Snape wasn't a good man, but he certainly kept his word.
Even after his most painful secrets had been exposed, he still cooperated fully with Harry's training.
He'd even used it as bait - if Harry could breach his defences, he would receive more memories to fully understand what kind of man his father truly was.
Wayne only observed a few times before losing interest, having confirmed that the two weren't in conflict.
On a clear Saturday, Wayne brought Astoria to the village of Budleigh Babberton.
It was an ordinary Muggle village housing merely a few dozen families. The residents showed considerable curiosity towards outsiders, particularly two young people. Left with no choice, Wayne had to use a Muggle-repelling charm to make them ignore their presence.
The pair arrived before an ordinary house at the village outskirts. The fence at the entrance was dilapidated, the iron gate stood wide open, while the inner wooden door was tightly shut. Judging by the thick layer of dust, it hadn't been used for some time.
Seeing this scene, Astoria hesitated. "Wayne, is this really the place?"
"Even if Professor Slughorn has fallen on hard times, he wouldn't live... in a place like this."
"Ouch!"
Astoria exclaimed, clutching her head and looking at Wayne with grievance." "Why did you hit me?"
"Don't rely on your eyes alone. You're a witch - can't you sense the magical energy fluctuations here?" Wayne lectured impatiently.
"Really?" The wealthy young witch blinked innocently, then focused her senses, her large eyes lighting up.
"There really is!"
"Then try to break through it."
The girl hesitated. "Aren't we here to visit?"
Wayne shrugged helplessly. "He might not welcome us, so we have to use this method. It's fine."
"Alright then." Since Wayne said it was acceptable, Astoria didn't overthink it and drew her wand immediately.
"Confringo!"
"Reducto!"
"Descendo!"
Under Wayne's astonished gaze, Astoria directly cast three powerful destructive spells. Flames shot skyward as the entrance's protective barrier shattered violently. The path behind the iron gate extended several times its length, and the shabby house transformed into a luxurious villa.
"Wayne, I succeeded!" Astoria said delightedly, raising her smiling face to await his praise.
"R-really impressive," Wayne replied with a strained smile. His original intention had been for Astoria to find flaws in the barrier - who could have expected the girl would be so violent, directly using brute force to overcome magic.
The tremendous commotion rendered his Confundus Charm ineffective, and villagers were already approaching. Wayne had to cast another Muggle-repelling charm before breaking down the door with Astoria.
Inside, the room was in complete disarray with clutter scattered everywhere. Several flowerpots on the windowsill had withered. Further in, the scene was one of utter chaos—like someone had ransacked the place. A grandfather clock lay shattered at their feet, and a piano was overturned with its keys scattered wildly about.
Astoria gasped sharply. "Has he already been found by Voldemort?"
"I don't think so," Wayne said, scanning the room before pointing his wand at an overturned armchair.
"Avada..."
"Stop stop stop! Mr Lawrence! It was just a joke!"
The chair instantly transformed into a bald, portly old man, who raised his hands in terror.
"I only meant it as a joke, surely it doesn't warrant the Killing Curse?"
"This was also a joke."
Wayne feigned surprise: "Why would you think I'd use the Killing Curse on you, Professor Slughorn?"
"What, don't you find it amusing?"
Watching the fading smile on the young man's face, Slughorn produced a smile uglier than crying: "Amusing, very amusing indeed."
"Pfft!"
Astoria, hiding behind Wayne, snorted with suppressed laughter.
Slughorn noticed her and, after studying her for a moment, declared confidently: "The Greengrass family, am I right?"
"How did you know?" Astoria peeked her small head out curiously.
The portly old man showed a nostalgic expression, "You look very much like your mother when she was young, though you're prettier than she was, if a bit thinner."
"Thank you for the compliment." The wealthy young girl blushed slightly, feeling delighted inside, and immediately felt much more favourable towards the old man.
"Shall I help you tidy up?" Wayne asked.
"Please do."
Wayne casually waved his arm, and the furniture returned to its original positions one by one, the broken clocks and porcelain repaired, though the stains on the walls remained.
"Dragon blood? You really went all out."
"My last bottle," Slughorn said regretfully, taking out a small crystal vial and drawing the blood into it.
"A bit dirty, but still usable."
Wayne watched his actions quietly until Slughorn sat opposite them both before saying, "If it's dragon blood you need, I have plenty here, from various species of dragon."
"Mr Lawrence, this alone won't convince me." Slughorn looked at the young man's handsome face and sighed inwardly.
If only he had been Wayne's teacher at Hogwarts back in his first year—unlike now, when going would be rather pointless.
He enjoyed befriending and cultivating famous, promising students, but not after they'd already achieved success—rather during their fledgling stages, when it felt more rewarding.
Otherwise, he would have long since attached himself to Dumbledore, and the same logic applied to Wayne now.
He frequently hosted parties, inviting former students to maintain relationships, and knew full well what the Lawrence name represented among the upper echelons of the wizarding world today.
