As Vincent had put it in his previous life, "Are kings and nobles born to their stations?"
And Malfoy's side believed, "Kings and nobles are all born to their stations."
The "birth" the two sides spoke of was not even the same thing.
"Wayne, Wayne—"
"Vincent Wayne!" Pansy was especially agitated. "Who do you think you are?
Do you really think you're the next Albus Dumbledore?"
"No." Vincent shifted his gaze to Daphne's face. "I am myself, Vincent Wayne."
Her reaction was intense; even the hand holding her wand trembled slightly.
She might be the key to bringing Slytherin members into the fold.
As her best friend, Pansy vaguely sensed that she was beginning to waver.
Vincent took it all in. "You guessed right. I won't lay a hand on girls.
But she will."
Outmatched by the situation, Pansy wisely shut her mouth.
"Tell them I won't treat this as childish horseplay anymore."
Daphne watched his back until he entered the castle.
"Daphne, you—"
"I was lying to him just now."
Seeing her expression return to normal, Pansy secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
They had grown up playing together. How could a few words possibly change her view on blood purity?
There were plenty of friends whose family backgrounds and values did not align.
As for Daphne's true thoughts, perhaps only she herself knew them.
Slytherin's common room was unusually quiet today.
With around twenty people laid up in the Hospital Wing, only a small number of students remained.
"Damn it!" Blaise swept everything off the table in front of him.
"How could he improve so quickly?"
Marcus, who had fought Vincent, fell silent.
If he was honest with himself, he knew that duel had been little more than child's play.
Vincent had clearly had plenty of