Quirrell woke up early Saturday morning in a cheerful mood.
He had just wrapped his headscarf and opened the door when Vincent's big face came close.
"Hello, Professor Quirrell."
His smile was forced. "Wayne, you—you—how did you get here?"
"I have some academic problems."
"Yes—I see."
Quirrell leaned forward slightly, and Seamus's little head squeezed in.
Following behind were Harry, Ron, and other first-year students.
Apart from Hermione, Gryffindor students in this year's class have arrived.
The already small office suddenly felt crowded.
Quirrell looked completely bewildered.
The reason I got up so early today is that I plan to go to Diagon Alley to buy a new wand.
But judging from this situation, they probably won't be able to leave the house unless their problems are resolved.
"Professor, we all want to learn some magic to deal with dark wizards."
Vincent blinked his big eyes. "We're all first-year wizards. We're completely powerless against the You-Know-Who."
Fart!
Quirrell cursed inwardly.
This person just pulls out a gun and shoots as soon as they see you; you're completely defenseless.
"Of course."
"Great!" Seamus excitedly pulled out his wand.
Although his skill level is a bit lacking, he is still a proper professor.
"Could you—please don't point it at me?" Quirrell tilted his head to avoid the wand in his hand.
"Sorry." Seamus flipped his hand and accidentally pointed again.
The wand almost poked the headscarf.
"Let's go somewhere else—let's go somewhere else."
"OK!"
A large group of young wizards followed Quirrell.
"Master, what are they trying to do?"
"Quirinus, don't disturb my rest—"
Quirrell glanced back at Vincent, who was smiling.
The cunning Batman has his eye on me again.
With Catwoman gone, Nightwing and Robin will likely have more to their story.
He opened the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts and, with a bitter expression, moved the podium aside with his hands.
"Professor, don't you use magic?"
"It's just this—a very small matter."
His trembling stemmed not from fear, but from anger towards the man.
Everyone uses Alder Wand; a head-on clash won't end well for anyone.
Insidious!
Vincent flicked his wand. "Professor, shall I help you?"
Wingardium Leviosa— "
Those desks floating and stacked together seemed to be mocking Quirrell's incompetence.
Voldemort didn't need to remind him; he knew what the students were thinking.
Especially Seamus, whose face was full of disdain, even looked at Vincent with questioning eyes.
"He is, after all, a professor; he must have some redeeming qualities."
Quirrell couldn't decipher the awkward expression, but he could understand the provocation in those blue eyes.
Voldemort possesses more advanced Wandless Magic techniques than the Levitation Charm, but even if he were taught, he wouldn't be able to learn them in a short time.
Just lie down and let them mock me.
"Wayne, actually I have something to do."
Vincent looked at the Alder Wand clutched in his hand.
There is virtually no information in the Wizarding World about Voldemort.
Real name not available.
He doesn't know any magic.
It doesn't even specify which year Hogwarts was held.
The Legilimency was all based on his speculation.
The reason Hermione wasn't brought was simple: to make a preliminary assessment of whether she was a natural master, and to avoid prematurely revealing too many subsequent plans.
"Professor, could you demonstrate a simple spell? I learn it very quickly."
"Okay—okay."
Prepared to be humiliated, Quirrell pointed his wand at him. (Seven)
"Shield Charm— "
The posture and pronunciation were perfect, but nothing happened.
"Hehe." Seamus proudly raised his little head.
He may not be a great cook, but at least he can fry something every time.
Ron whispered to Harry next to him.
"This level is worse than even the Auror in the Ministry of Magic."
Their Shield Charm, though incredibly weak, at least had a tangible form.
Harry seemed a little surprised. "Really? Professor Dumbledore wouldn't go that far—I mean, he must have some real skills."
"Vincent misjudged him. Like most people in the Ministry of Magic, he's just here to collect a paycheck."
Ron makes a good point.
Harry was starting to waver. "He was another professor before, maybe he just hasn't adapted yet?"
"I've heard Fred and George say that he used to teach Muggle Studies."
"Um—I think Dumbledore —you know what I mean."
Quirrell looked very unwell.
Because Voldemort was spewing profanities into his mind again.
Harry Potter, as his archenemy, looked down on him, which meant he looked down on the Dark Lord who had almost ruled the British Isles.
A broken mindset can impair sound judgment.
Vincent smiled and explained to Neville, "The professor was too nervous. You must not do that again."
Is that the reason?
"Yes, never lose confidence in yourself."
Neville, seemingly understanding but not quite, puffed out his little chest and looked confidently at Quirrell, who resembled a clown.
Even the most timid student in this year's class has turned out like this; Voldemort is so angry that he just wants to use Quirrell's body to perform Avada.
"Master, this must be Wayne's conspiracy!"
"You useless piece of trash! You can't even handle a child—"
Before the aggrieved Quirrell could even offer a couple of words of comfort, Seamus suggested they go back to their fighting lessons.
"Vincent, instead of wasting our time here, we'd better learn a few useful tricks from you."
"But the professor—"
"It can't be that the wand is broken, can it?" Seamus glanced over. "What do you think, Professor?"
"No—it's not broken." Quirrell forced out a very ugly smile.
He wasn't crazy, but Voldemort was on the verge of madness.
"I'm sorry, Professor," Vincent was walking at the back, bowed. "I didn't take into account your miserable experience during the holidays."
Quirrell thought they were talking about vampires, but just as he was about to say something, the other person left.
"Master, does Wayne know something through his wand?"
"Leave me alone!"
"But Master, if that's the case—"
"Dumbledore and Snape aren't fools!"
Wayne isn't stupid!
These masters of Occlumency are not fools!
"You're a fool, Quirinus!"
After being scolded for about ten minutes, Quirrell walked out of the classroom in a daze.
He felt wronged, very wronged.
Students look down on them;
The master looks down on him;
I even look down on myself a little.
"Do you dare to think like that again?!"
Quirrell hunched his shoulders and walked out of the castle.
Just thinking about it, Voldemort cursed him for another half hour.
"Master, we have arrived."
Ollivander at the wand shop was very welcoming.
When he heard that he was going to buy a new wand, his smile almost blossomed into a flower.
"Alder wood, Unicorn Hair core—"
Among a pile of old boxes, he pulled out a wand that was part of the same set Quirrell had used before.
It looks rather simple, like a wooden stick.
"Professor Quirrell, are you sure you don't want to try anything else?"
"I only need this one."
Ollivander said with a pained expression, "This is one of my very early works, and I originally intended to keep it as a treasure."
Quirrell, who was inwardly grumbling, pulled out a small bag.
"Well—okay."
Ollivander's attitude changed instantly after opening the package. "It's actually quite useful, it's just that the appearance wasn't polished very carefully."
Quirrell took his new wand and went straight out.
Wizards like him who come to buy a second wand are seen as easy targets by all wand makers.
Because the Ministry of Magic and schools aren't going to be taken advantage of; they'll only subsidize the young wizards' first wand.
Moreover, it's almost at cost price, with hardly any profit.