"So, consider this revenge for you?"
He tilted his head back to look up—
Hmm, too big, can't see.
Wayne shifted position, navigating around the peaks to gaze up at Nagini's delicate face, grinning.
"Grindelwald bullied you back then. Revenge is a dish best served seventy years cold."
"If you're not satisfied, I'll hit him harder next time we meet."
"In a few years, when he's too old to move, you can take care of him yourself."
Wayne grew more excited as he spoke, already planning when to take Nagini for a triumphant confrontation.
"Young Master..." The serpentine woman gave him a reproachful look. "Must you bring up age?"
If the time spent as a snake were counted, she would now be an eighty-year-old grandmother. Wayne's words easily made her feel disheartened.
Even by purely human standards, she was much older than the boy before her.
Wayne said carelessly, "What's the big deal? If we both live to ten thousand years old, we'll practically be the same age."
Nagini burst out laughing. "No one can live to ten thousand."
Scree~!
Ho-Oh, cloaked in iridescent light, flew over and landed beside Wayne, tilting its head to look at the girl as if asking:
"What did you say? Care to repeat that while looking at me?"
Nagini was left speechless.
Aside from Wayne, she was the person in this world who understood Ho-Oh's miracles best.
Not only could it provide nearly limitless vitality, but it could also heal wounds of the soul.
With Ho-Oh around, perhaps living ten thousand years wasn't such an impossible dream after all.
...
After seeing Nagini off to bed, Wayne didn't leave immediately. Instead, he went to the potions laboratory to inspect the dozen or so cauldrons arranged inside.
"Gardevoir!"
Gardevoir's large eyes curved into crescents.
"You've done well. The quality of these potions is excellent." Wayne patted her head as a reward, making Gardevoir smile even brighter.
Wayne was pleased too.
Winning Gardevoir in the draw had been incredibly lucky.
Now, even if offered ten golden rewards in exchange for this all-rounder housekeeper and obedient little maid, he would disagree.
Gardevoir had helped him tremendously during this period.
Most components of the Fountain of Beauty placed in the school had been crafted by Gardevoir, as were these dozen cauldrons of Flying Potion.
In terms of potion-making and Alchemy skills, Wayne was better than Gardevoir, but only marginally.
The main issue was that he lacked the time and patience for such mechanically repetitive tasks.
So now, Wayne had Snape in his left hand and Gardevoir in his right.
For time-consuming potions requiring rare ingredients, he'd tempt Snape into brewing them with various incentives.
As for highly repetitive but large-quantity potions, those went to Gardevoir.
Her extraordinary mental powers allowed her to multitask flawlessly, greatly improving efficiency.
These dozen cauldrons of Flying Potion, for instance, were nearly complete in under three hours.
Even if he'd done it himself, he couldn't have brewed so many batches simultaneously.
The Flying Potion had been invented some time ago. Since returning from the competition, Wayne had wanted to market it and lighten the young wizards' purses.
But the Chamber of Secrets incident had tightened school security, leaving no good opportunity.
Gradually, Wayne had forgotten about it until seeing the twins being batted around after eating Puffapods yesterday, which reminded him to have Gardevoir quickly produce a batch of simplified versions.
After all, the original version was too expensive for most young wizards.
With the system nearing its next upgrade, more points were always welcome.
After several more hours of waiting and bottling the completed potions, Wayne finally left the suitcase.
...
The next day.
When Wayne entered the Great Hall, Fred and George were sitting at the Hufflepuff table, describing to the surrounding badgers what it felt like to be used as balls yesterday.
"It was like all our weight disappeared. George and I swelled up so much we couldn't even see our hands."
"Light as a feather, a gust of wind could blow us away. Good thing we're in the common room, or you'd have to search the whole world for us."
"And our skin feels so tight now – getting hit by a bat doesn't hurt at all. If it weren't for the dizziness, I'd actually want to get hit a few more times." George animatedly described, his face eventually twisting into an expression of regret.
"Piss off," Cedric laughed, his voice back to normal. "In your dreams. I've already given the remaining Puffapods to Wayne. No chance of you taking advantage."
The surrounding badgers burst into laughter.
This was precisely why the twins could pull pranks without earning anyone's resentment.
The pair were eternally optimistic. Even when they were the ones being pranked, they'd openly share the experience to amuse everyone.
"Want to fly? That's easy. I'll make your wish come true this afternoon."
