The judges were deeply conflicted.
Had the potion succeeded? Technically, yes.
It took effect rapidly, indicating high completion.
But with reactions ranging from weeping laughter to instant unconsciousness, how should it be graded?
Ultimately, the judges settled on a mediocre score, sternly warning Koldovstoretz that any future use of vodka in their chosen potions would result in an automatic zero.
Their professor grumbled curses but had no choice.
After carting off the three drunken test subjects along with three equally inebriated Koldovstoretz students, the final scores were announced.
Out of a possible thirty points, Wayne received a perfect score while the next highest—Cassandra's—was only twenty-one. Most people scored around sixteen or seventeen points.
Don't think this is a low score—it was based on the standards of The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Judging students' work through the critical lens of a Potions Master naturally made the grading stricter.
Only Wayne's potion was flawless, to the point where giving him full marks almost felt like an understatement.
"Very impressive," Damocles praised.
But not Wayne—his compliment was directed at Cassandra.
"Keep it up, and you might have a chance to join The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers."
"Thank you for your kind words. I'll do my best," Cassandra replied politely, suppressing a smile.
"Keep at it," Wayne also encouraged. "In a few decades, you might catch up to me."
Cassandra: "..."
"Hard to imagine how Hufflepuff produced someone like you," Damocles chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, since I'm here, I've got a few ideas. Help me brainstorm."
"Wait a moment, Madame Maxime hasn't announced the rules for the optional potion competition yet."
"Ah, right." Damocles patted his forehead.
But Maxime didn't keep him waiting long. She soon revealed the rules for the final competition.
Each student would have their own private potion-brewing classroom. No one else would be allowed inside, and the doors would be warded with alert charms.
They would have ten days to complete their potion—whatever they chose to brew—before a final unified grading.
Truthfully, none of the competitors held any hope of taking first place anymore. With a monster like Wayne in the mix, second place might as well be first.
Once the rules were clear, Damocles dragged Wayne away.
"I saw the materials list you submitted. What are you planning to brew?"
"A new potion. I just figured it out recently."
"A new potion?" Damocles grew even more intrigued. "An improved version, or something entirely original?"
"Entirely original." Wayne smiled. "Don't ask—let me keep it a surprise. You'll find out soon enough."
Damocles was itching to know, but Wayne remained tight-lipped, leaving the old man huffing in frustration.
...
The next day, Wayne and the other competitors received the keys to their respective brewing rooms, along with the materials they had requested earlier.
Sakura was called out by her supervising professor and returned shortly after, her face clouded with worry.
"What's wrong?" Wayne asked her.
"One of the ingredients I needed is missing. The professor told me to switch to a different potion," Sakura said dejectedly.
"Which ingredient?" Cassandra overheard and chimed in. "Surely Beauxbatons wouldn't make such a basic mistake? Hosting a competition without even preparing the necessary ingredients."
She didn't lower her voice, drawing sharp glances from the three Beauxbatons competitors. Upon noticing Wayne, Samuel quickly averted his gaze.
"No, it's not like that," Sakura hurriedly explained, not wanting Cassandra to misunderstand. "Fox-tail grass is special—it's a native ingredient from Japan. It's understandable if they couldn't find it."
"It's my fault. I didn't consider that when choosing my potion. Now I'll have to pick something else."
The girl was deeply troubled. She had chosen an advanced potion she was most skilled at brewing. Switching now left her with no better alternatives at short notice.
"Fox-tail grass, is that the kind that grows near phantom fox dens?" Wayne asked.
"Right." Sakura nodded.
Phantom foxes were indeed a speciality of Japan, classified as a XXX-class magical creature. They lived year-round on snowy mountains, their pure white fur making them utterly adorable. Possessing abilities similar to the Disillusionment Charm, they could blend seamlessly into their surroundings, making them exceptionally difficult to capture.
Moreover, because of their extreme cuteness, they were a top choice for many wizards seeking pets. At one point, phantom foxes had been hunted extensively by poachers, leaving their numbers scarce nowadays.
"Alright then, follow me." Wayne thought for a moment before leading the two confused girls to a neighbouring room.
"Nabby."
Wayne called softly.
One second, two seconds, three seconds...
Pop!
With a sharp crack, a house-elf Apparated in front of Wayne, bowing deeply.
"Young Master Lawrence, how may I serve you?"
"Nabby, does Nicolas have any Fox-tail grass in stock?" Wayne asked.
Nabby thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Apologies, Young Master Lawrence, Master's ingredient stores do not contain Fox-tail grass."
