Spending time in the Headmaster's Office is undoubtedly a terrible option.
He had barely entered when the portraits of the principal, who usually pretended to be dozing off, opened their eyes and stared at Vincent.
He did nothing wrong, and he had no guilty conscience.
I didn't experience any tingling sensation on my scalp, but I definitely felt uncomfortable all over.
Dumbledore waved his wand, and the House-elf brought him hot tea and sweets.
"Professor, is this what resting is like?"
"Yes, that's true for me."
Vincent took a sip of tea with a dark expression.
There's not much entertainment in the Headmaster's Office; the only thing that could be considered entertainment is Gwent.
Winning all ten battles is too boring.
"Albus Dumbledore, you should have listened to me just now. Godric Gryffindor n't beat Salazar Slytherin!"
Principal Black truly lives up to his reputation as the least popular principal among students; he keeps interrupting and commenting for as long as he's watching the game.
Dumbledore smiled without saying a word and picked up a slippery, Jelly Slugs from the candy dish.
"Vincent, are you sure you don't want some?"
Each one has a bizarre shape; eating them will definitely give you diarrhea.
"I am absolutely certain and sure."
"That's such a shame." Dumbledore sucked the slippery, jelly-like Jelly Slugs into his mouth.
After chewing a few times, he showed an expression of wanting more.
"It tastes amazing! Students will love this candy with its wonderful texture!"
Vincent's eyelids twitched wildly.
He didn't know about others, but at least Ron didn't like them.
"Professor, shall we go again?"
Dumbledore waved at the Gwent on the table, and they were stacked one by one and put back on the shelf.
"No, let's talk about your Alchemy Shop."
Vincent perked up when this was mentioned.
In his vision, the Alchemy Shop will one day be as all-encompassing as Muggle metropolis, with only imagination able to limit its development.
"Nonsense!" Principal Black shook his head dismissively.
"What's so great about Muggle stuff? Our stuff is much better than theirs!"
Principal Dilys de Headmistress Derwent retorted to him:
"Since you hate Muggle stuff so much, why didn't you find better magical vehicles to replace the school buses when you were in charge?"
"I..." Principal Black choked.
There aren't many vehicles that can accommodate nearly a thousand students and are safe and concealed enough.
Beauxbatons was not short of money, so he used horse-drawn carriages pulled by the Abraxan horse to transport students.
Durmstrang's school bus is a magically modified ghost ship, enormous in size yet capable of submerging in water.
The Magic Institute is not a full-fledged boarding school; students under the age of 11 ride giant seagulls to school every day.
Koldovstoretz is located in the coldest central region of the Kamchatka Peninsula, where temperatures only stay above freezing in the summer and the area is covered in snow year-round.
Russians are fierce, and Russian wizards are just as fierce.
Their school doesn't have a school bus, so they have to find their own way to get to school.
They came skiing, swimming, riding bears...
Principal Black whispered in his ear:
"It's not like it used to be. Let's just give the school buses back to the Muggle and let the parents take their kids to school according to tradition."
Headmaster Dippet nearby, joked, "You old codger, you're getting worse as you get older."
"Bullshit!" Black's eyebrows shot up.
"If these parents can't even get their own children to school safely, they might as well just repeat a grade with their kids!"
That's what they say, but it's almost the 21st century now.
This is an era where even seeing a UFO can make headlines, unlike in the future where even photos of real objects will be labeled as special effects.
"Professor, let's talk about our own things."
Are you sure you don't want to try the new product?
Vincent shook his little head like a rattle drum.
Jelly Slugs have a very unique appearance and a very unique taste.
The ultimate taste should belong only to the elite; ordinary wizards should keep their distance.
More and more principals joined the argument, but no matter how loud they were, they couldn't affect the two people at the table.
"Professor, do you have any news about the teacher?"
"Don't even think about making a move on Nicolas Flamel. You know his personality."
If you had to describe Nicolas Flamel in one word, the most fitting would be "tech geek".
Having lived for over six hundred years and witnessed countless partings and deaths, I must not have many truly close friends.
Vincent blinked his big eyes.
Dumbledore amused and exasperated. "Newt Scamander and I will step in at crucial moments."
"Professor, I have a heart condition." Vincent sighed heavily.
"If I touch the interests of the International Alchemical Association, those old men will definitely kick me when I'm down."
The outside world is now speculating that it is Gwent's second branch in the Britain or an alchemy tool store.
High-quality, mass-produced goods with excellent cost performance?
I really don't even dare to think about it.
Dumbledore. "No one can do everything, not even me."
The best-case scenario is that the International Alchemical Association is frantic with worry; as for the worst-case scenario...
The Ministry of Magic might step in and put pressure on Fudge; he might just reveal his vampire side.
Vincent was not disappointed by his response.
Dumbledore was that kind of person; he preferred to believe that people would turn back from their misguided ways rather than admit that he was still stubbornly clinging to his errors.
If Voldemort hadn't suffered such a large-scale massacre, the Order of the Phoenix probably wouldn't have been formed.
In contrast, Grindelwald is a decisive person who rarely hesitates.
Without that argument more than a hundred years ago, the world would probably have undergone a new round of reshuffling long ago, and at least wizards would no longer need to hide.
"Sigh—" Amid the principals' heated argument, Vincent sighed for a long time.
He turned the teacup in front of him into an earmuff, put it on, and then closed his eyes to pretend to sleep.
Around 11 p. m., the principals stopped arguing.
There was no consensus, but the school bus was retained.
Just after midnight, all the candies in the dish were gone.
Dumbledore looked at Vincent with a rather speechless expression.
He knew, of course, that he couldn't wake someone who was pretending to be asleep, so he didn't even try.
They're all so old, wouldn't it be better to let someone else do it?
Perhaps it was Merlin's blessing, Vincent slowly opened his eyes.
"Professor, what time is it?"
"Just past midnight."
Vincent glanced at his watch, looking somewhat embarrassed.
"I'm so sorry to have disturbed your precious rest time."
Dumbledore pretended not to see the smug look in his eyes. "It's alright. I often sit alone at night to think about things."
There is no sense of guilt, especially when facing that old bastard Deng.
Vincent thumped his shoulders a few times. "Well, Professor, it's getting late. I'll head back now."
"Alright." Dumbledore's smile remained calm and composed.
Once it happens the first time, it will happen again.
I'm pretending to be asleep today, but I might actually be asleep tomorrow, and who knows what I'll do the day after.
Vincent's meaningful gaze seemed to imply that the days to come would not be peaceful.