Gryffindor had won.
With a score of 160 to 40, they had triumphed over Slytherin, securing their first Quidditch Match victory of the year. Yet no one was celebrating.
Everyone's attention had been seized by something far more explosive.
Just fifteen minutes after Harry caught the Golden Snitch...
...
Headmaster's Office
The office was unusually lively today.
Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Sprout, and Wayne—the living attendees.
And the portraits of past Headmasters lining the walls.
Not a single one pretended to sleep; all chattered excitedly.
"Eighty students were carried into the Hospital Wing, with dozens more waiting outside! Derwent! You've got a good memory—tell us, is this the biggest incident in history?!"
The bearded Headmaster roared so vehemently he nearly toppled out of his portrait.
Headmaster Derwent pondered for a moment before nodding slowly. "Quite right. Since I established the hospital wing, its beds have never been full. Lad, you've done splendidly!"
"Not at all," Wayne said modestly. "I only knocked out twelve people. Friends handled the rest."
"Hmph!"
Snape let out a heavy snort.
"Dumbledore, what more is there to say? He's admitted it himself. Severe punishment! He must be severely punished! A full year's worth of detentions!"
"Snape!" Phineas said disapprovingly. "Have you lost your edge in just a few days? Where's all that ferocity you used to have? The entire Slytherin house was beaten to the ground! Utterly shameless! If he isn't expelled, are we keeping him here for Christmas?!"
Snape's face darkened. "I am the Head of Slytherin House, you outdated old relic. Shut your mouth!"
Expelling Wayne? Where else would he find Ho-Oh's tears or the other ingredients? Forget about him expelling Wayne—even if Dumbledore wanted to, he'd have to plead on Wayne's behalf!
"You—"
"Enough, Phineas," Dumbledore interjected, waving his hand to lower the curtain, silencing the portrait entirely.
The old man rubbed his temples, clearly exasperated.
He'd only taken a short nap, skipping the match, and yet so much had happened in his absence.
"Mr Lawrence, I believe you're not an impulsive person..."
His voice trailed off weakly.
Wayne blinked.
Dumbledore couldn't even finish. He'd recalled the details of Wayne's actions during the investigation.
Bloody hell, there was no way to spin this. How exhausting.
"Care to explain what happened?"
All the Heads of House were staring intently at Wayne.
After the brawl, the professors had rushed the injured to the hospital wing before dragging Wayne straight to Dumbledore.
As for how things had escalated to this point, none of them knew the full story.
"Well, because I'm a Quidditch enthusiast, and seeing Slytherin's... unsavoury playing style—"
Ahem!
Snape's loud cough cut Wayne off, his glare murderous.
Wayne remained unfazed but adjusted his wording. "...their rather rough playing style, I cursed a few times."
"Then Parkinson called me a Mudblood."
Gasps escaped McGonagall and Professor Sprout. Snape's fist clenched tightly beneath his robes, a flash of fury in his eyes.
Even Dumbledore's calm expression cooled slightly. "That is indeed an excessive term."
"Excessive?" Sprout stared at him incredulously. "It's a slur! How could Parkinson utter such a filthy word?"
"Dumbledore, can 'excessive' really dismiss the pain this has caused Lawrence?"
Wayne had never seen his Head of House angry before—today was a first.
The usually gentle, cheerful, plump witch had transformed into a bristling, protective lioness, glaring at Dumbledore.
Only when she looked at Wayne did her expression soften with a hint of heartache.
Wayne was her favourite student, possessing both the kindness of a Hufflepuff and the sharpness most Hufflepuffs lacked.
Combined with his talent, Sprout was certain Hufflepuff would one day take great pride in Wayne. However, her favourite student had just been insulted!
"Pomona, I understand how you feel. My wording was inappropriate."
When an honest person loses their temper, even Dumbledore must step back and humbly admit his mistake: "Regardless, Slytherin will lose fifty points for this."
"One hundred points! Plus a month's detention, with tasks assigned by me!" Sprout declared mercilessly, and Wayne could have kissed his Head of House right then.
He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Snape.
'Go on, say something, you git.'
"I agree. A month is too short—let's extend it until Christmas," Snape said, his expression dark as he tightened his robes.
"Herbologists always need fertiliser. He's young and strong, Sprout—feel free to put him to good use."
He offered no objections, immediately accepting Sprout's decision. Under any other circumstances, Snape would have argued relentlessly. But the word "Mudblood" was something he never wanted to hear again!
"However..." After sacrificing his student first, Snape then turned his spear toward Wayne: "This was ultimately a conflict between the two of you. How did it escalate into... a brawl?"
