"Master, teach me!"
In the Common Room, Cedric was kneeling on the sofa, practically prostrating himself. He was utterly convinced, completely bowled over.
"Calm down, you wouldn't be able to use it even if you learned it," Wayne said leisurely, sipping his hot cocoa.
"Why not?" Cedric protested indignantly. "I'm quite popular too, you know."
"Oh?" Wayne smirked. "Are you referring to Pansy from Slytherin or Rosanara from Ravenclaw?"
"Stop." Cedric's face turned green, nearly vomiting up his dinner.
One of those girls weighed twice as much as he, and the other had arms thicker than his legs. The moment he received their invitations, he wanted to die.
"Accept your fate," Wayne patted his shoulder solemnly. "Come back to me in ten years, and I guarantee you'll find someone suitable."
Cedric gave him a deadpan stare. "In ten years, your kids will be old enough to buy doughnuts."
Just as Wayne was about to retort, a classmate walked in and called out, "Wayne, someone's looking for you."
Wayne looked up. "Who?"
"Penelope Clearwater from Ravenclaw."
Cedric gazed at him in awe.
'There's more?'
Wayne hadn't expected Penelope to seek him out. Wasn't this a bit… like an old cow eating tender grass?
Still, he grabbed his wingman and stepped out through the wooden door of the Common Room.
There stood the golden-haired, wavy-locked senior, smiling warmly.
"Hello, Senior," Wayne greeted politely.
"Wayne, would you like to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" Penelope stepped forward, extending the invitation with effortless grace. "I know a secret passage that leads straight to Honeydukes."
"Sorry, Senior," Wayne replied. "Cedric's so dim he still can't even make a proper map. I have to tutor him tomorrow."
"Oh?" The golden-haired beauty arched an eyebrow, her lips curling slightly. "Then why did I hear... Cedric's going to the Hog's Head with Fred and the others tomorrow?"
Wayne's smile froze as he turned to glare at Cedric, who was stifling laughter.
"Don't look at me. I know nothing."
After shooting him a withering look, Wayne turned back, his harmless smile back in place.
"Must've misremembered."
"Alright, Cedric, you can go now," Penelope waved dismissively.
Before Wayne could say another word, Cedric expertly tapped the password and bolted. This was a battle between experts—better not stick around as a novice and risk collateral damage.
Once Cedric was gone, Penelope asked, "Is it Cho or that little girl from Gryffindor?"
Wayne answered honestly, "Both."
Penelope's breath hitched. Staring at the boy's handsome face, she had the sudden urge to scratch it.
"How do you manage that?"
"Just like earlier," Wayne said. "Morning with Hermione, afternoon with Cho."
"And the evening?" Penelope pounced on the inconsistency.
Wayne looked horrified. "Senior, I'm not even twelve yet."
His birthday was June 1st—still months away.
"Ugh."
Penelope's cheeks flushed slightly as she scoffed. "Just tell me if you're free in the evening."
Wayne scratched his head. "How about I come to Ravenclaw Tower at eleven?"
"That's more like it." Penelope tapped his shoulder with a slender finger. "I'll see you tomorrow."
With that, she left, satisfied. When she turned around, Wayne didn't notice that the seemingly indifferent older sister had flushed even to the tips of her ears.
...
Saturday, Valentine's Day.
As if in harmony with the occasion, the sky was exceptionally clear.
Early in the morning, the senior students eligible to visit Hogsmeade left the school, most of them in pairs of a boy and a girl.
Quidditch training across all houses was also suspended.
Even Quidditch fanatics like Oliver Wood or Wotley wouldn't dare defy the spirit of the day by holding practice on Valentine's Day.
Those with partners were one thing, but those without suffered even more. Others are going on dates, and here I am stuck at training?
The sheer resentment alone could form a curse, dooming these two to a lifetime of singledom.
Wayne also rose early, skipping breakfast to head straight to Gryffindor Tower and whisk Hermione away from the castle.
The little witch had even dressed up for the occasion—her usually bushy hair now smooth and cascading, her sapphire-blue eyes shimmering with shyness.
She let Wayne lead her into a secluded corner before Ho-Oh appeared, enveloping them both in flames.
When they reappeared, they were deep in the Forbidden Forest, at the dwelling place of the Unicorns. Hestia and Diana rushed out, and Wayne opened his trunk, bringing them all into his pocket world.
