Aragog did not feel anger—in fact, he felt relieved that Wayne had kept his word and spared their lives.
As for the idea of revenge… it didn't even cross his mind.
Given Wayne's age, with time he would only grow stronger. If he simply left Aragog's colony alone in the future, Aragog would already consider himself lucky.
In fact, Aragog had already decided:
Once they returned, they would move!
The farther away from the unicorns' territory, the better—anything to avoid running into this walking catastrophe again.
Unfortunately, Aragog didn't know that he and his descendants had now been "honoured" with the title of Wayne's designated suppliers—meaning there would be plenty more dealings with him in the future.
Not long after the Acromantulas left, the centaurs returned.
This time it wasn't just the dozen or so from before—there were several more, each carrying bundles of herbs on their backs.
The leading centaur placed the herbs on the ground and approached Wayne.
"Greetings. I am Firenze."
Wayne nodded. He remembered the name—Firenze would, in the not-so-distant future, become Hogwarts' Divination professor.
"Tonight, Mars shines brightly," Firenze said gravely. "I had warned Razi and the others to be cautious, but sadly, they did not take my warning to heart. For this entirely unnecessary conflict, and for Bane's rudeness, I offer you my sincere apologies."
Razi lowered his head in shame.
Centaurs often based their divinations on the stars, and Mars, more often than not, was a harbinger of war and disaster.
"It's fine. Sometimes a fight is the best way to make acquaintances," Wayne said with a small smile.
His sharp eyes quickly noted the amount and variety of the herbs, and just like that, he seemed to have forgotten the earlier unpleasantness. He chatted amiably with Firenze for a while, and once all the herbs had been set down—
Firenze once again thanked Wayne for showing mercy, nodded politely to Hestia, and led the rest of the herd away.
A soft whinny broke the moment.
It was time to part ways.
Hestia called gently, and Wayne reached out to rub her head.
"All right, you've just given birth—you must be tired. Go and rest."
Her large eyes shone with reluctance, but carrying her foal, she finally turned and slowly made her way into the darkness, glancing back every few steps until she was gone.
"Ho-Oh, take me back," Wayne said.
"Once we're in the Forbidden Forest, stay close to Hestia for now."
"Chuu!"
With a flash of golden-red light, the forest returned to silence.
The next morning, Wayne went to see Cho. The moment she saw him, the young witch's cheeks flushed pink.
After Madam Pomfrey's examination confirmed she was completely fine, Cho was discharged. She was even cleared to play in the upcoming Quidditch match.
She thanked Wayne profusely—but this time, there was no hug.
"Come to think of it," Wayne teased, "does this count as aiding the enemy? Don't forget—next month, Ravenclaw's opponent is Hufflepuff."
"Hmph!" Cho shot him a dazzling white-eyed glance. "Even if you say that, I won't hold back."
"Good," Wayne nodded approvingly. "Make sure you don't. I'd hate for you to lose badly and come crying to me."
"You're the one who'll be crying," Cho retorted. "I'm not the sort of girl who bursts into tears at the first sign of trouble—"
"Oh?" Wayne drew out the sound. "Funny, I wonder who it was yesterday, with eyes so red when I walked in—"
" Don't say it!" Cho's face reddened even more as she chased after him, swatting playfully.
Laughter and the sound of light footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Thankfully, Filch and Mrs. Norris were nowhere on the second floor—otherwise, the two would surely have been given detention.
Cho's miraculous overnight recovery caused quite a stir in Ravenclaw. Many had overheard Madam Pomfrey's diagnosis yesterday, so to see her discharged after just one night—and ready to play Quidditch—was nothing short of shocking.
To everyone's questions, Cho simply smiled and said Madam Pomfrey had given her a rare, potent potion that sped up her recovery.
That was exactly what Madam Pomfrey had told her to say—meant to protect Wayne and keep Ho-Oh's existence a secret.
Say what you will, but when it came to protecting their students, Hogwarts' professors were remarkably dependable.
It was one of the reasons Wayne didn't mind revealing certain secrets while at school.
Overall, the wizarding world was still relatively peaceful.
Barring the uncertainty brought by the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Hogwarts truly was a haven.
Wayne didn't have to worry about Dumbledore or the four Heads of House coveting his wealth.
As for everyone else…
What rubbish or small fry could possibly be worth his concern?
If they annoyed him enough—well—there were always more… decisive measures he could take.
And don't forget, he wasn't just a wizard—he was a noble.
Of course, Cho's recovery was a source of joy.
But there was one thing that left Wayne slightly uneasy:
The atmosphere between him, Cho, and Hermione had grown a little… odd.
Before, the three of them often acted together.
Even when Wayne wasn't around, Cho and Hermione would still visit the library together to work on homework.
The two had gotten along extremely well.
But since that night, moments when the two of them were in the same place had become rare.
Even if Wayne deliberately brought them together, they spoke very little.
When each was alone with him, they acted perfectly normal.
Wayne didn't really have a good solution.
He had been busy to the point of exhaustion lately.
By day he attended classes, and while others spent time on homework, he was also developing new products.
Every night, he not only went out on nocturnal excursions to practise spells and scour the Restricted Section, but also visited Hestia to check on her and the baby unicorn, often bringing them food.
His schedule was already packed to the limit.
Another Tuesday night came around.
Wayne arrived, as usual, at Snape's office.
The difference this time was that it wasn't a potion Snape had assigned him to brew—it was something Wayne had requested himself.
"You want to make an Elixir of Increased Intellect?"
Snape's brows furrowed—not because Wayne lacked the skill.
With a Potions Master like him supervising, coupled with Wayne's freakish memory and natural talent, his potion-making skills had improved rapidly.
Even this advanced potion was within his reach.
What made Snape hesitate was the ingredients.
Beetle eyes, ginger root, and toad bile were all common enough…
But Acromantula venom and Boomslang skin—those were much rarer, and his own supply was meagre.
"Professor, I have both the Boomslang skin and the Acromantula venom," Wayne said, producing the two items.
When Snape saw a full gallon of Acromantula venom, his eyes widened.
"Lawrence, where did you get so much venom?"
"And this snake skin—it's at least fifty years old!"
"Bought it in Diagon Alley, Professor," Wayne replied with a brilliant smile.
In truth, the Boomslang skins had been a gift from the centaurs—over a dozen in total. For one cauldron of Elixir, he'd only need a small section from a single skin.
Snape gave him a look that all but said, Don't insult my intelligence.
He had ties with every apothecary in Diagon Alley. Any time something rare arrived, he was informed immediately.
Not bothering to press further, Snape simply asked, "Selling?"
Clunk!
Wayne slammed a gold bar down on the desk, raising an eyebrow.
"Do I look like I'm short of money?"
The relationship between the two was an odd one—technically teacher and student, with Snape even tutoring him privately—
but each was always looking for a chance to get one over on the other.
If Wayne saw a chance to make Snape look bad, he would never pass it up.
"Hmph! Waste of ingredients," Snape muttered through gritted teeth, but he still brought out the recipe for the Elixir.
Potions of this level couldn't be completed in two short hours.
When time was up, Wayne left the cauldron in Snape's office to continue brewing, and headed out.
Snape, left staring at the steaming golden liquid, couldn't help but itch with curiosity.
How does this brat have so many rare things…?
The next morning.
Wayne reluctantly dragged himself from the warmth of his bed. The weather had grown sharper—snow wouldn't be far off.
He woke his two roommates as usual, washed up, and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.
When he arrived, his steps faltered.
The entire hall was filled with the scent of pumpkins, and the students' chatter all pointed to one thing—
Halloween was coming.
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