"I don't know either, Professor," Wayne said, looking utterly innocent as he spread his hands. "Cedric stood up for me, and Parkinson shoved my friend aside rudely."
"Naturally, I couldn't back down, so I hit him."
"Then your housemates charged in, and my friends couldn't just watch me get ganged up on, so they joined in."
"Left with no choice, I had to fight back too."
After finishing, Wayne mused, "So, when you think about it... It wasn't really my fault, was it?"
"But you went too far."
Professor McGonagall swiftly found the flaw in his argument. "Ten people with broken noses, eight with mild concussions, and poor Professor Quirrell was accidentally injured by you."
"Apologies, Professor." Wayne stood and bowed slightly, sincerely expressing his regret before straightening up and meeting McGonagall's gaze.
"But I don't think I was excessive. At the very least, I didn't even use magic."
"If I had drawn my wand... they'd have been far worse off."
McGonagall fell silent.
Sprout watched her treasure with admiration. Polite, tactful, and measured. What a good boy.
"Alright, the responsibility for today is quite clear." To spare Wayne further punishment, Sprout took the initiative. "The fault lies with Parkinson, but Lawrence did accidentally harm Professor Quirrell.
"Let's just dock them a hundred or so points and leave it at that."
The Hufflepuff tradition carried on—students didn't care about points, and neither did their Head of House.
Casually tossing out a hundred points like it was nothing.
"But the detention..." McGonagall still wanted to argue. She felt the punishment was too light. She didn't dislike Wayne—on the contrary, she admired him greatly. But precisely because of that, the punishment should have been harsher.
This was a strict teacher's unique way of protecting a beloved student.
"Let's forget about the detention," Sprout said cheerfully. "He shouldn't waste so much time on manual labour."
"No!" Snape suddenly interjected. "There's still one person who hasn't been punished—Cedric. It was his insistence on standing up for Lawrence that led to the subsequent events. Cedric won't be able to participate in the next Quidditch match, nor even appear on the pitch!"
After some deliberation, Professor Sprout reluctantly agreed.
This time, Slytherin had suffered a heavy loss. Best to let them have this one.
Once the discussion concluded, they finally turned their attention to Dumbledore, who had remained silent until now.
Dumbledore gave a faint, wry smile. "You've all finished deliberating—why look at me now? Let it be as you've decided.
"Severus, go and assist Poppy. She's likely running low on potions..."
After that, there was nothing more for Wayne to do.
He was ushered out of the Headmaster's Office, where a crowd of Hufflepuff badgers had gathered outside the door.
Although Hufflepuff certainly had the advantage in numbers, fights inevitably resulted in injuries. Many bore minor wounds, but none seemed to care—their only concern was what punishment Wayne would face.
As soon as Wayne emerged, they swarmed around him—Cedric, Toby, Norman, Hannah, Bones...
Wayne quickly relayed the outcome, reassuring everyone that there was no need to worry.
Upon hearing it was merely house points deducted, they were overjoyed. Had they not feared being overheard by the professors inside, they might have erupted into cheers.
Wayne patted Cedric on the shoulder. "Sorry about this—costing you a Quidditch match."
Cedric shook his head dismissively. "What's the big deal? Professor Sprout probably agreed to it just to spare Snape the embarrassment."
"Does the house have a reserve Seeker?"
Cedric sighed slightly. "No. It's fine—we'll concede this one. At least it's Ravenclaw we're up against. We won't lose by too much."
"You shouldn't say things like that so carelessly," Wayne teased. "If Cho hears, she'll come after you."
"How would she know if you don't tell her?" Cedric retorted, giving him a light punch on the shoulder.
Wayne chuckled but said nothing more.
The group marched triumphantly back to the Common Room.
Without hesitation, they launched straight into celebration!
Wayne summoned Ho-Oh, its pure white Sacred Flames cascading down, healing all the badgers' minor injuries in an instant.
Seeing their fascination with Ho-Oh, he didn't dismiss it immediately. Touching was out of the question—even if Wayne allowed it, Ho-Oh's pride would never permit it.
And Wayne wouldn't dream of suggesting it.
But letting everyone observe Ho-Oh up close and bask in its majesty? For most of the badgers, who adored magical creatures, this was already an incredible treat.
Upon learning Ho-Oh had a fondness for herbs, a flurry of students dashed to their dormitories, returning with all manner of prized specimens—some common, some rare.
The badgers feasted, Ho-Oh feasted, and everyone was delighted.
Never before had Hufflepuff held its head so high.
You Slytherins, with your pure-blood aristocratic airs, looking down on Hufflepuff?
