Bloody hell.
Wayne was witnessing coquettishness—and that blush—on a nine-foot-tall half-giant.
He shook his head vigorously.
Hallucinations. Definitely hallucinations.
"Hagrid, can you act normal for once?" Wayne said helplessly. "Just tell me what you need. If it's something I can help with, I will."
Here he was, a young wizard with an impeccable reputation, and Hagrid actually thought bribery would work on him.
How utterly disappointing!
Wayne quietly confiscated the "dirty evidence" to keep for future reference.
"Let's not talk bout that." Hagrid chuckled awkwardly, looking somewhat dejected. "I jus' wanted ter ask why ye didn' take Care of Magical Creatures. Harry an' the others all chose it..."
"Ah, that." Wayne pondered for a moment, choosing his words carefully.
"Truth is, I only took Divination as my elective. As for Care of Magical Creatures, I didn't know you'd be teaching it," Wayne boldly turned the tables.
"Frankly, this is on you. Had you mentioned it earlier, I might have chosen it."
Hagrid's face lit up. "Then hurry an' add it now! Ye can still change courses durin' the first two weeks."
"Er." Wayne's expression froze.
He'd just been being polite... how could Hagrid take it seriously?
Though Wayne and Hagrid were friends, that didn't mean he blindly agreed with everything Hagrid did.
While Hagrid was undoubtedly skilled with magical creatures—treating the Forbidden Forest like his backyard—his standards for "cute" versus "dangerous" differed drastically from those of normal people.
To preserve his own aesthetic sensibilities, Wayne decided self-preservation was best.
"You know about my connection with Newt, right?" Wayne asked.
"Course I do," Hagrid nodded, confused.
"Actually, I don't think I need formal lessons in magical creature care. As you know, I've got plenty on my plate. But I'll sit the annual exams."
Seeing no alternative, Wayne came clean.
Though disappointed, Hagrid respected Wayne's choice—he truly had little left to teach him anyway. That hadn't been why he'd called Wayne here today.
"My first class's this afternoon… with Harry," Hagrid said, fidgetin' again. "D'you… got any advice? I'm a bit… nervous, y'know."
"What creatures did you prepare?" Wayne asked.
"Hippogriffs. Lovely lil' things."
Hearing this expected answer, Wayne's eye still twitched.
What Hagrid considered adorable might terrify the younger students.
"Hagrid." Wayne's tone sharpened slightly, making the half-giant sit up straight, watching him anxiously.
"You need to understand this: what's dangerous or cute isn't for you to decide. That's up to the students."
Hagrid looked bewildered.
"But… they ain't really dangerous, y'know."
"No, your opinion doesn't matter here," Wayne cut in urgently. "If you want my advice: never introduce creatures above XXXX rating to students below fifth year."
With lunchtime limited, he couldn't afford to debate this endlessly.
"What should I do then?" Hagrid wrung his hands. "I only prepared the Hippogriffs. No other teachin' materials."
"Proceed with this lesson. But for the next one, follow Newt's textbook. Understood?"
To ensure Hagrid would remember, Wayne even resorted to mental suggestion techniques—a testament to his thoroughness.
"I-I understand," the half-giant nodded repeatedly.
"Did Malfoy sign up for your class, too?" Wayne suddenly asked.
"Aye, there ain't many Slytherin students. His little gang all signed up."
"I reckon Malfoy won't behave himself during class. Here's what you should do…"
Wayne proposed a method, to which Hagrid responded with uneasy suspicion: "Reckon that'll really work?"
"Trust me, it'll be fine."
By then, several students had already arrived outside, having come straight after lunch.
Through the window, Wayne spotted Harry, Ron and Neville approaching from a distance.
"Right, you should start preparing now. If Malfoy acts up, just do as I said."
With that, Wayne left.
Committing the boy's advice to memory, Hagrid took a deep breath and went out with his hound Fang to greet the gathering students.
Soon, everyone had arrived.
"Follow me, no wanderin' off!" Hagrid led the students to the perimeter of a small paddock—completely empty inside.
After first teaching the flustered young wizards how to open the Goblins' textbooks, Hagrid disappeared.
In his absence, Malfoy took every opportunity to mock Hagrid.
The two had once shared some camaraderie due to Norbert the dragon.