"Who is Nicolas?" Cassandra whispered.
"Nicolas Flamel. Nabby is his house-elf."
At Wayne's words, both Cassandra and Sakura gaped at him. "The Nicolas Flamel who created the Philosopher's Stone?"
"Mhm."
Wayne nodded. "But if even Nicolas doesn't have any..."
Sakura smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Wayne. If it's not available, I'll just switch to a different potion."
"Wait, there's one more place I haven't asked." Wayne suddenly remembered something and relayed an address to Nabby.
"Make sure to tell Cross I sent you. Otherwise, I doubt he'll take it seriously."
"Understood, Young Master Lawrence. Please wait a moment." Nabby memorised Wayne's instructions before Apparating away.
"And who is Cross? Is he even more impressive than Nicolas Flamel?" Cassandra eyed Wayne curiously, wondering how he knew so many prominent figures.
"An eccentric old man—definitely not as impressive as Nicolas. But he has wide connections and can get his hands on many... prohibited items. Let's just see if we get lucky."
"Mhm." Sakura blinked gratefully.
After lunch, just as Wayne was about to head to class, Nabby returned with good news.
Cross Rosier didn't have Fox-tail grass either, but he knew someone who did and guaranteed it would arrive by the next morning.
Sakura finally exhaled in relief and relayed the news to her supervising professor.
Sure enough, early the next morning, an owl dropped a package at Wayne's feet. Inside the wooden box were ten stalks of Fox-tail grass, along with a note.
[Kid, it's on the house. Next time you're in Paris, fight me again.]
'Does this old man have some kind of masochistic streak?'
Wayne couldn't help but mutter to himself, baffled by Rosier's peculiar hobby.
Sakura happily took the ingredients to her potion lab, while the other competitors had already begun their work the previous day.
Only Wayne had been dragging his feet, utterly unconcerned.
The ten-day allowance was meant for potions requiring extended brewing periods. His concoction would only take half a day.
Meanwhile, Damocles, still at the school, kept pestering Wayne daily—he was dying to see what new potion Wayne had devised.
"Could you give me two days off?" Wayne looked at the stubborn old man blocking him and Fleur, sighing helplessly. "It's Saturday today."
"Precisely because it's Saturday and there are no classes, you should dedicate all your time to potion-making."
"I'm adjusting my state through dating," Wayne said with a straight face, spouting nonsense. "Only when both body and mind are at ease can one brew this kind of potion."
Fleur's eyelid twitched at the boy's outrageous claim, yet Damocles actually believed it, his face lighting up with sudden understanding: "So that's how it is?"
"In that case, have fun and go quickly."
Watching Damocles' retreating figure, Fleur was stunned. "Mr Damocles actually bought that?"
"Because potion-brewing conditions are inherently bizarre," Wayne shrugged.
Take Felix Felicis, for example—it requires toad bile added precisely at midnight on nights exactly thirty days apart. The Polyjuice Potion also has specific timing requirements, and the potion for Animagus transformation must be brewed during overcast or rainy weather.
Though Wayne's claim was far-fetched, it wasn't entirely impossible.
"Let's hurry. We're almost late for our appointment with Madame Maxime."
...
In principle, students weren't allowed to leave school without reason during term time.
But after just one conversation with Maxime, she permitted the two to use the fireplace in the Headmaster's Office to return to Paris for the weekend.
Upon arriving in Paris, Wayne first visited a hidden black market location, where he gave Cross a thorough beating—fulfilling the man's wish—before returning home with Fleur.
Upon seeing the two suddenly appear, Gabrielle was overjoyed, bouncing excitedly around Wayne.
Madame Delacour prepared a lavish dinner and even insisted that Wayne stay the night.
However, he had to return to Nicolas's home that evening, so he politely declined.
"I'll come pick you up tomorrow morning," Wayne said, waving at Fleur before preparing to Apparate.
Just then, the communication book flew out of his pocket, glowing brightly.
Wayne's expression changed as he saw the third page illuminated. He quickly opened it.
Penelope stood in a corner, her expression grave and serious.
"What's wrong, senior?"
"Something's happened at school," Penelope whispered, distant sounds of arguments and sobbing audible in the background.
"Mrs Norris has been petrified, and there's writing on the wall."
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened... Enemies of the Heir, beware."
Penelope had remembered Wayne's instructions and contacted him immediately when trouble arose.
"Was anyone else hurt?" Wayne pressed.
"No, but Filch suspects Harry and Malfoy—they were the first on the scene."
