Chapter 65: Professor Quirrell

When Allen returned to the Gryffindor common room, he found Hermione had come back and was enthusiastically chatting with Harry and Ron about various Christmas anecdotes; he quickly joined in.

Then she began worrying that her friends had been wandering through the castle for three consecutive nights over a mirror.

Allen silently scoffed inside, thinking Hermione was worried they might get Gryffindor docked more points.

Then Hermione grew angry that the three of them hadn’t figured out who Nicolas Flamel was; all three, who had ignored the matter entirely over Christmas break, felt guilty and avoided meeting her gaze.

After the break, they resumed using their free periods to search the library for information on Nicolas Flamel, but Allen felt this was pointless and began using the time to study Ancient Runes instead.

Unexpectedly, on a bright afternoon, Harry suddenly ran over excitedly to tell Allen he had found out who Nicolas Flamel was; Hermione handed him an open book, the page showing a brief biography of Nicolas Flamel.

“So the giant dog on the fourth floor is guarding the Philosopher’s Stone?” Allen quickly read through the pages.

“Yes! I bet Nicolas Flamel asked Dumbledore to keep the Philosopher’s Stone for him!” Ron declared confidently.

“A stone that can turn metal into gold and grant immortality,” Harry said. “No wonder Snape wants it—everyone wants it.”

Allen found himself convinced, because he wanted it too. ε=(′ο｀*))) Sigh. It was all because he was poor.

Allen suddenly thought Professor Quirrell was also suspicious—he’d once said he didn’t have much time left, and maybe he wanted the Philosopher’s Stone to extend his life. But Allen quickly dismissed the idea; Quirrell showed more interest in news from the Forbidden Forest and had never displayed any curiosity about the fourth floor.

So Snape remained the more likely suspect.

The second Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, was set to begin in the afternoon.

The weather was slightly overcast, but visibility was good; few clouds filled the sky, and no rain was coming.

A week earlier, Harry had received bad news: Snape would be the referee. This made Ron and Hermione anxious, fearing Snape might cast spells on Harry during the match, so they kept asking Allen for lessons on the Leg-Locker Curse, planning to strike first if Snape tried anything.

Allen found this idea strange—Snape would never dare cast a harmful spell on a student in front of everyone.

But he always welcomed the protagonists’ efforts to improve their combat skills, so he enthusiastically trained them in the Leg-Locker Curse.

On match day, Hermione assigned him a task: stay at the edge of the Quidditch pitch and, if Harry fell off his broom, immediately cast a Levitation Charm on him.

Harry was also instructed by Hermione to carry his wand during the match and, if anything seemed wrong, cast a Levitation Charm on himself and jump straight down.

Allen was stunned by Hermione’s frantic energy; he hadn’t realized she could be this way.

But none of their preparations were needed—they saw the unmistakable white beard on the stands: Albus Dumbledore. With him present, everyone relaxed; all believed no one could cheat under Dumbledore’s watch.

Freed from worry, Harry performed brilliantly and won the match quickly.

After the match, Harry discovered Snape threatening Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest, which strongly confirmed that Snape was the mastermind—but Allen still felt uneasy inside.

Allen’s study of Dark Magic continued; he struggled with the Fiendfyre Curse, mainly because he had no suitable place to practice.

The fire summoned by the Fiendfyre Curse was too powerful,

easily igniting everything around it, so he dared not practice it in Hogwarts or the Forbidden Forest—his past-life memories of fire safety campaigns still lingered vividly: slogans like “One spark on the mountain, police station at the bottom” were etched in his mind.

This forced him to practice only in Quirrell’s office, where, if a fire broke out, Quirrell could control the situation—so his progress with the spell remained painfully slow.

Allen liked the spell, but not for its offensive power; he liked the idea of using it as a rear-guard tactic to buy himself time to escape.

Having learned two Dark Magic spells, Allen began questioning the distinction between Light and Dark Magic—these spells didn’t seem so bad; he couldn’t see anything inherently evil about them.

Professor Quirrell finally grew suspicious of the endless Ancient Runes Allen kept producing; eventually, Allen explained he’d bought an old book full of Ancient Runes from a stall in Diagon Alley.

Though Quirrell looked deeply unconvinced, he seemed uninterested in the matter and let it pass.

In the following weeks, Quirrell rapidly grew thinner and paler.

Harry speculated this was due to constant threats from Snape, since he’d witnessed Snape intimidating Quirrell weeks earlier.

But Allen, who knew Quirrell better, doubted this explanation—he remembered Quirrell’s earlier mention of his health problems.

Had Quirrell not been lying to him back then? Allen’s certainty began to waver.

In recent weeks, Quirrell’s teaching had grown increasingly agitated; his hunger for news from the Forbidden Forest became unmistakable—each class began with him grabbing Allen to interrogate him about the previous day’s observations.

The smell of potions in his office grew stronger too; Allen guessed this was due to his deteriorating health, which explained his growing impatience.

Watching Quirrell grow steadily weaker day by day, Allen began to feel a desire to help him.

But Allen’s recent patrols of the Forbidden Forest had yielded no useful clues, so he remained powerless to act.

Another Saturday night: as soon as Allen entered Quirrell’s office, he was pulled aside to report on the previous day’s Forbidden Forest observations. Quirrell listened, received only disappointment, and grew even more agitated.

He had no energy left to tutor Allen, so today’s lesson ended earlier than usual.

Allen sensed Quirrell’s foul mood and dared not speak, quietly continuing to practice Fiendfyre beside him.

Quirrell gradually calmed down, retreated back into the shadows, and watched Allen diligently practicing the spell—until he noticed a book Allen had brought. The spine bore the title: The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord. Instantly, he became interested.

He stepped out of the darkness, picked up the book, flipped through it hastily, and let out a cold snort.

Allen immediately noticed Quirrell’s reaction and stopped practicing—the book was borrowed from the library; lately, he’d felt a sudden urge to learn more about Voldemort.

“Why have you suddenly started reading this kind of book?” Quirrell asked Allen in a low voice.

“I think Voldemort is an unavoidable figure in modern history, so I wanted to learn more. I’ve read many books about him lately,” Allen replied quickly, watching Quirrell’s expression.

To Allen’s surprise, Quirrell became genuinely interested in the topic and asked with curiosity:

“What kind of person do you think the Dark Lord was?”