But ever since his father was expelled from the school board while Hagrid emerged unscathed—even having his name cleared—Malfoy couldn't stand the sight of him.
Hagrid's earlier clumsy performance provided perfect ammunition.
"Shut it, Malfoy!" Hermione snapped irritably at his noise, finally silencing him.
Shortly after, Hagrid returned with over a dozen majestic Hippogriffs trotting into the enclosure. The young wizards collectively retreated two steps as the creatures approached.
After briefly explaining Hippogriff behaviour and how to gain their respect, Hagrid sought a volunteer for a demonstration.
With everyone taking another step back, Harry inevitably became the chosen one.
Maintaining eye contact, bowing—Harry executed each step flawlessly, earning the creature's approval.
Watching Harry soar skyward astride the snow-white beast, the other students grew eager.
Once initial fear faded, the Hippogriffs proved magnificent—their white plumage and broad wings resembling legendary gryphons.
"Come on then! This is child's play, isn't it?" Malfoy called out.
Hagrid's smile from Harry's success dimmed considerably.
While monitoring Hermione's attempt, he approached Malfoy.
"Mind yer tongue, boy."
"Threatening me, oaf?" Malfoy glared fiercely.
How dare this half-breed menace a pureblood heir?
"Curious about Norbert's well-bein'?" Hagrid applauded Hermione's success before addressing the conflicted Malfoy:
"I've photos from Charlie—Norbert's grown tremendously. Don't ye want ter see?"
"Damn you," Malfoy ground his teeth. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm not scared—I just want to check on Norbert."
"Course, course." Hagrid was overjoyed inside but didn't show it.
"As long as ye follow me instructions properly in this lesson without any mischief, I'll give ye the photo after class."
"If you dare trick me, I'll have my father sack you!" Malfoy spat out the threat before finally falling silent.
...
With the Malfoy situation resolved, Hagrid thought he could finally relax.
But what happened next nearly gave him a heart attack. Neville lost his balance while bowing and fell to the ground, startling the Hippogriff in front of him. The creature began thrashing its hooves wildly.
It kicked Neville a good five or six metres away, sending him crashing heavily onto the ground.
Fortunately, yesterday's rain had left the grass soft, and Neville managed to stand up on his own, clutching his chest where he'd been kicked.
He didn't seem seriously hurt.
But it was enough to frighten Hagrid.
He finally understood why Wayne had said that even a creature rated XXX could be dangerous for the students.
After class, still worried, he took Neville to the hospital wing for a check-up.
Upon hearing the injury was caused by a Hippogriff, Madam Pomfrey gave Hagrid another earful, and he didn't dare argue back.
By dinner time, Wayne had also heard the news and couldn't help shaking his head.
Not at Hagrid, but at Dumbledore.
Just look at the people you've chosen.
Care of Magical Creatures wasn't as cursed as Defence Against the Dark Arts—there were plenty of suitable candidates out there. Hagrid would be better off sticking to his duties in the Forbidden Forest.
Wayne couldn't help but wonder maliciously if Dumbledore had made Hagrid take on the role just to save on a salary.
"Too cruel."
"What's too cruel?" Astoria tilted her head, looking at Wayne curiously.
"Nothing. I was saying your picky eating is too cruel," Wayne snapped back to reality, continuing to lecture the rich little girl.
"You need to eat everything for a balanced diet. Finish those carrots."
"No way!" Astoria pouted dramatically. "Carrots are the most evil food in the world. I won't eat them!"
"You think that's bad?" Wayne sneered. "Don't make me cook you a coriander and green pepper soup."
The rich little girl paled. "Th-that's not even food!"
Wayne remained unmoved. "Either eat the carrots or the coriander and green peppers. Your choice."
In the end, Astoria reluctantly finished the carrots, then downed a large mug of hot chocolate to recover.
Only then did she realise: "Wait, didn't you pick out some of those carrots too?"
"That's not important," Wayne smoothly changed the subject. "Remember what I said during the summer holidays?"
"What?" Astoria blinked blankly.
"The assessment after the term starts. You're duelling Harry this Saturday. Are you ready?"
"Huh?" Astoria froze—she'd completely forgotten about that.
She'd thought Wayne was joking. He was serious?
