Slytherin's situation regarding Gryffindor is...
There are also cases of Gryffindor targeting Slytherin.
This year's competition seems to be evenly matched.
Even with his good temper, Flitwick still gave each of them a stern talking-to before the class ended.
With 20 points on each side, even including Hermione's 5 points, Gryffindor is still at a disadvantage.
Vincent gazed at the four large hourglasses in the Great Hall, and his mood became very melancholy.
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff have already surpassed them.
"This gap will widen little by little..."
Neville's ramblings came true.
The next morning in the Charms class, the good-natured Flitwick simply walked off the podium, letting the two sides engage in a verbal battle that lasted for half the class period.
His smiling face had a hint of cunning.
When the snipe and the clam fight, the fisherman profits.
The seemingly laid-back Little Eagle and Little Badger all want to break the Little Snakes' winning streak.
But Professor McGonagall was not willing to continue.
So Vincent was called to the office.
"The situation is okay for the older students, but the atmosphere is too tense for the first-year students."
He stood up straight obediently and pretended to be stupid, saying, "Professor, hasn't this always been how we've always treated them?"
McGonagall narrowed her eyes beneath her square glasses. "Vincent, you know we wizards have never been good at math."
I'm quite familiar with several journal editors, and they're all very interested in purely data-driven research papers.
"Professor, the rate at which points are added shouldn't be faster than the rate at which points are deducted, right?" He continued to play dumb.
"And I also have Quidditch training, and the Owl Club has to take time out of my schedule..."
He blinked his big eyes and pitifully pressed his hand to his cheek, "Look, I've lost weight recently."
"Oh?" McGonagall took off her glasses, stood up, and looked him up and down. "Indeed, the kitchen House-elf all say you haven't been going there much lately."
Vincent chuckled sheepishly, "There are You-Know-Who lurking around the school, how could I dare to wander around like that?"
"You silly child." She shook her head, then became serious. "As long as the paper is finished before the end of the semester, it's fine."
With the 150 points from three Quidditch, do you think we can still win the House Cup, Vincent?
If I keep playing dumb, I'm afraid I'll get scolded.
Vincent pouted and agreed, "Professor, I will write a few more papers."
Hogwarts has had students who are good at math, but none have won awards before enrolling like him.
The dean wanted to win the championship through fair and square means, Vincent, as an "outstanding student," had no choice but to comply.
"Free training today."
After announcing the news listlessly in the common room, he buried himself in studying McGonagall's old papers.
It's not impossible to demonstrate Transfiguration using only data, but the workload and calculations would be quite large.
Vincent believes that Transfiguration a single object would take up most of a semester.
If we include Human Transfiguration, we'll have to wait until he learns that.
"The contribution of a paper should be worth around 100 points..."
His muttering to himself made the Little Lions practicing together feel a little ashamed.
"Focus." The smaller Hermione nimbly circled behind Parvati, pressing her small fist against his lower back.
"I lost."
Parvati turned around and spread his hands. "Seriously, you've missed several classes, so how are you still able to catch up with us?"
"Of course..." Hermione looked at Vincent's back, then stared at her intently.
"I don't know either, maybe it's talent."
I'm so envious of you!
If it were in the past, she might have said, "You're not trying hard enough."
After learning to consider things from other people's perspectives, she has become much more approachable.
Thursday, Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Quirrell no longer smelled of garlic; instead, he reeked of an extremely pungent alcohol odor.
The Little Lions' masks from last week have long since been changed back to cotton.
The pungent smell caused Draco to reduce his firepower slightly.
"Today we're going to talk about vampires."
Quirrell, who appeared to have recovered, sat on the podium the entire time.
Apart from the long scarf around his forehead, there seemed to be no difference.
While the students listened with little interest, they all felt that the class would have been much more engaging if the familiar smell of garlic had been present.
Does anyone know how to deal with a vampire?
Hermione had just raised her hand when Draco immediately made a sarcastic remark.
"Wow, it's the learned Granger again!"
He raised his hand without even glancing at the podium.
"Mr. Malfoy, please."
He stood up slowly and ostentatiously, raising his chin as if thoroughly enjoying himself.
"Vampires are afraid of wizards. As soon as I chant a spell, they run far away."
The word "they" was deliberately emphasized.
Draco's smugness even made Vincent, who hadn't intended to pay any attention, frown.
Although vampires are classified as creatures of darkness, they are not as dangerous as Werewolf.
Contrary to the movies, being bitten by someone will not turn you into a vampire.
They're just a bunch of humanoid creatures who hate garlic and love the smell of blood.
Draco said this not only to belittle Quirrell, who was afraid of vampires, but also to attract hatred.
The resentful Seamus was restrained by Dean.
"Think about our House Points, we can't afford to be fooled again."
"I can't stand it for long."
Harry and Ron's whispered conversation was also about this.
Vincent was very pleased.
The fact that the Little Lions can reflect on this shows that it has already grown a lot.
After suppressing these emotions for a few more days, it's time to release them.
Quirrell hesitated for a moment before awarding Slytherin 3 points.
He didn't care at all whether the answer was right or wrong.
After applying high-concentration iodine solution for three days, the abscesses on the back of my head did improve.
However, the pain only increased instead of decreasing.
Every time he cleaned Voldemort's half-face, which was starting to rot, in front of the mirror, the other would start cursing incessantly.
Looking for Unicorn?
He wanted to too.
But to conceal the gunshot wound, they simply applied some Dittany after removing the bullet.
Having thought this through, Quirrell, seeing that it was almost time, announced the end of class.
"Please wait a moment, Professor."
Vincent called out to him and looked him over carefully several more times.
"Professor, you recovered so quickly. It seems you strictly followed the disinfection and sterilization procedures."
"Proportion?"
"Yes, if you don't dilute it according to the instructions, it will greatly irritate the wound, and in severe cases, it can even lead to rotting."
Quirrell put his hand on Wayne's shoulder, somewhat excitedly. "Wayne, why didn't you say so sooner!"
"It's written on the bottle." Vincent feigned pain, looking completely innocent. "I thought you would read it carefully, Professor."
"Swoosh—" Quirrell watched the students walk out of the classroom, then suddenly let go of their hands as if he realized something.
"I—of course I saw it."
He instantly reverted to his timid professor self, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.
Voldemort just gave him another dressing-down in his head.