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Frankly speaking, Snape was very sincere. As a young potion master, the potions he carefully refined were always in high demand, and their quality and level were guaranteed.
But Wayne wanted more.
"Professor, what do you think of my potion talent?"
Snape nodded slightly and said with a hint of disdain, "I can barely see it, which is much better than those idiots."
Coming from Snape, this was a great compliment. He had recently tried every means to find fault with Wayne, but Wayne had never made any mistakes in refining potions because he followed the process Snape left behind step by step. Even if there were deviations from the content in the book, Wayne didn't hesitate to use Snape's methods, unlike some who regarded the book as absolute truth.
Wayne wasn't angry either. His potion talent was A+, while Snape was definitely S or even higher. Even Voldemort relied on Snape to refine some potions, showing how skilled he was.
Wayne smiled and took a step back, afraid a few drops of oil might fall from Snape's hair.
"Professor, I've learned all the class materials recently. Even the first and second grade textbooks are not difficult. I feel that my talent is a bit wasted."
"You want tutoring?" Snape instinctively wanted to refuse. He was extremely busy with classes every day. Each grade had ten classes from first through fifth. After passing the OLWs exam, potions became elective, leaving only two classes in sixth and seventh grade. Additionally, he had to help Dumbledore keep an eye on Quirrell, leaving him with very little personal time.
But Snape wanted those materials. Especially Phoenix Tears, used alone, were already the top healing medicine, far exceeding Bai Xian Essence. If he refined them into a magic potion, it could save someone as long as they had a breath left.
He had once asked Dumbledore for some, but the phoenix refused to cry. What could he do?
"First show me the materials you collected."
Snape couldn't resist the temptation and wanted to see the goods before making a decision. Wayne was already prepared. He reached into his pants pocket, fiddled for a while, and pulled out a dragon skin bag. Snape gave him a deep look. The Traceless Stretching Spell was not difficult but was relatively challenging for outstanding students about to graduate. Wayne had mastered it in the third grade, although he had only been in school for less than a month.
Wayne poured out the contents of the dragon skin bag—a few feathers, a delicate crystal bottle filled with some liquid, and a transparent jar filled with feces. Picking up the feather and feeling its abundant magic and slightly hot touch, Snape smiled with satisfaction. But when he saw the liquid in the crystal bottle, he was dissatisfied.
"Why so little?"
Wayne's mouth twitched. "Professor, this is a lot. All I collected this week is here, and I haven't kept any for myself. How much more do you want?"
Snape asked tentatively, "A pint?"
Wayne rolled his eyes. "Kill me, a pint of Phoenix tears? These are tears, not saliva!"
Snape felt he was going too far and changed his mind. "Give me another bottle of this much, and I can tutor you for a month."
"One year."
"One year?" Snape sneered. "Do you know how much those potion companies would pay to hire me to instruct their pharmacists?"
"How much does it cost to buy the tears of a phoenix?"
"Two months, at most."
"Until Easter."
After a lot of bargaining, they finally agreed on a time before Christmas. Wayne would come to Snape for lessons every Tuesday night, and Wayne also needed to give him two more bottles of the same amount of Phoenix Tears.
Having achieved his goal, Wayne left happily. For Neville and Harry, Snape was definitely not a good teacher. All kinds of verbal humiliation and bad relationships made them unable to listen to the class at all.
But Wayne wasn't afraid. Every time Snape pointed out his problem, it was the most critical point, which was extremely efficient. The time before Christmas was enough for him to learn a lot.
The only regret was that his potion talent was a bit low. A+ talent was indeed enough, but Wayne, who had experienced SS-level talent learning spells and various white magic efficiency, knew the gap was too big.
"System, open the panel."
Without looking at other attributes, Wayne scrolled directly to the bottom.
[Points: 6508]
Wayne sighed. Thanks to the big guys in Slytherin, without them, his points wouldn't have grown so fast. At least half of them were the points earned from those little Slytherin wizards who bought the map.
Oh, by the way, Snape had deducted several points from him recently, which contributed significantly. The rest were obtained by Wayne himself, usually by violating school rules and making mischief. Quirrell took up most of this part, making Defense Against the Dark Arts Wayne's favorite class. If nothing else, the more than one hundred points for each class were enough to make him laugh out loud.
Wayne had already wasted a lot of time bargaining with Snape, so he simply didn't go back to the common room and went directly to the Great Hall to eat. Then he saw Harry and Malfoy standing at the door like two door guards, looking at each other from a distance of two meters. Ronald also glared fiercely at Malfoy's two followers. The intense stare-down could spark sparks.
"What are you doing?" Wayne asked curiously, and the others finally came back to their senses.
"It's nothing, Lawrence." Malfoy nodded to Wayne, no longer stalemating with Harry, and whispered in his ear before leaving, "Don't be so scared that you wet your pants and don't dare to come."
Although he felt his voice was low, Wayne could still hear it clearly, and his heart moved. Was this a duel? Oh no, it wasn't a duel. Wayne remembered that Malfoy had tricked Harry and the others, then went to tell Filch instead.
"Wayne, Malfoy actually said hello to you?" Harry retracted his gaze from Malfoy's leaving back and looked at Wayne in surprise. Not only he, but Ronald also complained.
"Malfoy's eyes are in his nostrils. He can't see anyone except pure-bloods. Could it be that his eyes fell out today?"
"Maybe because you bought my map, it would be nice to say hello," Wayne waved his hand. "What were you talking about just now? You almost got into a fight."
"Nothing!"
Ronald and Harry said in unison, looked at each other, and Harry quickly added, "He just laughed at my scar again, and I said something back. You know, Malfoy is too arrogant."
"Okay, I'm going to eat first." Wayne nodded nonchalantly, said hello, and left.
