Hogwarts: Please, Just Graduate Already! 29

Chapter Fifty-Four: A Private Deal with Snape, Preparing for the Lottery (Please Subscribe!)

To be honest, Snape was quite sincere.

As a young Potions Master, the potions he carefully brewed were highly sought after even outside the school. Their quality and grade were absolutely guaranteed.

But Wayne wanted more.

"Professor, what do you think of my talent for Potions?"

Snape gave a slight nod and said with a hint of disdain, "It's barely passable. Still much better than that lot of idiots."

For those words to come from Snape, they were already an extraordinary compliment. Recently, he had gone to great lengths to find fault with Wayne, but he had never deducted points from him for brewing Potions, because Wayne followed every step of the process Snape had left behind.

Even when it differed from the contents of the book, Wayne used the procedure Snape had taught him without hesitation.

Unlike certain idiots who treated the contents of books as absolute truth.

Wayne wasn't angry. His talent for Potions was A+, while Snape's was definitely S, perhaps even S+.

Even Voldemort had to rely on him to brew certain potions. That alone showed how high his skill level was.

Wayne gave a sly grin and stood a little farther away. He was afraid a few drops of oil might fall from Snape's hair.

"Professor, I've mastered everything we've covered in class recently. Even the first- and second-year textbooks don't pose much of a challenge. I feel like I'm wasting my talent."

"You want private tutoring?" Snape instinctively wanted to refuse.

He was already busy enough with his classes every day. There were ten classes in total from first to fifth year. After passing their OWLs, Potions became an elective, so there were only two classes in sixth and seventh year.

Besides that, he had to help Dumbledore keep an eye on Quirrell. He barely had any private time left.

But he really did want those materials.

Especially the Phoenix tears. Used on their own, they were already one of the finest healing substances, far more effective than Sleekeazy's Hair Potion.

If he refined them into a potion himself, anyone who still had a breath left could be brought back from the brink of death.

He had once asked Dumbledore for some, but that Phoenix simply refused to cry. What could he do?

"Let me see the materials you collected first."

Snape ultimately couldn't resist the temptation. He wanted to inspect the goods before making a decision. Wayne had been prepared for this. He reached into his trouser pocket and rummaged around for a while before taking out a dragon-hide bag.

Snape gave him a long, deep look.

The Undetectable Extension Charm wasn't particularly difficult magic, but that was only when compared with outstanding students about to graduate.

He had mastered it in his third year. Wayne, however, had been at Hogwarts for less than a month.

Wayne emptied everything from the dragon-hide bag.

Several feathers, an exquisite crystal bottle containing a small amount of liquid, and a transparent jar filled with feces.

Snape picked up a feather. Feeling the abundant magic within it and its slightly warm texture, he smiled in satisfaction.

But when he saw the liquid in the crystal bottle, his expression changed. "Why is there so little?"

Wayne's mouth twitched. "Professor, this isn't a small amount. Everything I collected this week is in there. I didn't keep any for myself. How much more do you want?"

Snape probed, "A pint?"

Wayne rolled his eyes. "You may as well kill me. A pint of Phoenix tears? They're tears, not saliva!"

Snape also felt that he had gone too far and changed his demand. "Give me another bottle of the same amount, and I can tutor you for a month."

"No. A year."

"A year?" Snape sneered. "You've got some nerve. Do you know how much those potion companies pay me to instruct their potion-makers for a single session?"

"How much would buy Phoenix tears?"

"Two months. Two months at most."

"Until Easter."

The older and younger wizard haggled back and forth. In the end, they settled on Christmas. Wayne would come to Snape for lessons every Tuesday evening.

Wayne would also have to give him two more bottles of Phoenix tears of the same volume. Having achieved his goal, Wayne left happily.

For Neville and Harry, Snape was definitely not a good teacher. His constant verbal humiliation and their terrible relationship made it impossible for them to listen in class.

But Wayne wasn't afraid of any of that. Every time Snape pointed out one of his problems, he went straight to the key point. His efficiency was extremely high.

The time until Christmas was enough for him to learn quite a lot. His only regret was that his talent for Potions was a little too low.

