Chapter 93 The Ragged Professor Who Taught Ragged Defense
·
Qing Mo Da Xian
Quirrell knew he was being taken advantage of.
But fortunately, the quality of Ollivander is still guaranteed.
Although this magic wand is not as good as before, the gap is not too big.
After one transfiguration, the shape is carved to be exactly the same as the broken one.
All the grievances he experienced just now disappeared in this instant.
"Knock Knock-"
He got up and opened the office door, and Fred and George squeezed in with smiling faces.
"Hello, Professor."
The dialogue full of strong sense of sight made Quirrell inexplicably have a bad premonition.
Without the twins opening their mouths, Li, who squeezed in behind, expressed his intentions, "Professor, we all want to learn some magic to deal with dark wizards."
Quirrell was a little confused.
Because Voldemort knows his true thoughts through his emotions.
They are here to crack down on fakes.
Fred and George were even more hostile towards him.
Quirrell, who connected everything together, couldn't help but secretly rejoice.
Vincent's methods are very clever, and he is sure that he does not dare to expose his magical power too much, and his character must maintain a timid and fearful setting.
After he briefly demonstrated three or two magic tricks that were not good enough, he was really despised by all the third-year Gryffindor students.
The twins with the strongest fighting power even secretly hinted that this professor is useless, and that even Filch could teach him a good way to spot the enemy.
Voldemort blew up again.
His subordinates can't even compete with mere squibs, and the face lost by the Dark Lord is almost filling the Mariana Trench.
While resisting doubts, Quirrell allowed his mind to be filled with various fragrances.
Difficult, too difficult.
"Professor, are you any good?"
"When—of course there is."
"Quirinas, kill them!"
He raised his new wand and unleashed a half-baked Iron Armor Charm.
George's eyes widened, "Wow, it's very imposing!"
Fred smacked his lips. "It's an unbreakable magic spell."
Voldemort guessed what they were up to.
This face, I'm afraid I'm going to lose it all today.
"Professor, can we test the intensity?"
Endure, must endure.
No jinxes were used, just a simple stun spell knocked him flying.
"Oh, the professor passed out~"
Quirrell woke up instantly.
"Yo, the professor woke up again~"
Lee poised and looked as though he was going to continue.
Quirrell smirked, "I—I still have things to do."
The twins opened the door politely, "We are really sorry to disturb your precious time."
Outside, something seemed to be waiting for him.
"No—it doesn't matter."
Even though the flood was raging, Quirrell left in despair.
"You're right." Li curled his lips at his back, "He's just a parallel importer, I'd rather let Filch be the professor."
"You have to save him some face." George spread his hands, "He's a professor after all, at worst he'll just sleep after his classes."
"Makes sense."
Quirrell, who hadn't gone far, staggered and almost fell hard.
While he kept cursing in his heart, he was still receiving various "education" from Voldemort.
For example, just be more high-profile and beat the group of lion cubs to the ground one by one.
Another example is to directly take a knife and reward seven or eight different curses.
"Master, there is still half a month—"
"coward!
Now even the Sorcerer's Stone can't calm the anger in my heart! "
Quirrell had to appease Voldemort.
But when he got down to the corner of the second floor, his left foot seemed to have stepped on something.
Slippery, slipped in an instant.
He rolled all the way to the dungeon, falling black and blue.
Hearing the movement, Snape walked out of the office and met the last pair of eyes full of resentment.
"Ah—I was too careless." Quirrell straightened the long scarf that was loose on his forehead.
Snape squinted and came up to him.
"Quirinas, don't tell me you were attacked by a mysterious person again."
"No, I didn't—not watch my step."
Snape, who swept over from top to bottom, set his eyes on the edge of the steps.
He stepped forward, but only caught a handful of air. .seven
coincidence?
"You're in big trouble, Quirinus."
His gloating eyes made Quirrell gasp immediately.
If this happened to me normally, I guess I wouldn't have fallen so hard.
This morning and just now, it turned out to be to upset myself.
Dirty, really dirty.
Snape shook his robe lightly and went straight back to his office.
Quirrell, who stayed where he was, tried to persuade him in his brain.
"Master, please put out the fire."
