54. Transaction With Snape, Preparation For Lottery

Frankly speaking, Snape was an incredible potion master. He meticulously refined potions that were highly sought after by the outside world, guaranteeing top-notch quality and standards. However, Wayne desired more recognition from Snape.

"Professor, what are your thoughts on my potion talent?" Wayne asked.

Snape nodded slightly, his tone tainted with disdain. "I can just about acknowledge it. It's much better than those imbeciles."

For Snape to utter such words meant that it was a great compliment. Lately, he had been trying various strategies to find fault with Wayne, but the young student had flawlessly followed the precise potion-making procedures left by Snape. Wayne even deviated from the book's guidelines when necessary, contrasting with others who blindly adhered to the text as absolute truth.

Wayne was not angered by Snape's comments. After all, his potion talent was rated A+, while Snape's expertise was undoubtedly of an S or even higher level. Even Voldemort relied on Snape to refine certain potions, underscoring just how exceptional he was.

Wayne grinned and took a step back, wary of any oil droplets that may fall from Snape's hair. "Professor, I have fully grasped all the recent material covered in class. Even the first and second-year textbooks pose no challenge. I feel my talent is being wasted."

"Do you wish to receive tutoring?" Snape instinctively wanted to decline.

Teaching kept Snape extremely busy each day. With ten classes spanning from first-year to fifth-year, and only two classes left for the sixth and seventh years once the Ordinary Wizarding Levels exam was passed, Snape had very little personal time. Additionally, he was responsible for monitoring Quirrell on Dumbledore's behalf.

However, the allure of those materials was hard to resist.

Particularly the Phoenix Tears. When used alone, it was the ultimate healing medicine. If Snape could refine it into a magical potion, it would have the power to save lives, even from the brink of death.

Snape had once requested some from Dumbledore, but the phoenix had refused to shed any tears. What more could he do?

"First, show me the materials you've gathered," Snape demanded.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Snape wanted to examine the goods firsthand before making a decision.

Wayne was already prepared. He reached into his pants pocket and fumbled around for a while before producing a dragon skin bag.

Snape gave him a deep, appraising look.

The Traceless Stretching Spell wasn't particularly difficult, but it still posed a challenge for exceptional students who were on the brink of graduating. Snape himself had mastered it by his third year, casting it flawlessly.

However, Wayne had only been attending school for more than a month.

Wayne emptied the contents of the dragon skin bag onto a nearby surface.

There were a few feathers, a delicate crystal bottle filled with a liquid, and a transparent jar containing feces. Picking up the feather, Snape smiled with satisfaction as he felt the abundant magic and the slight heat emanating from it.

However, his satisfaction quickly faded when he saw the small amount of liquid in the crystal bottle.

"Why is there so little?" he asked with disappointment.

The corner of Wayne's mouth twitched. "Professor, this is a lot. It's all I managed to collect this week, and I didn't leave any for myself. How much more do you want?"

Snape asked tentatively, "A pint?"

Wayne rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding? A pint of Phoenix tears? These are tears, not saliva!"

Realizing he may have been too demanding, Snape changed his mind. "Fine. Give me another bottle with the same amount, and I'll tutor you for a month."

"No, a year," Wayne insisted.

"A year?" Snape sneered. "How dare you say that? Do you know how much potion companies pay to have me instruct their pharmacists?"

"Well, how much does it cost to buy Phoenix tears then?"

"Maximum of two months, that's it."

"Until Easter," Wayne countered.

After a lot of back-and-forth, they finally agreed on a time before Christmas for Wayne's lessons every Tuesday night. Wayne would also provide Snape with two more bottles of the same amount of Phoenix tears.

Satisfied with the deal, Wayne left happily.

For Neville and Harry, Snape was undoubtedly a terrible teacher. His constant verbal humiliation and strained relationships made it impossible for them to focus in class.

But Wayne was undeterred. Every time Snape pointed out his mistakes, Wayne understood it to be a crucial lesson, and he quickly improved.

The time before Christmas was enough for him to learn a great deal.

His only regret was that his potion talent was somewhat lacking.

While an A+ talent was typically enough, Wayne, who had experienced SS-level talent when learning spells and various white magic, knew there was a significant gap.