An A+ talent was certainly sufficient, but Wayne had experienced the efficiency of an SS-level talent when learning Charms and various White Magic spells. He knew the gap was simply too great.

"System, open the panel."

Without looking at any of the other attributes, Wayne pulled it directly to the bottom.

Points: 6508

Wayne let out a soft sigh.

Thank goodness for those wealthy Slytherins. Without them, there was no way my points could have increased this quickly.

At least half of these points came from those Slytherin little witches and wizards buying maps.

Oh, right. Snape had deducted several dozen points from him recently, which had also made a major contribution. The rest came from Wayne violating school rules and causing trouble in his daily life. Quirrell accounted for the lion's share of that. Now Defense Against the Dark Arts had become Wayne's favorite class, bar none.

There was no other reason. The more than one hundred points he received from each lesson were enough to make him laugh out loud.

I'll use all the points tonight. Hopefully I can draw something good.

Wayne had previously planned to buy a bottle of Liquid Luck, drink it, and then draw the lottery. But the system had given him a reminder.

It wasn't affected by any external force. It relied entirely on the host's own luck. Wayne abandoned the idea.

Because haggling with Snape had taken up so much time, Wayne didn't bother returning to the common room. He went straight to the Great Hall for dinner.

Then he saw Harry and Malfoy standing at the entrance like two door guardians, refusing to go inside. They stood two meters apart, gazing deeply into each other's eyes.

Ron was also glaring viciously at Malfoy's two followers. The tension was so intense it seemed sparks might fly.

"What are you doing?"

Wayne asked curiously, and only then did the group come back to their senses.

"Nothing, Lawrence." Malfoy nodded at Wayne, no longer lingering with Harry. Before leaving, he leaned close to Harry's ear and whispered, "Don't get scared into wetting your pants and fail to show up."

Although he thought his voice was low, Wayne's hearing was sharp enough to catch every word. His heart stirred.

Are they going to duel?

Oh, no, not a duel. Wayne remembered that Malfoy had tricked Harry and the others, then failed to show up himself and reported them to Filch instead.

"Wayne, Malfoy actually greeted you?" Harry also stopped watching Malfoy's departing back and looked at Wayne in surprise.

It wasn't just him. Ron also complained, "Malfoy's eyes are stuck in his nostrils. He can't see anyone except pure-bloods. Did his eyes fall out today?"

"Maybe it's because he bought my map, so he was just being polite." Wayne waved his hand.

"What were you talking about just now? You looked like you were about to start fighting."

"Nothing!"

Ron and Harry answered in unison. They exchanged a glance, and Harry hurriedly added, "He mocked my scar again. I said a couple of things back. You know how Malfoy is—he talks too much."

"All right, then. I'm going to eat." Wayne nodded indifferently, called out a farewell, and left.

He didn't bother with such trivial matters.

If Harry had brought it up himself, Wayne might have warned them that Malfoy could be playing a trick and told them to be careful if they went.

But since he hadn't said anything, they could only fend for themselves.

The Great Hall was extremely lively. Tomorrow was Hogwarts' first Hogsmeade visit of the term. Little witches and wizards in their third year and above could go to Hogsmeade for the day.

It was also the only village in Britain made up entirely of wizards. Although it wasn't as lively as Diagon Alley, it had its own unique charm.

Especially the landlady of The Three Broomsticks. Many little witches and wizards went there, ordered a glass of Butterbeer, and stayed to watch the entire day go by.

"Wayne, you're here. Is there anything you need me to buy for you tomorrow?" Cedric asked when he saw Wayne come over for dinner.

"Buy me some ink, and some products from Zonko's Joke Shop," Wayne said softly.

The items from Zonko's Joke Shop were all on Filch's list. This wasn't something he could announce loudly.

Cedric naturally understood and lowered his voice as well. "What do you want? Make me a list when we get back."

"No need. Just buy two of each."

"That many?" Cedric was startled. "Are you trying to get Filch killed?"

"I'm getting them for research. Do you take me for Fred and George?" Wayne rolled his eyes. He tapped his wand lightly on the table and said, "I need a cup of black tea."

Whoosh!

A steaming cup of black tea appeared in front of him.

