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Half an hour later, Wayne walked out of the Charms classroom feeling slightly tired. Professor Flitwick was asking too much. It seemed as if he was competing with Professor McGonagall; the spells Flitwick asked him to use and the proficiency required were ridiculously high. Wayne still felt a bit dissatisfied.
"Lawrence, your talent has been wasted too much. Why haven't you learned the Vajra Blocking Curse? You are exempt from homework, but you must master this spell before Halloween."
Wayne almost vomited blood. This spell was for sixth and seventh graders, and it was extremely difficult. Isn't it normal that he hadn't learned it? But to avoid more homework, Wayne agreed.
The same scene happened again in the herbology class. Professor Sprout was very pleased that he could remember so many herbs and their habits. However, she did not waive the homework. Because there were very few homework assignments in herbology, it mostly involved practical exercises in class rather than writing papers.
When Hermione learned about Wayne's experience, she felt envious and lonely at the same time. Seeing the determined look in the young witch's eyes, Wayne understood. Hermione was going to study even harder.
As night fell, the Hufflepuff Lounge was as lively as usual. Everyone enthusiastically shared each other's homework and helped each other fool the teacher. When Wayne appeared, there was a brief silence in the lounge. The other students all watched him walk out of the barrel door with the eyes of a warrior. Everyone knew that Wayne was going to Snape's place for extra lessons, and this would last until just before Christmas. They all respected him for his "brave" behavior.
Just attending Potions class was torture enough: the gloomy environment, Snape's sharp tongue, and the bad-smelling potions. Combined with these factors, Potions class had become one of the most hated classes for young wizards. And Wayne actually chose to take extra lessons on top of it all, which made many people worry about his mental state.
Boom! Boom! Boom! In the office, Snape, who was reading a newspaper, heard a knock on the door but didn't even look up. "Enter!"
The door to the room was pushed open, and Wayne walked in, sitting on the only empty chair. Seeing Snape reading the newspaper, he didn't say anything. He just sat there and looked at the furnishings in the room. Snape's office was very large, not much smaller than the Potions classroom. But there wasn't much space for activities because it was full of windows and cabinets. Various bottles and jars filled the room, containing everything from strange liquids to eyeballs. The broken arm soaked in solution looked particularly eerie.
But to Wayne, this was all money! Lacewings, six for two galleons. Pufferfish eyes, four galleons each. African tree snake skin, thirty galleons for a small section. The horn of a horned beast, one hundred and fifty galleons.
Really, no Potions Master is poor, Wayne thought. He had the same idea he'd had in the principal's office: to steal everything. It was said that Snape also had a special storage room filled with various materials. There might be even better things there. If he could rob that place, he probably wouldn't need materials for years.
"If I lose something, I will be the first to find you. Lawrence, put away those greedy eyes. You are here to take classes, not to purchase goods."
Snape's cold voice came, and at some point, he had put away the newspaper and was standing next to Wayne silently.
"Professor, you misunderstood me," Wayne said calmly. "I am Hufflepuff; why would I come to steal your things? But do you sell the African tree snake skin? I've written to Diagon Alley several times, but they never have it in stock."
Snape sighed, then returned to normal. "Want it? Give me Phoenix Tears in exchange."
"Forget it," Wayne shook his head. "The Phoenix is my best partner and my first pet. How can African tree snake skin compare to her tears? You'll have to pay more!"
Snape was almost knocked over by this unexpected demand. After a moment of surprise, he asked, "Lawrence, name your price."
For many wizards, galleons are a necessity second only to their wand, but for the truly powerful, galleons are just a number. Those precious treasures cannot be bought with galleons, like the Three Deathly Hallows, the Philosopher's Stone, and the Pensieve.
Another example is the Phoenix King's tears in Wayne's hand. Perhaps to Snape, even the three sacred artifacts were not as valuable as those tears.
"It's too vulgar to talk about money," Wayne shook his head. "You are my professor; how can I accept money from you? I don't want more. I'll split the potion refined with Phoenix tears into 30-70."
"Thirty percent?" Snape frowned. "No, that's too much. I'll give you 20% at most."
"Professor," Wayne kindly reminded, "Seventy percent is mine."
Snape's face turned green with anger. I'll take 30%? That would be like begging for scraps!
"Don't waste time," Snape abruptly changed the subject to avoid the urge to curse Wayne. "Let me first test the potion-making level of Hufflepuff's little genius."
Several other professors had taken turns testing Wayne, and of course Snape knew about it. However, Snape didn't show much shock. After all, who isn't a genius nowadays? He himself had created many spell innovations while in school, including some invisible dark magic.
Wayne faced Snape's questions without any hesitation. In terms of pure theoretical knowledge, Wayne had a memory palace and knew the properties of countless materials. He also memorized various potion-brewing techniques by heart. After more than ten minutes of questions, Snape gave his evaluation.
"You can only study hard but lack your own thinking. The contents in the textbooks are all old-fashioned. If you believe them all, your achievements in this life will be limited."
Faced with Snape's criticism, Wayne secretly raised his middle finger. Sooner or later, he would get back at Snape.