"System, open the panel," Wayne said, ignoring the other attributes and scrolling to the bottom.

[Points: 6508]

Wayne sighed.

He owed much of his point growth to the Slytherin students who bought the map. Without them, his progress would not have been as fast.

At least half of the points were earned from those Slytherin students. Oh, and Snape deducting points from him recently also contributed significantly.

The rest were obtained through Wayne's mischievous acts and violations of school rules.

Most of these points came from Quirrell's class, which had become Wayne's favorite. No class came close to it.

Assuming nothing changed, the more than one hundred points he earned in each class would surely make him smile triumphantly.

He planned to use all his points that evening, hoping for something good.

Initially, Wayne had considered buying a bottle of Felixir and drinking it before drawing a lottery. However, the system had warned him that luck was pure and not affected by any external forces.

With that in mind, Wayne abandoned the idea. Wayne wasted a significant amount of time bargaining with Snape, so he decided to skip going back to the common room and went straight to the Great Hall to eat.

As I approached, I noticed Harry and Malfoy standing at the door, resembling two door gods, hesitant to enter, exchanging affectionate looks from a distance of two meters.

Ronald fiercely glared at Malfoy's two followers.

Tensions were high and sparks seemed to fly.

"What are you doing?" Wayne asked curiously, snapping a few people out of their daze.

"It's nothing, Lawrence," Malfoy replied, nodding at Wayne. He then whispered in Harry's ear before leaving, "Don't be so scared that you wet your pants and don't dare to come."

Although Malfoy's voice was barely a whisper, Wayne's keen hearing picked it up clearly, and he felt a pang in his heart.

Is this a duel?

No, it wasn't a duel. Wayne remembered that Malfoy had tricked Harry and the others before, so he decided not to join in and instead informed Filch.

"Wayne, can you believe Malfoy acknowledged you?" Harry asked, withdrawing his gaze from Malfoy's departing figure, looking surprised.

Not only Harry, but Ronald also chimed in with a complaint, "Malfoy thinks he's too good for anyone who isn't pure-blood. Did his eyes fall out today?"

"Maybe because you bought my map, it was a nice gesture to say hello," Wayne waved off the comment. He continued, "What were you two talking about just now? It seemed like things were getting heated."

"Nothing!" Harry and Ronald said simultaneously, exchanging glances. Harry quickly added, "He was just mocking my scar again, and I gave him a piece of my mind. You know how arrogant Malfoy can be."

"Alright, I'll go ahead and eat then," Wayne replied nonchalantly, bidding them farewell and leaving.

Not paying much attention to these trivial matters, Wayne contemplated mentioning Malfoy's possible tricks and warning Harry and Ronald to be cautious.

However, he decided against it.

If Harry had taken the initiative to bring it up, Wayne would have certainly mentioned it and urged them to be careful.

But if Harry didn't bring it up, Wayne could only hope for the best.

The auditorium is bustling with excitement as tomorrow marks the day were Young wizards in third grade and above are eagerly anticipating their trip to Hogsmeade, the only village in the UK exclusively inhabited by wizards. Though not as lively as Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade is a unique and charming place, boasting attractions like the famous Three Broomsticks.

Cedric spots Wayne entering the auditorium and asks if there is anything he needs for tomorrow's outing. Wayne replies in a hushed tone, "Buy me some ink and supplies from Zuko's Joke Shop." These items are on Filch's list and should not be brought up too loudly.

Understanding the need for discretion, Cedric lowers his voice and asks, "What do you want? Should I make a list for you?" Wayne responds, "No, just buy two of the same."

Cedric, surprised, questions, "Why so many? Are you trying to outwit Filch?" Wayne rolls his eyes and explains, "I need them for research. Don't you think I'm like Fred and George?"

Wayne taps his wand on the table and whispers, "I need a cup of black tea." Instantly, a steaming cup of black tea appears before him. The products at Zuko's Joke Shop include magical potions and alchemy props, and Wayne is eager to learn more.

Cedric promises to do his best to secure the items discreetly, wary of being caught with so much merchandise. He then asks, "How's your progress with spell learning?" Wayne responds, "It's almost done. I've got a good grasp of it."

Wayne offers to teach Cedric how to create maps on Sunday. Cedric agrees, and they continue their conversation over food.

