Holding his lantern under the faint glow, Neville awkwardly shifted where he sat.
From his perspective, Hermione at the front of the boat and Vincent at the back looked like sparks were practically flying from their eyes.
If they started fighting…
There was a very high chance the boat would flip.
“Umm…”
“This…”
“We’ve arrived.”
For the sake of preserving his own life, Neville quickly pointed toward the tunnel exit ahead.
Hermione turned her head away and finally stopped staring toward the back of the boat.
Vincent raised his eyes and saw what looked like a dock built beneath the castle itself.
Back then, Hogwarts’ four founders probably built the boathouse first…
Then used magic to stack a castle on top afterward.
“Quickly, follow me!”
Hagrid stepped off his dangerously rocking boat and onto land.
Holding his lantern high, he illuminated a winding path upward.
After climbing through dark cliffs and squeezing through a tunnel Hagrid barely fit through, the magnificent castle finally revealed itself atop the flat grassy grounds.
Below it stretched a long stone staircase.
Vincent looked perfectly relaxed.
As far as physical ability went, he confidently considered himself the strongest first-year this year.
Behind him, Hermione and Neville noticed that he wasn’t even breathing hard.
Both unconsciously quickened their pace.
“Hmph.
So what if he’s athletic…”
Students like him, in Hermione’s experience, were usually the type who ranked first in everything—
Except academics.
Like fighting.
Or causing trouble.
The Daily Prophet must’ve accepted bribes before school started.
Otherwise why would they suddenly claim earlier reports about the Wayne family were inaccurate and that all three family members had spotless backgrounds?
Meanwhile, standing before the large oak doors with the other first-years, Vincent had no idea Hermione had already attached several more strange labels to him in the span of ten minutes.
Right now, he was staring blankly upward.
Two winged boar statues sat atop the gate pillars.
Hogwarts…
The Warthog School of Magic truly lived up to its reputation!
Hagrid turned around, his huge eyes practically sparkling.
“Everyone here?”
He raised one giant fist and knocked three times on the castle doors.
The doors opened slightly.
Standing inside was Professor McGonagall in emerald robes and a pointed witch’s hat.
“First-years, this is Professor McGonagall.”
“Thank you, Hagrid.”
With her usual stern expression, she fully opened the doors.
“I’ll take over from here.”
The entrance hall was enormous.
Stone walls lined with blazing torches.
A ceiling so high the top was nearly invisible.
Directly ahead stretched a magnificent marble staircase.
As the first-years followed McGonagall, the sounds ahead grew louder and louder.
The Great Hall sounded packed.
Five hundred…
Maybe six hundred people.
“Welcome to Hogwarts.”
McGonagall naturally wore a strict expression.
“The opening feast will begin shortly.
However, before taking your seats in the Great Hall, you must first be sorted into your Houses…”
The thousand-year-old school had four Houses:
Brave and daring Gryffindor.
Wise and insightful Ravenclaw.
Hardworking and loyal Hufflepuff.
And ambitious, cunning Slytherin.
Lion.
Eagle.
Badger.
Snake.
Each represented its House.
“At the end of the year, the House with the highest score receives the House Cup.
It is a tremendous honor.”
Hermione, standing beside Vincent, suddenly tilted her head and stared at him with extreme caution.
“In a few moments, the Sorting Ceremony will begin in front of all students and teachers.”
“I suggest using this time to tidy yourselves up.”
McGonagall’s gaze landed on Ron’s nose.
That black smudge had already been there on the train.
“Once everything is prepared, I’ll return immediately—”
Her eyes shifted toward Vincent.
Then lowered.
Toward the fluffy brown ball in his arms.
“I hope everyone can remain quiet.”
Pressing her lips together, she walked away.
Hermione suddenly looked sympathetic.
“The professors will probably find a way to help Cuckoo lose weight.”
“Hopefully.”
Vincent tightened his hold.
Meanwhile, the blond classmate who’d received a beating on the train approached Harry with his two followers.
“You’re Harry Potter?”
“Yes.”
Harry looked at the two boys beside him.
“Oh, this is Crabbe.
This is Goyle.”
The blond boy spoke casually.
“My name is Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy.”
Seeing Vincent walk forward, Hermione hesitated briefly before following.
Neville shrank slightly—
Then followed too.
Ron, beside Harry, nearly choked trying not to laugh.
“You think my name’s funny?”
Draco raised his chin.
His nostrils perfectly aimed at Ron.
“My father told me all Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and so many children they can’t afford them.”
Then he turned toward Harry.
“You’ll soon discover some wizarding families are better than others.”
“Potter, you don’t want to make friends with the wrong sort.”
“I can help you there.”
“So polite, Mr.
Malfoy.”
Vincent suddenly stepped in and firmly grabbed Draco’s hand.
“I wonder if you can help me first?”
“Wayne…”
Draco dragged out the word.
His face immediately began turning red.
Pain.
Real pain.
Vincent smiled warmly and tightened his grip.
Draco bent slightly.
“How dare you?
In front of everyone?”
“Of course not.”
Draco forced himself upright despite the pain.
“You’ll regret this, Wayne.”
“Actually…”
Vincent released him.
“I regretted it the moment I walked out.”
“I should’ve given you a more unforgettable memory.”
If pain alone wasn’t enough—
Vincent knew plenty of much more disgusting methods.
Draco hid his burning red hand inside his robe sleeve, his expression twisting.
“Wayne…”
“Just you wait.”
Reality had already proven something:
Even with his two followers, they absolutely couldn’t beat Vincent.
And with the Sorting Ceremony about to begin, risking everything wasn’t worth it.
“Coward…”
Ron muttered under his breath.
Vincent heard it.
He also heard Harry quietly say:
“Thanks, Vincent.”
Damn Wayne.
He’d ruined Malfoy’s alliance with Potter.
Among pure-blood families who once sided with Death Eaters, Harry Potter—the Boy Who Defeated the Bald Plug-Faced Dark Lord—might eventually become the next Dark Lord himself.
Would the Malfoys willingly miss such an opportunity?
Draco had arrived arrogantly.
And he left just as arrogantly.
But after hearing Ron begin talking about the Malfoy family history, Draco suddenly felt his hidden hand ache all over again.
“After You-Know-Who disappeared, they were among the first to return to our side.”
“They claimed they were under the Imperius Curse.”
“My dad never believed them.”
“He says old Malfoy doesn’t need excuses.”
“One glance and he’d immediately switch to the Dark Lord’s side.”
Ron wasn’t speaking loudly.
But plenty of nearby first-years heard every word.
Trembling with anger, Draco quickly forced himself to calm down.
So what if Vincent Wayne dominated the Muggle world?
This was the wizarding world.
A world where magic decided victory.