"N-Not that I mind, but weren't we supposed to read?" Hermione's hands were sweating nervously. Normally, she wouldn't think much of it, but today, Wayne had abruptly pulled her into a bedroom.
She was a little flustered.
"I've got enough books here to last us." Wayne led her outside, where a brand-new building now stood beside the original wooden cabin.
This was a specially constructed library. Over the past month, Wayne had already transcribed a tenth of the books from the Restricted Section, not to mention his frenzied shopping spree in Diagon Alley.
Dozens of bookshelves were packed to the brim.
"A gift for you." Wayne pulled out a vial of deep blue potion.
"What's this?"
The potion shimmered brilliantly under the sunlight, utterly mesmerising.
"Potential Elixir. It helps witches and wizards unlock their potential in advance, boosting their magical power. Professor Snape gave it to me."
Upon hearing his explanation, Hermione immediately grasped the potion's value and waved her hands in refusal.
"No, I can't accept this. It's far too precious."
"Just take it." Wayne pressed the small blue vial firmly into Hermione's hand. "Snape gave me three bottles. Drinking more than one has no additional effect."
"But you could still sell the others!" the little witch protested.
"Do I look like I need money?" Wayne spread his hands innocently.
He had even lost count of the assets he'd acquired with his uncle.
Oil, minerals, industrial machinery—even arms.
Money was just a number to him—a long, rapidly growing one at that.
Hermione bit her glossy red lips and met Wayne's unwavering gaze before finally relenting.
"Fine, I'll take it. Thank you."
With that, the young witch wrapped her arms around Wayne's neck, rising slightly on her tiptoes. Wayne felt a fleeting dampness on his cheek.
That was the furthest the little witch could bring herself to go.
Wayne was more than satisfied.
"Drink it quickly, then let's see the effects," Wayne suggested, drawing a circle with his wand and conjuring a Shield Charm around himself.
"Stupefy!"
A streak of red light shot from Hermione's wand, colliding with the invisible barrier. Having often practised spells with the girls, Wayne could easily gauge their progress.
"Power's increased by about thirty to forty per cent. With more training, you'll improve even further."
The results were decent, though the potion had little effect on Wayne himself—his potential had already far surpassed that of his peers.
The young witch grew even more excited. She attempted another spell, and for the first time, succeeded in casting the Shield Charm.
While grateful to Wayne, Hermione also found herself admiring Snape.
To develop such a powerful potion, she'd have to learn from him properly in the future.
By then, Gardevoir had prepared breakfast. After eating, the two each took a book and headed to the lakeside.
Hermione naturally stretched out her legs, and Wayne comfortably settled his head in her lap.
Hestia and Diana trotted over to join them, exhaling contented snorts. The pair enjoyed the peaceful moment until noon, when Wayne reluctantly escorted the little witch back to her tower.
There was no time to linger over the sweetness of the morning—next, he hurried off to Ravenclaw Tower.
"Sorry, Cho. Cedric's a bit slow, so it took longer. Fancy lunch together?"
...
Meanwhile, at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade...
Cedric sneezed twice out of nowhere, startling Fred, George, and Lee Jordan beside him.
George grinned expectantly. "Cedric, you coming down with something?"
"Yeah, if you're ill, you shouldn't train for Quidditch—it'll only slow your recovery," Lee chimed in.
"Nice try," Cedric snorted, rubbing his nose and glaring at them. "I'd have to be dead to miss the Quidditch match."
"How boring," Fred muttered.
The first weekend of March would reignite the flames of the Quidditch season. If Cedric were injured or ill, Gryffindor's chances would skyrocket.
"Let's just slip him something," the twins schemed openly.
"Won't work. We can't get into the Hufflepuff common room."
"Ron's got Scabbers—he could dose him."
Cedric scoffed. "Why not just have Scabbers hit me with the Killing Curse while you're at it?"
The twins exchanged glances and said in unison, "Brilliant idea!"
...
After flying on broomsticks with Cho at the Quidditch pitch for a while, Wayne led the young girl to the Room of Requirement.
Unlike Hermione, though Cho was a year older, she had a more girlish heart.
Using Transfiguration, Wayne conjured a small amusement park, and the two had a delightful time. When parting, he gifted Cho another bottle of Potential Elixir, earning himself a hug in return.
Calculating it, Wayne felt slightly short-changed.
