The Killing Curse, one of the Three Unforgivable Curses, is an evil magic that does not cause any wounds but merely takes away life.
"You're saying you dodged the Killing Curse?" Draco's lips trembled slightly. "Do you know how it works, Wayne?"
"I didn't dodge."
His expression returned to normal.
Vincent slightly raised the knife. "I blocked it with a sword and cut it in half."
Draco Tennant jumped to his feet. "Liar!"
Nothing Sickle withstand the Killing Curse! You liar!
Vincent smiled without saying a word and cut off a small piece of toast with his knife.
All eyes in the Great Hall turned to Harry.
"Impossible..." Draco's hands, which were gripping the table, were trembling.
He was certainly aware of why the Ministry of Magic would do that.
By concealing the news of the Killing Curse, the wizards would not fall into panic and remember the person from eleven years ago.
Who were featured in the newspaper?
Vincent, who was somewhat well-known;
Newt Scamander Scamander's grandson, Rolf;
The Weasley family twins;
Cedric, an outstanding student in the third grade;
And Hermione is equally outstanding.
Three are true Pure-blood, one is a relatively pure Pure-blood, and two Muggle-born.
This combination is perfect for promotion; neither side can be faulted.
Draco glanced again at Vincent, who was elegantly enjoying his breakfast, and realized that he was behaving no differently than the Joker.
"Wayne, do you think you're as great as Potter?"
"No, I just need to be greater than you."
Scattered murmurs arose in the Great Hall.
The Daily Prophet's contents may be unreliable, but Quirrell is 100% confirmed to be a dark wizard.
Of the six who defeated him, ignoring the twins' mischievous personalities, each was actually outstanding in their own way.
What about Draco Malfoy?
An excellent background, an excellent family?
Many Slytherin students looked at him with a hint of disdain.
"Go ahead and pat yourself on the back, Wayne."
Draco stopped his trembling hands. "Time will tell who's right!"
Vincent didn't retort, but simply stared at him calmly.
Judging from their performances, the students generally understood who was right.
"Hmph!" Draco's face was full of resentment as he led his two underlings out of the Great Hall.
He could foresee that for some time to come, his family would probably strictly forbid him from causing trouble for Vincent.
To completely sever ties with Voldemort, he might even join the Owl Court Club.
For the next few days, Draco indeed did not cause any trouble.
Even the most outrageous thing he did was to glare at Vincent.
Hogwarts Kitchens.
"He must have been warned by Old Malfoy," Fred guessed, his reasoning sound and convincing.
The Ministry of Magic is going to start promoting them extensively, so it'll probably be unusually quiet for a while.
Vincent came out and pointed the large bowls that were following behind him in front of the group.
"I'm more curious about who will teach Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Slurp—" George looked away from the tomato and egg noodles in front of him. "Old Bat dreams of taking over classes."
"It should be him." Hermione didn't seem to have any adverse reaction.
If you can get through Potions Class, why would you be Defense Against the Dark Arts?
Vincent hesitated for a moment, then finally chose the fork. "Don't do that, Snape is quite capable."
"Merlin, please protect us from being poisoned!"
After the twins finished their pre-meal prayers, they finally turned their attention to the noodles.
Cedric and Rolf, who hadn't commented, had almost finished their large bowl of noodles.
Hermione started to struggle halfway through her meal.
It's nutritious and tastes great.
But after eating this big bowl of noodles, I have to exercise for one or two hours each time.
"What's wrong? Does it taste bad?"
"No." She lowered her head and continued eating.
"Oh, right!" Fred suddenly stopped. "My dad has exchanged all the Gold Galleons. He got £4,500 for £300."
"Isn't it £5 and Galleon?" Vincent saw the look in his eyes and knew he hadn't come to the wrong person.
What would a wizard want Muggle pounds for?
Buying food?
Or should I buy clothes?
The Ministry of Magic provides a maximum subsidy of 100 Galleon to Muggle families per year. The pounds obtained are either invested in the Muggle financial market by the Goblin or exchanged back for Gold Galleons at a low price.
As an official of the Ministry of Magic, it wasn't difficult for Mr. Weasley to enjoy additional discounts.
"4,500 pounds..." Vincent's eyes.
Even though a certain major power is on the verge of collapse, any attempt to profit from it will certainly arouse suspicion.
Even if you can't buy top-of-the-line musical instruments, you can still get your hands on a few pretty good ones.
The thought of home made him feel a little scared.
With such a large interior space, it's normal to hide some small items inside a piano.
"Oh no!" Vincent suddenly slumped into his chair.
What's wrong with you now?
"My parents wrote to me a few days ago to ask what happened, and I just wrote a little story to fool them."
"You mean..." Hermione didn't dare to continue.
Fred and George both stopped what they were doing.
"Dude, how many unsold items do you have at home?"
"I don't know the specifics." Vincent stared blankly at the ceiling. "Anyway, having one Quirrell every year is enough."
"Gulp—"
He felt a chill run down his spine from being stared at by five pairs of large eyes.
"Don't look at me like that, it makes me feel embarrassed."
Hermione's lips twitched slightly. "The Daily Prophet was quite prescient."
"That's right," George drawled, "Isn't that right? The only son of the biggest arms dealer in all of Europe ..."
"No, I didn't."
"Stop pretending," Cedric chuckled. "You might as well just put a few big stuff in the Club Room; that's much more effective than Gwent or anything like that."
"I agree." Rolf flashed the same smile. "It would be best if it had some kind of airplane or tank. My grandfather always said these things are really powerful."
Vincent rolled his eyes as he scanned them one by one. "My family owns a gun shop, not an arms company."
"At most, they'll send an armored vehicle. Do you really think my dad's some kind of military bigwig?"
He felt guilty as soon as he finished speaking.
I absolutely have to go home for the Christmas holidays next month.
Are you feeling guilty?
"No."
"You're clearly feeling guilty."
"Really, no, that's just your imagination."
Hermione's suspicious look made him feel very uncomfortable.
"Ahem—this topic is too heavy."
Vincent cleared his throat. "How about we talk about the substitute Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"
"What's so interesting about the Old Bat?" Fred scoffed. "He might be better than Quirrell, but what good does that do?"
Snape, radiating a low-pressure aura, was lucky if he didn't scare the young wizards.