This Hogwarts isn't normal.

Quirinus Quirrell is a half-blood wizard.

Not only does he stutter, but his body also trembles frequently, as if he is about to faint at any time.

The long scarf wrapped around the back of his head is even greasier than Snape's hair, according to the twins.

In short, even if Vincent didn't know the plot of the first movie, he felt that there was something wrong with this person.

Why did he have to go to Albania, where dark wizards are rampant, when there are so many places to travel?

After returning, he was a nervous person, and he even deliberately wrapped a very suspicious long scarf.

Vincent, who held his breath for more than a minute, surrendered.

The bald socket man would definitely enjoy it in there.

No, this man has no nose.

"No wonder..."

"No wonder what?"

"Do you think there is something wrong with Professor Quirrell?"

Neville nodded and shook his head, "He is always more normal than Professor Snape."

"Really?" Vincent held his breath again.

Unconsciously, the three of them followed suit.

"What are you doing?" Harry, who came over, quickly covered his nose.

Ron next to him didn't even dare to open his mouth, "This smell is really fucking strong!"

I could smell this smell from a long distance, I'm afraid Quirrell is made of garlic.

"Merlin's gas mask!" Vincent said and stuck his head out of the window.

After taking a deep breath, he held his breath again.

"So why did we arrive so early?" James complained and stuck his head out of the window.

Alfred pointed at Vincent, whose face was flushed, "It's you, everything is because of you!"

"Don't say it, class is about to start."

As soon as the voice fell, a large group of little lions came over.

Then the little snakes came over.

Including Hermione, these people came prepared.

"Huh, stupid." Draco walked over arrogantly.

The six people who stayed behind all gathered their courage and strode towards the classroom where the smell of garlic came from.

It was still the first row, and there were only six seats left.

Since the first Transfiguration class, this position has been a default rule.

Shortly after the class started, Seamus in the second row raised his right hand high.

"Professor, how did you defeat the resurrected zombies?"

Quirrell's face flushed slightly, and he turned his head to look out the window, "The weather is very good today."

Vincent, who had adapted to the smell of garlic and no longer held his breath, also raised his hand.

"Please go ahead, Mr. Wayne."

"Professor, who is the African prince who gave you the scarf?

My father used to be active there, maybe he knows him."

"Ah, this..." Quirrell hesitantly rolled his eyes, and suddenly uttered a long and incomprehensible speech.

"ovuvuevuevue uetuve wuvelei libago wumayikabigayi yobayeong epulu peng puevepuveno yibaye bobuleibuleibuleidobulei.ơɱ"

? ? ?

The students in the audience were all confused.

Quirrell on the stage was full of pride, "That's his name, I shouldn't have remembered it wrong."

Vincent sat back neatly.

He was sure that the possessed professor was definitely playing tricks on purpose.

The reason was unknown, but it must be related to the bald socket man.

"Professor, are vampires really afraid of garlic?"

"Of course, they will stay away from the smell of garlic."

"So there are vampires in Hogwarts?"

"Uh--it's just my personal preference."

Vincent, who was like Bruce possessed, was tapping out clues from the side throughout the class.

Even if Quirrell really encountered a very scary vampire, the other party would not dare to come to Hogwarts.

And the excuse of garlic was really used too badly.

It was like deliberately creating a feeling that made others feel that there was something wrong with them.

"Dumbledore couldn't have no doubts, so the reason why he dared to hire Quirrell was probably because..."

Vincent, who was recalling the plot of the movie in the second half of the class, finally connected all the clues together.

Dumbledore knew that Quirrell had a problem, and Quirrell also knew that Dumbledore knew that he had a problem.

Dumbledore was not afraid that Quirrell would find the Philosopher's Stone, and Quirrell was not afraid that Dumbledore would know that he was looking for the Philosopher's Stone.

Dumbledore did not know what was hidden in the turban, and Quirrell did not know why Dumbledore did not ask him what was hidden in the turban.

Conclusion: Dumbledore was setting up a game, and Quirrell was deliberately pretending that he had a problem.

It takes time to verify these speculations.

After class, Vincent actually felt that even the air was much fresher.

No matter whether Quirrell was good or bad, his plan was always the Philosopher's Stone and Harry.

If Dumbledore was the one who set up the chess game, Harry, who was responsible for guarding the Philosopher's Stone, was a chess piece.

Quirrell's subsequent performance was almost like kicking open the door of the principal's office, and then pointing at Dumbledore's crooked nose and shouting that he had a problem.

Unless the hidden bald socket man can show up after actively jumping into the chess game, otherwise things will not change.

"Vincent, what are you thinking about?"

"No, I'm looking forward to the flying class this afternoon."

"Now that you mention it, I'm starting to look forward to it, too."

Ron, who was eating opposite, swallowed the food in his mouth, "I once rode Charlie's old broom and almost hit a hang glider."

Vincent subconsciously glanced at the Slytherin table, but found that Draco was absent from lunch.

"So this is why I am in a good mood today..."

He knocked on the empty plates in front of him one by one, and then had a delicious Hogwarts-style lunch.

In the eyes of several pairs of surprise, he quickly finished it all again.

Seamus, who was about to brag about his experience of riding a broom, could only give a thumbs up.

They used to think that Ron would be the one who ate the most in the first grade.

Now Vincent, who was hesitating whether to knock for the third time, finally made them understand what it meant that there are always people better than you.

"I still have flying lessons later, so it's better not to eat too much."

After folding his napkin, Vincent realized that many people were looking at him.

"What's wrong? Is it strange to eat more when you're in a good mood?"

"No--not strange." Neville looked down at the empty plate in front of him that had already been eaten.

"Ding Ding--"

Not only did he feel that he was still very hungry, but everyone who paid attention to Vincent thought so.

"Hey, if you eat too much, you will..."

Vincent, stared at by everyone, shut his mouth obediently.

He didn't know if he would vomit while riding on a flying broom, but he knew that if he said it out loud, he would be socially dead on the spot.

"Tsk, those Muggle fighter planes can't catch up with me riding a broom--"

The only person who could brag so exaggeratedly was Draco, who had just walked into the hall.

He was even in a better mood than Vincent, "It's my first time riding a broom, and those Muggles flying fighter planes can only follow me and eat dust!"

Crabbe and Goyle immediately echoed loudly.

"Wow, Draco, you are so talented!"

"It's really a precious loss that the school doesn't allow first-year students to join the Quidditch team!"

As the saying goes, there is no smoke without fire.

These three are making such a big fuss, they must be planning something famous.

……

……