Half an hour later, Wayne walked out of the Charms classroom, feeling slightly frustrated. Professor Flitwick had too many demands. It was as if he were trying to compete with Professor McGonagall; the spells he required Wayne to use and the proficiency expected were excessively high. In the end, he still seemed somewhat dissatisfied.
"Lawrence, your talent is being wasted! Why haven't you learned the Body-Binding Curse?"
"You're excused from homework, but before Halloween, Wayne was nearly at his breaking point. This spell is material for sixth or seventh year students, and it's quite specialized. Isn't it normal that I haven't learned it?"
However, in order to avoid another assignment, Wayne reluctantly agreed.
This scene replayed itself again during Herbology class, where Professor Sprout expressed satisfaction with how much Wayne remembered about various plants and their properties. But there was no homework exemption because the Herbology assignments were already minimal; simply writing papers was not very helpful, and most of it was practical work in class.
When Hermione heard about Wayne's experiences that day, she felt both envy and a hint of loneliness. Seeing the determined light in the young witch's eyes, Wayne understood: Hermione was going to push herself even harder.
As night fell, the Hufflepuff common room was bustling as usual. Everyone excitedly shared their assignments, contributing to the collective effort of muddling through professors' expectations.
When Wayne walked in, the room fell momentarily silent. The badgers watched him leave the barrel door with the eyes of warriors. Everyone was aware that Wayne was off to catch up with Snape for extra lessons, and he had been so "brave" about it that they all expressed their respect.
Just attending Potions class was already torturous enough—with the gloomy environment, Snape's sharp tongue, and the horridly smelling concoctions. All these factors combined made Potions the most disliked class among the young witches and wizards, no contest. And that Wayne was actually rushing to attend "double sessions" drew a lot of second glances from his peers.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
In his office, Snape, engrossed in reading a newspaper, did not even lift his eyelids at the sound of knocking. "Enter!"
The door creaked open, and Wayne stepped inside, feeling familiar with the space. Seeing Snape reading the paper, he chose not to say anything and simply sat down, taking in the room's decor.
Snape's office was quite spacious, not much smaller than the Potions classroom itself. However, there wasn't much space to move around as it was filled with all manner of cabinets and display cases. Various jars and bottles lined the shelves, containing everything from bizarre substances to even a few eyeballs and severed hands floating in solutions—sights that were particularly eerie.
But to Wayne, every item was value!
"Ladybird larvae, six Galleons per ounce. Pufferfish eyes, four Galleons each. African tree snake skin, one small piece for thirty Galleons. Horn of a bicorn creature, one hundred fifty Galleons each—priceless in some markets."
Once again, Wayne mused that no potion master was ever poor; it was a thought akin to the one he had in the headmaster's office.