"Quirinas, I want that Mudblood—"
"Huh? Why?"
"I want to dig out his brain with my own hands!"
Voldemort tried to calm himself down.
But the undisguised disdain of many Gryffindor students fueled his anger even more.
In a class of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff in the third grade, Quirrell was almost forced to do it.
Sleep, really sleep.
Even if there were only a few people, he forced himself not to deduct points.
This weak image must be maintained.
Halfway through the class, the honest little badgers didn't respect him as much as before.
In a certain class of Slytherin and Ravenclaw, he could clearly feel the contempt of the students.
Voldemort was so angry that he cursed all class.
Originally, the professors of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class changed every year, and the teaching quality was already mixed with all kinds of good and bad.
This semester we talked about zombies, but when the professor changes next semester, we will talk about zombies again.
The grievances accumulated by the students over the years have reached the point where they can be exploded at the touch of a button.
Friday.
Quirrell looked at the first-year freshmen in the audience, and announced the self-study for this class.
In normal class, all kinds of humiliation cannot escape.
Vincent, who had been secretly watching the podium, saw that he was still so aggrieved, and his mood was as happy as a hunter seeing his prey stepping into a trap.
Ever since that day, after the twins who knew less about Hermione passed, Quirrell still thought it was the four of them who were going to expose him.
Voldemort was clearly not a born master of Legilimency.
Even if it is, it is far from reaching the level where the person in the United States can know the thoughts of everyone around him just by standing there.
Quirrell didn't know that Dumbledore was going to get him, and Voldemort didn't know that Vincent was going to get him.
Quirrell knew that Vincent was going to do him, but Voldemort didn't know why he was going to do Quirrell.
The only way to know is to catch one of the four and use Legilimency to hack into the brain.
But once this is done, Quirrell and Voldemort will be completely exposed.
Vincent stretched, and got up and twisted his neck.
As soon as he stood up, Quirrell had a sense of foreboding.
"Professor, I have a question about my studies."
"Oh, yes—what is it?"
"Are vampires scary?
I mean—" Vincent put his hands on the desk and leaned forward slightly, "Is the one you met in Albania really scary enough to change your temperament? "
……
……
But fortunately, the quality of Ollivander is still guaranteed.
Although this magic wand is not as good as before, the gap is not too big.
After one transfiguration, the shape is carved to be exactly the same as the broken one.
All the grievances he experienced just now disappeared in this instant.
"Knock Knock-"
He got up and opened the office door, and Fred and George squeezed in with smiling faces.
"Hello, Professor."
The dialogue full of strong sense of sight made Quirrell inexplicably have a bad premonition.
Without the twins opening their mouths, Li, who squeezed in behind, expressed his intentions, "Professor, we all want to learn some magic to deal with dark wizards."
Quirrell was a little confused.
Because Voldemort knows his true thoughts through his emotions.
They are here to crack down on fakes.
Fred and George were even more hostile towards him.
Quirrell, who connected everything together, couldn't help but secretly rejoice.
Vincent's methods are very clever, and he is sure that he does not dare to expose his magical power too much, and his character must maintain a timid and fearful setting.
After he briefly demonstrated three or two magic tricks that were not good enough, he was really despised by all the third-year Gryffindor students.
The twins with the strongest fighting power even secretly hinted that this professor is useless, and that even Filch could teach him a good way to spot the enemy.
Voldemort blew up again.
His subordinates can't even compete with mere squibs, and the face lost by the Dark Lord is almost filling the Mariana Trench.
While resisting doubts, Quirrell allowed his mind to be filled with various fragrances.
Difficult, too difficult.
"Professor, are you any good?"
"When—of course there is."
"Quirinas, kill them!"
He raised his new wand and unleashed a half-baked Iron Armor Charm.
George's eyes widened, "Wow, it's very imposing!"
Fred smacked his lips. "It's an unbreakable magic spell."
Voldemort guessed what they were up to.
This face, I'm afraid I'm going to lose it all today.
"Professor, can we test the intensity?"
Endure, must endure.
No jinxes were used, just a simple stun spell knocked him flying.
"Oh, the professor passed out~"
Quirrell woke up instantly.
