"What possessed you to research this stuff?"
Cedric, having overheard their entire conversation, asked in bewilderment.
Gender-Swap Mints... he couldn't even imagine Wayne's mental state when developing these.
"Just a byproduct." Wayne shrugged. "Experiments get weird sometimes. I can't control what results emerge."
"Give me some then." Cedric suddenly grinned.
Bloody hell.
Everyone around them stared at him in a strange way.
Realising how his words sounded, Cedric quickly corrected himself.
"Don't get the wrong idea! Not for me – it's for Lockhart."
"Ohhh." The group immediately believed him.
Not without reason – Cedric had suffered so much under Lockhart's antics that the model student's current behaviour was completely understandable.
Cedric never imagined the school would get a professor even worse than Quirrell.
When Lockhart first made him play the Werewolf, the respectful Cedric hadn't grasped the severity, dutifully completing his role.
Then Lockhart fixated on him. From Werewolves to Vampires, Yetis to Dark Wizards – there wasn't a role he hadn't played.
"Here." Wayne sympathetically produced a crystal vial. "This is the base solution. Use it sparingly. No charge this time."
Cedric snatched it lightning-fast, then asked curiously:
"Lockhart's never made you perform in his plays, has he? I thought you two got along?"
Wayne smiled. "Confundus Charm."
Cedric's expression became priceless.
Meanwhile, seeing Harry return limping, Ron asked concernedly: "What did Wayne say?"
Harry hesitated, ultimately deciding not to mention the Gender-Swap Mint to Ron.
He hadn't decided whether to use them yet.
The first time was always the hardest – he needed more time to mentally prepare.
...
After breakfast.
The Hufflepuff students crossed the gardens towards the greenhouses.
Norman roughly shoved past the dawdling Zacharias Smith. "Move aside! Don't hold everyone up!"
Smith's face turned ashen, but facing Norman, Toby, and the few young badgers beside them, he dared not say anything and silently stepped aside.
Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan watched their housemate's unfair treatment with cold indifference.
Wayne smiled at Smith: "Sorry about that, Norman's a bit impatient."
With that, he continued walking forward, the others following behind. Smith could still hear Susan muttering.
"Wayne, you're just too nice. Someone like Smith doesn't deserve..."
Wayne smiled without responding.
If he didn't play nice, how could he make everyone dislike Smith more and more?
Since Smith's betrayal during the Slytherin door-blocking incident, he had been completely isolated within Hufflepuff house.
If transferring schools were an option, Smith would never choose to remain at Hogwarts, enduring daily scornful and disdainful looks.
But who could blame his family for lacking the means to remove him?
The more magnanimous Wayne appeared, the more the little badgers detested Smith.
Now, even his roommates refused to speak to him.
Wayne had been practising the principles he taught Tom all along.
Make more friends, make fewer enemies.
His side would always be the majority.
Not because he chose conformity, but because the crowd chose him.
...
Thursday arrived, and Harry, after days of hesitation, finally made up his mind.
Well, he was already here.
No—he already had it, so it'd be a waste not to try.
Choosing the lesser of two evils, between the fear of gender transformation and Snape's wrath, the latter seemed far more terrifying.
If it proved useless, he'd simply pretend nothing happened.
If it worked... well, he'd cross that bridge later.
Stepping out of the Common Room, Harry steeled himself, closed his eyes, and swallowed the peppermint candy in one gulp.
Ron was still wondering why he looked like he was swallowing poison rather than candy when Harry began to change before his eyes.
His hair grew wildly, soon cascading past his shoulders. His strong jawline softened and narrowed slightly, his facial features undergoing subtle alterations.
Thump!
Thump!
Ron's eyes widened as his heart pounded madly.
"Ha-Harry, you..."
"What's wrong, Ron?" Harry started, then startled at the sound of his own voice.
Why was it so high-pitched?!
Gulp.
Ron swallowed hard just as the Weasley twins emerged from behind the Fat Lady.
"Ronnikins, why're you standing there gawping? And who's this?"
Fred studied Harry curiously.
"George, it's me, Harry."
"I'm Fred, not George. Wait!" Fred gaped at him. "Harry?"
Five minutes later, the twins finally grasped the situation.
George sucked in a sharp breath.
Methods could be unconventional, but this was downright bizarre.
'Wayne has completely hoodwinked Harry...'
But he had no intention of saying so, instead steering Harry towards the Great Hall.
"Come on, let's show everyone. Not bad, actually—you look quite pretty."
