Daily News: The Prophet of Hogwarts

Chapter 28 Quirrell's Confession

"I...I...was...bewitched...by...a mysterious person...and committed...a terrible mistake." Quirrell dropped a bombshell as soon as he opened his mouth, and everyone thought the three of them would be shocked and panic.

But the three people in front of her didn't react at all. Ryanla conjured up three chairs, gave one to the principal and one to the dean, and then sat down herself.

The whole process was uneventful, and I even felt like laughing a little.

This news isn't exciting enough. Can you tell us something that nobody knows? Ryan's already itching to grab a few apples and take a bite.

"You...you...no...no...surprised!" Quirrell's eyes widened, and he almost couldn't catch his breath. After a violent coughing fit, he was able to speak normally.

"What happened next? And how did you come up with the idea to tell us, Quirinus?" Dumbledore said.

Ryan could clearly sense Quirrell's panic. Come to think of it, after the secret buried deep in his heart was revealed, the three listeners remained calm, which meant they had obviously known about it all along.

What's the difference between this and thinking you're on a secluded path when you're actually running naked in public?

Ryan felt a chill run down his spine just thinking about the possible feeling.

Quirrell, his eyes vacant as if crawling with maggots, uttered, "I...want...to...be discharged..."

This is after realizing he's socially dead and deciding to give up... Ryan put himself in that shoes and suddenly realized that places like the moon and Mars are living areas that are countless times better than Earth.

"No, Quirinus, you need treatment," Dumbledore said. "Do you have anything else to say?"

The walking dead, the socially dead, Lorraine, spoke in a hollow tone, reciting words like lines from a script: "The mysterious man... possessed... me... and treated me... as his servant, to... steal... Gringotts, to find... the Philosopher's Stone."

"Last night, he... in an attempt to prolong his life... to find a once-important... treasure, he failed... and forcibly... Apparated within the school grounds."

"It caused great harm to both of us..."

"Ryan... came to me... and put me in solitary confinement... He cared about me, respected me, and didn't treat me... like a slave."

When Quirrell said this, his empty eyes lit up for once.

Dumbledore nodded to Lane, and Flitwick gave him a thumbs-up.

Ryan himself didn't know that caring would have such a good effect. It might be because there is no harm without comparison. Voldemort's oppressive rule and the idea that all purebloods in the world are his servants are unacceptable to any normal free person.

Perhaps wanting to acknowledge Ryan and express his gratitude, Quirrell twitched a couple of times, wincing in pain, his panting and groans reaching the next room, drawing a disgruntled snort from Madam Pomfrey.

"Excuse me, Bobby, I think Quirinus has only a couple more sentences to say," Dumbledore raised his voice to explain to Madam Pomfrey.

"Headmaster... I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Quirrell apologized repeatedly, forcing himself to finish his sentence: "In the end... the mysterious man... forced me to... drink unicorn blood... I resisted... but failed."

"But... my... resistance... worked. When I got close to the unicorn... gathering place, the mysterious man... couldn't hold on and left... me. I... crawled all the way back, and when I woke up... I found myself... in... the school hospital."

"Thank you for your story, Quirinus. You need to get some rest now; Bobby's already trying to get rid of you." Dumbledore stood up. "We'll come see you when you're feeling better."

Flitwick's eyes welled up with tears as Quirrell spoke haltingly, and he stood up as well: "Quirinus, you are a brave student. There are many wizards who have been bewitched by Voldemort, but anyone who is willing to fight against him is a warrior."

"Quirk, I look forward to our first meeting in Defense Against the Dark Arts class," Ryan said, before leaving with Dumbledore and Flitwick.

Principal's Office.

"Oh, Dumbledore, Quirinus's situation..." Flitwick hesitated, then stopped himself.

Ryan knew that his headmaster was in a dilemma, unsure whether he should put in a good word for Quirrell.

The current situation is that, apart from Ryan and his two companions, no one knows that Voldemort once possessed Quirrell.

Even Ryan and his two companions didn't know where Voldemort was, nor could they be sure if Quirrell was alright or if he was still in contact with Voldemort.

"Everything Quirinus said makes perfect sense, and I'm willing to believe my student," Dumbledore said slowly, his fingers interlaced. "But we need to observe further."

"I will inform everyone as soon as there are any related prophecies," Ryan said, adding that he would pay attention to the matter.

...........

Friday morning, first-year potions class, underground classroom.

The first Potions class for the first-year students began, and Professor Snape slowly and methodically called the roll.

"Oh, Harry Potter, what a famous person."

Harry felt something was wrong; he didn't think Snape's words were a compliment.

Sure enough, Snape then posed three probing questions to him.

What happens when you add narcissus root powder to mugwort extract?

Where can I find bezoar?

What are the differences between *Aconitum carmichaelii* and *Aconitum kusnezoffii*?

Harry lost two points for various reasons and also received the assessment that fame doesn't represent everything.

Hermione, who was standing next to him and raised her hand to answer the question, was completely ignored.

Harry and Ron discover that the Gryffindor students are in a terrible state in Potions class, and they grow increasingly disgusted with their vacant and indifferent Potions professor.

Unfortunately, their anger did nothing to change anything.

He also made a mistake due to momentary distraction.

Snape waved his wand, clearing the potion that was being brewed in front of the two men: "Fools, you should stir it twelve times before adding the snakeskin. The potion you're brewing is only good for poisoning yourselves. Five points deducted from Gryffindor."

Malfoy peeked out, looking smugly at Harry and Ron.

"Look, Potter, what's this?" he mouthed, pointing with his left hand to the armband on his right arm.

Ron's eyes widened in disbelief that even a Slytherin could obtain a token from the Adventurers' Club.

Ron became increasingly convinced that Lane was a Slytherin and that he was the one who attacked Professor Richlow.

"Weasley, no daydreaming during class. One point deducted from Gryffindor." Snape's voice came from the side.

"Sir, it's Malfoy..." Harry finally couldn't hold back and spoke up to explain.

But before he could finish speaking, Snape's slightly raised voice made him breathless: "Shut up, Potter."

Behind Snape, Malfoy's smile widened even more.

Snape's empty gaze swept over the black and gold armband on Harry's sleeve, and his brow twitched slightly.

He turned and left, patrolling the underground classroom to see if any students were not paying attention or not following the proper procedures for brewing potions.

As he passed by Malfoy, he showed everyone how perfect Malfoy's method of steaming slugs was.

Then, a thick plume of smoke appeared in the underground classroom.

Neville unfortunately became the first to stick his neck out and get shot.

"Idiot! Putting in the porcupine quills too early will only cause scabies!"

"Gryffindor lost another point because Potter didn't remind his classmates."

Harry felt incredibly angry.

After class.

Hermione hurried toward the Ravenclaw Tower, seemingly wanting to build rapport with the upperclassmen in preparation for the Adventurers' Club gathering after the last class of the day.

Because these first-grade students don't have classes on Friday afternoons, while most grades don't finish their last class until after 5 p.m. on Fridays.

So she wanted to find out what the club would say so she could prepare in advance.

Miss Granger could not accept that she had not prepared for any of her lessons in advance.

Ron watched her retreating figure with a look of utter disgust.

Harry felt a little guilty; he was truly ashamed to have such a hardworking peer.

In particular, he had an appointment with Haig at 3 p.m.