Two major events were reported at Hogwarts early Sunday morning.
First, Seamus, Dean, Ron, and Harry, these four first-year Little Lions, each gloriously earned 30 points for Gryffindor.
It's impossible to add more; it's impossible to add that many before the end of the semester.
Secondly, Professor Quirrell, who is very timid, encountered You-Know-Who last night and was beaten so badly that he couldn't get out of bed.
Who treated him?
"Old Bat".
Vincent. "He actually passed this hurdle."
George grinned mischievously, "I heard that our Professor Quirrell is terrified and clings to Snape's leg tightly, refusing to let go!"
"Quiet!"
Madam Pince, the librarian, immediately glared at him.
Fred, who was about to demonstrate, sat back down dejectedly.
He leaned closer and whispered, "Doesn't she look just like a vulture? Even her call is exactly the same."
Hermione glared back. "This is a library, and loud noises are prohibited here."
George pointed around and said, "Look around, this place is full of tyranny."
If you speak loudly, or accidentally spill a book, she'll be there for you faster than Filch.
Somewhat speechless, Hermione continued to look down and flip through the pages.
Madam Pince, like Filch, was Squib.
Aside from their genders, these two are quite similar in some ways.
"I'm sure they're both jealous that we can use magic."
Vincent turned to the next page of the massive A History of Magic, "It is human nature not to want to live in Muggle society, and Hogwarts is the only place that would accept them."
"Are you sympathizing with them?"
"A little bit, but more out of emotion."
The Squib, banished from the Wizarding World, can only return through her descendants.
Examples like Filch Madam Pince are ultimately very few.
"I think I know what Quirrell really wants."
Vincent put down his quill and pointed with his index finger to the biography of a legendary Alchemy.
"Nicolas Flamel— "
Hermione excitedly followed along the way.
This person was already a pen pal who frequently exchanged letters while studying at Dumbledore.
The Sorcerer's Stone is a treasure that all wizards covet, so it's no wonder Quirrell risked everything to break into Gringotts.
"Turning stone into gold!" The twins, their faces filled with longing, were lost in their fantasies.
With a wave of his hand, Weasley grabbed a handful of Gold Galleons and buried Malfoy Manor in a display of extravagance.
The exasperated expressions of the two Malfoy, one old and one young, made them laugh even more wildly.
"Get out of here!"
Madam Pince pointed, and the four of them slunk out of the library.
"She's really mean."
"Well enough."
"This is an unreasonable form of power; she didn't even intend to give you a chance."
Speechless, Hermione walked up the steps.
Aren't you going to visit Professor Quirrell?
"I still have two papers to write."
Vincent was about to go back with her when the twins pulled him downstairs.
"Dude, you can do your homework anytime."
"This is a walking House Points! As long as we expose his true colors, Gryffindor will once again usher in glory!"
Persuaded, he thought for a moment, then took out a Gold Galleons from his pocket. "Shouldn't I bring a small gift when I visit someone?"
The twins saw his wicked grin and immediately understood what was going on.
If you can't do it openly, it's acceptable to make Quirrell suffer in secret.
The Hogwarts Hospital Wing is managed by the school's Head Nurse Madam Pomfrey. Poppy Pomfrey.
She wasn't very old, but she looked at least several years older than Snape.
"Professor Quirrell, it's time for your medicine."
Quirrell, lying in one of the six hospital beds, slowly straightened up.
He drank the entire bowl of green, bubbling medicine without hesitation.
It wasn't really that bad, since he was attacked.
It's likely that Madam Pomfrey was used to brewing medicine for her naughty students, which is why they all looked so bad.
It's normal for professors to have some privileges.
"Thank you."
Quirrell, now reverting to his timid self, lay back down. (Seven)
He now has to play a victim who lives in constant fear, at least for the time being.
"Madam, we've come to visit the professor."
"Oh, he just finished taking his medicine."
"We won't bother him for long."
"Go in."
Quirrell nervously turned to the side and saw three big, smiling faces.
"Professor, are you alright?" Vincent placed a bouquet of flowers in a vase.
"It's... it's alright." He reached out his hand, somewhat at a loss.
"Let us help you." The twins enthusiastically grabbed one of his shoulders each and gently helped him up.
Before Quirrell could even begin to ponder his many questions, Vincent casually pulled a bottle of dark yellow potion from his pocket.
"This is high-concentration iodine solution, which my dad often uses to disinfect wounds."
Looking at the unremarkable potion, Quirrell became even more puzzled.
"Sorry, but if you don't mind using Muggle items, this is a great disinfectant."
"It—it really has this effect?"
"Certainly."
Vincent opened the bottle with a sincere look in his eyes. "You know Malfoy and I are good friends. He used this when he had boils on his face."
Quirrell didn't pay attention to the first part of the sentence; he was just wondering if this stuff could cure boils.
The physical injuries were nothing serious, but the back of his head, wrapped in a long scarf, had been soaked in sweat for more than ten hours.
If we don't ventilate and disinfect, my whole face might rot away.
"Thank you, Wayne."
Vincent screwed the cap back on and placed it on the bedside table. "Professor, we all hope you recover and are discharged from the hospital soon."
"Yes, Professor."
George sat on the edge of the bed with a grin. "Can you describe what the You-Know-Who looks like? We all want to catch him as soon as possible."
Quirrell shook his head, then nodded. "He was dressed like a bat, all black, I couldn't see what he looked like."
All three nodded blankly.
He successfully cleared himself of suspicion, and didn't forget to shift the focus to Snape.
Just because someone dresses like a bat, probably very few people in the entire Hogwarts would know Batman is.
The fact that Snape could still treat him despite this is truly admirable, showcasing his Oscar-worthy acting skills.
"What is the Oscars?" George asked curiously as he walked out of the Hospital Wing.
"It's similar to your wizarding drama awards."
Quirrell's performance just now deserved a Best Performance award.
"Will he really use that iodine solution?"
Fred walked up the steps with some apprehension. "I don't know why, but I always feel that he would be very resistant to using Muggle items."
"I'll use it."
From the moment Vincent entered, he noticed the fluorescent green around Quirrell's neck.
Unless I don't want a big face on the back of my head, I will definitely use it if I have no other choice.
"I should have added something in there."
The sight of the sighing twins made him gasp.
High-purity iodine solution is powerful enough; if you add some fluorescent yellow or Boil-Cure Potion, even a fool would know who Batman is.
"No, you've already taken Madam Pomfrey's..."
Looking at the two identical smiling faces, he couldn't help but worry about the back of Quirrell's head.