Headmaster's Office, Wayne was delivering an impassioned speech.
"Back then, I had just entered the wizarding world, and my first impression was my own poverty."
Professor McGonagall drew a sharp breath, finally unable to restrain herself from interrupting the young man who had just hit his stride: "Wayne, when you say you were poor... isn't that rather inappropriate?"
She felt she would never forget that scene for the rest of her life - an eleven-year-old boy somewhat laboriously pulling a gold brick from his schoolbag and slapping it on the table.
If this counted as poor... then wouldn't every Hogwarts student be considered impoverished?
"Minerva, the 'me' here is just a representation," Wayne patiently explained. "I'm speaking from the perspective of a young wizard from a Muggle family."
"After all, apart from the few who can exchange gold for Galleons, most students only have that small annual limit. After buying textbooks, there isn't much money left."
Understanding his point now, Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement.
"But the restrictions on Muggle currency exchange for Galleons are set by the Ministry of Magic. There shouldn't be much the school can do about it, should there?"
"There are still some methods," Wayne said with a smile. "Let's go through them one by one."
"First, I'll negotiate with the Ministry of Magic about the exchange limit. I'll try my best to persuade them to increase this limit - it should be at least ten times the current amount."
"Second, we implement bulk purchasing. The school can make large quantity purchases to lower prices."
"For items like cauldrons and dragon-hide gloves that frequently get damaged and need replacement, the school can purchase a batch in advance and sell them to students at cost when needed."
"Excellent suggestions," Professor Sprout praised. "I approve."
"I approve as well."
None of the Heads of House objected, and Wayne then assigned the arduous task of logistics management to... Filch.
As the school's caretaker, commonly known as the gatekeeper, Filch actually didn't have particularly heavy daily duties, possessing ample time and energy to handle these miscellaneous matters.
Wayne also wanted him to become the logistics steward, sharing the burden with Professor McGonagall.
Filch, who had been sitting quietly at the end listening to the discussion, looked up in astonishment upon hearing his name.
"M-Mr Lawrence, you can't be serious?"
"It's definitely you, Mr Filch," Wayne encouraged him. "Your understanding of student circumstances isn't inferior to any professor's, and you've made many contributions to the school. You're the perfect candidate for this position."
Receiving this recognition, Filch became so emotional that he could barely speak coherently, finally promising to do his utmost to ensure all purchases were made at the lowest possible prices.
"Then, there's the third method," Wayne declared with a sweeping gesture. "To stimulate students' learning motivation, I've decided to establish a scholarship."
"All students ranking in the top ten of their year will receive a certain amount of Galleons as a reward. This can both alleviate students' financial pressure and inspire everyone's learning enthusiasm."
"The name shouldn't be too complicated. Hmm, let's call it the Lawrence Scholarship."
"Is naming it after yourself really appropriate?" Snape couldn't hold back, instinctively quipping.
"Hmm?" Wayne narrowed his eyes at him. "Severus, do you have some objection?"
"No, I think... It's fine." Snape's heart skipped a beat, inwardly regretting that he'd spoken his thoughts aloud.
"Since you think it's fine..." Wayne said with a faint smile, "Then, Severus, shouldn't you show some appreciation?"
"Appreciation for what?" A sense of foreboding rose in Snape's heart.
"Although the scholarship has been established, there's no funding in it yet. Severus, you're a beloved professor among students, surely you'll be generous with your contribution, right?"
Snape nearly cursed aloud.
'Bloody hell, it's a scholarship named after you, yet you won't put up the money and want me to be the fool who pays? Even Voldemort wasn't this vicious!'
But, seeing the young man looking at him with a warm smile, he found himself unable to refuse. He didn't dare, and he couldn't.
"How much?" The words practically forced their way through his clenched teeth.
"Not much." Wayne calculated roughly. "Seven years, but we don't need to include graduates since they've already left. So six years then, three hundred Galleons per year. What do you think?"
"I... think it's fine." Snape agreed with a cold expression. "But I'm only paying this once."
"Mm, once is enough. Afterwards, the board will be responsible for this fund."
"Then let's thank Professor Snape for his donation! Everyone, let's give him a round of applause!"
Led by Wayne, the other professors reluctantly held back their laughter as they clapped, expressing their admiration and praise for Snape's selfless generosity.
Only the man himself maintained an expression like thousand-year-old unmelting ice.
The other professors understood - if they'd lost nearly two thousand Galleons, their expressions would surely be even worse than Snape's.
"Alright." Wayne's smile faded as his expression turned serious. "Now let's discuss the most serious problem facing the school today."
"That is, the students are too undisciplined! Too relaxed!"
Wayne slapped the table with some dissatisfaction. "This is what pains me the most. The quality of graduates gets worse every year. Take last year, for example - the Outstanding rate across all subjects has fallen to barely ten per cent."
When it came to academics, Professor McGonagall became even more serious than Wayne, especially when he mentioned the Outstanding rate, which made her old face flush with embarrassment.
Only two students in the entire graduating class had achieved Os - truly the worst year she'd ever taught.
"You're right, I also think the current students are too undisciplined, completely lacking any sense of urgency." Professor McGonagall said with a headache. "But I think I'm already assigning enough homework."
"Minerva, homework can't solve every problem," Flitwick said in his squeaky voice. "We should cultivate the students' interests so they study voluntarily."
"I actually think it's better to let nature take its course." Professor Sprout offered a different opinion. "Some students have uneven results because they genuinely lack talent in certain areas. Like Mr Longbottom - he does quite well in my classes."