"If you'd been born a girl, you'd probably have been Wayne's second-year girlfriend."
...
By breakfast, nearly every Gryffindor had seen the new-and-improved Harrie, some almost choking on their porridge in shock.
Many students' hearts raced just as Ron's did.
Hermione handed Harry a small vial of potion, her expression complicated.
Wayne really... knows how to play.
She had to admit that Harry's transformed appearance gave her even a twinge of insecurity.
"What's this?" Harry took the vial curiously.
"From Wayne. He said it enhances the effect when used together."
Without hesitation, Harry uncorked it and downed the contents.
Having already temporarily changed gender, what more could he possibly refuse? Down the hatch.
Poof!
A cloud of smoke rose from his head as his black locks transformed into a beautiful wine-red hue.
"Did I just gain another sister?" Ginny couldn't help but quip as she looked at Harry's current appearance, with Ron and the twins nodding in agreement.
Harry didn't understand what purpose Wayne had in dyeing his hair, but such a minor change didn't bother him.
...
After finishing his meal, Harry headed straight to the Potions Classroom.
Along the way, Ron, Neville, and even Seamus couldn't resist stealing glances at him.
"Would you stop staring?" Harry complained, already regretting having listened to Wayne's nonsense.
"Not my fault," Ron said innocently, spreading his hands. "Who could accept their roommate suddenly turning into a girl?"
"It's temporary," Harry corrected. "If you want to try it, go ask Wayne."
"No thanks," the others quickly shook their heads.
Upon arriving at the underground Potions Classroom, they found it already quite full. Malfoy was boasting to Crabbe and Goyle when his gaze inadvertently caught the red-haired girl entering the room. His eyes locked onto her instantly.
'Who is that?'
'So beautiful!'
Those emerald-green eyes especially made his heart race.
"Who's that girl?" Malfoy asked the Slytherins nearby, but none recognised her.
He stealthily moved closer and overheard Ron and Neville addressing the redhead, receiving what felt like a thunderbolt from clear skies.
'Harry?!'
'How could it be him?'
'No—how could it be her?'
Just then, Snape entered the classroom through the back door.
Spotting Malfoy slumped over his desk with an expression as if he'd seen a ghost, Snape instinctively prepared to reprimand him.
But when his eyes followed Malfoy's gaze, his body froze abruptly. His eyes uncontrollably reddened, tears welling up and spilling over as his face twisted with emotion.
"Lily...!"
The person who had appeared countless times in his dreams and memories now stood before him in reality, completely shattering his usual composure.
Fortunately, no students noticed his reaction, all too preoccupied with the sudden appearance of the red-haired girl to pay him any attention. This gave him time to collect himself.
Cold rationality reminded him that Lily was dead—had been for over a decade.
Yet that flash of red hair effortlessly pierced through the fragile defences around his emotions.
Snape swiftly retreated through the door, taking a full ten minutes to recompose his expressionless mask, washing away all traces of tears and distress.
...
Meanwhile, Wayne, attending History of Magic with the Ravenclaw students, noticed the steadily increasing points on his system interface and allowed a faint smile to curl his lips.
Judging by the sheer volume of points, he could easily imagine just how violently Snape's emotions must be fluctuating.
Though it was Harry who'd triggered the reaction, the mastermind behind it all... was undoubtedly himself.
Earning points had never been easier.
At the same time, he marvelled at how peculiar human emotions could be.
Snape's feelings for Lily could perhaps be divided into two phases.
The first spanned their seven school years, plus Snape's initial years as a Death Eater.
Had he loved Lily then?
Undoubtedly—yet back then, his heart still harboured the standard Slytherin cravings for power, status, and glory.
That was why Snape had chosen to follow Voldemort.
Hoping one day to win Lily back through his own achievements.
His love for her then paled in comparison to what it would become.
But everything changed after Lily's death. Some emotions fade with time and departure, while others grow richer and more profound.
When Snape nearly caused the death of his beloved with his own hands, forever sealing away his unspoken feelings...
Guilt, regret, adoration, grief...
These tangled, complex emotions underwent a qualitative transformation through their entanglement.
Every day Snape lived, his heart endured this torment, only to love Lily more deeply.
To be targeted by such a man... Voldemort never stood a chance.
With his obsessive survival instincts that led him to create six or seven Horcruxes, how could he have anticipated someone entering the game with their very life as the stake to outwit fate?
Wayne desperately wanted to rush to the Potions Classroom to witness Snape's expression firsthand.
