh's secret safe.
It must be said that when it came to safeguarding young witches and wizards, Hogwarts' professors were quite commendable.
This was also one of the reasons Wayne didn't mind revealing some of his secrets within the school.
Overall, the wizarding world seemed relatively peaceful. Excluding the unpredictable elements brought by the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Hogwarts was indeed a sanctuary.
He didn't have to worry about his wealth being coveted by Dumbledore or the four Heads of House. As for others—
What kind of riff-raff was even worth his concern? If provoked, he'd just blast them with a missile.
Let's not forget—aside from being a wizard, he was also a noble!
Still, while Cho's recovery was certainly cause for joy, one thing troubled Wayne: the atmosphere between him, Cho, and Hermione had grown somewhat odd.
The three of them used to spend time together frequently. Even when Wayne wasn't around, Cho and Hermione would often visit the library to do homework together.
Their friendship had been very close.
But since that night, scenes of Hermione and Cho being together had become rare. Even when Wayne forcibly brought them together, the two barely spoke. Alone with him, they acted perfectly normal.
Wayne had no solution for this.
Lately, he'd been swamped with work.
During the day, he attended classes, and during others' homework time, he worked on developing new products for Celia Store. Every night, he not only roamed the halls practising spells but also combed through the restricted section of the library.
From time to time, he would visit Hestia to check on her and the little Unicorn, bringing them food along the way.
His time management was already maxed out.
...
Another Tuesday night arrived.
Wayne, as usual, came to Snape's office.
The difference this time was that it wasn't Snape assigning a potion—it was Wayne who had proposed it.
"You want to brew Wit-Sharpening Potion?"
Snape frowned, though not because Wayne's skills were lacking.
With him, the Potions Master, guiding Wayne—coupled with Wayne's freakishly good memory and innate talent—Wayne's potion-making skills had improved by leaps and bounds.
Even something like Wit-Sharpening Potion was well within his capabilities.
What troubled Snape was the ingredients required for the potion.
Scarab Beetles, ginger root, and armadillo bile were common enough, but the other two—Acromantula venom and boomslang skin—were materials he was reluctant to part with. Both were extremely rare, and he didn't have much in stock.
"Professor, I already have both the boomslang skin and Acromantula venom here." Wayne produced the two ingredients.
At the sight of a full gallon of Acromantula venom, Snape's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "Lawrence, where did you get so much venom? And this boomslang skin—it's at least fifty years old!"
"Bought it in Diagon Alley, Professor." Wayne grinned brightly.
The boomslang skin had been generously provided by the Centaurs—he had over a dozen pieces. Brewing a single cauldron of Wit-Sharpening Potion only required a small segment of one.
Snape shot him a look that clearly said, You're full of it.
He had established partnerships with all the apothecaries in Diagon Alley. If rare ingredients came in, they would notify him in advance.
Snape couldn't be bothered to listen to Wayne's nonsense and cut straight to the point. "Selling?"
Thud!
Wayne slammed a gold brick onto the table and raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like I need money?"
The relationship between Wayne and Snape was peculiar—they were teacher and student, and Snape even gave him private lessons.
Yet, both were always looking for ways to outmanoeuvre the other.
If there was a chance to see Snape at a disadvantage, Wayne wouldn't pass it up.
"Hmph! Wasting materials!" Snape gritted his teeth but still pulled out the recipe for the Wit-Sharpening Potion.
Advanced potions like this couldn't be brewed in just two hours. When time was up, Wayne left the cauldron in Snape's office and headed out. Watching the steaming golden liquid, Snape felt an itch in his heart.
'How does this brat have so many good things?'
...
The next day.
Wayne struggled out of his warm bed. The weather was getting colder—snow would likely fall soon.
As usual, he woke his two roommates, washed up, and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Upon entering the Great Hall, he paused.
The entire hall was filled with the scent of pumpkins, and the chatter among the young wizards all pointed to one thing—
Halloween was approaching.