Last time in the hospital wing, he'd managed to steal a kiss, yet now he'd only gotten a hug.
Ah, well, he'd just have to wait a few more years.
Watching Cho enter the Ravenclaw common room, Wayne sighed in relief.
With several hours left until eleven, he needed to hurry back and rest.
Dating girls was exhausting—he'd rather practise spells all day.
But for the sake of strengthening the Lawrence family, no matter how arduous, he had to persevere.
Tears welled up~
...
Albania.
This small Balkan nation held a minimal presence in the Muggle world.
Nearly eighty per cent of its territory consisted of mountains and hills, half of which were dense wild forests.
Highly unfavourable for economic development.
Yet for wizards—particularly Dark Wizards—this was undoubtedly paradise.
With so few native witches and wizards, the country's Ministry of Magic maintained only ten Aurors, barely acceptable ones at that.
Moreover, its abundant natural resources meant the vast forests and hills teemed with rare magical creatures and beings.
Even ancient wizards' treasure troves lay buried here.
Sitting on such riches yet unable to protect them, Albania gradually became a haven for Dark Wizards, where countless crimes unfolded daily.
Late at night, somewhere along the western coast.
Space distorted as a sprightly old man emerged clutching a suitcase.
It was Newt Scamander, having travelled from New York. In his long life, Newt had befriended more Portkey smugglers than fellow Magizoologists or the Aurors who frequently pursued him.
At his peak, nearly a hundred countries had banned his entry, yet he'd still roamed the world freely.
All thanks to those Portkey peddlers providing illegal transport. This Albanian trip was no exception.
He could have chosen safer Muggle travel methods.
Unfortunately, Newt discovered he suffered from airsickness, forcing him to sneak in as usual.
Wayne's given parameters were too broad—finding one snake in a country where half the land was forest, especially during winter when it should be hibernating, proved exceptionally difficult.
But a promise was a promise. After several Apparitions, Newt reached a wizarding encampment. Most here wore hoods, and any visible faces might well be Polyjuice disguises.
Blending in, Newt discreetly entered a tent bar. The spacious interior held over a dozen occupied tables.
Approaching the counter, he murmured, "Karn."
A Goblin peered up from below the counter. "Scamander?"
"Indeed," Newt replied, his words magically directed solely to the Goblin's ears.
"So it really is you." The Goblin's expression changed. "What trouble have you brought this time?"
"None at all," Newt said helplessly. "I'm just here to look for something."
As he spoke, he placed several exquisite gemstones on the table, which the Goblin greedily pocketed.
"Very well."
...
Half an hour later, Newt emerged from the tent with a grave expression. Wayne's intelligence had not been mistaken.
A strange, highly venomous giant serpent had indeed appeared here, even killing a Dark Wizard.
Rumour had it the serpent had become entangled with some sort of... spectre, neither human nor ghost. Those who had glimpsed it fled immediately upon sensing danger.
That spectre was most likely Voldemort. As for the serpent, Newt was sixty per cent certain it was Nagini.
Disapparating to the location the Goblin Karn had indicated, Newt opened his case and released dozens of Nifflers, several packs of Snifflers, and two Zouwu.
He produced a letter and a gemstone.
The letter had been written to him by Nagini long ago—the only token he possessed connected to her.
After letting the creatures catch the scent, Newt shook the gemstone. "Whoever finds a lead gets this as a reward."
The Nifflers scattered excitedly, though the Zouwu and Snifflers showed little interest.
Only when Newt brought out two cat teasers and a ball rolled by a Scarab Beetle did they diligently begin their work.
In terms of magical prowess, Newt was merely above average—a modest talent at best.
But when it came to utilising magical creatures, no one in the world could surpass him.
He had once stolen Grindelwald's most treasured love token with a Niffler and escaped imprisonment countless times with the help of Bowtruckles.
This time, he hoped to rely on their aid once more to locate his old friend.
...
Two days passed in a flash. The creatures had scoured three areas without success.
On the third day, a Niffler came scurrying back, chattering incessantly. Newt sprang to his feet.
"Found something? Lead the way."
Following the Niffler, he soon arrived at a grove of withered trees.
As the Niffler circled a patch of ground, Newt scattered a handful of golden powder, spinning it in the air.
"Appare Vestigium!"
The powder swirled before coalescing into a hazy vision.
Within it, a dark green serpent slithered past!