"Understood." Wayne's voice steadied. "I'll be back in a week. Don't worry, with Ho-Oh there, no one can harm you."
"Mm." Penelope nodded. Hearing footsteps approach, she barely managed a quick goodbye before closing the book.
"Everything alright?" Fleur asked, watching Wayne with concern.
"Nothing major," Wayne shook his head. "Just Hogwarts' usual traditions—something chaotic happens every year."
Fleur stiffened slightly.
What kind of tradition was that?
Recalling the curse Wayne had mentioned, she ventured, "Could it be the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?"
"I can't say for sure."
Though he was 70% certain it was Lockhart, he couldn't voice it.
"Let's talk later. Maybe by the time I return, the crisis will be resolved."
"Mm." Fleur nodded, then asked pointedly, "So... who was that 'senior' just now? She looked quite pretty."
Wayne: "..."
Danger!
...
On Monday, after returning to school, Wayne spotted Snape in the Great Hall.
Snape noticed him too and immediately beckoned, leading Wayne outside.
"There's been an attack at the school. Filch's cat was petrified."
"I know. Someone told me," Wayne said quietly.
After returning home, Hermione, Cho, and even the wealthy little Astoria had all called. It had taken considerable effort to reassure them.
"Professor Sprout asked me to check if you have any mature Mandrakes left," Snape said.
"I gave her a mature one last year, didn't I?"
"It was destroyed," Snape said darkly. "Clearly, this was premeditated."
Wayne froze, surprised by this turn.
Since when had Tom gotten smarter?
In the original story, the greenhouses had been full of Mandrakes, yet none were sabotaged.
"I don't have any spares either."
"Then we'll have to wait for the school's own to mature." A flicker of impatience crossed Snape's eyes. He longed to return to Hogwarts immediately, but that was impossible—the tournament still had a week left.
"Professor, there's no need to worry," Wayne reassured. "With Professor Dumbledore here, there won't be any danger."
Snape sneered. "Dumbledore? If he's truly so capable, why do these wretched incidents keep happening repeatedly?"
"Don't inform Henderson and Russel yet, lest it affects their performance," Snape instructed before sweeping out with a flick of his robes.
...
Over the following days, Wayne maintained daily communication with the girls, staying updated through Penelope about the latest developments.
Currently, young witches and wizards in the castle were required to move in groups of five or more, avoiding unnecessary trips outside the Common Room. Hogwarts was thick with tension as professors took turns patrolling every night.
On the final day of the stipulated period, Wayne finally entered his private potions laboratory.
After half a day's work, he completed the potion and handed it to Madame Maxime.
Damocles eagerly reached to examine it, but Wayne stopped him.
"Score the others first. After seeing my potion, you'll lose all interest in evaluating anyone else."
Though spoken calmly, his words brimmed with unshakable confidence.
Arrogant!
Utterly arrogant!
Yet none of the other competitors present could muster a rebuttal.
Even before Wayne's arrival, the three judges hadn't glanced at their potions, too engrossed in discussing what masterpiece Wayne might present.
"You certainly know how to keep us in suspense," Damocles grumbled, but complied with Wayne's suggestion.
"Elixir of Eternity? Moderate difficulty, average quality—fifteen points."
"Universal Antidote—decent, high completion rate, but somewhat simplistic. Fifteen points."
"Amortentia? Wait... this colour... Is this Heart's Desire?"
Damocles admired the liquid with its jellyfish-like iridescence. Uncorking it released spiralling steam in an utterly fantastical display.
The room filled with fragrance—yet each person perceived a different scent.
Snape caught the earthy aroma of soil, Sakura detected cherry blossoms, while Wayne smelled the sea.
Heart's Desire was essentially Amortentia—the most potent love potion known to date.
The varying scents weren't actual odours but hallucinations induced by the potion.
Only those utterly free of desire could perceive its true fragrance.
"Remarkable. Heart's Desire isn't something students typically encounter," Damocles nodded approvingly, awarding Cassandra twenty-four points.
The girl shot Wayne a triumphant look, raising an eyebrow with unspoken meaning.
Subsequent competitors failed to breach the twenty-point mark until Russel and Henderson's Softening Solution earned twenty-one.
Next came Sakura's turn.
Damocles studied her submission with deepening frown lines—this potion was entirely unfamiliar.
Even for a Potions Master, knowing every concoction was impossible. Just as he prepared to inquire, another master spoke.
"Is this... Eyes of Clarity?"
"Yes," Sakura stood. "This is Eyes of Clarity Potion."