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Back in the common room, Wayne noticed something was wrong. Many people were sitting in the room, but the atmosphere was extremely quiet, and everyone was deep in thought.
"What's going on here?" Wayne asked curiously as he sat in the empty chair next to Cedric.
Cedric looked troubled. "Your two roommates are too smart and asked two questions no one could answer. Everyone is thinking."
Wayne looked skeptical. His two roommates were usually as silly as each other, and Toby was praised by Snape as being on the same level as Neville with his idiocy.
"Toby, what on earth did you two ask?"
"Oh, Wayne," Toby looked up at him and asked very seriously, "Do you think laxatives are still useful if they expire?"
Norman chimed in, "And drinking while riding a broomstick, does that count as drunk driving?"
Wayne thought, You two should be transferred to the hospital. Hufflepuff can't handle you. Go and bother Ravenclaw.
A new week began. Harry walked into the Great Hall with Ronald, looking depressed. They had not fully recovered from their injuries. Their eyes were black and blue, and they had several big bumps on their heads. When other students asked, they said they had fallen down the stairs. But no one believed anyone could get black eyes from falling down the stairs.
As fate would have it, Malfoy, who was eating, also looked up when Harry passed by, and their eyes met.
"Snort!"
Harry and Malfoy snorted at the same time. Malfoy didn't look good either. His neat blond hair looked like it had been chewed off, and the bruises on the corners of his mouth were very obvious. Malfoy grinned fiercely, ready to taunt Harry, but Harry laughed first.
"Hahaha, Malfoy, why is one of your teeth missing?"
Ronald also laughed, and the two of them laughed at Malfoy without restraint. The blond boy's expression changed visibly.
"Potter, do you want to fight again?" Malfoy gritted his teeth. When he went back that night, he found that one of his teeth had been knocked out. It turned out that it was Crabbe who had accidentally injured him. He was so angry he almost vomited blood.
Now, Harry hurt his pride again. If there weren't too many younger students around, he would have wanted to rush up and punch Harry, knocking out one of his teeth.
Harry retorted, "I don't want to knock out all your teeth and leave you without food." Of course, he wouldn't agree. If Wayne hadn't shown up that Friday night, he and Ronald would have been in big trouble. The best outcome was to be caught by Filch, and the worst might have been being used as food for the three-headed dog.
"Coward," Malfoy snorted and turned his head back to eat, ignoring them.
Harry still wanted to taunt Malfoy, but he heard a familiar annoying voice behind him.
"Potter, don't Gryffindors have a place to eat on their own?"
"No, Professor," Harry forced himself to calm down and turned around. "I was just saying hello to my classmates."
After Snape saw the injury on Harry's face, his eyes narrowed. He was silent for two seconds before saying, "For deceiving the professor, Gryffindor will lose five points."
"Potter, you'd better pray that I don't catch you next time. Otherwise, you will go back to Privet Drive," With that, Snape moved away like a giant bat in the daytime.
Harry looked at Snape with disgust. "Sometimes I really feel like I stole his girlfriend and made him hate me so much."
"You two are more than 20 years apart," Ronald said. "Your dad just stole his girlfriend."
"Okay, let's go eat," Harry nodded. He and Ronald were about to return to the long Gryffindor table when Harry saw Wayne approaching the staff table and talking to Snape.
"Professor, here are the materials you asked for," Wayne handed over a paper bag with a pained expression. He had gone through much trouble to collect two small bottles of Phoenix King's tears. If Snape didn't appreciate his efforts, Wayne promised to give him a potion containing Umbridge's hair!
Before Wayne could react, Snape had already put the bag away and even smiled a bit. He had used the materials over the weekend, and the effect was surprisingly good. Especially the rebirth potion. With the tears of the phoenix, it had produced changes he couldn't understand.
After much research, Snape realized that Wayne's phoenix, unlike Fox, had tears that contained great vitality. Even those who were not injured could increase their lifespan and possibly return to youth.
What did this mean? It was like a high-end version of the Philosopher's Stone! The stone could grant immortality but couldn't prevent aging. But with the tears of the phoenix, one could live forever and maintain their body at its peak.
Snape didn't dare to use the tears recklessly. He felt that none of the potion formulas he knew were worthy of these valuable tears.
"Come to my office tomorrow night," Snape said softly, and Wayne gave him a look of displeasure. However, the eyes of the staff table were focused on them, especially seeing Snape smile. Even Professor McGonagall found it incredible.
"Wayne, what were you talking about with Professor Snape?" As the head of Hufflepuff, Sprout was the most qualified to ask, and she had no intention of hiding it.
"Um, I think my potions skills are weak, so I asked Professor Snape for some extra lessons," Wayne said sheepishly. "I just gave the professor some materials for class," he added, taking out a jar of Phoenix King's excrement to make fertilizer for Sprout and giving feathers to Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall.
Professor Sprout laughed, knowing how fertile Phoenix's feces were. Immediately, she looked at Wayne more kindly. "If you need any plants in the future, just come to me."
A young wizard who is talented, studious, and well-behaved is rare. There was Cedric in the third grade, and now there was Wayne in the first grade. Sprout felt like a new era for Hufflepuff was coming.
