Vincent was awakened by his three roommates.
Before eight o'clock, they were already shouting about crushing Slytherin and branding this humiliation deep into Snape's teaching career.
"Didn't we already shut them out once last time?"
"Ah—" Neville jumped at the sudden voice.
He turned around in alarm and found Vincent sitting up in bed, stretching.
"We didn't wake you, did we?"
"What do you think?"
Luckily, Vincent did not have a temper when he woke up. Otherwise, given his habit of never waking before mealtime, the three of them would probably have ended up hanging from the dormitory door.
"Since you're awake, do you want to head over early?"
Under the expectant gazes of three pairs of little eyes, he threw off the covers and jumped onto the floor.
"Let's go. We probably won't need to queue today."
Hermione was the logistics manager of the Owl Court Club, and more than half of Gryffindor's students were already using toothbrushes.
"Magic can regrow your teeth, but you definitely won't like how that feels."
With her own personal testimony backing it up, the Cleaning Charm was now mostly used on toothbrushes.
But brushing their teeth in the dormitory always felt strange, so McGonagall had given the Gryffindor dorm showers a small-scale renovation.
The space had been doubled, and an entire row of washbasins had been added.
Using them felt no different from an ordinary Muggle school.
The four had barely entered when Harry and Ron, already washed up, came out from inside.
"Good luck, Vincent!"
Vincent rolled up the sleeve of his Blue Fatty pajamas, revealing well-proportioned arm muscles. "Flint's are all dead muscles. They only look scary."
Military-style training placed great importance on coordination, so in Britain, where gentlemanly manners were valued, hulking men as exaggerated as Uncle Sam's were rarely seen.
"Tomorrow—no, the day after tomorrow." He glanced at his three roommates, then at the somewhat skinny pair.
"If you want, I can teach you my dad's training methods."
Harry was very interested. "I'm in!"
Seeing his best friend agree, Ron had no reason to refuse.
"See you on the pitch.".biqugé
"Yeah, see you on the pitch."
The four of them washed up quickly, and in less than five minutes, they looked much more awake.
Neville had just wanted to remind Vincent that there was still toothpaste at the corner of his mouth when he caught James and Alfred giving him meaningful looks.
Under normal circumstances, that would not have happened.
He could only be a little absent-minded, probably worried about the upcoming "friendly exchange."
When they arrived in the common room, they found the twins and Hermione waiting as though they had been there for ages.
"How long have you been waiting?"
"We just got here." George held back a laugh.
Fred was the same. "Miss Know-It-All got here before us. I think—"
"I got here a little earlier than them." Hermione looked somewhat anxious. "Come on, time's almost up."
Vincent looked at the watch on his wrist. "It's only eight-thirty. We still have plenty of—"
"Come on, come on~" The twins pushed him forward.
"Why are you in such a hurry?"
"We want to see Flint's smug little face. After all, this might be our last chance~"
"You two have very strange tastes."
Hermione, who had been walking at the back, suddenly jogged forward.
She ignored the four pleading looks. "There's toothpaste at the left corner of your mouth."
Vincent gently wiped it away. "Thanks."
Then he turned back toward this bunch of terrible friends.
Neville was terrified under his stare. "Sorry, it was all them—"
"Forget it. I have a good memory anyway. None of you are getting away."
Even Fred and George felt a little uneasy when he said it so casually.
Wayne never put off revenge until the next day.
They ate breakfast in considerable fear and trepidation.
Vincent was in a great mood and even had an extra sandwich.
"Why do you think that is?" Alfred leaned closer to Hermione. "It's the first time I've seen him be this careless."
"Please, he isn't a robot."
"I know that. You don't need to explain."
Her expression was slightly unnatural. "You know he has ways to deal with curses. I think he's probably figuring out how to beat Flint up badly."
"That makes sense."
The moment Alfred left, her expression became even more unnatural.
If she had guessed correctly, Vincent was probably considering something very important to him.
Muggle-born young wizards had extremely limited access to magic.
If he could learn everything Flint knew in one go...
Hermione quickly shook her little head and looked away from Vincent, who was staring at the ceiling.
That would be very difficult, even if his learning ability was better than hers.
But given his personality, it really was quite possible.
Time passed bit by bit, and soon it was nine-thirty.
There were not many students left in the Great Hall, but today's two main characters were still there.
From afar, Marcus gave a thumbs-up, then viciously drew it across his own throat.
"He's actually going to slit his throat later. So brave~"
"Flint truly is Slytherin's gorilla captain. His brain structure is probably not much different from a gorilla's~"
The twins' drawn-out tone made Draco, who often spoke that way himself, freeze with a smile on his face.
Bet!
Today, he would bet on Vincent suffering a crushing defeat!
If McGonagall had not shut down the betting pool, that was.
"Heh—we're leaving!"
Several Slytherins swaggered out of the Great Hall.
Cho and Marietta walked over.
"Do your best, Vincent!"
"Thanks. They won't be the ones laughing in the end."
Hermione frowned slightly.
She had been right after all.
Vincent casually chatted with the two girls for a few moments, then walked forward under Percy's slightly impatient gaze.
"Vice President, isn't this a bit much?"
The "friendly exchange" between the two clubs was the perfect chance to recruit new members.
Every student standing behind Percy held a flag bearing the Owl Court emblem.
The three-year term had arrived. All President Wayne needed to do was raise his arm and shout, and all of Gryffindor...
The enthusiasm was too much. Vincent was already feeling seriously uncomfortable.
"The timing was a little tight. Give me another half day and I could rush out a batch of specially tailored uniforms."
If one ignored certain flaws in Percy, he really was, in some ways, the best choice for vice president.
"Is the event budget still enough?"
"It's enough.
"But can't you really tell me where this money comes from?"
Vincent stopped before the Great Hall doors. "That's my little secret, Vice President Percy."
When it was time to be forceful, he needed to show some force.
Percy nodded thoughtfully. "As long as it was obtained through legitimate means."
Vincent pushed open the doors. "There may not be any receipts, but I can guarantee it's completely proper and legal."
With Dumbledore's authorization and Snape's example to learn from, he was merely using the little darlings to create new value.
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