Chapter 71: Aftermath
The tender fists continuously pounded on the cheeks and head. The little wizard had little strength, and the punches caused limited damage, but the moment the boy’s fists touched the skin, the unbearable burning pain made Quirinus Quirrell uncontrollably let out a wail.
Every bone in his body became a red-hot branding iron, the blood was flowing magma, his vision blurred, and the intense pain instinctively caused Quirinus Quirrell to resist. He began to struggle violently, wanting to push away the boy who was punching while pressing down on him, but any touch only triggered even stronger pain within his body.
“Master… Master…”
Quirinus Quirrell let out a shrill scream, his whole body covered in marks of flame burning, red light glowing from the cracks in his split skin.
“Please… great Dark Lord…”
His cries received no response.
The Dark Lord residing in his body was also roaring.
The boy punched his head one after another, his stamina gradually depleting, the force becoming lighter and lighter, until later he was unable to swing his fists, but his hands pressed tightly on the face. This continuous contact was even more unbearable, as if directly igniting the soul. Quirinus Quirrell felt his body on the verge of shattering.
The body was about to be destroyed, consciousness becoming increasingly blurred, and the pain actually weakening somewhat.
Quirinus Quirrell squeezed out the last of his strength from his flesh and blood to reach out, tremblingly grasping for the headscarf that he remembered hanging in front of him.
He touched nothing.
In a daze, he remembered that he had already removed the headscarf long ago, allowing the Dark Lord to see the outside world.
“Why… why doesn’t the Dark Lord help me?”
Invisible and intangible flames enveloped the body, the soul and magic power turning into firewood. The perception of the body was weakening, the pain growing fainter, Quirinus Quirrell’s pupils dilated, and just before completely losing consciousness, he vaguely saw a gray-black dark smoke bursting from behind his head.
That was the Dark Lord’s wraith, the one that had dragged him into the abyss of pain and finally abandoned him mercilessly.
Quirinus Quirrell felt light and floating, as if he had never had his life force drained by the wraith, never had his flesh eroded by death, as if he were a healthy and complete wizard.
When had he actively given up the good things he once had…
…
“Dear Mr. Quirinus Quirrell, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of required books and items. The term begins on September 1. We await your owl by March 31!”
…
“Quirinus Quirrell, Ravenclaw!”
“Another Muggle bookworm, how boring…”
…
“Mr. Quirrell, sorry, your grades are excellent, but you don’t quite meet the Ministry of Magic’s requirements. If you’re interested in other departments, you can continue submitting your resume.”
“Mr. Quirrell, sorry, we only recruit pure-blood wizards, but we need a clerk stationed in Africa, mainly responsible for procurement work. Are you interested?”
…
“Quirinus, welcome back to Hogwarts. I believe you can become an outstanding professor and bring the best Muggle Studies class to the students.”
…
“Professor Quirrell hahahaha… look at his ridiculous appearance, an adult wizard stuttering in class, does he even deserve to be a professor?!”
“I heard from my father that his grades were decent, but his abilities and personality were too poor. No one wanted to hire him, and Dumbledore took pity on him to hire him as a professor.”
…
“Hic~ The flame whiskey at the Hog’s Head Inn is still the best. Have you heard? That legendary Mysterious Person didn’t actually die. These years he’s been lurking deep in the Albanian Forest, waiting for Dumbledore to die before making a comeback?”
“Has your brain been pickled rotten by expired alcohol? You spout nonsense like that? The… Mysterious Person returning—what good would that do!”
“I say, what’s so bad? Now half-bloods and mudbloods are stepping on our heads. That one… supports pure-bloods.”
“Weren’t there few pure-bloods who died in the last Wizarding War? Idiot…”
…
“Quirinus Quirrell, you’re the first to find me. The goddess of luck is guiding you.”
“Foolish boy, you’re still young. I can forgive your ridiculous notions of good and evil, right and wrong. In the world, there is no right or wrong, only power, and the powerless who can’t obtain it. Swear loyalty to me, and I will grant you unprecedented power, make those who once looked down on you pay the price, and give you endless wealth, power, status…”
“Fool! Waste! Why couldn’t you bring back the Philosopher’s Stone! What can I actually count on you to accomplish?!”
“Of course I’m willing to forgive you. Give your body to me, and I’ll tell you how to do it… It’s just some negligible price. As long as you get the Philosopher’s Stone, I’ll grant you a healthy body, powerful magic power, even a long life.”
