Amid cheers loud enough to completely drown out Slytherin’s boos, Vincent first picked up the Sorting Hat and politely thanked it.
“No, I should be thanking you.”
“You reminded me of many happy memories.”
The hat bent downward along its split like it was bowing.
Unfortunately, the red-faced blond classmate didn’t witness that scene.
Right now, Draco was being lifted high into the air by his two followers with absolutely zero gentlemanly grace.
“History?
Sure!
The history of getting expelled the fastest!”
That shout instantly infuriated the little lions of Gryffindor.
Fred and George exchanged sinister glances.
Without a word, both silently gripped the hidden Dungbombs inside their robes.
Far away at the staff table, Professor McGonagall stared directly at them.
Just as chaos threatened to erupt, Headmaster Dumbledore casually slipped another candy into his mouth.
Vincent noticed.
After putting down the Sorting Hat, he quietly made a shushing gesture toward him and gave a playful wink.
Step one of successfully finding a powerful backer:
Make sure they notice you.
Clearly—
Vincent succeeded.
Smiling, he quickly wrapped each twin in a giant hug before they lost control.
“Don’t act yet.”
“Our plan’s tonight.”
George whispered into his ear:
“Midnight.
Common room.”
“See you then.”
Fred leaned over.
“When the time comes, we’ll show you a big treasure.”
Vincent immediately looked curious.
Then he left.
Amid all the cheering around him, he calmly walked toward the first-year seats.
The Slytherins’ scattered booing might as well not have existed.
Little Blondie was truly sneaky.
Trying to make Vincent embarrass himself publicly?
Practically impossible.
“Congratulations, Vincent!”
Neville stood up excitedly.
“Thanks.”
Vincent humbly gave him a hug.
“Congratulations.”
Hermione remained seated, sounding somewhat cold.
She wasn’t going to act like boys did.
Vincent looked surprised.
“What?”
She slightly raised her chin.
“Did you think I wouldn’t welcome you?”
“No.”
Vincent sat beside Neville.
The twins had been right.
Girls really could become unreasonable sometimes.
Now that Gryffindor had gone quiet, Slytherin stood out especially clearly.
Draco obediently climbed back down.
When it came to changing with the wind, the Malfoys truly were experts.
At that moment, Dumbledore stood up.
“Welcome!
Welcome everyone to another year at Hogwarts!”
Then shifted toward Vincent.
“Before we begin our feast, I’d like to say a few words.”
“Namely: Nitwit!
Blubber!
Oddment!
Tweak!”
“Thank you!”
After he sat down, cheers and applause once again filled the Great Hall.
Most students looked utterly confused.
Nobody understood what any of that meant.
Meanwhile, Vincent watched food suddenly appear across the previously empty plates and elegantly picked up his utensils.
“Nitwit probably represents what Ravenclaws secretly think of outsiders—”
Hermione immediately began sharing theories with Neville.
“And Blubber is Gryffindor thinking—”
“Did Mr.
Malfoy cry?”
Vincent cut off a tiny piece of pork chop.
“Slytherins are mostly pure-bloods.”
“Of course they’d think Muggle-born students like us are oddments.”
“You know all that?!”
Hermione stared so wide-eyed that her mouth could’ve fit an entire pork chop.
“I’m not stupid.”
Vincent lifted his fork.
“If Cuckoo hadn’t delivered that letter…”
“I’d probably be attending fourth year at Westminster right now.”
“Fourth year?”
Even Neville froze.
“You mean…”
“Yes.”
Vincent nodded casually.
“I skipped grades.”
The impact of those words stunned Hermione so badly she slowly pushed her hanging jaw back into place.
An eleven-year-old skipping five grades and entering fourth-year secondary school?
For a pure academic genius buried in books—
Not strange.
But Vincent?
Tall.
Strong.
Good at fighting.
And full of sneaky tricks?
Human energy had limits.
Unless…
You were a god.
An academic god.
“Vincent Wayne…”
Hermione clutched her head, trying desperately to remember where she’d heard that name.
“1990?
No…”
Suddenly she slammed both hands on the table and stood.
Pointing at Vincent so hard he nearly dropped his fork:
“You’re the winner of the 1988 National Youth Mathematics Competition?!”
Vincent calmly dabbed his mouth with a napkin.
“That was me.”
Hermione collapsed back into her seat.
Neville, caught between them, looked completely confused.
Why would winning a math competition make someone so devastated?
Was that competition really that difficult?
Then immediately shut his mouth.
Same House.
See each other every day.
No need to offend people to death like Blondie.
“It was hard?”
Vincent nodded seriously.
“The kind of hard that practically consumed all my free time.”
“I understand now.”
Reality, however?
Vincent hadn’t even reviewed beforehand.
One of the blessings of being born in the Great Food Empire in his previous life—
Was dominating academic competitions this life.
As Vincent resumed eating, he had absolutely no idea Hermione had silently designated him as her rival.
Playboy.
Brute.
Academic failure.
All those labels were torn away—
Leaving only one.
She stared blankly ahead while mechanically stuffing food into her mouth.
Even when a nearby ghost detached his barely-attached head and tossed it aside—
Her expression didn’t change.
“What happened to her?”
After finishing his meal, Vincent folded his napkin.
Neville, whose face was covered in pudding, was about to answer—
Then noticed Vincent handing him a fresh napkin.
“Thanks…”
“She’s probably feeling guilty.”
“About misunderstanding you before.”
Vincent thoughtfully nodded.
Hermione was overly competitive.
And stubborn.
But compared to Blondie?
Far easier on the eyes.
Looking toward the staff table, Vincent noticed Professor Snape’s eyes acting strangely again.
That blazing, affectionate stare was so intense Harry instinctively reached up and covered his lightning scar.
While feeling goosebumps rise all over his body, Vincent also noticed Professor Quirrell beside Snape.
The turban on the back of his head pointed directly toward Harry.
If old Bat Snape had that kind of ability, Gryffindor’s lions wouldn’t still be this arrogant.
No doubt—
The bald plug-faced Dark Lord hiding beneath the garlic-scented turban was working his magic.
Neville still struggled folding his napkin properly when the giant pudding on his plate suddenly vanished.
Clicking his tongue in amazement, Vincent shifted his attention toward Dumbledore.
As expected of the biggest authority in school.
The moment he stood, every student became quiet.
“Now that everyone is fed and watered, I have a few more announcements.”
“At the beginning of the new school year, several reminders.”
“First-years should note that the forest beyond the grounds is forbidden.”
Dumbledore’s eyes slowly shifted toward the twins sitting innocently.
“And certain older students should remember that as well.”
“Additionally, Mr.
Filch requests that students refrain from performing magic in the corridors between classes.”
“Quidditch tryouts will take place during the second week of term.
Interested students should contact Madam Hooch.”
“Finally…”
The smile faded from his eyes.
“I must tell you all…”
“Anyone unwilling to suffer painful accidents and a miserable death…”
“Should avoid the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor.”
…