A broken Hogwarts

Chapter 70 Quirrell's Miserable Life

In the new week, the atmosphere in Hogwarts is still peaceful.

The ghosts were in full swing preparing for the ghost event on the weekend. After receiving Owen's affirmative answer, almost every ghost's face was filled with joyful smiles, and their silvery-white figures could be seen flying around in the corridors of the castle.

Professor Quirrell's life is not easy, because he will always be unlucky to be affected by inexplicable things these days. Every time he walks out of the office, he seems to be going through a thrilling duel, as if he is being taken care of by the goddess of fortune. of.

On the first day of the week, he was hit on the back of the head by a dung egg thrown from above on the stairs.It turned out that Peeves was playing tricks on the two little wizards at the top of the stairs, and accidentally threw the dung egg on his head, and then the mischievous ghost floated away with his tongue sticking out.

The dung exploded on Quirrell's head, and the foul-smelling brown juice burst all over his head and face, soaking even the large purple scarf on his head.Quirrell ran back to his office crying and howling with a stinking smell all over his body. It is said that the sobbing sound from his office could be heard all the way.

But his bad luck didn't stop there.The next day in the corridor, someone threw a handful of fireworks, and the fireworks scurrying around ignited the big scarf on his head, turning his head into a flaming torch. They can't be put out.

Quirrell ignored the pain of being burned, raised his hands to cover the back of his head and ran wildly.After fearfully avoiding the chandeliers falling from the ceiling, and walking with difficulty through the desks, chairs and benches that were piled up in the corridor, he finally got into the office before his brain boiled.

But Quirrell is a strong person. Even though there were big blisters on his forehead, he still resolutely refused Madam Pomfrey's request to apply ointment on the back of his head which was more severely burned. Just standing in Defense Against the Dark Arts class wearing a new scarf.Well, according to him, this is the second scarf given to him by the African prince.

For Professor Quirrell's unwillingness to take off his scarf even if he was injured, the little wizards were in awe, but at the same time agreed that the scarf on his head contained a big secret.Otherwise, wouldn't you be afraid of maggots if you still insist on wearing a scarf when you get burned?
The twin Weasley brothers made a good bet and started a Quirrell guessing game, which attracted the participation of many little wizards.People bet on whether the big scarf on Quirrell's head was stuffed with garlic, caterpillars or dragon dung, and some people bet that he was bald or dysentery...

Owen didn't mind watching the excitement, and Dadi anonymously voted ten gold Galleons to show his appreciation and encouragement for this kind of game.

As the little wizards waited eagerly, Quirrell's situation became more and more difficult.When class was over that day, he had just stepped out of the classroom when a hook that fell from the sky caught the big scarf on his head.Although Quirrell was caught off guard, he still quickly raised his hand to cover it. As a result, the whole person was hung high in the air by the hook that rose suddenly, kicking his legs like a live fish waiting to be dried.

"Ah, Professor Quirrell has hanged himself!" The little wizards below screamed.

"Peeves, great job!" Owen, who saw this scene from afar, almost cried out from laughter.Let you pretend to be a pig and eat a tiger. After playing the idiot for a long time, it will be difficult to take it off.

What he was even more curious about was whether Voldemort's face on the back of Quirrell's head was covered with blisters?Uh, the picture is too beautiful to imagine.

After Owen was gloating at the play and feeding Mrs. Norris the dried fish, he had just returned to the lounge when he received a notice to go to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office in the afternoon.He crumpled the note into a ball and stuffed it into his hand with a blank expression, then blew into his palm, and the note turned into confetti and scattered in all directions.

Melet, who was sleeping late, happened to be covered in confetti. She wrinkled her face and sneezed, then got up and licked her shiny hair diligently, taking a bath tirelessly.

Harry was flipping through his textbook absently. Since he left the room where the Mirror of Erised was last time, he was often in this state of trance, looking like a poor little boy who missed his parents.