But while Professor Binns might be a ghost, he wasn't foolish - he'd certainly notice a living student suddenly vanishing.
"What's wrong, Wayne?" Padma Patil, who'd been keeping watch, asked curiously when she saw him jolt awake.
"Nothing. Just a nightmare."
"Mhm, go back to sleep then. I'll wake you if the professor looks over."
"You're wonderful, Padma."
"Heh."
...
Potions Classroom.
When Snape finally appeared before the students, the lesson bell had long since rung.
This astonished the young witches and wizards.
Snape was notoriously punctual, often arriving precisely with the bell's chime yet never late.
This marked the first such occurrence in history.
"Potter..." Snape drawled, struggling against the sting in his nose as he gazed at Harry sitting beside Ron.
"Explain what mischief you're brewing this time."
Bloody hell...
Though the words were as unfriendly as ever during these interrogations, why did Harry detect an undertone of... fondness in that drawn-out syllable?
Convinced he must be hallucinating, Harry stammered: "P-professor, I accidentally ate Wayne's experimental sample..."
"Lawrence?" Snape's eyes narrowed.
'That wicked Lawrence...'
'Brilliant work!'
This marked Snape's first positive assessment of the naturally wicked Lawrence all term.
Even knowing it was false, seeing that face so reminiscent of Lily's with those identical eyes could lift his spirits for an entire day.
Outwardly, Snape maintained his usual composure.
"A rather novel potion. Do you have any more? Hand it all over."
Harry scratched his head sheepishly. "No, I don't."
Snape looked disappointed but made a mental note to question Lawrence later, hoping to extract the formula through subtle means.
"Who are you trying to look pitiful for, Potter?"
Malfoy sneered mockingly. This was his way of getting Harry's attention—making those eyes focus on him.
Sure enough, Harry turned and glared at him furiously.
But unfortunately, someone else wasn't pleased either.
"Malfoy," Snape said disapprovingly. "Who gave you permission to speak out of turn?"
"Five points from Slytherin!"
The young wizards were stunned.
Merlin's beard—Snape had actually taken points from his own house!
"Ahem!"
Realising he'd overreacted, Snape cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. "Today, we will be brewing the Babbling Beverage. The key points to note are..."
No one dared to let their attention wander in Snape's class—except for Wayne.
Soon, everyone focused intently on the potion instructions.
As Harry bent over his notes, Snape glanced at him repeatedly, his lecturing voice noticeably louder than usual, devoid of its usual irritating drawl.
During the practical segment, Harry picked up fairy wings to crush in his mortar when Snape appeared behind him.
"Less force. Don't squeeze out the juices—it'll affect the potency."
Harry groaned inwardly, complaining that Wayne's method wasn't working.
Whether male or female, Snape still had his eyes on him.
But gradually, he began to notice... it might actually be helping?
Though Snape's standards remained exacting, his tone had shifted. There were no sarcastic remarks, and Harry found himself actually listening.
It was like being taught by a normal professor.
In better spirits, Harry worked more efficiently, and Snape's lips twitched upward imperceptibly.
He'd never noticed before, assuming Potter had only inherited James' talent for flying and Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Turns out he'd inherited Lily's gift for Potions too.
Did it only manifest after taking Lawrence's gender-switching potion?
To prevent wasting such promising talent, he'd have to speak with Lawrence.
Purely for the students' benefit, of course.
Seeing Harry's Babbling Beverage was nearly complete, Snape had no excuse to linger and began patrolling the classroom.
"Longbottom, shall we pluck out your eyeballs for someone who needs them? Are you saving those doxy eggs to hatch?"
"Thomas, do you know what one hundred millilitres of water looks like?"
"You do? Then why add so little? Is the school short on water?"
Hearing the familiar sarcasm, Harry finally appreciated the advantages of his transformation.
Ron nudged him. "Wayne's trick actually works! Things'll be easier from now on."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Just too expensive—two Galleons."
"Using it occasionally shouldn't be a problem."
Even from a distance, Snape's expression darkened as he watched Ron and Harry whispering together.
As the class came to a close, he inspected each student's work.
Nodding approvingly at Harry's outstanding Babbling Beverage, he moved on. "Harry Potter, twenty points."
Then, spotting Ron beside her and recalling how the two had been arm in arm earlier, his good mood instantly evaporated.
"Ron Weasley, since you were just spectating without lifting a finger, thirty points from Gryffindor!"