This Hogwarts isn't normal.

Slytherin's situation with Gryffindor:

The same goes for Gryffindor against Slytherin.

This year's session looks a bit evenly matched.

No matter how good-tempered Flitwick was, he still hit fifty boards each before get out of class was over.

With 20 points on both sides, even including Hermione's 5 points, Gryffindor was still the loser.

Vincent looked at the four large hourglasses in the auditorium, and his mood became very melancholy.

Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff have already surpassed them.

"This gap will widen little by little..."

Neville's scattered thoughts came true.

In the Charms class the next morning, Flitwick, who had a good temper, walked directly off the stage and allowed the two sides to start a scolding battle that lasted for half the class.

The way he smiled seemed a bit sinister.

The snipe and the clam fight, and the fisherman gains.

The little eagles and little badgers, who seem to be Buddhists, both want to break the little snakes' winning streak.

But Professor McGonagall was not willing to continue.

So, Vincent was called to the office.

"The situation in the upper class is not bad, but the smell of gunpowder here in the first grade is too strong."

He stood up straight obediently and pretended to be stupid: "Professor, haven't we always been like this with them?"

Mag's eyes narrowed under his square glasses, "Vincent, you know that our wizards are never good at mathematics.

I am very familiar with several magazine editors, and they are all very interested in data analysis papers.

"Professor, shouldn't the speed of adding points be faster than deducting points?" He continued to act stupid.

"And I still have Quidditch training, and the Owl Club has to allocate time..."

He blinked his big eyes and pressed his cheek pitifully with his hand, "You see, I have lost weight recently."

"Oh?" Mag took off his glasses, stood up and looked around him, "Indeed, the elves in the kitchen said that you rarely go there recently."

Vincent smiled coquettishly, "There is a mysterious person in the school, how dare I run around~"

"You kid." She shook her head, then became serious, "As long as the paper is completed before the end of the semester.

Add in 150 points from three Quidditch games, do you think we can still win the Academy Cup, Vincent? "

If you keep pretending to be stupid, I'm afraid you'll get scolded.

Vincent agreed with a flat mouth, "Professor, I will write more papers."

Hogwarts is not without students who are good at mathematics, but there are really no students like him who have won prizes before entering.

The dean wanted to win the championship through fair and aboveboard means, and Vincent, as an "excellent student", could only do as he was told.

"Free training today."

After weakly announcing the news in the common room, he immersed himself in studying McGonagall's previous papers.

It's not impossible to demonstrate the transformation technique by relying on pure data, but the workload and calculations are a bit large.

Vincent thought it would take most of the semester to deform just one object.

If you include human body transformation, it will have to wait until he learns it.

"The contribution of a paper should be worth hundreds of points..."

He muttered to himself, making the little lions who were sparring feel a little ashamed.

"Pay attention." The little Hermione flexibly walked around behind Parvati, pressing her small fist against the other person's lower back.

"I lost."

Parvati turned around and spread her hands, "Seriously, you missed several classes, why can you catch up with us?"

"Of course..." Hermione looked at Vincent's back, and then looked at her seriously.

"I don't know, maybe it's talent."

"I really envy you~"

If it had been before, maybe she would have said, "You didn't work hard enough."

After knowing how to put herself in other people's shoes and consider them, she has become much more approachable.

…

…

Thursday, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Quirrell no longer smelled of garlic, replaced by the extremely pungent smell of alcohol.

The masks of the little lions last week have long since turned into cotton.

The pungent smell made Draco's firepower slightly lower.

"Today we're going to talk about sucking vampires."

Quirrell, who seemed to have recovered, sat on the podium the entire time.

Except for the long scarf bulging around his forehead, there seems to be no difference.

While the students were listening to the lecture with great interest, they all felt that if the familiar smell of garlic was there, the class would definitely become more interesting.

"Does anyone know how to deal with a vampire?"

As soon as Hermione raised her hand, Draco said something sarcastic.

"Wow, it's the learned Granger again~"

He raised his hands without even looking at the podium.

"M-Mr Malfoy, please."

He stood up slowly and arrogantly, raising his chin as if he was enjoying himself.

"Vampires are afraid of wizards. As long as I chant the spell, they will run away."

This "they" is also deliberately emphasized.

Draco's complacency made even Vincent, who had no intention of paying attention, frown.

Although vampires are classified as dark creatures, they are not as dangerous as werewolves.

Contrary to the movie, you will not become a vampire if you are sucked blood.

They are just a group of humanoid creatures who hate garlic and like the smell of blood.

The reason why Draco said this was not only to belittle Quirrell, who was afraid of vampires, but also to attract hatred.

The resentful Seamus was pressed down by Dean.

"Thinking about our house points, we can't afford to be fooled again."

"I can't stand it for too long."

Harry and Ron's whispers were also about this.

Vincent was very relieved.

The little lion has grown a lot by reflecting on this.

After a few more days of depression, it's time to release emotions.

Quirrell added 3 points to Slytherin with some entanglement.

It doesn't matter whether the answer is right or wrong, he doesn't care at all.

After applying high-concentration iodine for three days, the abscesses on the back of the head have indeed improved.

But the pain has increased instead of decreased.

Every time he cleaned the half of Voldemort's face that was about to rot in front of the mirror, the other party would start to curse non-stop.

Looking for a unicorn?

He wanted to, too.

But in order to cover up the gunshot wound, he simply applied some white moss after taking out the bullet.

Thinking of this, Quirrell saw that the time was almost up and announced the end of the get out of class.

"Please wait a moment, professor."

Vincent stopped him and looked at him carefully for several more times.

"Professor, you recovered so quickly, it seems that you strictly followed the proportion of disinfection and sterilization."

"Proportion?"

"Yes, if it is not diluted according to the proportion, it will greatly irritate the wound, and in severe cases it will cause rot."

Quirrell put his hand on his shoulder with some excitement, "Wayne, why didn't you say it earlier!"

"It's written on the bottle." Vincent pretended to be in pain with an innocent face, "I thought you would read it carefully, professor."

"Gululu--" Quirrell looked at the students walking out of the classroom, and suddenly let go of his hand as if he realized something.

"I--of course I saw it."

He turned back into a cowardly professor in an instant, touching the back of his head awkwardly.

Just now Voldemort scolded him in his mind again.

……

……