Never Let That Old Bastard Dumbledore Get His Way
After leaving Russell's office, Vincent and Hermione returned to the sofa in the atrium and sat down.
I must keep my promises, and I must especially keep my promises to my little darlings.
While waiting for Matagot to finish work, Hermione pulled out one thick, heavy book after another from her makeup box.
Vincent picked up a book titled "History of Ancient Magic" with a curious look on his face. "What exactly did you put in there?"
Hermione smiled and put away the makeup box. "Some frequently used items."
Are these books included?
"Now it's come in handy."
Vincent was speechless.
She was better prepared than I was; it seems I need to provide her with a larger storage space.
The two flipped through the pages quickly and soon found the match Russell had mentioned.
The Triwizard Tournament was a friendly competition established in the 13th century—more than 700 years ago—by three major magic schools in Europe.
Each school selects one Champion, and the three Champion compete in three different magical events, which are held at different times each school year.
The competition will test the Champion in various ways, examining their magical talents, strengths, courage, theoretical knowledge, reasoning abilities, and ability to overcome danger.
The Champion are scored based on the quality of their performance in each task, and the Champion with the highest overall score across all three tasks wins.
Finally, the Triwizard Tournament is held every five years, with the three schools taking turns hosting it.
No wonder Dumbledore schemed against Vincent; it turns out this year's session was hosted by Hogwarts.
Moreover, over all these years, Hogwarts has won the most times, a total of 63 times.
Beauxbatons followed closely behind, winning 62 times.
As for Durmstrang...
Vincent and Hermione searched through all the records but couldn't find even a single record of their victory.
(62 + 63) x 5 (years/term) = 625 (years)
Subtracting 625 years from the year it was suspended in 1792 gives us 1167 years.
The Triwizard Tournament was established in the 13th century AD, and those few decades apart should have resulted in a tie for the championship.
Durmstrang has never won a single game?
That's the school in all of Europe that's most lenient towards Dark Magic, the one that produced the first Dark Lord, Grindelwald!
Even if they fired Grindelwald, things shouldn't have fallen this badly.
Vincent and Hermione closed the book in perfect unison.
"Are you still not interested in the competition?"
"If Hogwarts is in the lead, even if Beauxbatons wins, it will still be a tie, so whether I participate or not won't have much of an impact."
Hermione thought about it and realized that it made perfect sense.
The fact that the three major magic schools had their best students injured almost every year, and even stopped holding the competition for two centuries, is enough to illustrate the danger of the Triwizard Tournament.
If you accidentally get injured, even if it's just a scrape...
Hermione suddenly grabbed Vincent's hand with a worried expression. "Professor Dumbledore will definitely try everything to get you to participate. We need to think of a solution in advance."
Vincent patted her little hand gently. "Don't worry, Professor Dumbledore isn't a god. He can't control everything."
Whether it's dangerous or not is secondary; the key is not to let that old bastard Deng succeed.
The Triwizard Tournament uses an exceptionally powerful magical artifact, the Goblet of Fire, to select Champion.
It has a unique feature: it only ignites during the tournament and automatically goes out after three Champion are selected, until it is reignited in the next tournament.
Since it is an object, it is possible for it to be tampered with.
Dumbledore can move, but no one else can?
The two discussed the plan until the French Ministry of Magic closed for lunch.
The enthusiastic Matagot surrounded Vincent, and a few of the bolder ones even jumped onto his lap.
"Come on, get down first."
They were very obedient. The staff responsible for raising them saw this from afar and couldn't help but feel heavy-hearted, and they all began to question the meaning of life.
"One, two, three, four, five..." Vincent counted, there were 23 in total.
He picked up the Serpent Staff disguised as a cane and cast a powerful Muggle interference spell.
The Matagot look unchanged, but to Muggle they are just ordinary cats.
"Wait a moment," Vincent said to the little cuties, then went to Russell's office.
After receiving permission, he left the French Ministry of Magic with Hermione and the animals.
If you promised to play with them, then you should do your best to fulfill that promise.
Two hours isn't a long time, so every minute and every second should be cherished.
Thus, a very rare and particularly magical scene unfolded on the streets of Paris.
A young couple held hands, followed by a large group of cats of different breeds.
They didn't go far and found a small restaurant near Place Furstenberg.
The shop owner was stunned by the scene.
Then he heard the blond, blue-eyed young Britain man say, "Hello, may I have the pleasure of booking your restaurant?"
The shop owner, regaining his composure, accepted the credit card with a broad smile, nodding repeatedly in broken English, "Of course, no problem!"
He's generous and has a large group of cats with him; he seems to be a very kind-hearted young man.
Need to use the kitchen? Of course, no problem!
The shop owner simply handed the restaurant over to the young couple and went to the nearby ice cream shop to buy a cup of coffee and sit at the entrance.
He had initially thought that the beautiful girl would be cooking, but to his surprise, the handsome young man actually put on an apron, and the cats even followed him into the kitchen.
Curious onlookers asked him if he was worried about making the kitchen dirty and messy.
"What's there to worry about? Those cats are all very well-behaved and obedient."
The main reason is that they have enough money to rent out the restaurant, so even if they renovate the kitchen, they can still have a lot left over.
The shop owner's answer not only failed to satisfy the onlookers' curiosity, but actually made them even more interested.
This isn't just one or two cats, but a full 23!
Before long, the handsome young man and the beautiful girl came out of the kitchen, each carrying a plate of cooked food.
An even more amazing scene unfolded: the cats jumped onto the dining table in an orderly fashion, and the small restaurant was instantly filled with "customers".
The onlookers outside couldn't help but gasp in surprise.
"Oh my god, how did he do that?"
"Maybe he can speak cat language?"
"My God, these cats are so cute eating like this."
The people didn't leave until the cats had eaten their fill.
In the restaurant,
Vincent and Hermione finished clearing the dishes, and the Matagot immediately surrounded them.
Perhaps they'd gotten used to each other, because some of them even started rubbing against Hermione's feet.
She smiled, squatted down, and patted their little heads one by one.
Vincent, covered in cat-themed decorations, pulled a small ball from his pocket. "How about we play a fetch game?"
The Matagot's big blue eyes shone even brighter.
After they all bounced back to the ground, the little ball was tossed high into the air.
A nimble little creature seized the opportunity, jumped up, and knocked the small ball back with a paw.
Vincent reacted quickly, reaching out to gently catch the small ball and then using a little force to make it bounce up.
After going back and forth a few times, the little cuties whose bellies Hermione was tickling clearly wanted to go and play too.
She stopped what she was doing. "Let's go together."
The little cuties quickly flipped over, stood up, shook off the dust, and eagerly followed behind her.