Chapter 42: Teach bad people early

"Thank you, Professor Quirrell, if it weren't for you, I really don't know what I would do."

At the door of the library, Miss Know-It-All bowed and said.

"This is what I should do. Hogwarts has never owed me wages."

Voldemort's joke once again made Miss Know-it-all laugh.

"Can I take the book back for you? As my thanks." After the laughter, Miss Know-It-All asked expectantly.

"I don't think so. I have to go to the kitchen and get myself some midnight snacks." Voldemort blinked and said, "Those who stay up late should prepare food for themselves."

"Oh, that's fine, but thank you anyway, Professor Quirrell." As soon as Miss Know-It-All finished speaking, her stomach growled unsatisfactorily.

"You didn't have dinner?" Voldemort asked curiously.

"I wanted to write my thesis quickly, so... I ate a little less." Miss Know-It-All said coyly.

She felt that today was really embarrassing, with a runny nose and a growling stomach.

"Then come to the kitchen with me. The house elves at Hogwarts will be happy to serve us." Voldemort invited.

"Is this really okay?" Miss Know-It-All opened her eyes in disbelief, "I've only seen house elves in books."

Her focus was obviously not on hunger - as a Muggle who had just entered school, this was a normal reaction.

"No problem, the whole school is serving students, including us professors, right?" Voldemort said, already walking towards the stairs.

"I'll hold the book handle for you, Professor, as a way of saying thank you." Miss Know-It-All said, following his footsteps.

"I would like you to take it." Voldemort said with a smile, "But I'm afraid that there are too many books and it will block your eyes. We will have to go down the stairs in a while."

Miss Know-It-All was stunned for a moment, then glanced at the book held in Voldemort's hand, and reluctantly agreed with Voldemort's words.

"Then can I take a few less books? As a thank you." Although she agreed, Miss Know-It-All still refused to give up.

"Of course, I'll give you a few copies."

Voldemort said, turning his head - without even waving his wand, several books flew into Miss Know-It-All's hands.

"Oh my God, Professor, you didn't use a wand? How did you do that?" Miss Know-It-All asked.

"Wandless casting and spellless casting can't be learned until you are in your senior year, and you can't do it now." He said in his mouth, but sighed helplessly in his heart.

He can only use these two skills on some simple magic. His talent limits him. Even if Quirrell has stable and powerful magic in his body, it will not help.

"What grade do you want, Professor?" Miss Know-It-All asked curiously.

Voldemort answered as he led her down the stairs and then into a wide stone corridor underground, where they saw many Hufflepuff students.

After walking a little further, they stopped in front of a painting of a silver bowl filled with fruit.

"Tickle that pear, Hermione, that's how to open the door," said Voldemort.

"How do you know my name, Professor?" Hermione asked as she obeyed.

"I attended your sorting ceremony, Hermione. There are only a few dozen freshmen from the four houses combined. I remember everyone's names." Voldemort explained.

Hermione suddenly understood, then grabbed the green handle turned into a pear and pulled it outward:

The kitchen, which was as big as the Great Hall, appeared in front of them. At the end of the sight was a large fireplace, and between them and the fireplace were hundreds of busy house elves.

"This place is too big." Hermione said in surprise, "Is this a house elf?"

Her voice disturbed the busy elves. They froze and looked at the door. At first they looked at Hermione, but they were soon attracted by Voldemort.

"Professor Quirrell, are you here to see me?" A little man jumped out and asked in surprise.

"Yes, Dava, I need you."

Voldemort nodded and said, "We need a new summoning ceremony, is this okay?"

Putting the book on the ground, Voldemort made a "pop" sound and snapped his fingers.

"Of course, Dawa is willing to serve you at any time." The short elf bent down so hard that his head almost touched the ground.

"Very well, Dawa, I need you to give me two midnight snacks, delivered to..."

Voldemort looked at Hermione, but Hermione didn't understand what he was going to do.

"Send it to my office," he said at last.

"Okay, Professor Quirrell, your two midnight snacks will be here soon. I will prepare your favorite sausages and cakes for you."

After Dawa finished speaking, he apparated directly, flashed to the stove not far away, and began to work on Voldemort's midnight snack.

"Let's go, Hermione, if you go in, you will be overwhelmed by their enthusiasm." After Voldemort whispered in Hermione's ear, he bent down and picked up his book.

Hermione closed the door obediently, but kept looking curiously at the world inside. Until the kitchen door was completely closed, she followed Voldemort's footsteps out of the stone corridor.

"They don't get paid, do they?" Hermione asked Voldemort on her short legs, "Wizards are enslaving house elves, right?"

"You can say that, but if you want to know more, you can take a look at [Hogwarts - A School History], which records in detail how Ms. Hufflepuff rescued them."

"This is not a rescue, Professor. In the Muggle world, people have achieved freedom and equality." Hermione said proudly.

Voldemort kept walking, but turned to look at her strangely.

"What I said is true." Hermione said quickly, fearing that Voldemort wouldn't believe it.

"I am also from the Muggle world, Hermione, you can't fool me." Voldemort said with a smile.

This made Hermione stunned. She didn't expect that the professor at Hogwarts House was actually a Muggle-born like her.

"Discrimination is everywhere. You can look at Martin Luther King's 'I Have a Dream.' His dream has not yet been fully realized." Voldemort said with a pout.

Hermione silently memorized Voldemort's words, but she was still a little dissatisfied - at the age of eleven, she had indeed never seen discrimination, and her knowledge always grew with age.

"My father said that discrimination has been eliminated, black people also have the right to freedom, and England is a democracy..."

"Democracy is just political rhetoric, kid. Class divisions will always exist. This is an unchangeable fact."

Voldemort stopped and looked at Hermione, "Restraining oneself and not letting oneself look down on other people is already a great accomplishment. Not everyone can do it."

The little girl wanted to refute, but she couldn't find a good reason. She was still too young, and even in the Muggle world, she didn't understand many advanced things.

Moreover, facing the professor, she was naturally at a disadvantage, but she was still dissatisfied.

"Let's talk in my office, kid, this is not the place to discuss problems." Voldemort said, taking the lead on the stairs.

Hermione followed closely behind, with fire already burning in her eyes - this little guy who liked to argue about right and wrong seemed to be ready for a fight.