Although biological sisters, Lady Greengrass had withheld something when conceiving Daphne.
The sisters' looks differed considerably...
Unlike Fleur and Gabrielle, both heaven's darlings.
Had Wayne known Daphne's thoughts, he'd have said, "You're a good person, we're just not compatible."
Fortunately, after Astoria's explanation, Daphne realised her mistake, extinguishing any thoughts of volunteering herself.
Following her shame came overwhelming joy as she asked excitedly: "Can you really be cured?"
"Of course." Astoria nodded without hesitation, her trust in Wayne now absolute.
"I feel wonderful, much better physically. I even ran all the way back just now. But Wayne said he'd demand generous compensation if the treatment works."
As she spoke, Astoria spun around twice.
Daphne examined her sister closely, noticing the faint blush on cheeks that had always been pale before. Her complexion did seem markedly improved.
"This is wonderful." Daphne embraced her sister, tenderly stroking her long hair. "You've suffered so much all these years."
Each time she'd witnessed her sister's curse flare up, it had felt like a knife twisting in her heart.
She hated her own powerlessness.
Why had this curse befallen her sister instead of herself?
"Sister, let's write to Mother."
Astoria clung tightly to Daphne, whispering the suggestion.
"Yes, we must share this good news with Mother immediately." Daphne seemed to snap out of a daze, quickly leading her sister back to their dormitory.
...
Elsewhere.
Wayne arrived at the classroom where he'd previously held his tutoring sessions.
Malfoy and Harry had arrived earlier, sitting in chairs, staring each other down in stubborn silence.
"There you are." Harry immediately approached Wayne upon his arrival, discreetly slipping something into his hand.
"Let's begin. I can't wait to teach Malfoy a lesson."
"Potter, so eager to get beaten?" Malfoy sneered, stepping forward to hand over a galleon smoothly.
"Same arrangement - I go first."
Wayne remained silent, simply opening both palms.
Each held a galleon.
Malfoy glared at Harry. "Potter, you cheat!"
Harry stood his ground. "You paid too! How am I cheating?"
"I paid openly! You tried sneaking yours in!"
"No difference - one galleon each. As if I can't afford it."
Wayne watched them, half-hoping they'd start throwing money at him to settle the dispute. But after brief bickering, they decided to determine the order through rock-paper-scissors instead - much to his disappointment.
No helping it. Malfoy's allowance had dwindled after paying tuition fees, while Harry was saving every knut for years of future lessons with Wayne.
The rock-paper-scissors concluded with Malfoy grinning.
Yet another victory over Potter left him thoroughly pleased.
Grabbing the practice wand Wayne handed him, Malfoy immediately entered berserker mode.
Spells flew wildly, but Harry remained far calmer this time, eyes locked on Malfoy's wrist and wand movements to avoid lining up with their trajectory.
He'd learned to anticipate actions, too.
Waiting until spells were cast before dodging wouldn't do.
Watching their progress, Wayne nodded approvingly.
Beyond magical talents, combat aptitude existed as its own innate quality.
He'd taught this same training method to Cho and Hermione, too, with Penelope occasionally joining their sessions.
However, the results were far from satisfactory.
The three girls' mentality simply couldn't compare to Harry's—not even Malfoy's.
Perhaps this was a male instinct?
An inherent craving for violence and war. When facing combat, after the initial panic, they would rapidly mature.
Hermione could effortlessly cast various spells when dealing with immobile training dummies.
But against real opponents, she'd panic before even making a move.
Even when Cho and Penelope held fake wands, Hermione couldn't help being affected, her usual sharpness vanishing without a trace.
Wayne didn't know how to resolve this psychological issue either.
...
After one evening, both Harry and Malfoy's progress exceeded his expectations.
"Good performance. It seems we can conclude basic training ahead of schedule."
The two boys, still wincing in pain, immediately brightened. Malfoy asked, "Lawrence, what's next?"
"Spells." Wayne retrieved the fake wands and produced two parchments, writing down an incantation.
"Expelliarmus? I already know that one," Malfoy glanced at it, displeased. "I want to learn more powerful spells."