Fred, still grinning foolishly, froze upon hearing this. Seeing it was Wayne who'd spoken, he quickly waved his hands. "Let's skip it today. We need to recover – our heads are spinning too much."
"Don't worry, this time there'll be no dizziness," Wayne said meaningfully.
There was Quidditch practice in the afternoon – perfect for some advertising.
Midway through lunch, a flurry of messengers flew in through the open doors, carrying parcels and letters for the young witches and wizards.
Two letters landed before Wayne. Usually, he wouldn't pay them much mind – he often received correspondence from Transfiguration societies and The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, discussing academic matters.
But these weren't from those old scholars.
One was from Mahoutokoro, the other from Ilvermorny.
The senders were Sakura and Cassandra.
He'd received one letter from Cassandra before, but this was Sakura's first since returning to Mahoutokoro.
Calculating the time, it had been over two months now.
Curious, Wayne first opened Sakura's letter.
Elegant handwriting carrying the faint scent of ink greeted him. The opening line was a very culturally appropriate apology.
Mahoutokoro strictly controlled communications during term time. Their letter-carrying seabirds could only operate domestically.
Sakura had only managed to send this letter during a recent open day by visiting a wizarding village at the volcano's base and finding the Owl Post Office.
The letter's contents were mundane – daily life, a young girl's thoughts, and concern for him.
Yet between the lines, Wayne could almost see a lovely brown-haired girl sitting beside him, sharing snippets of her world.
As he read, he couldn't help but smile.
Adorable.
Midway through, the handwriting suddenly changed, giving Wayne pause.
"Respectful greetings, Mr Lawrence. I am Tomoyo Daidouji..."
'Tomoyo?'
Intrigued, Wayne continued reading.
Perhaps because they were strangers, Tomoyo's writing was far more formal and polite.
Long paragraphs of pleasantries filled most of it, until the final sections took a turn. Tomoyo's excitement became palpable.
Her words overflowed with praise for Wayne's clothing designs, along with some suggestions of her own.
Clearly, she was delighted to find someone who shared her passion. She concluded with:
"Attached is but a sliver of my thoughts, hoping for your generous reply in kind."
A proper young lady well-versed in Eastern culture indeed.
Smiling, Wayne carefully refolded the letter and retrieved the enclosed card from the envelope.
They were photographs. In the photo, Sakura smiled shyly at the camera, her hands folded demurely in front of her. What caught Wayne's eye most was that she was wearing one of the outfits he had designed.
There were six photos in total. The first five were solo shots of Sakura, each featuring a different outfit and pose.
The final photo included another beautiful girl with long, straight black hair.
The girl had a classic hime-cut hairstyle, slightly bowing with a graceful smile, as if greeting Wayne.
Wayne couldn't help but look twice.
Compared to Sakura, Tomoyo was equally stunning, though their styles were completely different. It was a visual feast, yet he felt a tinge of regret.
Just this one photo...
And Tomoyo was wearing the standard Mahoutokoro robes, nothing distinctive.
Next time, he'd definitely ask for a couple more.
Wayne decided to write to Sakura as soon as he got back. After carefully storing the photos, he took out Cassandra's letter.
Cassandra was a completely different story. Her letter was full of boasting about her latest achievements and how much stronger she'd become.
Only at the end did she hesitantly extend an invitation, asking if Wayne wanted to visit America during the summer holidays.
She could 'grudgingly' act as his tour guide, adding that it was merely a task assigned by her father, Lafferty, and that Wayne shouldn't read too much into it.
Such a tsundere.
Going to America...
He hadn't really considered it recently. Though in a couple of years, he might take Mia back to visit her family.
By then, her Thunderbird parents would probably be unable to overpower her anymore.
"Wayne, what are you doing? Hurry up, or we'll be late for class."
"Coming!"
...
In the afternoon, after the final Charms lesson, Wayne gathered all the Hufflepuff Quidditch players and a crowd of onlookers.
"A friendly match?" Wotley looked baffled after hearing his proposal. "Since when did we arrange a friendly match with Gryffindor?"
"Oh, I unilaterally decided it this morning," Wayne said casually, leading the large group towards the castle grounds. "I'm going to teach you a new way to play Quidditch."
"Alright then." Wotley scratched his head but didn't object.
The group grew like a snowball along the way, with many people joining out of curiosity without even knowing the purpose.
By the time they reached the pitch, nearly a hundred people had gathered.
Wood, who was conducting tactical drills with the Gryffindor team, was so startled that he immediately called for a halt and landed.
