Chapter 85: Quirrell

Being surrounded by a crowd of portraits is a strange thing, especially when those portraits hold little real power.

The atmosphere in the Headmaster’s office grew solemn as Headmaster Dumbledore, with his long white beard, finally raised his hand.

A floating letter spun rapidly and glided to Wizard Sean Green’s side.

Wizard Sean heard the crackling of the fireplace mixed with a bubbling sound, then Headmaster Dumbledore’s gentle voice:

“Ah—crucial piece. Let us hear the professors’ recommendations—”

Tension spread through the room; Wizard Sean remembered that the scholarship criteria were set by the Headmaster, who weighed a student’s progress and faculty evaluations together.

Wizard Sean guessed the envelopes likely contained the professors’ comments.

He hadn’t expected the scholarship review to be this formal, but it made sense—this sum of Jin Jin Jialong was no small amount.

A sharp “rip” echoed as Wizard Sean heard the familiar, stern female voice:

“With the utmost solemnity, I formally and strongly recommend Mr. Wizard Sean Green for this special scholarship…”

“He fully deserves this support and has the potential to become a source of pride for Hogwarts.”

“—Minerva McGonagall.”

“—Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and Head of Gryffindor House.”

Professor McGonagall gave Wizard Sean a slight nod, her eyes softening.

“Oh—high praise, isn’t it?”

Wizard Sean saw Headmaster Dumbledore blink.

The surrounding portraits murmured in agreement; Headmaster Everard, with his white beard, stroked his chin and nodded slightly, his eyes bright beneath the brim of his black hat.

“—Give it to him.”

At that moment, the second envelope opened, releasing a cold voice.

The entire Headmaster’s office fell silent for an instant.

The third envelope opened naturally:

“Yes, I strongly recommend Mr. Wizard Sean Green for this additional scholarship in my capacity as Head of Hufflepuff House and Professor of Herbology.

During those dark, lonely, and confining days, dear Mr. Green tenaciously found a path to life—why, as he thrives, should we not scatter a little more sunlight?

Sincerely,

Pomona Sprout.”

In the greenhouses,

Professor Sprout instinctively glanced toward the castle. She smiled broadly, waved her wand, and instantly, a gentle rain fell, soaking the roots of the magical plants. She knew that next year, they would grow even stronger.

“Hmm… very good…”

Headmaster Dumbledore interlaced his fingers as the professors’ evaluations echoed one after another.

Without exception, all professors held the young Ravenclaw in high regard; the once chattering portraits fell momentarily silent, then stared at Wizard Sean in astonishment—until—

“M-Mr. Gr-Green, of c-c-course…”

A stammering voice made Lady Dai Lisi frown; with her sharp intuition for Dark Magic, she had long sensed that this Defense Against the Dark Arts professor seemed… unusual.

The moment Professor Quirrell’s voice sounded, Wizard Sean felt a flicker of tension; though his Defense Against the Dark Arts notes had always been rated excellent, Quirrell’s thoughts were likely so fractured even he couldn’t tell them apart.

“I r-recommend Mr. Green—he is e-excellent in Dark Arts Defense. His a-academics deserve attention… he n-needs this scholarship, needs to be seen—even just once—so I r-recommend him for it…”

As that stammering voice rang out, Wizard Sean felt as if a great drum had struck him hard.

Because he knew the writer was still Quirinus Quirrell—a timid but brilliant, gifted Ravenclaw—not the twisted Voldemort.

In truth, Professor McGonagall had said three recommendations were enough.

Wizard Sean had thought Quirrell wouldn’t even participate—but the fact was, this professor had sent the letter. It was nearly unbelievable.

Far away, in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the absurd, cowering Professor Quirrell had beside him a notebook on Dark Arts Defense, flawless in every detail.

For once, his head did not ache; his vacant gaze seemed to sharpen for an instant—a brilliant Ravenclaw in distress needed help. A sudden, unexplained courage had driven him to write:

“W-what if… just… just… I’m the one missing?”

“Useless thoughts… my foolish servant! Absurd notions of good and evil…”

A dark, constricted voice echoed inside Quirrell’s mind. He clutched his head in pain.

“There is no good or evil in this world—only power. And the delusions of those too weak to seize it. Remember this—once and for all. Next time you do something this stupid…”

Professor Quirrell clearly feared this voice. He trembled, his face twisted, yet dared not even cry out.

“One wrong choice can create a permanent tragedy…”

Headmaster Dumbledore’s gaze was distant and unfocused. His voice went unheard by all, save the wind and the kettle’s gentle bubbling.

The once chattering portraits now stood frozen; so far, all seven professors had given glowing evaluations. Their scrutiny softened, then grew eager:

“Unbelievable!”

One portrait whispered in awe.

As Headmaster Dumbledore tapped the silverware, Professor McGonagall called out:

“Be silent—”

Headmaster Dumbledore rose naturally to his feet:

“Given Mr. Wizard Sean Green’s demonstrated achievements and character in magical studies, I declare—”

Headmaster Dumbledore waved his wand; a neatly packaged bag, smooth and crisp yet soft, floated to Wizard Sean’s side.

“Mr. Wizard Sean Green, you have been awarded this scholarship.”

The portraits burst into enthusiastic applause; even Headmaster Dumbledore clapped gently.

Behind the door, Sir Cadogan, who had been eavesdropping, screamed and lifted Lady Mo Li off her feet.

Inside the Headmaster’s office.

Wizard Sean caught the bag. He knew that period of gentle, hardworking, thrilling, weary, urgent Hogwarts time had, at this moment, reached a perfect close.

This was not an end—but the beginning of another story…

“When you stand at the threshold of life’s finest chapter, you will suddenly be drawn to the unknown. Child, true danger is not stepping into the unknown—but refusing its call.”

Headmaster Dumbledore smiled kindly, extending his hand slightly, gesturing for Wizard Sean to open the bag.

The moment Wizard Sean obediently opened it, he froze.