A ruined Hogwarts

"Owen, where are you going?"

Blaise asked curiously upon noticing that Owen was once again mysteriously not returning to the common room.

"Go to Professor Quirrell and ask some questions about Defense Against the Dark Arts." Owen narrowed his eyes and smiled. There is nothing that cannot be said. It is only natural for students to ask questions to their teachers.

"Huh?" Blaise looked frightened, "You ask him? I think you might as well read the book yourself..."

"Or have you finally found the hidden advantages in Quirrell?" His eyes widened. Harry and Daphne on the side also looked over curiously.

"Yes, his theoretical knowledge is actually very solid." Owen said the truth seriously, "After all, he is an outstanding graduate of Ravenclaw, so he always has two skills."

"If the two brushes you are talking about, one is stuttering and the other is covered in garlic...then I agree." Draco happened to stroll over with Crabbe and Goyle and commented rudely. , making no secret of his contempt for Quirrell.

"As expected of you, Owen." Harry said in a dumbfounded voice, "Back when you and Mr. Filch were able to talk, I should have guessed that sooner or later such a day would come..."

"I hope you won't be pickled when you come back." Draco frowned and said in disgust, and moved farther away from Harry, as if the other person had some terrible germs on his body. Harry also had a serious face, unwilling to even look at him.

"Well...that's a problem." Owen said solemnly, "So, I'll come back as soon as I go."

After saying that, he no longer allowed himself to be teased by a group of people, and disappeared directly into the stairway.

"By the way, I've always been concerned about how Owen manages to stay ahead of everyone in every class?" Draco said suspiciously, "He's obviously so lazy and sleeps in the lounge after every hastily done homework... …I suspect he got a lot of tips from his professors at school.”

"According to Owen, he is not sleeping, but brainstorming." Daphne said funny.

"Tch, who believes this? I can say the same thing when I'm dreaming." Draco raised his head high and walked away swaggeringly.

"Harry, you and Draco..." Pansy coughed lightly.

"What do you think of today's Potions homework..." Harry changed the topic directly.

As they were walking towards the common room, Owen was already outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

He paused at the door, took out a packet of potion ingredients from his schoolbag, and then knocked on the door.

After the last test, Owen confirmed that Voldemort's current Legilimency ability has been greatly weakened. Not only is it impossible to read other people's thoughts at any time, but it also most likely requires eye contact to function.

In addition, he has recently made great progress in Occlumency, so this time he retained the memory of his previous life. Owen doesn't like the feeling of cutting off his past life. It will make him lose a vital part of himself, which will have a great impact on him, making it easy for him to make choices that go against his true wishes.

Of course, just in case, Owen still cut off his memory of the plot. This is the necessary caution when facing the Dark Lord.

"Please come in." Shortly after the knock on the door, a faint but majestic voice came from inside the door.

Owen's hand paused in mid-air for a moment. This tone was unlike Quirrell's...

He opened the door and took a look into the office, and met an interested gaze. "Quirrell" was sitting behind the desk, tapping the table with his pale fingers, looking at him with a half-smile.

Owen twitched the corners of his mouth, suddenly feeling a bit of toothache. By the way, is it really okay for you to come out like this when you have nothing to do? Aren't you afraid that Quirrell's body won't be able to hold on? Inexplicably, I felt that Quirrell was miserable, even though he had brought this upon himself.

"Good evening, Professor Quirrell. I have sent you the medicinal materials you need." Owen smiled harmlessly, making up his mind as if he didn't know who was on the other side.

"Now that you've discovered my identity, you don't have to be careful." Voldemort's aloof eyes flashed with a look of teasing and novelty, as if he was sizing up an interesting toy.

He raised the corners of his mouth slightly, glanced at the clock on the wall, and said lazily: "As long as I don't use magic, I can still hold on for a while. Well, I'm pretty punctual."

Now that the other party said this, Owen simply relaxed. Anyway, with the oath, the other party would not deal with him at this time. Owen walked directly opposite him and placed the package of medicinal ingredients on the table: "Then should I call you...Dark Lord? The medicinal ingredients are all here. If you have no other needs, I will leave first."

"You can call me professor." Voldemort just glanced lazily at the potion ingredients on the table, then turned his attention to Owen again, and said softly, "I'm waiting for you here specially, in order to complete the vows I made. I agree to your teaching.”

As he said that, he glanced at Owen's left hand, with a half-smile expression on his face again: "I think you also noticed it."

"Yeah, it's a very hidden oath magic. I didn't notice it at all at the time." Owen touched the back of his left hand and said with a smile.

"It's just a small magic. It cannot be hidden from experienced wizards. As long as you master the relevant knowledge, it is not difficult to dispel it." Voldemort said leisurely, not caring about the weakness of this oath, "Of course. It requires a certain level of dark magic.”

"Well, I think it is very necessary to have an oath as a binding force." Owen said politely, "Ah, since you have to teach, may I help you clean up your office, professor?"

Facing the other party's interested gaze, Owen took out his wand and cast a "Clean Up" spell into the office.

The messy clutter on the corners, cabinets and tables were automatically placed neatly, the garbage was automatically packed and flew outside the door, the dirty traces on the tables and chairs were instantly cleaned away, and the dust accumulated in hidden places was accompanied by the ubiquitous smell of garlic. Rushed out of the office. In the blink of an eye, this dirty office became clean and tidy. It would be better if there were a few more lights.

Owen waved his wand and closed the door, then sat on the chair opposite the desk, pretending to be obediently listening to the lecture. Since it was a condition in the oath, he couldn't refuse it, so he might as well just be a good student, since he wouldn't suffer any loss anyway.

"I wonder what spell the professor is going to teach me tonight?" Owen said in a lively and pleasant tone, like a child looking forward to a novel toy.

Voldemort looked at him playfully, with a deep joking in his eyes: "Then let's start with... the Patronus Charm." He said casually, but made no secret of his contempt for this spell.

ha? Owen blinked.

Dark Lord, you are a little naughty.