"I..." She immediately tried to come up with an excuse to wriggle out of it, but Wayne saw right through her little scheme and pinched her cheek in exasperation.
"No escaping. Even if the sky falls, you're showing up."
"Fine," Astoria grumbled, already plotting how to win over the weekend.
That evening, the rich little girl took Gardevoir to the Room of Requirement for training. Wayne thought she really should've been sorted into Hufflepuff.
For food, she could summon boundless potential.
...
Tuesday.
The moment Wayne stepped into the Great Hall, he was swarmed by young wizards.
After a day of rumours, nearly everyone knew he'd invented a brooch that could repel Dementors.
No one had been bold enough to test it on an actual Dementor yet, but many had already experienced its mood-boosting effects.
Not wanting to disturb others during mealtime, Wayne had no choice but to lead everyone to a side chamber, even pulling Cho over to help.
Wayne handled distributing the badges while Cho collected payments. The division of labour between genders made the work effortless, and within half an hour, they'd already sold three hundred.
"That's all for today, we'll continue tomorrow," Wayne called out, prompting disappointed murmurs from the remaining queue of young wizards before they dispersed.
"You make earning money look so easy," Cho said enviously. In such a short time, three hundred Galleons had been made – equivalent to what an ordinary Ministry of Magic employee might earn in half a year.
"Just a bit of fun. If we're talking serious profits, this can't compare to the Firebolt," Wayne chuckled.
"True," Cho conceded, recalling the actual production costs of the Firebolt that Wayne had previously shared with her. Now that was real money...
Returning to the Great Hall, they found the postal owls swooping in with letters for the students.
Hagrid had written again, thanking Wayne for yesterday's guidance, before asking which magical creatures might be more suitable for younger students.
Wayne, a firm believer that aesthetics equated to righteousness, immediately listed the cutest creatures: Bowtruckles, Mooncalves, Nifflers, and Diricawls. He trusted his taste – no sensible young wizard would argue with these choices.
Whether Hagrid would take issue with this wasn't his concern.
Handing the letter to an owl that had just delivered the post, Wayne rewarded it with some breadcrumbs before the dutiful bird flew off without complaint.
He then prepared to join his classmates for their morning Herbology class.
"Mr Lawrence!"
Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly called from the entrance. "Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you in his office."
Wayne looked at his watch in confusion. "Professor, class is about to start."
"Just have your classmates explain your absence. It won't count as tardy."
"Alright then." Unsure why Dumbledore wanted him, Wayne agreed and accompanied Professor McGonagall upstairs.
Reaching the third floor, McGonagall departed for her lesson while Wayne continued alone to the eighth-floor gargoyle.
"Ah, long time no see, young wizard," the gargoyle grinned widely.
"Likewise." Wayne patted its stony head. "Have you put on weight?"
"I've grown more imposing," the 1.7-metre gargoyle corrected seriously. "This summer, Dumbledore upgraded me again. Now I could swallow every student's letters without feeling full!"
"Congratulations," Wayne laughed, giving its belly an affectionate pat. "Now open up – the Headmaster's waiting."
"Hmph, very well. Come chat sometime," the gargoyle grumbled as it stepped aside.
"Next time for sure." With a wave, Wayne stepped onto the automatic lift and entered the office.
Dumbledore was bent over his desk writing letters. He glanced up at Wayne's entrance. "One moment, please."
Wayne nodded indifferently, taking a seat opposite. A cup of his favourite black tea appeared automatically on the table, though still full from breakfast, he only took a symbolic sip.
Five minutes later, Dumbledore finished writing – not one letter, but several.
He handed them to Fawkes.
The Phoenix-turned-courier gave Dumbledore a couple of reluctant pecks before soaring out the window.
"Things have been rather hectic lately." Dumbledore began with a smile. "Many matters have been buried for so long that finding people still alive from those days isn't easy, let alone relevant parties."
"About Tom?"
"Precisely." Dumbledore showed no intention of concealment. "He was always enigmatic. Few knew where he went after graduation, and I'm still investigating."
"The reason I called you here relates to this," Dumbledore said directly. "I must depart for some time, even though the school currently needs me."
"But there's no helping it. More pressing matters always arise."
"Er, then why summon me instead of Professor McGonagall?" Wayne asked, puzzled.