"Like the Killing Curse?" Wayne gave him a knowing smile. The blond boy shuddered, his arrogance instantly deflating.
"Expelliarmus is indeed simple, but also the most practical."
"Fast casting speed, targets a wizard's most vital tool—their wand, easy to master, and can later be modified into a non-verbal spell, making it utterly unpredictable."
"Given your current magical power, this is the most suitable spell."
Wayne explained professionally—after all, he'd been paid.
"Moreover, this isn't the standard Expelliarmus. I've made some modifications to increase its power significantly."
Hearing this, Malfoy's dissatisfaction evaporated.
He'd actually grown to trust Wayne deeply.
Wayne never showed him hostility, despite being friends with Harry, and maintained complete fairness during training without favouring either side.
Well... unless someone paid extra.
Children might have good or bad temperaments, but they're usually perceptive.
This impartial attitude had greatly increased Malfoy's regard for Wayne.
...
After the lesson, Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower.
Wayne descended the stairs with Malfoy when he suddenly remarked, "I heard the Flint family approached your father?"
Malfoy froze mid-step, staring at Wayne in shock.
"How did you know!"
"I have many pure-blood friends too," Wayne said with a smile. "They mentioned Flint actively seeking allies—your father being one."
This intelligence came from Borgin.
Though the Flint and Burke families were close, Burke chose to betray Flint this time, secretly informing Wayne.
Truthfully, Burke had been a staunch blood purity advocate. But after the Voldemort incident, he gradually realised blood status meant nothing against absolute power.
Many knew Voldemort was half-blood—so what?
When he declared himself pure-blood, who dared contradict him!
The fraction of power Wayne had revealed in Knockturn Alley was enough to impress Burke profoundly. And with the benefits of various alchemical tools laid out before him...
Who, the Flint family?
Sorry, not familiar with them.
Faced with a declining pure-blood family and a rising Dark Lord-level figure, Burke didn't hesitate to choose the latter.
Not only did he betray them, but he also acted as an informant, revealing which families Flint had contacted to Wayne.
Malfoy's expression kept shifting between pale and flushed.
He was afraid, terrified by Wayne's extensive connections.
Finally, Malfoy said obediently, "My father didn't agree. He thought... it wasn't worth going to such lengths just to target a student."
"Hmm." Wayne nodded lightly. "That does align with the Malfoy Family's way of doing things."
Malfoy hurriedly expressed his stance, "Lawrence, I've already written to my father. He won't target you, rest assured."
"Of course, you're my friend." Wayne patted his shoulder with a smile. "Mr Lucius is a smart man, too. I trust you both."
The Malfoy Family's greatest talent was picking the winning side and shifting blame.
During both Wizard Wars, they emerged as victors both times, escaping punishment.
Their slippery nature made Wayne suspect they'd taken lessons from Italy.
Many people disliked fence-sitters, viewing them as opportunistic and lacking firm principles.
But Wayne thought differently.
Fence-sitters were convenient to use. When you were powerful, they'd be the most loyal subjects, even skilled at flattery.
If you'd already failed, even the most loyal subjects couldn't turn the tide.
There was no fundamental difference between them and fence-sitters.
So Wayne believed Lucius wouldn't openly cause trouble now, at most resorting to minor schemes.
Today's pointed remark to Malfoy, deliberately showcasing his connections, was also a veiled warning.
...
Back in the dormitory, Wayne's video notebook suddenly jumped off the desk, flipping open to the second page automatically.
Glancing at his two roommates lounging on their beds, Wayne said casually: "Norman, Toby, Hannah's looking for you to play Wizard's Chess."
Toby looked up, puzzled. "Why didn't you say so earlier?"
"Oh, I forgot. She also said to bring Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. The loser has to eat ten."
Hearing the stakes, both jumped up immediately.
Norman's Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans were no ordinary ones - a special version with hardly any normal flavours. Not a single badger who'd tried them hadn't regretted it.
"Let's go, Norman. Today we'll make Hannah eat a few more."
"Last time I got one that tasted like century egg. So intense."
Soon, the two rushed out excitedly, allowing Wayne to finally answer the call.
A slightly displeased pretty face appeared on the page, but it quickly melted into a smile upon seeing the boy.