After receiving the gifts, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick smiled and told Wayne he could come to them if he had any problems in his studies.
"Mr. Lawrence..." Dumbledore finally spoke up and sighed with frustration. "You will never forget this old man, will you?"
Wayne was startled. "Professor, don't you already have Fox? Do you still need these materials?"
"Of course," Dumbledore blinked. "Every phoenix is unique, and yours is the 'Phoenix King,' correct?"
Recently, Feng Wang and Fox often visited Dumbledore to eat and drink. Even Snape noticed something unusual. It's a pity Dumbledore is not an expert on magical animals. He could sense the power and difference of King Ho magically but couldn't get more information. However, it didn't matter. He had written to an old friend and asked for expert advice.
With Dumbledore openly requesting a bribe, Wayne found it hard to refuse. He took out another feather and handed it to Dumbledore. The old man rubbed it carefully, felt the warmth in his hands, and put it away with a smile. He planned to send it to his old friend later.
Feeling eyes on him, Wayne turned his head and raised a playful smile.
"Why, do you want some materials too?"
Quirrell waved his hands in panic. "No, no, I... I'm just curious. Can you let me see your phoenix?"
"Of course..." Under Quirrell's expectant gaze, Wayne made a sharp turn. "No. Professor, if you teach us some useful spells next class, I'll call King Feng back. What do you think?"
Except for McGonagall, who frowned slightly, none of the other teachers reacted to Wayne teasing a professor so boldly. Quirrell did such a bad job that all the students had many complaints against him. The other teachers were also disgusted with him, especially because he smelled unpleasant.
Faced with Wayne's demand, Quirrell stammered, "I'll do my best," but didn't give any assurance.
Dumbledore tilted his head slightly, and no one could see his eyes clearly from his reflective glasses.
After breakfast, Quirrell didn't have classes in the morning and went directly back to his office on the fourth floor. Few students greeted him along the way; most looked at him with disdain and disgust. In response, Quirrell always lowered his head and made no reaction.
Quirrell closed the door, locked it, and took out his wand. He cast several trap and warning spells. Then he came to a floor-to-ceiling mirror and removed the turban that all the students were curious about. A face appeared on the back of his head—gray and ferocious, with an expression of pain.
This was Voldemort.
If Wayne were there, he would definitely sigh. Despite being ugly, at least Voldemort had a nose now.
"Master..." Quirrell knelt on the ground respectfully, allowing Voldemort's face to receive the sunlight.
"Idiot. You can't handle a first-year wizard. Why did I choose someone like you?"
Voldemort's curses were weak but still made Quirrell tremble with fear. "Master, if I show too much enthusiasm, Dumbledore will notice something is wrong with me."
"You think Dumbledore doesn't know you're mine?" Voldemort sneered.
Quirrell was shocked. "What? Then why didn't he..."
"Why didn't he expose you and get rid of you?" Voldemort's voice was filled with malice. "I know Dumbledore is aware of my existence. He sees you as a poor soul bewitched by me. This is a balance, a game between him and me. But he would never imagine that I would dare to come to Hogwarts myself."
Quirrell stopped trembling and flattered him, "No, master. I realized how hypocritical Dumbledore is only after following you."
"Then show your worth! I don't need useless people. I need the tears of a phoenix, especially Lawrence's phoenix!" Voldemort needed rare substances and evil rituals to regain some strength. Phoenix's tears and blood were among them.
Quirrell immediately expressed his loyalty. "Master, I will get the Phoenix Tears for you."
But he hesitated. "Master, Snape used to be your subordinate. Why not ask him for help?"
"Snape?" Voldemort's voice was faint. "He is much better and smarter than you. But because he is so good, I cannot appear before him now. Ten years have passed. I am no longer the Dark Lord I once was. Would someone like him still recognize me as his master?"
"If he betrays you..." Quirrell's eyes flashed with cruelty. "Then I will kill him!"
"It doesn't matter if you sacrifice your life. But if my existence is exposed, even ten thousand deaths wouldn't be enough!" Voldemort said coldly. "I'll give you a week. If you can't handle that little wizard, you know the consequences."
Voldemort closed his eyes to rest. His power was too weak, and every word he spoke was a drain on his life.
Quirrell gently put the scarf back on, his eyes flashing coldly.
Wayne Lawrence...
"Wayne, please stop bullying Professor Quirrell," Hermione warned in a low voice in the History of Magic class. "He is our teacher after all..."
Wayne yawned and asked, "Then, Miss Granger, what have you learned from him?"
After thinking for a long time, Hermione finally said, "To stay away from vampires?"
"Haha, you really know how to make me laugh," Wayne replied. "You might as well learn how to deal with vampires from me. There's no tuition fee; you only need to give me a half-hour massage."
"You're impossible." Hermione patted him lightly and didn't mention Quirrell again. She didn't like Quirrell either but respected him as a student respects a teacher. Secretly, Hermione had written several complaint letters to Dumbledore.
On the podium, Cuthbert Binns continued his monotonous lecture. Today, he was talking about wizards who helped various city-states conquer Persia during ancient Greek times. What should have been a magnificent epic was boring under his narration. Wayne's eyes were deep, thinking about Quirrell's earlier performance. It seemed he had other plans for King Feng.
What did Voldemort want?