They finally found Lee Jordan inside a suit of armor on the fifth floor.
"Filch nearly went insane—he chased me from the fourth floor all the way to the eighth. I jumped into a hidden passage and circled back to the sixth floor, and he still caught up with me!"
In the kitchens, Lee Jordan recounted animatedly while munching on a sandwich.
The house-elves had kindly prepared a large round table for them, covered with food and drinks.
After finishing a sandwich, Lee said with some concern,
"But I've got this feeling Filch knows it was me. What if he comes after me later?"
Fred reassured him, "It's not a maybe. It's a definitely."
"There are only a few Black students in the whole school, and you're the most unruly. Filch definitely knows."
"Damn it." Lee froze, shaking with anger. "So you two deliberately set me up?"
"Don't worry," said Cedric, finishing a glass of lemonade, "As long as he didn't catch you red-handed or get solid evidence, he has no right to punish you."
Fred scoffed, "Exactly. All these years hanging with us and you still don't know the rules?"
"That's why I've been given detention so many times!" Lee shot back indignantly, before quickly turning to what he really wanted to know.
"So what was in that corridor? Did you see it?"
At the mention of this, everyone perked up.
"Let me tell you... you wouldn't believe it..."
Lee's mouth fell open so wide you could've fit a pear inside.
"A three-headed dog? A trapdoor?"
Then he turned to Wayne, who was still focused on stuffing his face.
"You're telling me Wayne defeated the three-headed dog?"
"I didn't defeat it," Wayne corrected him. "Just stalled it for a bit."
"That was us holding you back," Cedric interjected. "Judging by your stance back there, you weren't going to stop until the dog was dead."
"How did your spells get so powerful?" George asked enviously.
"Compared to you, I was totally useless in my first year."
"We still are," Fred chimed in without holding back, roasting even himself.
"With what we just saw, he could turn the four of us into Muggles."
Cedric's mouth twitched. Fine, roast yourselves if you must—but why drag me into it?
Do you think being top of the year doesn't matter to me?
"Any secrets you can share?" Cedric finally asked, unable to resist.
"I honestly can't teach you," Wayne shook his head. "Magic is an innate talent. You can only unlock it—it's hard to actually improve it."
"If you want to get stronger, you either need to master more spells or deepen your understanding of magic."
He wasn't making excuses. It was just the truth.
Dumbledore and Grindelwald's power came from a combination of natural talent and hard work.
Even in their school years, they displayed extraordinary gifts. Only through diligence on top of that foundation could they achieve such terrifying heights.
Talent was the groundwork. Without it, hard work alone wouldn't show much.
The most obvious example? Hermione.
When Harry had just started at Hogwarts, he spent all his time playing around and would only charge ahead recklessly when things happened. Hermione, on the other hand, had already mastered many spells back then.
But later on, with some guidance from Lupin, by the time he reached third year, Harry's magical power had already surpassed Hermione's—and the gap only continued to grow.
That's the difference talent makes.
Cedric's talent was decent, but only decent among normal people. According to the system's grading, his overall rating would be a B-level.
He was fairly well-rounded and also worked hard, which was why he could firmly hold onto the title of top student in his year.
The twins were a little worse, and their attention was mostly on how to have more fun.
"Ugh, I just hate talent monsters like you," Fred grumbled, curling his lip.
The others didn't say anything more and focused on enjoying their midnight snack.
Half an hour later, Wayne and the others finally left the kitchen and went their separate ways.
However, after watching Cedric return to the dormitory, Wayne walked out of the common room again.
He had already checked in at the fourth-floor corridor and earned fifty points for it.
Tonight's stroll had netted him over a hundred points.
But this time, Wayne wasn't going out to farm more points.
He wanted to go to the Restricted Section of the library to see if there were any books he needed.
He had bought a beginner-level alchemy book at Flourish and Blotts—it was actually the alchemy textbook from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.
Because of Nicolas Flamel, Beauxbatons was far ahead in alchemy. Their students could start taking alchemy as an elective from third year.
But at Hogwarts, you had to pass your OWLs first to be eligible.
More advanced books weren't mass-produced—alchemy was a high-threshold subject and wasn't suitable for broad promotion.
So Wayne could only try his luck in the Restricted Section, hoping to find something useful.
Just as he doubled back and arrived at the second floor, Dumbledore and Snape were already at the fourth-floor corridor.
Looking at the oak door that seemed unchanged on the surface, Snape placed his wand on the handle to sense it.
Then, with a cold tone, he spoke.
"Alohomora… Looks like your warning was completely ineffective, Dumbledore."
"That's understandable, Severus," Dumbledore replied, not at all angry that someone had disobeyed his warning.
His tone was as casual as if he were chatting with a friend about a mischievous grandson.
"Weren't you the same back then? Oh yes, there was that one time when you and Po—"
"Enough!" Snape snapped irritably, cutting him off. "You're too old to keep reminiscing about the past. Was that a pleasant memory? They should've been expelled!"
"And so should any little student who breaks in here!"
"It hasn't gotten that serious yet," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye as he took out a key and opened the oak door.
"Let's at least see how far they've gotten."
Snape snorted coldly and didn't go in first.
That dumb dog only recognized Hagrid and Dumbledore—anyone else would be attacked on sight.
Only after Dumbledore entered did Snape follow behind.
The three-headed dog started growling but immediately lay down when it saw the familiar white beard. All three tongues lolled out as it whimpered softly.
"This is…" Snape's eyes narrowed.
His wand lit up, allowing the two of them to clearly see the injuries on the three-headed dog.
Dumbledore said meaningfully, "It seems our little student is quite capable."