Magical Studies at Hogwarts

After waiting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office for a while, Ike calmed down his thoughts.

"Professor, I'm leaving then." Ike nodded slightly at Quirrell, his eyes still filled with bloodshot eyes.

"Go back, eat more desserts, it will make you feel a lot better." Quirrell said slowly with a little expectation.

"Professor..." Ike turned around and took two steps before stopping. He turned around and asked, "See you next Saturday?"

"Of course, Mr. Strider," Quirrell replied with a smile.

Watching Ike leave, Quirrell's face was immediately filled with respect.

"Master, he left."

"Quilinas, my servant." Voldemort's voice sounded, his tone was drawn out and very weak.

"Owner."

"You are doubting my decision, Quirinus."

"No! Master!" Quirrell's body bent even lower.

"No? Very good..."

"This little wizard has unparalleled talent and is full of desire for power..."

"But, Master..." Quirrell hesitated, "He almost collapsed just now. I...I'm afraid that he won't be able to meet your expectations..."

"That doesn't matter." Voldemort's voice deepened, "This is not the most important thing..."

"Philosopher's Stone, Quirrell, Philosopher's Stone..."

"Yes, Master." Quirrell waited quietly for a long time, but before Voldemort's voice sounded again, he couldn't help but relax a little. He stood up and opened the door of the office, but he didn't know where he went.

Ike knew that Voldemort had developed some interest in him, otherwise he would not have asked Quirrell to teach him, but now he had no time to think about what Comrade Voldemort was planning.

I went straight back to the dormitory, took out the paper bag containing the pile of cockroaches from the drawer, quickly stuffed two into my mouth, closed my eyes and felt the beauty of the explosion of taste buds.

After a while, Ike breathed a long sigh of relief, sank into the soft bed, and kept tapping his head with the wand in his right hand.

Worthy of the name of the most evil and cruel black magic, Ike must always maintain a strong killing intention when using the death curse many times. Even if he is facing spiders and rabbits, the feeling of ending a life with his own hands in a short period of time still makes Ike

There is a delusion of schizophrenia.

There seems to be a pure, evil, violent personality in my body that wants to kill everyone, and it constantly attacks my own inner defenses.

A little bit, really just a little bit...

Last time, when Ike was about to lose control, it was the resistance of the magic wand that reminded him to wake up. This time, it was the magic wand that helped him continue to fight against the invasion of evil.

Every time he casts a spell, the wand will make Ike feel a touch of warmth. When he is about to fall, that soft, warm feeling seems to be surrounded by the softest thing in the world, like a slowly flowing stream.

It calmed Ike's mind.

Although compared to the reaction caused by the death curse, it was like grass or a big tree, but it also helped Ike persevere.

But what helped him the most was neither a magic wand nor a useless notepad system...

"We are the successors of communism..."

"A big river~ has wide waves~, and the wind~ blows~ rice flowers are fragrant on both sides~"

Since leaving Quirrell's office, Ike has been repeating these melodies in his mind. Somehow, as long as he thinks about these melodies, Ike will feel inexplicably calm. Although it cannot eliminate the negative effects of the death curse, it can no longer eliminate the negative effects of the death curse.

Coupled with the help of the magic wand, it is enough to make the inner defense seem shaky, but in fact it is impregnable.

After waiting for a while, Ike grabbed the paper bag and came to the common room.

Maybe it was the end of the semester, and the obsession with grades in the minds of the little eagles had awakened. There were basically no senior students, and only the first and second grade wizards were chatting in groups in the lounge.

Stuart, Terry, Michael and Anthony sat on the sofa in pairs, chatting and laughing happily. Ike also showed a smile, sat on the armrest of the sofa next to Michael, and raised the paper bag in his hand.

"What are we talking about? So happy!"

"Would you like some cockroach piles?"

"Ike Strider!" Michael jumped up from the sofa and hid next to Stewart with Anthony, "You promised us not to take this thing... Wait! You go to Professor Quirrell's

What on earth did you do in the office to make you look so haggard!"

"I just asked Professor Quirrell some questions." Ike slid onto the sofa, reached out and took out a cockroach and put it in his mouth.

"By the way, I also practiced the magic spell for a while."

Stewart nodded when he heard this and replied: "Are you still practicing magic spells? That should be because you have used too much magic power."

"Then just have a good sleep. It was the same when I performed magic spells for my family at Christmas. I was too excited and didn't pay attention to the magic problem. It was my mother who noticed something was wrong." Terry agreed.

He said, putting down his worries, "This is a very common problem. Of course, if you go to Madam Pomfrey now and ask for some life and death water, the effect will be better."

"Forget about the water of life and death." Ike shook his head, "It is said that many of Madam Pomfrey's potions were made in Potions class. Ever since I saw your performance in Potions class, I will never

I don’t want to drink Madam Pomfrey’s potion anymore.”

"That's so irritating! Hit him!" Ike's face full of disgust made Stewart and others angry. With a greeting, they all rushed forward and launched a series of attacks on Ike's ticklish flesh.

Ike lay on the sofa and kept dodging, unable to defeat the eight hands with his fists, so he had to beg for mercy again and again.

After playing around for a while, the five of them were all out of breath, slumped on the sofa and kept giggling.

Ike calmed his breathing for a while, then took another cockroach and threw it into his mouth. After chewing it for a few times, he stopped and said to Anthony: "By the way, Anthony, I remember you have boxed milk, right? The holiday is over.

I brought it back later, can you pour me a drink?"

"Milk flying!"

"The cups are flying!"

Anthony summoned the milk, and Ike also summoned his own cup from the dormitory. He looked expectantly at Anthony filling the cup and nodded with satisfaction.

"I remember you don't like drinking milk, Ike." Stewart asked curiously.

"I don't like drinking, but I just thought of a fun one and wanted to try it." Ike picked up the cup and took a sip, then put it back on the table.

"Stuart, you should know about Oreos, right!"

"What are Oreos?" Terry comes from a wizarding family, and he really doesn't know about these cookies that are popular in the Muggle world.

"A kind of Muggle biscuit, very delicious..." Stewart explained a few words, suddenly paused, and asked Ike with a look of horror, "Wait! Ike, don't you want to..."

"Milk is a very magical drink. Although I don't like drinking it, I can't deny that it is beneficial to people..."

"Moreover, many things taste better when paired with milk..."

"Just like Oreo cookies, they are good when eaten dry, but even better when soaked in milk..."

"So..." Ike threw two piles of cockroaches into the cup and watched them swimming in the white milk, with the corners of his mouth rising unconsciously.

"I'm very curious about what kind of wonderful reaction they will have. Do you want to try them? I think they will be very good."

Ike turned his head, and the smile on his face immediately froze. He was the only one left in the huge common room at some point, and even the second-year wizards ran away.

Shrugging, Ike picked up the cup and took a sip from the cockroach pile, narrowing his eyes in enjoyment.

"Well...it's chocolate milk..."