The title of the most beautiful woman in the British wizarding world is indeed well-deserved.
Vincent thought that her son was as old as himself and often did things to get him excited.
Dumbledore came to him with a smile and said, "We are just here to take a look. There is no need for Mrs. Zabini to come down in person."
"It's necessary, Professor Dumbledore." She crossed Lucius and stood in front of Vincent,
"Wayne, thank you for taking care of my son Brace. He has been spoiled by me since he was a child. I hope you can understand."
Vincent nodded, "Mrs. Zabini, we have always taken care of each other in school. I have learned a lot from him."
"Yeah, that's great." Mrs. Zabini's expression was a little unnatural.
It is indeed difficult, no wonder the children are no match.
Lucius stepped forward and put his hand on Vincent's shoulder, "Our Draco also received a lot of care from you, and he also learned a lot from you."
Threats don't work.
Even so, Dumbledore couldn't just sit idly by.
"Lucius, isn't it just a misunderstanding between the two major clubs in the school?"
He looked toward the door rather vaguely.
There were several reporters there.
The most famous one is there too.
Mrs. Zabini tried her best to maintain the smile on her beautiful face, "As a mother, I am very grateful for your care of Brace."
In Vincent's eyes, her smile was particularly scary.
"Wayne, as a thank you, I decided to give you a set of wizard cards."
The clerk who just ran up to the second floor quickly went to the glass cabinet, squatted down, and took out a beautifully wrapped gift box from the locked drawer.
She caught it with one hand and stretched out her hands.
"Thank you for the gift." Vincent caught it, "I have always wanted a set of wizard cards."
Reciprocity is his character.
"Mrs. Zabini, as a thank you, I will definitely give Blaise a set of Gwent cards as soon as I return to school."
When she frowned, Lucius said first: "The whole set is too expensive. I heard that its success rate is not high."
"Business is business -" Vincent knew that Fudge and the others were paying attention. "This will not affect the friendship between our two clubs."
There's no way he wouldn't know about these two clumsy strategies.
If stimulation fails, so does alienation.
Dumbledore next to him nodded secretly.
What the Ministry of Magic wants now is peace, even if it's just on the surface.
It would be unwise to start a conflict here.
The sinister look in Old Flint's eyes flashed, "Minister Fudge, my Marcus was actually taken care of by Wayne."
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"Oh? There is such a thing?"
"That was last year, they came to a game."
Fudge saw his little thought, "I guess - Marcus won, right?"
"No, Wayne won." Old Flint said with annoyance on his face.
"He said Wayne's Muggle fighting skills are so powerful that he can't get close at all."
"It's indeed amazing." Fudge met those suggestive eyes, "Franz, are you thinking--"
"No, of course not." Old Flint looked at Eric, who was paying careful attention to his son's performance.
"To be able to teach such an outstanding son, Mr. Wayne must be very capable."
He raised his voice slightly and said, "Minister Fudge, I would like to invite him to serve as the combat consultant of our Flint family. I wonder if you can make an exception and let a Muggle family join the wizarding world?"
Poison, really poison.
Vincent's current fame alone cannot suppress those lonely Muggle haters.
Although I won't agree, saying it is a naked humiliation.
Dumbledore, who was usually smiling, stopped smiling.
No matter how great your background is, no matter how strong your identity is, it is useless to some wizards with extreme ideas.
They had been standing high for a long time, unaware that the snow at their feet had begun to melt.
"Franz, what do you mean?" Restman was half a second faster than Arthur.
His eyes were quite cold, "You spoke so loudly, maybe we couldn't hear you, right?"
Devine nudged his father's arm.
Clement remained unmoved and seemed to have no intention of intervening in this matter.
"I think it's pretty good, Uncle Restman." Vincent nodded confidently towards his parents.
Only by personal experience can we fully understand the extent of the malice of this group of people.
Although old Flint can only represent himself, he cannot represent all wizards.
"My father was from the SAS unit. He couldn't sleep well at night without holding two big guns."
No wizard dares to underestimate the gun blade that can penetrate Fulakan's shell.
Even those at the top.
Lucius tried his best to be kinder, "Franz is quite rude, I believe he has no other intentions."
Fudge smiled and returned his gaze to old Flint's face, "It turned out to be a misunderstanding."
"Yeah, a misunderstanding."
Times have changed,
The method of secretly rubbing things in the past no longer works.