…
Memories flooded his consciousness. Quirinus Quirrell could no longer struggle and lay quietly on the cold floor. His eyes, barely able to see, felt somewhat sore, but no tears flowed out— all the liquid in his body had already dried up.
He vaguely heard the sound of bones and flesh cracking, beginning to turn into ashes and dissipate. Quirinus Quirrell suddenly trembled, and in a daze, he remembered the corpse he had just destroyed, just like himself at this moment. He wanted to reach out to hold onto those embers, but he could do nothing.
The smoke and dust completely dispersed.
“Hiss…”
The gray-black wraith was like rolling thick smoke, that twisted snake face turning into a transparent illusory existence. Paying no mind to the dissipating Quirinus Quirrell and the unconscious Harry, it stirred up a gust of dark wind and surged toward the exit.
Before leaving school, Melvin was barely a theoretical scholar, long immersed in Ilvermorny’s library, poring over centuries of accumulated magical theory knowledge, occasionally consulting professors when puzzled. After receiving the gift of the Horned Serpent, he began pondering how to use it to quickly increase magic power, but it was merely ordinary magic research—he had never personally witnessed true cutting-edge magic.
At this moment, Melvin stared intently at the evil wraith stirring up a gale, his eyes wide open, not the slightest fear, but rather some excitement. Was this the most powerful dark wizard in history?
“Fiendfyre…”
Orange-red flames roiled, instantly illuminating the dim room. Night moths and bats grew restless, scrambling to avoid this area, but this flame that instinctively terrified creatures failed to halt the wraith even for a moment.
【Patronus Charm】
Silver light mist surged, and pained wails came from the gray-black smoke, yet it still couldn’t hold him back.
The old headmaster, who had watched the entire process, showed no reaction, seemingly lost in thought. Melvin was also pondering: what state was Voldemort in? No tangible entity, yet completely different from a ghost.
A wraith that’s neither alive nor dead…
“Professors!” Hermione supported the unconscious Harry and looked up at the two, her little face indignant. “What are you still standing there for!?”
The old headmaster came back to his senses, his old face a bit embarrassed. He coughed. “Coming.”
…
Hospital Wing.
Madam Pomfrey left the ward to prepare potions.
Ron mainly took a hit to the head and woke up that afternoon. Harry’s physical injuries were even lighter, just minor abrasions on his fists, but his brain was more troublesome. Madam Pomfrey said he had received too much stimulation in a short time and needed to sleep for a few more days.
Hermione was also held down by the school nurse for an examination and diagnosed with shock and fright, needing to drink half a bottle of Draught of Living Death and rest well.
At this moment, she lay on the sickbed, the quilt tucked tightly around her, unable to move. Two pillows propped up her head, barely allowing her to see the old headmaster and young professor at the bedside. Her eyes darted back and forth, scrutinizing the two repeatedly.
Professor Levent’s two warnings, Headmaster Dumbledore’s deliberate observation—the whole thing felt off from start to finish, just like it was deliberately arranged.
Extremely likely to have been deliberately arranged!
Melvin turned his head to look at her.
“…”
The little witch instinctively averted her gaze, then reacted and stared straight at the professor, refusing to yield.
She had just heard that Harry and Ron were fine, so Hermione relaxed and began probing the truth of the matter. But after asking just a couple more questions, Professor Levent pushed her to Madam Pomfrey, who forcibly put her in the sickbed.
The quilt was also deliberately tucked like this by him.
“Irrelevant personnel leave the ward, don’t disturb the patients’ rest!” Madam Pomfrey was kind-hearted and fearless of authority, not even giving the headmaster face.
Dumbledore coughed lightly and left with Professor Levent, their conversation voices fading:
“Quirinus Quirrell was a talented but sensitive boy. During school, his shyness and sensitivity drew mockery from classmates. Perhaps feeling himself weak, he especially craved to prove himself, to make the world take notice of him. At some point, he developed an interest in dark magic…
“On one hand out of curiosity, on the other seeking recognition, Quirinus Quirrell began exploring the qualities needed to become a dark wizard. Later, dark magic corrupted his mind. He believed he could track down Voldemort, even learn advanced magic techniques from Voldemort, so he’d never be a laughingstock again.
