The more renowned Vincent, Muggle-born man, becomes, and the more honors he receives, the faster the so-called Pure-blood Supremacy will collapse.
McGonagall sensed an barely suppressed excitement and a little thrill in his eyes.
"Mr. Wayne, I hope you will not put those unrealistic fantasies into practice."
"That's very practical, Professor~" Vincent gently rubbed his cheek, putting on an innocent expression.
"You are the third officially registered Animagus of this century, and you will surely be able to train the eighth."
"Eighth place?" McGonagall raised an eyebrow.
"I heard that Professor Snape lost six mature Mandrakes leaves. Could they really be with you?"
"How could that be?" Vincent knew Snape wouldn't give up.
It's in the Mithril Briefcase, not with him.
"Professor, I have an alibi."
They felt no guilt whatsoever and were quite at ease with themselves.
McGonagall pursed her lips again. "The Animagus are the greatest achievement of Transfiguration."
But once they lose themselves in animal form, they will never be able to return to being normal humans.
The consequences are the same as those of the Blood Curse.
Perhaps this terrible curse was invented based on the principles of the Animagus, or vice versa.
Vincent with unwavering conviction, "Professor, I believe in myself, and I believe even more in your guidance."
"Thank you for your trust." McGonagall's lips curled into a slight smile.
"If you can master Human Transfiguration by the end of this school year, I will guide you to complete the Animagus Transfiguration starting next school year."
From the end of November to the end of June, a total of 7 months.
If Rita can do it, there's no reason why he can't.
I won't let you down.
Over the next few days, Vincent would go to McGonagall's office to practice whenever he had free time.
I didn't go to the club's Club Room much, and I didn't care much about the sales of Gwent.
Black Swan Club Room.
"Look at today's newspaper!" Draco exclaimed, tilting his little face. "That's what my dad is capable of!"
Lord Lucius hired three renowned Alchemists to create a Wizard Cards card pool that was impeccable in both appearance and function.
20 coin slots aren't enough; let's be generous and get 100.
Silver and gold are unimpressive; only platinum, diamonds, and jade can truly showcase the status of Pure-blood.
According to information obtained by a well-known journalist, the top-quality Emerald Wizard Cards has already been offered a sky-high price of 200 Galleon for purchase.
Wizards who bought at a discount on the first day made a killing.
Many people regret their decision after realizing a 200-fold return on their investment.
The Black Swan is grinning maliciously, Owl Court is a little panicked.
Vincent, who hadn't been to the Club Room in a long time, was immediately surrounded by Fred and George.
"Dude, do you know how many Gwent sold today?"
"It should be around 2000."
"No, not even 1,000."
If The Wizard Cards engage in a price war, sales will definitely be affected.
Although it's a bit different from what was expected, it's acceptable until I see today's newspaper.
"Wow—so shameless?"
Neither of the twins were in the mood for jokes, but Vincent smiled and put down the newspaper.
"They orchestrate and manipulate the market to inflate the value of the secondhand market, only to have someone else take over the property in the end."
His listless expression made the two of them increasingly nervous.
"Dude, we're going to lose!"
"Stay calm, it won't affect the final result."
"But if we don't do something soon, the Black Swan will really become Black Swan!"
"Then they'll die even faster."
Use the Gold Galleons you earn to bribe the Ministry of Magic, and then completely suppress the matter.
Vincent couldn't be happier that they did that.
It would be best to do this several times to discredit Fudge and the Ministry of Magic, so that a new magical government can be formed.
Unfortunately, a fool can't become Minister for Magic.
It's considered brave to be able to bet once; even with Dumbledore's reputation, he probably wouldn't dare to do it a second time.
But regardless of success or failure, it is the ordinary wizards who suffer.
Even if they know it's a scam, they'll simply fall into even more insane greed, or try every possible way to get someone else to take over.
Wizard Cards have always been used to amass wealth.
There is no such thing as a free lunch in the world, and it is even less likely that a lunch will be forced into your mouth.
"Insidious and vicious!"
"Despicable and shameless!"
All sorts of negative adjectives came out of Fred and George's mouths one after another.
Once a scam begins, no one can stop it.
Vincent vividly remembered a proverb from his past life:
Cutting off someone's livelihood is like killing their parents.
Good intentions are mistaken for malice, and malice is mistaken for good intentions.
He wouldn't dare do that, and he never cared whether the old men at his feet dared.
"Can't you stop them?"
"Madam Zabini gave me a whole set of Wizard Cards, and I will be seen as a beneficiary."
Fred and George went out grumbling.
It seems they intend to retaliate from somewhere else.
Vincent sat down quietly and opened a medical student textbook published by a Muggle publisher.
Although magic is idealistic, the greater one's familiarity with the human body, the more effective one will be in actual Transfiguration.
This is just the beginning. Other animals need to have a general understanding to reduce the risk of Animagus going berserk and out of control.
"Aren't you worried?" Hermione suddenly sat down opposite him.
Wouldn't it be better to further exacerbate class antagonism?
"You—you seem to have changed."
Vincent stopped turning the pages.
"Leaving aside whether I, a slightly famous little wizard, can successfully stop the gentlemen, if a similar situation occurs again next time, do you think I should continue to try to stop them?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "But if we let this go unchecked, countless tragedies will surely occur."
"I am not the Chosen One." He turned to the next page of the textbook.
"I can't save them, and I have no obligation to save them."
"But--"
"There are no buts. People have to pay for their mistakes."
If anyone is to blame, it's those who deceived them, and themselves for so easily choosing to believe.
Hermione left with her head down.
If it were Voldemort, a public enemy, Vincent would have charged at him without hesitation.
She sat back down opposite Daphne, feeling lost and disoriented, wanting to confide in her but unable to utter a word.
"What exactly did he say?"
"I don't know how to say it."
After about ten minutes of stumbling and bumping around, they finally managed to reconstruct the conversation from earlier.
Daphne took her small hand and said, "Living like Professor Dumbledore must be exhausting. I think Vincent is right."
"Was I wrong?" Hermione pursed her lips tightly, trying to suppress the sense of powerlessness deep inside her.
"No, none of you are wrong."
The world is not simply black and white; it is more often a gray area in between.
If Dumbledore symbolizes absolute white, then Voldemort symbolizes absolute black.
She raised her head under Daphne's concerned gaze. "Thank you, I feel much better."
His gaze gradually hardened, as if he were yearning to prove something.