Snape summoned a blackboard, showing the detailed process of making a potion. "You can take the materials yourself, but only one portion. In two hours, I want to see the complete potion. If it can't be finished..."
Snape sneered and went back to his magazine without finishing his sentence.
Wayne sighed after reading the content on the blackboard. The hate potion is a magic potion that brings out the worst in the person who takes it. It is the opposite of the love potion. He had seen this potion in "Advanced Potion Making." According to the classification, it was something that only sixth or seventh-year students should learn. The brewing process was very complicated. It not only required precise material handling but also the right use of magic while stirring.
"Did Snape deliberately choose a difficult potion to defeat me?" Wayne thought.
Resisting the urge to take out his wand and exchange spells with Snape, Wayne went to get the materials. Salamander blood, griffon powder, dragon liver, and nettles. Following the instructions, Wayne began to process the materials step by step. To avoid mistakes, he even turned his wand into a ruler, accurate to the millimeter. This effort made Snape take notice.
In Snape's mind, potions should be a discipline that is both rigorous and creative. The prerequisite for being creative is to start having your own ideas after thoroughly learning from those more capable.
Wayne was often at odds with himself, but he knew what was best for him. This understanding was far better than anything Poto could offer. Isn't this what being a true Slytherin is about? Obey the strong, desire strength, and become stronger. Snape's heart ached when he thought of the pure-blooded wizards in his academy who thought highly of themselves but lacked real ability.
"The liquid will turn light blue, and you can only add the dragon liver after the bubbles disappear," Snape reminded them. Hearing this, Wayne immediately stopped, waited until the last bubble vanished, and then decisively added the dragon liver to boil it, not fry it.
After two hours, the potion of hatred reached its final stage. Thanks to Snape's reminders and corrections, everything had gone smoothly so far. Now, the final step involved mixing in the right amount of magic. This step was the most difficult since the amount of magic and the speed of stirring with the wand were based on experience. Wayne had to control it carefully and rely on his intuition.
Boom! A line of red smoke exploded and quickly spread, filling the entire office. Snape frowned and waved his wand, saying, "Whirlwind sweeps away!" The breeze dispersed the smoke, and Wayne stopped moving. The potion of hatred looked dark red like blood, which was not a good sign. Snape checked it and even put his wand in, saying dissatisfiedly, "Failed! You followed the steps correctly, but why add so much magic at the end? It's barely qualified."
In Snape's eyes, a potion that wasn't perfect had no value. He disposed of the potion in the crucible like garbage. Wayne spread his hands, saying, "Professor, maybe what you think is a small amount of magic is too much for me. If I could try again, I would do better."
Snape, angry and chest heaving, said through gritted teeth, "Class is over!"
Wayne, kicked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor. Instead of going back to the lounge, he headed to the library on the second floor. Snape had mentioned several books and potions for the next class, and Wayne remembered some of them were in the restricted section of the library. He marveled at how Dumbledore put books that could be bought outside into the restricted area.
At the door of the library, he paused, noticing someone inside. He had wandered many nights and met many students in different places, but this was the first time he encountered someone in the library at night. Casting a silencing charm on the door, Wayne entered to see who was eager to learn.
"Fred, George?" he exclaimed in surprise when he saw the twins sneaking around. Startled, they almost ran away until they recognized Wayne's voice. "Wayne?" asked Fred tentatively.
"It's me," Wayne replied, lifting the disillusionment spell. George, clutching his chest, said, "Next time, lift the spell before speaking. You almost gave me a heart attack. Wait, you even mastered the Illusion Curse?!"
"Is it difficult?" Wayne asked, tilting his head. The twins fell silent, knowing Wayne wouldn't understand their struggle. They had tried learning the Disguise Charm in second grade but gave up after two months.
"Why are you two out in the library at night?" Wayne questioned. "We came for the cursed books in the restricted area," Fred sighed, taking out a bulging money bag. "This is the profit from selling the quills. We took 30 galleons, and there are 270 galleons left. We don't dare keep so much in our dorm."
"You sold them so fast?" Wayne asked, surprised. "It's only been two days, and you sold all 150?"
George smiled proudly. "We are the Weasley twins. It's what we do. Even Percy bought two copying quills."
"Percy has that much pocket money?" Wayne asked.
"He gets a lot for being a model student and first in grade," said Fred. "But his face was as black as a troll after he bought them."
Wayne laughed at their storytelling. Pointing out a few helpful books, he also went to find what he needed. Late at night, the twins left the library, and an hour later, Wayne did too, having copied the contents of several books onto parchment with a copying quill.
Returning to the dormitory, he found his roommates asleep. He used a silencing spell to block Toby's snoring and then lay down. With more than 2,000 points, he decided not to wait any longer and started the process.
The first round of ten yielded only one purple card, but it was a valuable alchemy experience book. After using it, a flood of alchemical experiments filled Wayne's mind, solving many of his problems.
The second round was even luckier, with two purple cards. The first was an advanced magic spell, "Curse will stop immediately," and the second was a skill for this other world.