Some of Zonko's Joke Shop's products were potions, while others were little alchemical gadgets. Wayne could learn quite a lot from them.

"I'll do my best." Cedric rubbed his hands together. He was worried that someone might see him buying so many things.

"How are you doing with Charms Studies?"

"More or less. I've got the basics down."

"Then I'll teach you how to make maps on Sunday."

"Sure."

Wayne chatted with Cedric while eating. When he saw Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table with a pile of books in her arms, he finished his meal and went over.

"I'm going to Hagrid's for afternoon tea tomorrow. Do you want to come?"

Hermione tilted her head and thought about it.

She could finish her homework in the morning. She had originally planned to ask Wayne to go to the library with her in the afternoon, but afternoon tea wasn't a bad alternative.

The little witch nodded. "Sure. What time shall we go?"

"Two o'clock. You can do your homework in the morning, and I'll copy mine at noon before going over."

Hermione angrily punched him. "I'm not lending it to you. Write your own homework."

"Oh, then learn the Shield Charm by yourself too." Wayne replied indifferently, but Hermione immediately panicked.

"How can you go back on your word? You agreed yesterday!"

Hermione knew that Wayne had mastered many spells. After pestering him for several days, she had finally managed to get some real knowledge out of him.

And now he wanted to go back on his word?

Seeing the little witch's anxious expression, Wayne grinned wickedly and teased her. "I'm withdrawing my agreement. Is that not allowed?"

"No!"

"If I'm not teaching you, then I'm not teaching you—unless you let me copy your homework." Wayne began acting shamelessly.

Hermione ground her teeth in fury, but she had no way to deal with him. In the end, she submitted angrily.

If it had been anyone else, Hermione would rather have gone without learning a new spell than hand over her homework.

But with Wayne, it didn't matter. He already knew everything the teacher taught in class. Let him copy it.

Having obtained what he wanted, Wayne left the Gryffindor table amid Hermione's pushing and shoving.

Then he went to the Ravenclaw table next door. Since he had invited Hermione, he couldn't leave Cho out either.

Unfortunately, Cho had Quidditch practice that afternoon.

Wayne looked surprised. "Isn't tomorrow Hogsmeade day? Why do you still have practice?"

Cho was helpless. "The captain said it was enough for them to go play for the morning. They're coming back to practice in the afternoon."

"Then do your best." Wayne looked at her sympathetically, and his resolve not to join the Quidditch team grew stronger.

He was busy breaking school rules. Where would he find time to train?

Cho looked at him expectantly. "If there's anything tasty, remember to save some for me."

Wayne nodded with a smile, but inwardly he was complaining.

If Hagrid has anything tasty, I'll twist Quirrell's head off and give it to the Troll as a chamber pot.

"Achoo!"

Quirrell, who was eating at the High Table, sneezed. He smiled apologetically at Professor Sprout beside him.

Flitwick said with concern, "Professor Quirrell, the weather has been getting colder lately. Take care of yourself."

Quirrell answered timidly, making Flitwick sigh inwardly. Quirrell hadn't been like this before. Coming to Hogwarts as a professor at such a young age, he had been considered an outstanding graduate.

But after teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, he seemed to have become a completely different person. He stammered when he spoke and had grown much more timid. He had even been reduced to tears by Wayne. It was unbelievable.

Slytherin dormitory.

Malfoy and his two followers had been assigned to the same room.

"Draco, are you really going to duel Potter tonight?" Goyle asked.

Malfoy said viciously, "Of course. Just watch me teach Potter a proper lesson!"

Crabbe scratched his head in confusion. "But didn't you say earlier that you were going to report him to Filch and get points deducted from Gryffindor?"

"Are you stupid?" Malfoy slapped Crabbe on the head.

"Gryffindor only has a dozen or so points. What's the use of deducting a few more?"

"Besides," Malfoy said, lifting his chin, "I'm the heir to the Malfoy family. I proposed the duel. If I don't go, what kind of sense does that make?"

"That wouldn't be proper aristocratic conduct!"

"A Potter who grew up in a Muggle household could never be my opponent." After saying all that, the two of them still didn't understand him. They merely asked whom he planned to bring as his second.