"It's still not enough punishment," Snape said with a sinister smile. "As long as the bottom ten students from each year get a month's detention, they'll be motivated to work harder."
The four Heads of House took turns expressing their opinions, each representing their different teaching philosophies, while other professors shared their thoughts as well.
But Wayne shook his head.
"Everyone, you're all missing the main point."
The professors all looked at him.
Wayne slammed the table and stood up: "The most fundamental reason is that there are far too few exams at Hogwarts!"
"From enrolment in September to exams in June, that's a full ten months. During this period, although there are some small classroom tests, they have absolutely no impact on the final grades."
"Think about it, everyone – over ten months, what was learned earlier is long forgotten by exam time. The students understand this too, so they're unfocused during the first two terms, saving intensive revision for the very end."
"This is absolutely unacceptable!"
Wayne grew more animated, gesturing with his hand, "To keep everyone in optimal learning condition at all times, we need exams – lots of exams!"
"With two terms per academic year, we should have midterms and finals every term."
"Enrol in September, exams in early November, exams again before Christmas break. Return in January, exams in March, and exams in June."
"We must constantly maintain intensity and pressure on the students. Only this way will they avoid last-minute cramming just before finals."
"What does everyone think?"
All the professors stared at Wayne, speechless for a long moment.
Even the strictest Professor McGonagall found this too harsh and stammered, "W-Wayne, isn't this too extreme? Exams every two months seems rather frequent."
Wayne waved his hand dismissively without responding.
'This is nothing. You haven't seen what weekly tests, monthly exams, midterms, finals, and occasional inter-school consortium exams look like.'
"Professor McGonagall, we're doing this for the students' futures," Wayne said with grave sincerity. "Don't you want your students to achieve ideal scores upon graduation and find satisfying jobs?"
"I..." Professor McGonagall hesitated. She knew that following Wayne's method would likely improve grades.
But jumping from one exam per year to five or six at once was difficult to accept.
"How about we trial this a few times, starting with this Christmas, to see the effects?"
"Very well."
Professor McGonagall ultimately agreed.
[Ding! Major event generating: 'The good die young, while the wicked live a thousand years' generation complete.]
[Host has implemented an education reform that outrages both gods and men. This major event is a long-term event. As long as the host's policies remain in effect at Hogwarts, an annual reward of ten thousand points will be granted.]
'Comfortable.'
Wayne sat back in his seat, thoroughly satisfied.
Newt looked at the smile on his face and whispered, "Wayne, now that you're Headmaster, will you still take the exams?"
Swish, swish, swish!
The professors who had been murmuring among themselves turned their attention to the young man once more.
"Of course I will," Wayne replied without changing expression. "As both Headmaster and student, I must lead by example."
Newt withdrew his suspicious gaze.
He had originally thought Wayne was just being whimsical and wanted to torment the young wizards, but now it appeared otherwise.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have included himself in the scheme – he must genuinely be concerned about everyone's studies.
'What a good lad.'
For a moment, Newt looked at Wayne with kind and approving eyes.
But what he didn't know was...
[Congratulations, host, on completing achievement: 'I'll Even Scheme Against Myself', reward points +500]
Wayne: "..."
'Fine, as long as I can spread the light of exam-oriented education to more people, I'll accept scheming against myself.'
...
The main content of the meeting was these two points Wayne had mentioned. He left all remaining minor issues for Professor McGonagall to handle.
Finally, he raised the professors' salaries by twenty percent. Wayne's first meeting since taking office concluded successfully.
Snape was the first to rush out - he truly couldn't bear to see Lawrence's face any longer.
After the professors had left, Wayne stood up, picked up a newspaper from the tea table, and focused his thoughts.
Ho-Oh emerged from the flames. He tied the newspaper to Ho-Oh's leg and gently patted its head: "Deliver this newspaper to Nurmengard."
"Chirp chirp!"
With a light cry, Ho-Oh flew out the window.
Upon leaving the office, the professors were astonished to discover the entire castle had descended into chaos.
"What's going on?"
Snape grabbed a panicked student, frowning as he asked.
The person he grabbed seemed relieved rather than frightened. "Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall! We've finally found you!"
"What exactly happened, Mr Phillips?" Professor McGonagall asked in confusion.
Phillips pointed downstairs. "Just now, many Centaurs came into the castle! They stormed into Professor Umbridge's office and forcibly took her away!"
"What?!" Professor McGonagall's voice became strained.
"What about Firenze? Did he call them here?"
"Professor Firenze was injured, too! The Centaurs took him away as well. I heard he'll be punished when they return."
After hearing this, Professor McGonagall exchanged glances with the other professors. "Newt, I'll find Wayne. You go to the Centaur tribe - make sure they don't harm Umbridge."
Newt acknowledged and rushed down the stairs carrying his case, while Professor McGonagall turned back upward, quickly returning to the eighth floor. She recited the password before the gargoyle:
"Universal celebration!"
"Oh, little McGonagall. The password is correct," said the gargoyle without opening, "but your timing is quite unfortunate. Young Lawrence just left the school."
"Where did he go?" McGonagall asked urgently.
"I'm just a doorkeeper, how would I know where he went?" The gargoyle yawned lazily. "Come back tomorrow - he never returns to his office in the evening."
Professor McGonagall stared at the now silent stone statue, an incredible thought forming in her mind.
'Did Wayne specifically gather all the professors... to create convenience for the Centaurs...'
'So they could take Umbridge away?!'