Draco, his skin rubbed raw and red, led his two henchmen out of the dormitory and headed straight for the Club Room of a club on the fifth floor.
His ferocious smile was particularly charming, "Wayne, come out!"
Harry and Ron, who were playing cards, looked over and couldn't help but burst into laughter.
Behind that rosy little face, there is definitely a rather tragic story.
Remembering Vincent last night that he was going to reason with him, Harry laughed so hard he fell off his chair.
"Potter!" Draco's face turned even redder.
"You try coming in here!" Ron stepped forward, blocking the doorway, fists clenched, and assumed a fighting stance. "This is the Owl Court Club!"
"Get out of my way, you red-haired skunk!"
Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward, twisting their necks with a hint of disdain in their eyes.
As long as they weren't facing Vincent, they were confident they could take down any student.
"Wow!" Fred and George put down their cards and excitedly picked up a plate of Dumbledore- style candies.
"Ah—" Ron yelled, grabbing Goyle's large hand that was reaching out to him.
Human joints are fragile; they can dislocate with just a slight twist.
"Agh—" This heart-wrenching scream made Crabbe instinctively retreat from the Club Room.
"Idiot, he's just one person!" Draco kicked him back.
The Club Room is full of people who play cards; there are hardly any people seriously learning martial arts.
On the corner of the ring, Vincent glanced at the scene from afar before continuing to hit the punching bag.
He believes that once the novelty of Gwent wears off, many people will come to him to learn martial arts.
"Fuck you, Weasley!" Crabbe landed a punch on Ron, who refused to let go.
Despite the pain, Goyle slapped the opponent hard with his left hand, which was still hanging down.
The slap missed Ron; instead, Ron kicked his knee.
"Aow—" Another incredibly shrill cry.
Crabbe suddenly strode forward.
He hugged Ron tightly, his arms gripping him tightly.
Hermione, standing by the ring, was getting impatient. "Are you just going to watch like this?"
Vincent glanced over and saw Harry pounce on him.
"Although we caused the trouble, this is a good opportunity for external publicity."
"I have a vague idea of what you're going to do in the future."
He wasn't a little bit apprehensive. "Everyone should have dreams. What if they come true?"
Hermione turned her head away. "So, what is your dream?"
"I haven't decided yet." Vincent clenched his fist and sent the entire sandbag flying.
"To be a superhero who punishes evil and promotes good?"
The Dark Lord sounds pretty good too.
With Harry's help, Ron quickly broke free.
"Not bad?" Hermione's pupils focused on Goyle, who was lying on the ground, unable to get up.
"Gellert Grindelwald Grindelwald is imprisoned in Nurmengard; that man will be locked up in Azkaban sooner or later."
"That person?" Vincent jumped off the ring. "Oh, you mean Voldemort?"
Hermione seemed a little frustrated. "I never have the courage to say even a single syllable."
"Let's just use his real name instead." He picked up the sandbag. "Tom without a nose, Tom without hair, Tom without a body..."
Hearing these dozen or so alternative names, her fear of Voldemort gradually lessened.
Vincent looked towards the doorway.
The two inexperienced men could only dodge Crabbe's large hands.
"Bend his fingers!"
Harry, having received the notification, clenched Crabbe's fist.
With a "snap," my chubby index finger was almost twisted against the back of my hand.
Ron seized the opportunity to headbutt Crabbe's chin.
"Aww—"
Draco kicked his two underlings back.
Even someone as proud as him couldn't deny the benefits of fighting at this moment.
"Malfoy, are you planning to hide in the background for the rest of your life?"
Draco, of course, couldn't stand Ron's provocation.
However, the presence of a group of unfriendly card players inside, and the two underlings who repeatedly stepped back in front of them, all testify to the true level of the Owl Court Club.
But acting impulsively is not advisable.
"Wayne, I know you did it!"
Vincent was quite a distance away, beckoned to him, "Since you can't beat them, why don't you join in?"
Such an insincere invitation made Draco blush and sneer, "You dare to compare yourselves to me?"
"I did invite you."
Vincent flicked his left hand lightly, "If you don't leave, I'm going to kick you out."
"Wayne!" Draco bit his lower lip hard, then suddenly turned around calmly.
"Just you wait, my club will definitely be better than yours!"
He left, and he left with a sense of grievance.
"Chairman Wayne is awesome!" the twins led the cheers.
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, both seeing an undisguised joy in each other's eyes.
Although the process was still somewhat chaotic, his skillful defeat of two large opponents truly demonstrated his progress.
"Let's get back to the action!" Vincent hung the punching bag back on the ring.
He probably knew what Draco's club would be like.
They rely on their parents' power to win over outstanding students from all grades, following the traditional "elite" route.
The Owl Court has absolutely no entry requirements; it doesn't matter if a Slytherin student joins.
Like Dumbledore, he relied on his own abilities and personal charisma.
Although it's not entirely clear, it's estimated that Draco, and indeed the entire Malfoy family, relied on the exchange of interests and resources.
"A tightrope walker and a fence-sitter..." Vincent slightly increased the force of his punch.
Among Pure-blood Wizard, they are probably the only ones who dare to do this.
"You mean the Malfoy family?"
"Yeah." He stopped the sandbag from being thrown at him.
Hermione, lost in thought, suddenly had a bold idea.
Previously Vincent was indifferent to club affairs, but now he is working hard to take care of everything.
The Gwent he played were all made with Gold Galleons, which he had earned from reselling the Acromantula.
"Do you really want to reform the Wizarding World?"
She received no answer, only a rather calm look.
Monday morning.
A large flock of owls carrying newspapers swarmed into the Great Hall.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts professor versus Hogwarts freshmen?"
Neville looked at Vincent cautiously.
"What's wrong?"
"You're on the front page of the newspaper."
"Oh."
After more than a week of interrogation, it seems Quirrell has truly gone mad.
The moment Hermione saw the title, she covered her mouth as if she had realized something.
In her view, the Ministry of Magic's attempt to cover up the truth was once again a foolish move.
Voldemort will return one day; burying one's head in the sand will eventually come at a price.
"The rising star of the Wizarding World?" Draco at the next table asked sarcastically.
"Is it so great to take down a lousy professor who teaches a lousy defense class?"
"You're talking nonsense!"
"Jealous, huh? Dare to come out and duel?"
Even if you're so sour, you don't have that kind of ability!
A chorus of curses erupted from the Gryffindor table.
Vincent stood up calmly. "He's really nothing special, just a fool who only knows how to use the Killing Curse."
The entire Great Hall fell silent instantly.
Today's the Daily Prophet did not disclose any details, only saying that the Order of Merlin is under discussion.
If Quirrell really is a lousy professor, the Ministry of Magic doesn't need to make a big deal out of it.