A broken Hogwarts

Chapter 40 Quirrell

In the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, the flickering candlelight was extremely dim, and the windows were covered by thick curtains. Only the sound of continuous rain penetrated softly, which seemed to bring the cold moisture from outside.

The room was also filled with a pungent smell of garlic, which was much stronger than in the classroom. The surrounding furnishings were also messy, the desk was in a mess, and next to it was a crucible that had been cooked but not cleaned.

The dark residue inside made Owen want to recite a few more "clean up" spells.

It had been some time since Quirrell had returned from the Forbidden Forest, and the two people in the office still hadn't exchanged a word. Quirrell shivered in his chair, and he let out a low wailing sound like an injured animal, which sounded pitiful.

Obviously, Voldemort's use of his body caused him great burden and harm.

Owen was minding his own business as he approached the warm fireplace and immersed himself in the orange light emitted by the flame. He didn't care about the other person at all. The wet clothes and heavy mud on his body made him feel very uncomfortable, and he thought

He wanted to recite a spell to himself, but his wand had not been returned yet.

Taking out the little kitten Nizi who had been huddled in his collar, Owen kept stroking the little guy who was also shivering. What he was thinking about was the fax machine that he missed again tonight. This thing is really a trap.

Goods, it’s just that Owen didn’t find it, he almost got himself in it.

The kitten Nizi in his hand shrank into a small ball, its beautiful big ears drooped listlessly, and its long tail rested feebly on Owen's wrist. It was frightened tonight, and it was once again beaten.

Drenched by the rain, he was drooping his head and his eyes were narrowed into thin slits.

Owen held it close to the fire in the fireplace to dry its hair.

"Professor, it looks like you are in a very bad condition." Owen turned his head and looked at Quirrell who was sobbing quietly with a calm expression. He bent his index finger and popped open the pocket watch cover in his hand with a "ding" sound, and said in a soft and melodious tone.

.

"It's getting late. If I don't go back, my roommates might think I'm missing and report it to the dean in a hurry. We might as well wait until you feel better... and we'll talk." He glanced lightly.

He glanced at his own wand held in Quirrell's hand, and slowly rubbed the dial of his pocket watch with his fingers.

"No, no...I'll be fine soon..." Quirrell opened his eyes suddenly, tremblingly took out a bottle of red potion from under his desk, and poured a big sip into his mouth.

, and then started coughing in fits and starts.

It has to be said that although the previous confrontation was full of invisible dangers, he felt a tit-for-tat excitement for the first time in a long time. It was like performing a thrilling and exciting escape magic in front of the audience, which made him want to stop.

"Yes, as you said, the more cowardly and weak a person is, the less likely they are to attract attention. Who would doubt... the poor, stuttering... Professor Quirrell?

Quirrell smiled coldly, feeling very proud of what he did.

Seeing Quirrell's frozen expression, the smile on Owen's face deepened a little: "This is just a transaction, so I am cooperating with you, no, to be precise, with the person in your body.

Relationship, not affiliation. You paid the remuneration first, and I will naturally pay the corresponding price...until the money and goods are settled."

Owen lowered his eyes and looked at the unknown dark stains on the chair, and goosebumps appeared on his body. He shook his head slowly and hugged the warm kitten tightly in his arms.

"Professor, do you think you have misunderstood something?" Owen interrupted him with a smile, leaning casually against the fireplace, "If I remember correctly, I am just talking to the one in your body... then

Being, I have reached a deal. I am willing to help you to a certain extent in exchange for my life...and freedom at that time."

Quirrell coughed slightly, raised his face slightly, looked at Owen, and said: "Since you agreed to become my servant..."

"Haha, if you are willing to stand and talk, that's fine." Quirrell said lazily, the smile on his face looking weird and malicious in the dim environment.

When facing such a foolish and self-righteous guy, what you have to do is to strongly agree with him, let him be immersed in the waves of praise and forget about himself, and then wait for him to destroy himself.

"Professor Quirrell, this is the real you. It seems that your usual appearance is all pretending." Owen said with a smile.

At this time, Quirrell finally returned to normal, but his face looked paler, as if he had been seriously ill. He looked at Owen deeply, then struggled to stand up from the chair, raised his wand and pointed it at the surrounding walls.

and the window. The misty and dark mist spurted out from the tip of his wand, melted into the air and disappeared.

"You can't do this, you'll die if you waste too much time." Owen licked his lips, squinting his eyes like a lazy and cunning cat, silently examining Quirrell's current state.

"Judging from his current miserable condition, it is very consistent with the situation of his body being taken over by a ghost-like black magic creature..."

Initiative! You must have a certain amount of initiative at any time! Even if you are at an absolute disadvantage, you must not easily put yourself in a subordinate position, and you must never let others easily take control of you... not to mention the situation in front of you.

In Owen's opinion, Quirrell is really not very smart. At this time, you should seize the opportunity to rephrase what you said before and change it to a more favorable one.

Owen glanced at him. The current Quirrell was completely different from the one he was talking to in the Forbidden Forest. There was no aloof coldness or cruelty in him, nor was there that creepy yet still making him think.

Feeling of oppression.

"Well..." You are really smart! Don't you know that when a normal person suddenly becomes abnormal, it will attract others' attention? Owen complained in his heart, but he just agreed with a smile on his face.

After releasing the curse, he held his head again and gasped for a long time, then staggered back to the chair.

"The magic of isolating sound, you know, this is not a safe place for me." Quirrell let out a sharp and harsh laugh, and then pointed to the chair on the other side, "You can sit there."

"It looks very dangerous." He muttered in his heart. Quirrell's body was obviously being eroded. What if he couldn't hold on any longer and this ghost targeted him? Judging from the current situation, this doesn't seem to be unreasonable.

What might happen.

"But, what is that thing? It seems that no dark magic creature can have such a clear mind and even be able to use magic skillfully." Owen thoughtfully pinched the front paw of the cat in his hand, "This

In this case, it seems like a ghost, but the ghost has lost all its magic power, and even possession is impossible... maybe it is some kind of special ghost?"

Blindly giving in will only lead to ruthless oppression. Only by maintaining the bottom line can it be possible to negotiate terms. Even if you sell, you can get a good price. Quirrell obviously does not understand this truth.

After hearing Owen's words, Quirrell's expression turned gloomy for a moment. He instinctively raised his hand to cover the purple scarf on his head, and said in a sharp voice: "You know there is, there is... in my body..."

"Isn't this obvious? I'm not a fool." Owen tilted his head and looked deeply at Quirrell's scarf, "You guys give me a completely different feeling. I can even see that,

You have a subordinate relationship with him..."

"Of course, this has nothing to do with me. I will not go back on my word, and I have no intention of commenting on your situation, Professor." Owen's words were always gentle and polite, not overbearing. "I just hope you can convey to me that I can help."

What are you doing?"

(End of chapter)