"What are you lot doing here, Wotley?" Wood asked warily. "The pitch is booked for Gryffindor today."
Wotley shrugged and pointed at the boy beside him. "Ask Wayne. I've no idea."
Wood turned to Wayne.
Wayne smiled. "Wood, how about a friendly match?"
A friendly match?
Wood paused, then nodded after a moment's thought. "Alright."
Since Gryffindor had already played Hufflepuff in the official season, there was no risk of tactics being leaked. It would also be good practice.
He'd just devised a few new strategies and could test them out.
Only...
Wood frowned at the massive crowd of spectators behind them.
"It's not a standard Quidditch match," Wayne explained, pulling out the pre-prepared Flying Potion and detailing its effects.
"I just wanted to see if Quidditch would be more interesting without broomsticks."
"No problem!" The twins eagerly agreed before Wood could even respond.
George leaned towards Wayne, complaining, "Why'd you wait so long to bring out something this fun?"
"Lockhart was causing trouble before," Wayne smoothly deflected the blame without changing expression.
"Want to give it a try? It's free today. After this, you'll have to pay to experience the thrill of flight."
No Quidditch enthusiast could resist the call of the skies. Wood struggled between training and the Flying Potion for a long while before finally agreeing.
He feared that if he refused, the spectators would take matters into their own hands, rendering the pitch unusable anyway.
Both teams discarded their broomsticks and drank the potion, soon floating upwards. After some time adjusting to the sensation of flight...
"Effects last twenty minutes. Enjoy yourselves before then!" With that instruction, Wayne released the match balls, and over a dozen players began darting through the air.
Watching their carefree aerial manoeuvres, the young wizards below cheered excitedly.
"That looks amazing!"
"Look at those consecutive backflips! And Potter – he just flew straight through the goal hoops, grinning like an idiot."
"Damn, I want to try too!"
"Wayne, any spare potions left? How much per dose?"
Their curiosity and consumer instincts were thoroughly awakened...
"Eight Sickles per vial, twenty-minute duration." Wayne began his sales pitch as the fliers grew more adept overhead.
This was the improved basic formula – shorter duration and slower speed, but with significantly reduced material costs.
The premium version lasted a full hour with top speeds reaching 90mph. Priced at five Galleons, few students could afford it, so Wayne didn't mention it.
Even eight Sickles gave many pause as they hesitated. That amount could buy a large bag of sweets at Honeydukes.
Yet despite this, yesterday's batch of 120 vials (Gardevoir's handiwork) sold out rapidly, netting nearly sixty Galleons.
Twenty minutes later, players descended. The Golden Snitch remained uncaught, final score 50-30 to Hufflepuff.
"How was it?" Wayne asked.
"The flying sensation was incredible," Cedric mused, still relishing the memory of unfettered flight.
"But it makes for poor Quidditch."
"Exactly," Wood agreed. "Controlling your body is far simpler than steering a broom – skill becomes irrelevant."
"And after broomstick speeds, self-propelled flight feels sluggish."
Harry nodded vigorously. He'd spotted the Snitch multiple times but couldn't catch it due to his slow speed.
"Is that so?" Wayne pondered. "Then we'd need rule modifications for this format."
The potion-buying students cared little for such concerns. The moment players landed, they tipped back their vials and floated upwards.
Wood shook his head resignedly. Today's training session was thoroughly derailed.
...
Over the next few days, the Flying Potion rapidly took the castle by storm. Almost every student with a bit of spare money bought one bottle—or even several.
Little wizards could be seen zooming about everywhere inside the castle, forcing Professor McGonagall to introduce new school rules prohibiting flight within the premises swiftly.
However, in private, the elder cat-woman secretly sought out Wayne and bought twenty bottles in one go.
She wasn't the only one—other professors also purchased quite a few.
Professor Flitwick was overjoyed. He no longer needed to stand on books to teach his students; instead, he floated mid-air all day, even during meals, refusing to sit properly.
It was just a tad expensive.
After several consecutive days of flying, Professor Flitwick was forced back to the ground due to financial constraints.
Before long, the weekend arrived.
Hogwarts welcomed another open day.
The upper-year students happily headed to Hogsmeade, while Wayne had been staring blankly at the system screen inside his suitcase since early morning.
The upgrade progress bar had reached ninety-nine, just one final step away from completion.
Finally, just as his staring was about to lull him to sleep, the progress bar filled its last segment.
The familiar mechanical voice echoed in his mind.
Ding!