This Hogwarts isn't normal.

After two punches, Draco's face turned pale and shaking, as if he was about to fall down at any time.

Maybe he was used to being beaten up. He quickly stood firm amid countless ridicule, covering his stomach and staring at Vincent with a cannibalistic look.

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"Wayne, is this what you call fighting training?"

Vincent was a little surprised, "It's not bad. You would have been on the ground before."

Draco slowly straightened his waist, "Bad training! You are clearly targeting me!"

Vincent shook his head, his blue eyes full of disappointment, "I didn't force you to be trained by me. If you don't want to, the door is there, you can leave at any time."

He used to be disguised as a young master, and now it is even more impossible.

But he was disappointed again, because Draco not only did not leave, but even rolled up his sleeves with a proud look on his face.

"Why are you stunned? Keep going!"

Vincent couldn't be punished.

Who would take the initiative to ask for continued beating? Could it be that they have a relationship and Stockholm syndrome?

He clenched his fists with a chill on his face, his strength being a little bigger than before.

As soon as Draco opened his mouth wide, he almost sprayed the breakfast out.

Harry shrank his head, his eyes full of sympathy.

But thinking that he had to undergo such fighting and fighting training, he couldn't help but subconsciously cover his stomach.

Vincent seemed even more surprised.

Draco did not fall down, and he still stared at him stubbornly.

The old bat really has a way to tame such a proud young master to obey.

What's even more amazing is that he has dealt with Mr. Lucius. With the character of this young master, he must have moved out his rich father long ago.

Thinking of this, Vincent was completely relieved.

Free human sandbags are useless if you don’t beat them, just don’t beat them to death anyway.

The next second, the storm-like iron fist came.

Starting from the abdominal muscles, the chest, waist and shoulders are one after another, followed by the limbs and back.

Draco didn't say a word throughout the whole process, only his eyes became more and more fierce.

After about ten minutes, Vincent stopped.

I had already vaguely seen the red and congested muscles under the custom-made tight shirt soaked in sweat. Today's training is almost over.

"Malfoy, your muscles may become sore and itchy after you go back. This is normal. You'd better have someone give you a massage."

Draco loosened his clenched teeth, "Wayne, are you finished?"

Vincent turned to Harry and waved his hand to him, "Let's go slowly and don't send it off. If you can't stand it, you can't use it tomorrow."

"Hmph--" Draco turned around, and the severe pain made his legs tremble uncontrollably.

The two younger brothers under the ring quickly took him away.

"Don't come over!" Draco pushed away their big hands and forced himself to walk out of the activity room slowly.

Vincent looked at his still arrogant back and thought to himself that he would have put this perseverance somewhere else.

"Harry, let's start the strength test."

Vincent took out the barbell you usually use for exercise from Lemay's ring.

Although the size is not big, Harry almost couldn't catch it firmly after getting started.

"Release it for 10 seconds, and if it succeeds, I will increase the weight until you can't hold on."

...

...

On the other side,

Draco, who returned to the dormitory, lay softly on the bed.

After the severe pain, he felt that there seemed to be countless small bugs crawling around in his body now.

By the way, massage!

He turned his head hard and looked at Crab and Gole who were standing by the bed motionless, "Come here to give me a massage!"

Maybe it was because of the two younger brothers' techniques that he grinned in pain after just pressing him.

"Draco, it seems like Muggle massage requires undressing, right?"

Draco stared at Crab viciously, "Fart! How can you take off your clothes after a serious massage!"

Crab lowered his head weakly, "No, one night during the summer vacation, I walked the wrong way and entered a Muggle massage parlor. The people in the small room were not wearing any clothes."

Draco's little face turned red slightly, "Are you sure you were in a massage parlor?"

"It's a massage parlor. I remember it seems like it's a rose on the winter night or a rise on the winter night or something."

Rose and rise are only one letter different, but their meaning is a thousand miles apart.

Winter Night Rose, you will know that it is not a serious massage parlor.

Draco was too lazy to pay attention to him, "Stay on quickly, remember to be gentle."

This time it didn't hurt that much.

And it was indeed the same as that bastard Wayne said, and he felt that his muscles were a little sour and itchy.

It's not uncomfortable, it's even a little comfortable. It's a damn thing.

As he pressed, Draco closed his eyes with pleasure.

At noon, he opened his eyes and found that the two little brothers were still giving him massage.

"Okay, you can stop."

He stretched his waist and smelled the smell of sweat on his body.

How could the noble heir of the Malfoy family be covered in sweat? He got up, opened the closet, took a set of clothes, rushed out of the dormitory, and headed straight to the bathroom at the end of the corridor.

After taking a shower happily, Draco stood in front of the mirror and put on his clothes.

"Huh?" He stared at the mirror blankly, then looked down at the still red muscles on his upper body.

It doesn't seem to hurt anymore, and it feels much stronger to the touch.

"The main purpose of fighting strike training is to improve the body's ability to withstand blows, thereby reducing the chance of injury, and enhancing confidence and endurance in confrontation..."

Draco recalled what Vincent said, and the expression on his face gradually changed from questioning to understanding.

Wayne's bullshit training is really effective?

This is impossible! He has not been beaten once or twice, why have none of those before been effective?

"Gu--" I was hungry.

Unable to unbutton his shirt buttons back to the dormitory.

After arriving at the auditorium, he sat down and enjoyed lunch as soon as possible.

Today I have a very good appetite, and I can get rid of a steak in just a few seconds.

Draco tapped the cup with a dining knife and gave another steak.

He felt a slight sense of fullness when he was halfway through the meal.

Where can I eat two servings? Let’s have two more servings!

After eating four servings of steaks, he felt that he was already full.

Let’s have a little more tiramisu, and a wonderful day starts from now on.

After lunch, Draco took his two younger brothers to stroll around the castle leisurely.

The students whispered when they saw him feeling good about themselves.

"Is Malfoy stupid to be beaten?"

"Not that if Vincent was really ruthless, how could he be so fast and lively again."

Draco seemed to have not heard bad things from them and came to the fifth floor happily.

I am idle, so why not go and see the training of Pote.

He came at the right time, and the warm Harry was undergoing a fight-fighting training.

Compared with the morning, Vincent's punching speed and strength were obviously much greater, but strangely, Harry's expression was not painful.

"Farke!" Draco clenched his fists tightly, and he knew that Wayne would treat differently.

...

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