"Horace, may I call you that?" Wayne wasn't surprised by his reaction, smiling as he asked.
"Of course." Slughorn immediately said, "Then may I call you Wayne, too?"
"No problem."
Wayne nodded, "You must know why I'm here."
"To invite me to teach?" He shook his head like a rattle-drum, "This old bones can't take the strain anymore - shortness of breath, rheumatism, asthma, stiff legs. Isn't Snape doing perfectly well?"
"Or is it Defence Against the Dark Arts? No, no, no, please spare me that."
"Professor Snape is indeed very popular with the students." Wayne agreed, and Astoria lowered her head appropriately.
Apart from Slytherin students, probably nobody actually welcomed him.
"However, I'm currently implementing educational reforms at Hogwarts. He will only be responsible for Potions classes from first to fourth year going forward. I'd like to invite you to serve as the senior Potions professor," Wayne said.
"I could recommend one of my former students," Slughorn said. "What about Jonathan?"
"I've read his papers - his standard is merely average."
"Then how about Hawke? He's already joined The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers."
"Too radical, with far too many whimsical ideas. Not suitable for building students' foundations."
"What about Eppkins?"
"Haven't even heard of him. Even worse."
The old man looked crestfallen. "So basically, no one else will do except me?"
"Horace," Wayne leaned back, finding a more comfortable sitting position. "I know what you want, and I can provide what you want."
He patted Astoria's head: "It was Astoria who just broke through your methods - straightforward and direct. You should have sensed the power of that magic."
Slughorn's eyes lit up, looking at the wealthy young girl as if she were some rare treasure.
"Harry Potter - he'll also be your student."
The old man's breathing became heavy.
"And Miss Granger, my girlfriend, who recently completed brewing Felix Felicis."
Thump!
Slughorn suddenly stood up. "Are you telling the truth?"
"It's true," Astoria responded clearly. "Just the day before yesterday, I watched Hermione succeed. Wayne even gave her a potions notebook as a reward."
Now the portly old man was thoroughly tempted, pacing back and forth, utterly conflicted.
"Are you worried about Voldemort?" Wayne said curiously. Slughorn shuddered and protested, but Wayne paid no attention.
"As long as I'm Headmaster and Dumbledore is Minister for Magic, the school will definitely be safer than here."
"I'll be duelling him soon anyway. I don't know what you're afraid of."
Slughorn thought for a moment. "Headmaster Lawrence, don't you object to my teaching philosophy?"
"I'm only interested in outstanding students - I can't even remember the names of mediocre ones."
"If you could only remember pure-blood names, I wouldn't have come here today," Wayne said. "But liking talented people is human nature. You just give them preferential treatment, rather than having a prejudice against the incompetent. I can accept that."
"And the advanced classes would suit your philosophy better, wouldn't they?"
"You're quite right," Slughorn pondered briefly. "Alright, alright, I'll do it!"
He finally agreed.
"A wise choice," Wayne said happily. "Shall we meet next Monday then?"
"No problem, let me prepare," Slughorn looked around. "I should return this house to its original owners. They're currently holidaying on an island in the southern hemisphere."
"Remember to leave some rent behind," Wayne joked with a laugh, then prepared to leave with Astoria.
"Oh, one more thing," Wayne said, as if just remembering, turning back after already stepping out the door.
"Horace, knowledge itself is innocent. The guilt lies with those who misuse it. If someone inadvertently reveals something, there's no need to blame yourself for it."
"But if one knowingly withholds information... that would make them an accomplice. When everything is over, there will inevitably be a reckoning."
"What do you think a wise person would choose?"
After speaking, he paid no mind to Slughorn's completely uncontrolled expression management, taking the rich girl's small hand and Apparating away.
On Monday, Slughorn still came to the school.
However, after Wayne introduced him to the students, he immediately went to the Hog's Head to meet Dumbledore, where the two talked for a full two hours.
When he reappeared, Slughorn wore a relaxed smile, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Soon, Slughorn won unanimous praise from both students and professors with his humorous style and skilled social abilities.
Many younger students were envious, wondering why only upper years got to take his Potions class, thinking Professor Snape worked too hard and should teach fewer year groups.
...
In what seemed like a blink, half a month had passed since Voldemort's exposure. On Valentine's Day, Wayne took Cho away from the school to Yorkshire to take over the Tornadoes Quidditch team as a Valentine's gift.
Apart from the dismissed staff, everyone warmly welcomed Cho as their new owner.
Especially when she presented an entire team set of Firebolts, the remaining players jumped with excitement.
This was seven Firebolts - only four or five teams in the entire Quidditch Premier League had such financial resources.
After briefly touring the team facilities, the couple returned to London to spend the afternoon in each other's company, only returning to Hogwarts in the evening.
The moment he returned to school, Wayne sensed something was wrong.
Everyone was watching him nervously, full of concern and fear.
Just as Wayne was puzzling over this, Professor McGonagall approached him with a grave expression and told him the reason.
"Voldemort has sent a challenge."