"Actually, Harry, I think you still have a family member." Owen hated this expression the most, so he said with an unfathomable expression.Immediately afterwards, he saw Harry's emerald green eyes shoot out a wolf-like green gaze, as if he was about to eat people.

"Cough, do you know Ron Weasley?" Owen coughed lightly.

"Yes, the Gryffindor one." Harry nodded.

"As for him, he has a pet mouse named Scabbers. As long as you catch it and give it to Dumbledore, if nothing happens, you will get a relative." Owen said lazily with a smile.

Facing Harry's suspicious eyes, he said solemnly: "Of course, you have to pay attention to a few points. That mouse is very difficult, timid and very intelligent. Don't let it know your purpose, or it will kill you." You'll slip away, and your loved ones will be gone with a 'boom' like fireworks."

"Oh, thank you, I didn't know my relatives could have anything to do with mice." Harry said in a bad mood, thinking that Owen was joking himself.

"Tsk tsk, Harry, do you think I've ever lied to you?" Owen spread his hands with a disappointed and sad look on his face.

"I'm sorry, Owen," Harry said quickly, then fidgeted.Although Owen usually teases him a lot, he has never lied to him in serious matters. Although it is really ridiculous to say that exchanging a mouse for a relative, what if it is true?

There is always a dream, what if it comes true?

Thinking of this, Harry's mind had already flown to the question of how to get the mouse from Ron Weasley.

Seeing the excited look of the savior, Owen shrugged his shoulders, turned his head and said to Blaise who was playing with those strange things: "By the way, Blaise, you really don't want to join our strongest study group? ?”

"No, what's the point of studying? And the name is too stupid." Blaise pulled the red string of the box in his hand, and a large group of people flew out, and he was overwhelmed by countless screams and fists in a blink of an eye up.

"Tsk tsk, it's just a title. If you're arrogant enough, it doesn't matter if you want to call it a saint." Owen put Melet in the armchair indifferently, and left the lounge alone.Melet looked at his back with a sense of consciousness, let out a soft cry, and then rolled herself into a ball.

Owen walked in the deep corridor, feeling bad when he thought of Voldemort.All cat lovers should strongly boycott him!
With this in mind, Owen knocked on the door of Quirrell's office, and opened the door after hearing "Come in" from inside the door.

The strange thing is that the smell coming from the door today is no longer the pungent garlic smell before, but a rich aroma, neither like the smell of flowers nor like the smell of food, but it is not annoying.

Owen glanced at the figure sitting behind the desk, um, it was Quirrell himself.

The spirit suddenly relaxed, and Owen walked into the door with a smile, and saw a pot of potion boiling on the desk in front of Quirrell.The flames under the crucible were blazing, and the crimson liquid medicine was dancing lively in the crucible, which looked like fine red wine.

Crimson steam continuously emerged above the liquid medicine, like a small mushroom cloud that lasted for a long time.That strange aroma emanates from it, and if you smell it for a while, it will make you feel drunk.

"Professor Quirrell, good afternoon. What kind of potion is this?" Owen greeted very kindly, as if he was visiting a relative.He looked at the pot of potion. Even though he knew how to identify potions, he couldn't figure out what kind of potion was in front of him, but it was definitely not a potion for treating burns.

Quirrell squinted at the pot of potion, then quickly looked away, and said proudly, "You don't need to know."

"Okay." Owen nodded thoughtfully, and then said with a smile, "Professor Quirrell, do you need some ointment for your burns? Or, I still have chocolate and candies here. Eating some sweets is good for keeping you in a good mood." oh."

Quirrell's expression suddenly became ugly, and hatred and fear appeared involuntarily in his eyes.He snorted coldly, and said through gritted teeth, "I know, someone is targeting me recently... When I no longer need to pretend to be myself, I promise that person will die a painful death."

"Ah, come on." Owen made a gesture of cheering perfunctorily, then tilted his head and said, "Then why did you call me here?"

(End of this chapter)