“His ideas were so naive and arrogant, believing he could handle a meeting with Voldemort. Though the current Voldemort is very weak, he easily controlled this lost wizard, and Quirinus Quirrell was utterly powerless to resist…”
Hermione tried to turn over to hear more clearly, but the quilt firmly restricted her, like a Binding Charm. A few struggles yielded no result, and the headmaster and professor gradually walked away, their voices completely disappearing.
Madam Pomfrey brought a tray of potions, pouring three bottles into Harry, two into Ron, and one for herself.
The little witch lay numbly curled on the sickbed, wrapped in the soft warm quilt, her eyes unfocused.
“Gulp…”
Madam Pomfrey’s healing magic was exquisite, her theoretical knowledge solid, but her nursing technique had much room for improvement. Hermione nearly choked on the liquid potion.
…
Dumbledore’s recollections were basically useless information.
Melvin had no interest in Quirinus Quirrell’s past but was curious about the Horcrux. Based on his understanding of Horcruxes, he felt Quirinus Quirrell’s existence had great research value.
As a living wizard, Quirinus Quirrell’s body simultaneously housed two souls. Voldemort could directly control the body and drain life force… Could it be inferred that Quirinus Quirrell’s body was a vessel for souls, making him, in a sense, Voldemort’s temporary Horcrux?
“Living Horcrux…”
Unfortunately, the old headmaster would rather talk about the Philosopher’s Stone than reveal any Horcrux-related information. Melvin’s questions went unanswered.
The professors learned of the fourth-floor restricted area incident and soon flocked to the headmaster’s office. Professor McGonagall, concerned for the students, demanded accountability from Dumbledore. Snape, worried about Harry’s safety, also demanded accountability from Dumbledore.
Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout were purely curious, tagging along for the excitement.
Melvin, who had been involved throughout, didn’t want to join the excitement. Plus, he had collected many valuable memory pictures today, enough to complete the movie with just some final editing and arrangement work.
Speed up the progress, and it should make it for the Easter release.
…
Hogwarts held great influence within Britain. The death of a core class professor at the school barely leaked any news to the outside. This week’s Daily Prophet front page was about entering Romania, and the Board of Governors showed no movement.
This showed Dumbledore’s high position and authority.
The school’s internal atmosphere was much better. The underground passage incident spread very quickly, initially spread by the ghosts, emphasizing the heroic wisdom of Harry and the others breaking through the challenges, though the specifics of the final room were vague.
After Ron was discharged, it became his personal retelling.
The first day’s story matched the ghost version: mainly the three cracking the professors’ challenges, not encountering Quirinus Quirrell on the way, and the wise Weasley falling to the white queen chess piece.
The second day’s story had changes in detail and emphasis: mainly Professor McGonagall’s chessboard challenge. Ron described in detail how thrilling the chess game was, how clever the solution, how heroic the sacrifice. The wise and brave Weasley ultimately fell under the chess pieces’ siege.
The third day’s story was completely transformed: Professor McGonagall’s chessboard was secretly manipulated by the dark wizard Quirinus Quirrell, the board changing at any moment, almost impossible for human strength to crack. Weasley stayed behind alone to cover, fighting Quirinus Quirrell for half an hour, severely injuring the dark wizard. Though he unfortunately lost, he bought time for Harry, laying the foundation for the final victory. The wise, brave, and powerful Weasley was honored in defeat.
The little wizards knew this guy was bragging about himself but still listened with great interest. The title of Gryffindor’s three warriors quickly spread through the school. Every morning at breakfast in the Great Hall, one could hear the students’ discussions.
Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout were also keen to discuss those challenges, believing the Devil’s Snare and keys were suitable for first-year students, while the other professors’ challenges were too difficult, leading to student injuries.
“Melvin, you made it too complicated.”
Professor Flitwick said with a chuckle: “By the way, Dumbledore asked me to tell you that the house-elves don’t dare enter the room you set up to clean. You need to clean it yourself.”
Snape and Professor Sprout nearby showed schadenfreude smiles.
“…”
Melvin took a sip of milk, pondered briefly: “Harry and they protected the Philosopher’s Stone. How many points do you think Gryffindor should get this time?”
Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout’s smiles froze.
Last time Gryffindor and Slytherin’s group fight led to house points reset to zero. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw finally saw hope for the House Cup, but now that hope was shattered.
Snape’s face also looked unpleasant.
Only the deputy headmaster looked pleased.
“There are still four months left in the second half of the term. With the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor absent, who should substitute teach?”
Now even the deputy headmaster couldn’t stay happy.