Wayne watched the girl's changing expression with an amused smile.
Fleur's beauty was extraordinary. Just quietly admiring her could lift one's mood considerably.
Especially when this beautiful girl's emotions visibly brightened at your appearance, giving Wayne an immense sense of satisfaction.
"Sorry, my roommates were here earlier. Couldn't talk freely," Wayne apologised first.
If Toby and Norman found out about Fleur's existence, it would be equivalent to telling the entire Hufflepuff house.
Which basically meant the whole school would know...
After speaking, Wayne took another look at Fleur's surroundings and asked curiously: "Is this your bedroom?"
"Mm-hmm~" Fleur held up her book. "Let me show you where I live."
Fleur's bedroom was a massive suite spanning over a thousand square feet, complete with a study, living area, private bathroom, and a large bathtub – nothing was lacking.
The entire room exuded a strong French aesthetic, brimming with an air of luxury and opulence.
Wayne couldn't help feeling envious, especially when he saw the enormous 2.5-metre-wide bed in the bedroom.
The living space Fleur had all to herself was equivalent to their entire flat back home.
Most importantly, it had its own private bathroom.
"Are all the bedrooms at your school like this?"
"Of course not." Fleur shook her head, returning to her desk and positioning her stunning face directly before the camera with evident pride. "Only the top-ranked male and female students in each year get private dormitories."
"I've lived in this room from first year through fifth year."
Knowing Fleur's competitive nature, Wayne chose to stroke her ego: "Looks like you'll be keeping it until graduation then."
"Naturally."
Fleur beamed. "If you transferred to Beauxbatons, Madame Maxime would definitely assign you one of the professors' quarters – those are far more impressive than my little room."
"Well? Tempted?"
Since the term began, Maxime had repeatedly urged Fleur to coax Wayne into transferring.
Not that Fleur needed encouragement – she'd already been entertaining the idea herself.
Wayne was appearance-conscious, and so was Fleur.
Though they were still young, she could wait a couple more years.
By the time Wayne graduated, he'd be properly cultivated.
Leaving him at Hogwarts risked someone else devouring him whole before then.
Fleur had heard from Madame Perenelle that Wayne hadn't been idle at Hogwarts, with two girls constantly orbiting around him.
Her sense of crisis had immediately skyrocketed.
"Don't bother trying to persuade me. Unless the school explodes, I'm definitely graduating from Hogwarts."
He had his own little world now – if he wanted private space, he could just climb into his trunk. What need was there for Beauxbatons?
The boy's firm stance made Fleur pout, and she dropped the transfer subject.
After some casual conversation, she broached serious matters.
"Our school has announced the Wizarding Schools Potions Championship schedule. Are you definitely participating?"
"Yes, I agreed with the professor last year. Which schools are involved?" Wayne asked.
"Seven in total." Fleur counted them off on her fingers: "Beauxbatons, Hogwarts, Durmstrang, Ilvermorny, Mahoutokoro, Koldovstoretz, and finally Uagadou."
"That many?" Wayne showed surprise – this covered nearly half the world's magical schools.
The first three were all European institutions. Koldovstoretz was also in Europe, but being located within Russia's borders, it was typically categorised separately.
Mahoutokoro was a magical school situated in Japan, with the smallest student population.
Uagadou hailed from the African continent and had maintained good relations with Hogwarts in the past.
Centuries ago, young witches and wizards from there were frequently sold as slaves to Britain, after which Uagadou would contact Hogwarts to ransom them back...
"I was surprised at first, too," Fleur said, resting her chin on her hand. "Madame Maxime said inter-school exchanges will become more frequent from now on. This is just the beginning."
"Will you be entering the potions competition?" Wayne asked again.
"My skills aren't quite up to standard," Fleur admitted with regret. "After all, I've only just reached fifth year..."
Mid-sentence, she suddenly remembered the boy opposite her was merely a second-year student yet still qualified to participate.
The words died in her throat.
It all sounded like making excuses for himself.
"It's all your fault!" Fleur pouted, leaving Wayne utterly confused.
Seeing his dumbfounded expression, the girl couldn't help but laugh again.