"Yo, the professor woke up again~"
Lee poised and looked as though he was going to continue.
Quirrell smirked, "I—I still have things to do."
The twins opened the door politely, "We are really sorry to disturb your precious time."
Outside, something seemed to be waiting for him.
"No—it doesn't matter."
Even though the flood was raging, Quirrell left in despair.
"You're right." Li curled his lips at his back, "He's just a parallel importer, I'd rather let Filch be the professor."
"You have to save him some face." George spread his hands, "He's a professor after all, at worst he'll just sleep after his classes."
"Makes sense."
Quirrell, who hadn't gone far, staggered and almost fell hard.
While he kept cursing in his heart, he was still receiving various "education" from Voldemort.
For example, just be more high-profile and beat the group of lion cubs to the ground one by one.
Another example is to directly take a knife and reward seven or eight different curses.
"Master, there is still half a month—"
"coward!
Now even the Sorcerer's Stone can't calm the anger in my heart! "
Quirrell had to appease Voldemort.
But when he got down to the corner of the second floor, his left foot seemed to have stepped on something.
Slippery, slipped in an instant.
He rolled all the way to the dungeon, falling black and blue.
Hearing the movement, Snape walked out of the office and met the last pair of eyes full of resentment.
"Ah—I was too careless." Quirrell straightened the long scarf that was loose on his forehead.
Snape squinted and came up to him.
"Quirinas, don't tell me you were attacked by a mysterious person again."
"No, I didn't—not watch my step."
Snape, who swept over from top to bottom, set his eyes on the edge of the steps.
He stepped forward, but only caught a handful of air. .seven
coincidence?
"You're in big trouble, Quirinus."
His gloating eyes made Quirrell gasp immediately.
If this happened to me normally, I guess I wouldn't have fallen so hard.
This morning and just now, it turned out to be to upset myself.
Dirty, really dirty.
Snape shook his robe lightly and went straight back to his office.
Quirrell, who stayed where he was, tried to persuade him in his brain.
"Master, please put out the fire."
"Quirinas, I want that Mudblood—"
"Huh? Why?"
"I want to dig out his brain with my own hands!"
Voldemort tried to calm himself down.
But the undisguised disdain of many Gryffindor students fueled his anger even more.
In a class of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff in the third grade, Quirrell was almost forced to do it.
Sleep, really sleep.
Even if there were only a few people, he forced himself not to deduct points.
This weak image must be maintained.
Halfway through the class, the honest little badgers didn't respect him as much as before.
In a certain class of Slytherin and Ravenclaw, he could clearly feel the contempt of the students.
Voldemort was so angry that he cursed all class.
Originally, the professors of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class changed every year, and the teaching quality was already mixed with all kinds of good and bad.
This semester we talked about zombies, but when the professor changes next semester, we will talk about zombies again.
The grievances accumulated by the students over the years have reached the point where they can be exploded at the touch of a button.
Friday.
Quirrell looked at the first-year freshmen in the audience, and announced the self-study for this class.
In normal class, all kinds of humiliation cannot escape.
Vincent, who had been secretly watching the podium, saw that he was still so aggrieved, and his mood was as happy as a hunter seeing his prey stepping into a trap.
Ever since that day, after the twins who knew less about Hermione passed, Quirrell still thought it was the four of them who were going to expose him.
Voldemort was clearly not a born master of Legilimency.
Even if it is, it is far from reaching the level where the person in the United States can know the thoughts of everyone around him just by standing there.
Quirrell didn't know that Dumbledore was going to get him, and Voldemort didn't know that Vincent was going to get him.
Quirrell knew that Vincent was going to do him, but Voldemort didn't know why he was going to do Quirrell.
The only way to know is to catch one of the four and use Legilimency to hack into the brain.
But once this is done, Quirrell and Voldemort will be completely exposed.
Vincent stretched, and got up and twisted his neck.
As soon as he stood up, Quirrell had a sense of foreboding.
"Professor, I have a question about my studies."
"Oh, yes—what is it?"
"Are vampires scary?
I mean—" Vincent put his hands on the desk and leaned forward slightly, "Is the one you met in Albania really scary enough to change your temperament? "
……
……