After today's brawl, let's see who dares call Hufflepuff weak.
Wayne couldn't help but reflect.
In the wizarding world, until one's power reaches a certain level, numbers truly are a formidable advantage.
The Weasley Family could well be described as impoverished, yet they still ranked among the Twenty-Eight Sacred Pure-Blood Families.
Who would dare look down on them?
For no other reason than their sheer fertility.
By the time Ginny came of age and the other siblings married, this family would boast a full twenty wizards.
Who could withstand that?
Expect Malfoy, with his nine generations of single heirs, to stand against them? He wouldn't dare, even with three extra doses of courage!
Choosing Hufflepuff had truly been the best decision!
Wayne raised his goblet of pumpkin juice high and bellowed: "Make Hufflepuff Great Again!"
The little badgers caught fire with enthusiasm, lifting their cups in unison: "Make Hufflepuff Great Again!"
...
Late at night, Wayne lay in bed.
Amidst Hufflepuff's celebrations, he hadn't forgotten to reassure Hermione and Cho that he was unharmed.
Visiting the Gryffindor common room had nearly ended with him unable to leave.
The little lions had gone wild—anyone who thrashed Slytherins was an instant friend.
Harry, knowing Wayne had caused such chaos to help him, was deeply moved.
He even invited Wayne to Hagrid's Hut the next day.
But that wasn't the whole truth.
While helping Hermione was part of it, Wayne had long wanted to teach those Slytherins a lesson.
Those envious pure-bloods—did they think he didn't know how much they badmouthed him behind his back?
When they couldn't match his talent, they resorted to bloodline slander, gossiping like petty housewives.
Did they really think Wayne had no temper?
Those he'd knocked out today, those with broken noses—
Every single one had either insulted him or, because of him, badmouthed Cho and Hermione.
Were there any who'd slipped through? Wayne didn't know. But if he found out, they wouldn't escape.
[Major Event Settlement in Progress...]
The system's prompt chimed in a timely fashion. Wayne wasn't surprised.
This time, he'd essentially orchestrated the largest mass brawl in Hogwarts' history. Not getting a critical reward would've been strange.
[Major Event—Shattering Pure-Blood Arrogance—completed.]
[Rewards: +3500 points, Major Event Gift Pack x1.]
With the 3,500 points added to his savings, his total now exceeded 5,000.
Shortly after the Quirrell incident, Wayne had spent his points on draws.
Fifty draws in total—no gold rewards, but several purple ones. This time, with over 5,000 points, he'd hit another gold guarantee.
"System, open the Major Event Gift Pack."
[Congratulations, Host. Obtained: Meditation Technique (Gold).]
Wayne bolted upright.
Meditation Technique?
As streams of information flooded his mind, he grasped the nature of the reward.
Through meditation, one can refine the quality of mental power, increasing its capacity. Extremely practical.
Mental power didn't equate to magical power—that depended purely on innate talent.
Those with strong mental power might not possess vast magical reserves. Those with weak mental power might have inexhaustible magic.
But that didn't render mental power useless.
Wands, incantations, and wand movements—these three elements existed to help wizards focus, smoothly channelling their internal magic to cast spells. So, once accustomed and with sufficiently strong and focused mental power, one can perform wandless magic.
As long as Wayne maintains his training, the speed at which he learns spells and improves proficiency will increase significantly.
Next comes mental defence.
Mind-reading spells like the Legilimency Spell are closely related to mental power – the stronger one's mental power, the more powerful their Occlumency becomes.
During his conversations with Dumbledore, Wayne had never used Occlumency. Not because he didn't want to, but because his Occlumency wasn't advanced enough, and any attempt would be easily detected.
This would only erode Dumbledore's trust in him.
Thus, Wayne had been walking a tightrope, gambling on Dumbledore's integrity not being so despicable.
This old man wouldn't lightly suspect his students, nor would he casually resort to Legilimency.
But now things would improve.
Using the Meditation Technique, Wayne instantly felt refreshed. The proficiency level of Occlumency on his panel jumped directly from Intermediate to Advanced.
Advanced Occlumency shouldn't be so easily detected.
Seizing his good fortune, Wayne made a decisive choice to begin the prize draw.
A flash of shattered card light flickered.
In the first forty draws, Wayne obtained Fiendfyre, Protego Diabolica, Apparition, General Counter-Spell, and Fiendfyre.
All highly practical spells.
They also elevated his General Counter-Spell and Fiendfyre to the Advanced level, increasing his total magical power.
The final ten draws brought the promised golden flash. With anticipation, Wayne tapped to shatter the card...