The black-haired girl who had fallen in front of Wayne rubbed her forehead as she stood up, revealing a delicate and refined face.
"I'm fine, just a bit of pain on my forehead."
"Sorry, I was thinking and didn't watch where I was going."
Though destined to be a future troublemaker, Wayne still had manners—and this time, he was clearly at fault.
Before the girl could respond, he raised his finger and gently murmured, "Episkey!"
A warm sensation spread across her forehead, and the pain vanished. Glancing at a mirror nearby, she saw the redness and swelling had completely disappeared.
"A healing spell—and wandless at that? That's amazing!"
She looked at Wayne with excitement. "I'm Cho Chang. What's your name?"
"Wayne. Wayne Lawrence."
So this was Cho Chang.
Wayne looked at her—she was much more beautiful than the on-screen version, definitely a textbook Chinese beauty.
"Oh, I remember now! You're the one with the Sorting Hat fiasco yesterday!" Cho suddenly realized.
Wayne nodded with a laugh. "That's right. If I'd known Ravenclaw had so many pretty girls, I might've chosen them instead."
He knew how to say the right things. Sure enough, Cho blushed a little but looked pleased, and the distance between the two shrank significantly as they chatted and walked toward the Great Hall together.
"Hmph!"
A soft snort came from the other side of the hallway once they had left. Hermione, who had just finished Herbology class, had witnessed the whole scene.
She recalled how Wayne had acted when they first met.
For some reason, the young witch felt rather uncomfortable.
"Quidditch tryouts are next week... I don't even know if I'll get picked."
Wayne and Cho were getting along quite well. Their only disagreement was that Cho believed someone as clever as Wayne should have been sorted into Ravenclaw, not Hufflepuff.
But Wayne disagreed. He believed that intelligence wasn't exclusive to Ravenclaw. After all, Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore had both been in other houses.
There was, of course, one thought he didn't voice aloud:
In his opinion, Ravenclaw's so-called "intelligence" was often just self-righteous cleverness or scheming cunning.
Just look at some of their notable alumni—
This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirrell, had been so easily manipulated by a disembodied Voldemort that he ended up becoming a human host.
Next year's professor, Lockhart, would be a complete fraud.
Then there was Barty Crouch Sr.—a capable wizard and one of the Ministry's top officials—who, in a moment of madness, smuggled his Death Eater son out of Azkaban, triggering a whole chain of disasters.
Looking at it that way, most Ravenclaws were just superficially clever and had never grasped true wisdom.
But of course, Wayne wasn't about to say any of that to Cho.
Otherwise, the sweet and smiling girl next to him would instantly turn hostile.
When she mentioned being nervous about the upcoming Quidditch tryouts, Wayne comforted her:
"Don't worry—Cedric says Ravenclaw's Quidditch team would be lucky just to gather seven players. If you sign up, you'll definitely get selected."
Ravenclaw had more girls than boys, and many of their students were eccentric and not keen on group activities.
What Cedric said was actually quite accurate—very objective, even.
Cho's face darkened.
"Cedric?" she repeated. "That third-year Hufflepuff Seeker who's ranked top in his year?"
"Thanks for the encouragement. I'm going to train now. Next time we play Hufflepuff—I'll make sure to be on the field!"
The comment had clearly fired her up. Her competitive spirit flared.
She had her sights set on the Seeker position and had secretly been training all summer.
If she made the team, then when they played against Hufflepuff, she'd make sure to catch the Golden Snitch and show Cedric what it meant to look down on Ravenclaw.
Wayne smiled as he watched the girl walk away.
[Host has successfully sown discord and damaged relations between two major Houses. Reward: 50 points.]
Tsk.
Fortunately, the system was lucky to be bound to such an agreeable host—otherwise, it might have been uninstalled long ago.
What did it mean to "sow discord"? All he did was repeat Cedric's original words, without adding any embellishment at all.
Besides, isn't trash talk before a match standard procedure?
He hadn't even mentioned the really ruthless stuff yet.
Like the secret Fred had shared on the train yesterday:
Every time a Quidditch match is played against Ravenclaw, the game tends to drag on for ages. The reason?
Seven players—five of them girls. Even the two Beaters are female.
Outside of Quidditch, when else would you have a chance to play with so many girls at once—let alone have them chasing after you?
When Fred had said that, not just the twins, even Cedric had cracked a cheeky grin, clearly enjoying the thought.
In the afternoon, they had a double Charms class. Professor Flitwick stood atop a high stack of books to call roll, and when he reached Harry Potter's name, he squealed in excitement—and fell off the stack.
It took him a while to compose himself before he could begin the first lesson.
Charms were the foundation of all magic. Learning them wasn't just about mastering spells—it also improved one's efficiency in learning other magic and helped young wizards build their own understanding of magic.
That was also why Harry had been able to pick up the Disarming Charm and the Shield Charm so quickly.
Once your foundation is solid, learning everything else becomes much faster.
"Today, we'll be learning one of the most basic spells—the Wand-Lighting Charm. It's very simple. The incantation is Lumos…"
"What's wrong with you? Who upset you?"
Wayne was once again seated next to Hermione, but the little witch didn't even glance at him.
When Wayne sat down silently, her fair face turned pointedly away.
She might as well have had I'm upset—come make it up to me written across her forehead.
Wayne thought about it. It definitely wasn't about what happened in History of Magic—Hermione wasn't that petty.
Then what happened?
"Don't talk to me during class, Mr. Lawrence!"
Welp. She was calling him Mr. Lawrence now. No doubt about who she was mad at.
Wayne still couldn't figure out exactly what the little witch was upset about, and he wasn't very experienced at comforting girls, so he decided to just give her some space.
As Professor Flitwick announced that they could begin practicing freely, the classroom instantly became noisy.
Voices chanting the incantation echoed all around.
Wayne raised his wand and said softly:
"Lumos!"