Wayne didn't care about these trivial matters. If Harry had taken the initiative to say something, Wayne might have mentioned that Malfoy could be up to no good and suggested they be careful if they planned to go. But since Harry stayed silent, they were on their own.
The auditorium was very lively. Tomorrow was the first open day of Hogwarts this semester. Young wizards in third grade and above could go to Hogsmeade for a day. It is the only village in the UK composed entirely of wizards. Though it is not as busy as Diagon Alley, it has its unique charm.
Many young wizards visited the Three Broomsticks, where the proprietress served butterbeer, which they could enjoy all day long.
"Wayne, you're here. Do you need me to bring you anything tomorrow?" Cedric asked as Wayne arrived to eat.
"Buy me some ink and products from Zuko's Joke Shop," Wayne whispered. The props from Zuko's Joke Shop were all on Filch's restricted list, so Wayne didn't want to publicize his request.
Cedric understood and also lowered his voice: "What do you need? Make me a list."
"No need, just buy two of the same."
"So many?" Cedric asked, surprised. "Are you trying to prank Filch?"
"I need them for research. Do you think I'm Fred or George?" Wayne rolled his eyes, tapped his wand on the table, and whispered, "I need a cup of black tea."
With a whoosh, a steaming cup of black tea appeared in front of him.
The products from Zuko's Joke Shop included both magical potions and alchemy props, which Wayne could learn a lot from.
"I'll try my best," Cedric said, rubbing his hands. He was nervous about being noticed while buying so many items.
"How's your spell learning going?" Wayne asked.
"It's nearly done. I've got the basics down," Cedric replied.
"I'll teach you how to make maps this Sunday," Wayne offered.
"OK."
While eating and chatting with Cedric, Wayne noticed Hermione sitting at the long Gryffindor table with a pile of books. After eating, Wayne went over to her.
"I'm going to Hagrid's for afternoon tea tomorrow. Do you want to come?" he asked.
Hermione tilted her head and thought about it. She could finish her homework in the morning. She had planned to go to the library with Wayne in the afternoon, so having tea at Hagrid's wasn't a problem.
The young witch nodded, "Okay, what time should we go?"
"Let's go at two o'clock. You do your homework in the morning and I'll go over after copying it at noon," Wayne said.
Hermione slapped him playfully, "I won't lend it to you. I will do my own homework."
"Oh, you should learn the armor spell yourself," Wayne replied nonchalantly.
"How can you go back on your word? Didn't we agree yesterday?" Hermione exclaimed, anxious. After several days of persistent asking, she had finally gotten some useful information from Wayne. Now he wanted to back out?
Seeing her anxious expression, Wayne teased her with a wicked smile, "I changed my mind. Can't I?"
"No!" Hermione retorted.
"I won't teach anymore unless you give me the homework to copy," Wayne insisted, acting like a rogue.
Hermione gritted her teeth in anger, but there was nothing she could do. She finally gave in reluctantly. If it had been anyone else, Hermione would never hand over her homework even if it meant not learning new spells.
Satisfied, Wayne left the Gryffindor table under Hermione's pushing and headed to Ravenclaw next door. Since he had called Hermione, he couldn't leave out Cho.
Unfortunately, Cho had Quidditch practice in the afternoon.
"Tomorrow is Hogsmeade day. Why are you still training?" Wayne asked, surprised.
"The captain said it's enough for us to play for one morning and come back for training in the afternoon," Cho explained.
"Then go ahead," Wayne said sympathetically, feeling grateful he wasn't in the Quidditch team. He was too busy breaking school rules to have time for training.
"If there's anything delicious, save some for me," Cho pleaded.
Wayne smiled and nodded but cursed internally. If Hagrid had something delicious to eat, he would rip off Quirrell's head and use it as a chamber pot for the troll.
"Ah-choo!" Quirrell, who was eating at the guest table, sneezed and smiled sheepishly at Professor Sprout next to him.
Professor Flitwick said with concern, "Professor Quirrell, the weather has gotten colder recently. Please take care of yourself."
Quirrell responded timidly, causing Flitwick to sigh internally. Quirrell hadn't always been like this. He had once been a confident and outstanding graduate when he first came to Hogwarts as a professor. But since teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, he seemed like a different person, stumbling over his words and lacking courage.
Meanwhile, in the Slytherin dormitory, Malfoy was with his two lackeys.
"Draco, are you really going to duel with Potter tonight?" Goyle asked.
Malfoy replied fiercely, "Just wait and see if I don't teach him a lesson!"
Crabbe, confused, asked, "But didn't you say you were going to report to Filch to deduct points from Gryffindor?"
"You're stupid!" Malfoy smacked Crabbe on the head. "Gryffindor only has a dozen points left. What good would deducting a few more do?"
"Besides," Malfoy continued, raising his chin, "I am the heir of the Malfoy family. Since I proposed a duel, it's unbecoming if I don't go. That is not how an aristocrat behaves!"
"How can a boy who grew up in a Muggle family be my opponent?" He talked a lot, but his friends didn't understand. They just asked who he planned to take as his assistant. Malfoy chose the stronger Crabbe to back him up, to avoid losing in close combat.
Wayne didn't know that Malfoy had also changed because of his deception. Though Malfoy still had a traitorous temperament, he now acted differently regarding family honor. The original idea of tricking Harry vanished; this time, the two wanted an actual fight.
But even if Wayne had known, it would have just been for fun. After chatting with Cho for a bit, Wayne saw Cho's friend looking for her, said hello, and returned to the common room.
Toby and Norman were playing wizard chess, and the dormitory was empty. Wayne went to the bathroom, took a shower, and washed his face three times until it was no longer pale. Then, he clicked on the lottery page of the system.
"System, lottery, let's try our luck with ten draws in a row."