Percy initially did not believe that the duel would go smoothly.
But Slytherin Prefect Marcus unexpectedly appeared before him.
"Get out of the way, Flint!"
The tall and muscular Marcus stood in front of him. "Weasley, why should I listen to you!"
Both were Prefect, and their power was roughly equal.
Percy could overwhelm his opponent in academics, but he was completely outmatched in terms of size.
Are students engaging in wizard duels in the Great Hall?
Just as he looked over, Vincent had already raised his wand.
"Expelliarmus— "
Although I'm not very skilled, I've witnessed it many times in person.
Draco staggered back two steps, his wand flying forward.
"I won, Malfoy."
In an instant, the Great Hall became bustling with activity.
Vincent, Muggle-born, instantly defeated Draco, who was of noble birth.
But if we disregard one's background, the result is obvious.
The two, whose personalities, temperaments, ways of dealing with people, and attitudes towards learning are completely opposite, seem to have already decided their fate.
Draco found it hard to admit he had lost, especially in front of everyone.
Enraged, he clenched his fists and charged forward.
He doesn't need to calm down now.
He just wanted to get his revenge.
However, Vincent, with a disdainful look, easily used his right hand, which held the other's wand, to press down on the seemingly imposing fist.
Despite the incessant boos from those around him, Draco made a very irrational move.
"Get your filthy hands off me, you stinking Mudblood!"
"Fuck!" Alfred, who had been quietly watching the show, stood up angrily.
Ron and the twins were in the same boat as him.
"What does this mean?" Hermione asked James.
Even he, being of Half-blood, was completely bewildered.
Vincent didn't know what it meant, but he understood it wasn't a good word.
"Get out of my way, Flint!" Percy shoved Marcus forcefully. "Try stopping me again!"
Even Percy, who excelled academically and was only focused on climbing the social ladder, has become like this; the term "Mudblood" is absolutely insulting.
As the Gryffindor charged, a small number of Slytherin stood in their way.
"Damn it, I'm going to teach you a lesson today!"
Fred and George each grabbed a Dungbombs and threw it at the people blocking their way.
Alfred pinched his nose and walked around, then elbowed Marcus in the back as he was holding Percy.
"You damned bastard, you'll definitely be expelled from school, Malfoy!"
Marcus, in pain, grabbed Percy and rammed him.
Alfred, struck in the chest, fell to the ground.
He sat up, shook his head, and ran over with Neville.
The nearest Hufflepuff students almost all followed behind Cedric and Rolf, surrounding Draco as he still tried to pull his fist out.
Vincent thought they were there to break up a fight, so he let go of his right hand.
He tossed his wand to Draco, who had just regained his footing, saying, "It turns out that bloodline doesn't determine a person's magical abilities."
"Wayne— " Rolf hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.
"What's wrong? It's just an insult."
Cedric resisted the urge to beat Draco up and began to explain the meaning behind the word.
"This is an extremely rude form of address, especially when broken down—"
"Cedric, stop talking!"
Vincent was somewhat surprised that Rolf, who had always been easygoing, would become so angry over a form of address.
If we break down mudblood, if blood refers to Muggle-born blood, then mud, which refers to dirt, can be understood as lowly or base.
The term "Mudblood" is probably a derogatory term used by wizards to refer to people of Muggle-born.
The sudden unease on Draco's face proved that this title was a forbidden word that the Wizarding World could not easily utter.
"That's it?" Vincent had heard far more devastating titles in his past life.
"If the person who coined this term were truly capable, they wouldn't have used such an insulting method to elevate themselves."
He resorts to insults when he can't win a fight, acting like a pathetic little punk.
Where is the truth?
The truth lies within the range of the cannons.
Vincent was not angry or embarrassed; in fact, he felt genuinely honored.
Cedric and Rolf were surprised that his mentality was so good.
But upon closer reflection, they realized it was a matter of course.
"Take this kick, you stinking horse manure!"
Ron leaped high into the air and kicked Draco in the lower back.
The moment her fair, delicate face touched the marble floor, the Great Hall doors were opened from the outside.
The moment Snape, exuding a chilling aura, showed his face, the entire Great Hall fell silent.
"Stinky horse manure! How dare you utter that word!"
Only Ron remained, riding on Draco and waving his fists.
"Stop!"
Only after McGonagall yelled from behind Snape did Ron release Draco, who was about to turn into a pig's head.
"Mr. Weasley, I expect you to give me a reasonable explanation."
"Professor, Malfoy said that word."
"What word?" Quirrell, trying to make his presence known, moved slightly closer to Snape, who was blocking the doorway.
"That's the word." Ron didn't dare say it aloud, but just looked at Vincent with his eyes.
Not long after being framed, this happened.
Moreover, it seems that this whole commotion was caused by the culprit.
Quirrell was extremely pleased with himself.
Look at Snape as he walks forward; the disgust in his eyes is almost tangible.
He was really looking forward to this group of Dumbledore's men and dogs fighting each other, preferably continuing until the end of the school year.
However,
However, after Cairo, Snape very roughly grabbed Draco by the collar.
"Professor, I—"
"Shut up!"
Draco felt extremely wronged by the yelling.
The word "Mudblood" was taboo after all, and he felt it should be an act for the public to see.
Snape glanced at Vincent before turning around.
Those eyes are complex, containing many indescribable emotions.
He dragged Draco away step by step, as if he didn't care at all about the cause of the matter.
"Go back, all of you."
When McGonagall spoke, the students dared not disobey.
Quirrell looked very unwell.
If he were in charge, at the very least, someone would have to be fired.
Voldemort talks about Mudblood all the time, so what's the big deal?
"Mr. Wayne, please come with me."
McGonagall's face was somber, but the heartache in her eyes was hard to hide.
Vincent followed behind her, glancing at Quirrell with feigned surprise.
He acted as if he was very surprised that the other person was still in school.
"Damn Mudblood— "
Voldemort started cursing again.
"Master, Wayne is very calm, as if he doesn't know the meaning of the word."
"That's why I called you trash, Quirinus— "
Quirrell stared intently at Vincent's receding figure.
"My master, this Mudblood will never be an obstacle for you."
"That would be best."