Vincent recalled that one of the rooms in that corridor contained Nicolas Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone.
Its many amazing features were enough to make the bald-headed socket man, whose body was destroyed, take the risk.
Poor Professor Quirrell, he's probably already been promised several plots of land in the Wizarding World, just waiting for the Dark Lord to regain his physical form and return.
Just as the murmurs in the Great Hall were about to grow louder, Dumbledore's face once again broke into a smile.
"Before everyone goes to bed, let's sing the school song together!"
The teachers at the staff table all had stiff smiles.
Especially Professor Snape, whose forced smile and trembling lips.
Vincent was very suspicious of his performance at work, wondering if he had gotten in through the back door that wasn't closed very tightly, thanks to his Blondie's father, a School Board Member.
As long as you get on the principal's good side, this back door will be blocked immediately.
As Dumbledore waved his wand, sending long golden ribbons floating above the four heads' desks, he had already come up with countless plans.
Good students will undoubtedly have the highest success rate.
Therefore, the House Cup for the next seven years can only belong to Gryffindor.
"Each person chooses their favorite tune—"
Dumbledore smiled and raised his wand. "Ready, sing!"
All the teachers and students sang along to the lyrics on the golden ribbon.
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts"
Please teach us the knowledge.
Whether we are balding elderly people or children who have sprained their knees,
Our minds can accept some interesting things.
Because right now our minds are empty, filled with air, dead flies, and trivial matters.
It taught us some valuable knowledge.
Give us back what we have forgotten.
You just need to do your best, and we'll take care of the rest.
We will study diligently until we turn to dust.
Vincent was almost influenced by the twins' rendition of the Funeral March.
He was playing the tune of the Doraemon theme song from his childhood, and he was going head-to-head with the two of them.
"It's Blue Fatty!" The learned Hermione stopped singing after the first time.
"Blue Fatty?" Neville hugged his shoulders and shook.
He could understand the twins' antics, but Vincent's performance was even better than theirs.
With a childlike, playful tone, a few lines of lyrics were enough to sway the two remaining people.
Dumbledore even used his wand to direct the last few sections for the three of them.
Even after the three finished singing, his applause was still the loudest.
"The music," he wiped away tears from his eyes, "Is so moving, it's more captivating than anything we've done here!"
After calming down a bit, he smiled again and said, "It's bedtime now, everyone go back to your dorms."
Vincent and the freshmen followed Percy, they completely overturned their previous plan.
The interesting preface to "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" was written by Dumbledore for his student Newt Scamander Scamander.
Even though the student was forced to withdraw from school, he made no secret of his admiration for him.
This person, who appears crazy to outsiders but is actually quite capricious, might be much easier to win over McGonagall.
As Neville walked out of the Great Hall and up the Marble Staircase, he really wanted to say something to Vincent next to him.
Do you think I've been influenced by Fred and George?
"No," Neville said awkwardly, having been caught out. "I just felt like you were acting a little strange."
Vincent nodded in agreement, "Indeed, it seems my old habit has relapsed."
"Illness?" Neville asked with a worried look. "Is it one of those terminal illnesses in the Muggle world?"
"In a sense, it is indeed a terminal illness."
Hermione, who was walking ahead, secretly pricked up her ears.
Vincent shook his head sadly. "Sigh, it's been bothering me for years. It always comes on for no reason."
"What is it?" Neville raised his hand and patted his shoulder to comfort him. "Don't worry, Muggle's terminal illness is nothing to a wizard."
Vincent lowered his head dramatically, his eyes filled with dejection and resentment. "This is probably an incurable disease that even magic can't cure."
Hermione couldn't help but turn around and say, "You have to believe in magic."
"Okay." Vincent looked up and met her gaze. "Have you ever experienced a situation where you're not afraid of strangers, unafraid of other people's opinions, not worried about being laughed at, and can handle anything with ease?"
"Of course!" she said, walking beside him with a look of sympathy. "I always do this when I'm waiting for my exam results."
"Then you must have the same terminal illness as me."
Seeing her frown, Vincent sighed again, "This illness is incurable; I'm afraid even Professor Dumbledore can't cure it."
So what is it?
Hermione and Neville were extremely curious.
"Social Butterfly Syndrome".
Before the little leather shoes could land, he nimbly stood to the side.
"Thump..."
Neville's eyes widened.
That force was clearly meant to kill.
Vincent noticed that everyone in front of him had stopped, and with a strong will to survive, he pointed to the large bundle of walking sticks floating in mid-air.
"It's Peeves," Percy whispered to the freshmen as he led the way, "A ghost who loves to play pranks."
He looked at the cane Accio towards him and raised his voice slightly, "Peeves —show yourself!"
"Pfft pfft—"
After the loud, piercing sound, like a deflated balloon, came Percy's extremely calm words.
"Do you want me to go find Bloody Baron?"
With a "poof," a little dwarf suddenly appeared in mid-air.
He had a pair of evil eyes, a wide grin, and gripped the bundle of canes tightly with both hands, floating cross-legged in mid-air.
"Hehehe—" he chuckled wickedly, "So it's that annoying first-year brat! How fun!"
Faced with the sudden lunge of the Peeves, the freshmen were so frightened that they started to back away.
"Get away, Peeves!" Percy roared. "I'm not kidding, I'm going to tell Bloody Baron!"
Peeves stuck out his tongue and disappeared above Vincent's head.
The canes that hadn't disappeared with them came crashing down on the three of them.
"Yugadi..."
As soon as Hermione drew her wand and began to cast a Vincent, standing beside her, used his sturdy Alder Wand to knock them all away.
"Well done, Wayne!" Percy gave him an admiring look.
Vincent bowed slightly. "It's what I should do."
After Hermione awkwardly put her wand away, Percy nodded with considerable satisfaction.
"How are you? Are you having an attack too?"
"Yes, yes, you're absolutely right!"
Vincent shrugged at Neville. "See? She's just as hopeless as I am."
Hermione lifted her little leather shoe. "Wayne you for your kind words, Dr. Wayne."
After another "thump," she turned and walked with the little wizards to the end of the Seventh Floor corridor.
Whether Social Butterfly Syndrome are truly impressive or not, freshmen have no idea.
But Vincent, who had just enrolled, was indeed quite impressive.
The few swishes of the wand alone are something that ordinary people cannot do.
"Have you ever studied martial arts?" Harry asked, leaning closer to him.
"I learned it from my dad, who is a retired SAS member."
"Wow, can I learn this from you?"
Under Harry's big eyes, Vincent nodded without hesitation, "Of course, you'll really enjoy the process."
Can we do it too?
Neville and Ron both wanted to join.
"Sure."
Vincent was very honored to be the students' coach.
He had no idea how the future Harry managed to defeat the bald guy with the socket.
But now he's sure that Harry, who has learned to fight, will probably start with a sweeping kick and a grappling move, slamming his socket-like nose into the ground and filling it with dirt.