Wayne, Are You Telling Me How to Do My Job?

Harry loved his wand very much, and in his opinion, the connection between it and Voldemort's wand was not Voldemort's fault.

Of course, the wand maker can't be blamed either.

Ollivander has always used the same three materials for the core of his staff. Phoenixes are already extremely rare, and Phoenix Feather are even rarer, unlike Unicorn Hair, which is plentiful in Hagrid's Hut and could probably be found in large quantities.

Both Merovingian and Gregorovitch showed great interest in the Holly Wand.

Holly wood is characterized by its precision, lightness, and flexibility, and is often used to make weapons, symbolizing combat, protection, and the fight against evil.

After examining it closely, Gregorovitch raised it high above his head, letting the tip of the staff emit a soft glow.

As the colors change, the light it emits becomes brighter and brighter.

"A magic wand with outstanding performance and excellent stability."

His assessment made Ollivander unconsciously straighten his back.

Merovingian's focus remained on the wand's appearance, but after handling it, he first let a stream of wine spray from the tip before examining it closely.

With its excellent performance, moderate length of eleven inches, unique pattern and engraving, it was a perfect match for Harry's tall and sturdy build, which was larger than his peers.

After handing the wand back to Harry, Dumbledore stood up from the judges' table. "Thank you, everyone. The two directors of the Ministry of Magic will be interviewing you separately later. I think it should be finished before dinner."

Bagman and Barty Crouch casually took out a notebook and a quill pen from their pockets.

They have to be the referee, the photographer, and even the reporter.

If it wasn't due to oppression from the Ministry of Magic, it could only be because the two directors loved their jobs.

Bagman approached the recording equipment. "Mr. Wayne, thank you for your hard work. Leave the rest to me and Barty."

Freed from his predicament Vincent left the classroom without hesitation, under Dumbledore's watchful gaze.

Official interviews are completely uninteresting; you might as well go to the kitchen and see what's for dinner tonight.

As he was going down the stairs, he ran into Snape had just finished class.

"Heh—" A chilling laugh echoed in the narrow stairwell.

Since they've come all the way up from the dungeon, they must have come up with an excuse.

Vincent clicked his tongue. "Professor Snape, the Champion are still having individual interviews. If you want to give Harry some extra lessons, I suggest you come back tomorrow."

Snape's eyes were extremely hostile. "Wayne, are you trying to teach me how to do things?"

Vincent's lips curled up, he raised an eyebrow slightly, and looked at him with a half-smile.

"How could I dare to teach you how to do things, Professor? It's just that Harry and Malfoy have to receive my physical training after dinner, so they probably won't have time to come to your place for extra lessons."

Snape's lips twitched slightly, and his narrow, dark eyes turned venomous.

He heard footsteps coming from below and knew that the students would be coming up soon.

"Very good, you are the school's highest-ranking School Board Member, whatever you say goes."

After saying that, he quickly walked up the stairs.

Without a doubt, the Old Bat was definitely planning to stand at the classroom door and annoy Harry, preventing Harry from performing well in his solo interview.

Vincent thought about it and decided not to get involved.

He's not Harry's nanny, why should he care so much?

"Old Wen!" James ran up to him with a gossipy look on his face. "So? What's the matter you two need?"

"Didn't Colin say we were going to shoot a promotional video?"

"I don't believe it, it can't be that simple."

Vincent patted him on the shoulder. "Old James, you're really smart. Given the efficiency of the Ministry of Magic, you'll probably know what it is by tomorrow morning."

James pulled him to a corner of the first-floor corridor. "Don't worry, we won't tell anyone."

Vincent looked at Hermione and Alfred, who had followed out of curiosity, and only told them what had happened after confirming that they were the only ones around.

"The three greatest idiots in Europe have gathered at Hogwarts?!"

Alfred quickly covered James's mouth, saying, "James, can you stop making such a fuss?"

"Don't blame me. The wand testing ceremony in previous Triwizard Tournament has never been this grand. I reckon some wizards who weren't originally interested in the competition are starting to look forward to it."

Indeed, unless the Ministry of Magic has lost its mind, it will definitely publicize the gathering of the three great wand masters of Europe to a great extent.

If even a small wand testing ceremony is this grand, the actual competition will only be more exciting.

Vincent looked at the three expectant faces, hesitated for a moment, and then told them about the two directors' "wonderful" performance.

James and Alfred didn't think much of it; after all, they were used to it, and it would be abnormal if the British Ministry of Magic didn't mess things up at crucial moments.

Hermione's expression turned worried.

If she were the one in the black cloak who tampered with the Goblet of Fire, she would have taken the next step as soon as she learned of the two directors' "brilliant" performance.

"Why think so much?" Vincent gently took her little hand.

"If that person's target is really Harry, then all his actions will be aimed at Harry. The headmasters are already on guard, and he won't succeed easily."

Hermione took a deep breath and gripped his large hand tightly. "I can't help but think that if we had chosen to keep that person under control, Harry wouldn't have been forced to participate in this dangerous and unknown competition."

Vincent shook his head with a wry smile. "I didn't know things would turn out this way."

He sighed helplessly, "Why is our school always so chaotic? I just want to enjoy a peaceful and carefree campus life, why can't my small wish be granted?"

Hermione squeezed his hand tighter again. "Statistically speaking, our school is actually quite quiet, but we always seem to run into trouble."

Whether it's Quirrell in first grade, Lockhart in second grade, or Peter Pettigrew in third grade, it doesn't really have any impact on the vast majority of students.

Vincent looked up at the ceiling of the corridor, tears welling up in his eyes. "So you're saying we're lucky? We always run into these kinds of terrible things. We're just incredibly unlucky."

Hermione didn't know what to say.

According to probability theory, the chance of encountering it every time is less than one in ten thousand.

If I had to explain it, I could only say it's bad luck from a metaphysical perspective.

"Sigh..." The two sighed in unison.

Life goes on, and bad luck can't last forever.

"Old James, Afu, do you want to come along—" Vincent froze the moment he turned around.

The corridor was empty; James and Alfred were nowhere to be seen.

They probably sensed the awkward atmosphere and knew that staying would make them a third wheel, so they quietly left.