During their meal, Wayne notices Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table, engrossed in a pile of books. After finishing, Wayne approaches her and invites her to join him for afternoon tea at Hagrid's place the next day. Hermione considers her schedule and concludes that she can finish her homework in the morning and still have time for tea.

Thus, she agrees and asks, "What time should we go?" Wayne suggests, "Let's meet at two o'clock. You can do your homework in the morning, and I'll head there after copying mine at noon." Hermione playfully slaps him on the arm and retorts, "I won't lend you my homework. I'll do it myself."

Wayne casually remarks, "Oh, by the way, you should learn the armor spell on your own." Hermione's face blushes with frustration as she exclaims, "How can you go back on your word? We all agreed on it yesterday."

Knowing he's teasing her, Wayne smirks and says, "I just changed my mind. Can't I?" Hermione scolds him, stating firmly, "No!"

"I won't teach anymore unless you give me the homework to copy," Wayne muttered rebelliously. Hermione clenched her teeth in frustration, but there was nothing she could do about it, so she reluctantly gave in.

If it were anyone else, Hermione wouldn't have willingly handed over her homework just to avoid learning new spells. But Wayne, well, he seemed to already know everything that was taught in class, so why not just copy from him?

Satisfied with his advantage, Wayne left the Gryffindor table with a smirk, brushing off Hermione's objections. He headed over to the Ravenclaw table next door.

Since Wayne had called her, Cho couldn't be left behind. Unfortunately, she had Quidditch training in the afternoon and couldn't join him right away.

Wayne looked surprised. "Isn't tomorrow Hogsmeade day? Why are we still training?" he questioned. Cho was equally perplexed. "The captain said that they would only be gone for the morning and then return for training in the afternoon," she explained.

"Well, go ahead then," Wayne replied, looking at her pityingly. His desire to join the Quidditch team grew even stronger. He was too busy breaking school rules to make time for training.

Cho eagerly requested, "If you find something delicious, remember to save some for me." Wayne smiled and nodded, but deep down, he cursed the situation. If only Hagrid had something delicious to share, he thought, he would use Quirrell's head as a chamber pot for the troll.

"Ah, sneeze!" Quirrell, who was sitting at the guest of honor table, suddenly sneezed. He sheepishly smiled at Professor Sprout sitting beside him. Flitwick expressed concern, "Professor Quirrell, the weather has gotten colder recently. Please take care of yourself." Quirrell responded timidly, causing Flitwick to sigh inwardly.

Quirrell wasn't always like this. He had come to Hogwarts as a young and promising professor, considered an outstanding graduate. However, teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed to have changed him completely. He stumbled over his words and lacked his previous courage.

No one was capable of making Wayne shed a tear. He sauntered towards the Slytherin dormitory, ready to embark on more mischievous endeavors.

Malfoy was accompanied by his two lackeys.

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

Malfoy said fiercely, "Go and see if I don't teach you a lesson!"

Crabbe scratched his head in confusion, "But didn't you say before that you were going to complain to Filch and deduct points from Gryffindor?"

"You're stupid!" Malfoy patted Crabbe on the head. "Now Gryffindor only has a dozen points in total, so what's the use of deducting a few points?"

"Besides," Malfoy raised his chin, "I am the heir of the Malfoy family. Since I proposed a duel, it doesn't matter if I don't go."

"This is unbecoming of an aristocrat!"

"How can a bastard who grew up in a Muggle family be my opponent?"

He talked a lot, but the two of them didn't understand. They just asked him who he planned to take as his assistant.

In the end, Malfoy chose the stronger Crabbe to go with him.

You won't suffer any loss in close combat.

Wayne didn't know that Malfoy had also changed because of his deception.

The traitorous temperament is still there, but when it comes to the so-called family honor, it's like a different person.

The original idea of tricking Harry also disappeared. This time the two of them wanted to have a real fight.

But even if he knew, it was just for fun.

After chatting with Cho for a while, Wayne saw Cho's friend looking for her, said hello, and returned to the common room.

Toby and Norman were playing wizard chess, and the dormitory was empty.

Wayne went to the bathroom to take a shower and washed his face three times. Then, he clicked on the lottery page of the system.

"System, lottery, let's try our luck with ten games in a row."