How could a professor be afraid of vampires?
Leaving aside the first-year students, the upperclassmen probably already discovered something.
No student would suspect he had a problem, but if someone were to question him, such a lame excuse would seem especially foolish.
"Ah—I've encountered their leader."
Quirrell couldn't help but feel annoyed.
The absurd excuses she made up to get Dumbledore's attention and escape Voldemort have now become the most suspicious thing.
Given his performance over the past month or so, he can no longer keep up the act as before.
Under Vincent's expectant gaze, Quirrell's eyes, which had been timid and hesitant, suddenly sharpened.
He slowly stood up, all traces of his previous timidity and cowardice gone.
"Wayne, you are excellent."
He stopped stammering and said, "I thought it would be close to the end of the school year before students would realize I was faking it."
The students below the stage were all so surprised that their mouths were agape.
However, Quirrell brought them more than just that.
He walked down the podium step by step, "Of course I'm not afraid of the vampire leader."
The reason I've become like this is entirely because of all of you here.
You must have your own ideas; you cannot blindly believe appearances. You should have the courage to question authority.
In high spirits, he scanned the classroom as he walked, asking, "Wayne, when did you find out?"
Vincent held up one finger. "First Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Fantastic! No wonder you're a student who made history!"
Quirrell stopped in front of him. "Wayne, sit down."
"Yes, Professor." Vincent behaved obediently.
It's been exposed, but not completely.
The students didn't exactly look at them differently, but they sat there stunned, as if their worldview had been completely overturned.
Draco, in particular, had his tightly clenched little fists trembling slightly.
"Today we'll learn a more practical spell!"
Quirrell returned to the podium and drew his wand. "It's difficult, but it's a good way to deal with dark wizards."
"Shield Charm— "
The transparent barrier at the tip of the staff, like a shield, almost completely enveloped him.
"It can not only deflect spells, but it is also indestructible."
Vincent raised his hand and waited politely.
"Speak, Wayne."
His gaze was focused on the Alder Wand. "Professor, if the Shield Charm is cast using the technique of the Nonverbal spells, can it still deflect attacks from the other side?"
As you know, my wand is also made of alder.
Quirrell quickly calmed down. "This isn't first-year curriculum."
"But the Shield Charm isn't part of the first-year curriculum."
He chuckled and removed the Shield Charm from the tip of his staff, then used the technique of the Nonverbal spells to cast a smaller barrier.
"The most important thing for Nonverbal spells is concentration. Without the help of the spell, the power of any spell will be greatly reduced."
"I understand." Vincent sat down.
He seemed to be in a good mood.
Quirrell may appear to be like that, but his inner self is not.
Voldemort was very unhappy.
It's alright if you fall for a kid's trick, even if it's your nemesis Harry.
"Whoever successfully casts the Shield Charm will get 10 points."
As soon as Quirrell finished speaking, the atmosphere in the classroom became lively.
Despite the high level of difficulty, the students were all giving it their all.
"Can you, Vincent?"
I guess so.
Now that Quirrell has taken the initiative to uncover the first layer, the next step is to find a well-known figure in the Wizarding World, preferably a student with excellent character and academic performance, to join him.
Vincent glanced at Harry, "Although he's not very skilled yet."
Neville pouted. "I always feel like we don't live in the same world."
"How could that be? I always felt that you were like Professor Quirrell, planning to play dumb to surprise everyone."
"A tiger?" Neville shrank back. "I wouldn't dare eat a tiger."
Vincent shook his head and sighed, "Come to my house sometime, and I'll show you around."
"What are you going to see?"
"A horror movie, and a good way to test your courage."
"Okay—alright." Neville was terrified.
Unlike the relaxed atmosphere here, Hermione is practicing diligently.
Exposing Quirrell is important, but learning is the most important thing.
"This is not something a first grader can learn."
Ron, who was next to her, threw his wand onto the desk. "The professor is trying to intimidate us."
"Shh—" Harry glanced at Quirrell, who was resting his chin on his hands on the podium.
Seeing that the other person wasn't paying attention, he whispered, "The professor isn't a petty person. We really didn't think much of him before."
Ron turned his head to look in the other direction. "Vincent is so relaxed. He must have already learned it last time."
"Probably," Harry said with an awkward laugh. "We can't always rely on him, can we?"
"You're right."
Hermione, who had wanted to say something several times, calmed down.
Others may only know that Vincent is an all-powerful genius, but she knows the price behind it.
Teaching combat sports after finishing classes during the day;
I'm going to have Quidditch training this afternoon;
They would use their evening strolls to learn various spells;
Occasionally, I would brew some inexpensive Potions.
Owl Court Club is established, many older students will definitely join.
As far as she knew, Cedric and Cho had already made arrangements in advance and were just waiting for Dumbledore's official announcement.
"Shield Charm— "
After 27 attempts, she successfully created a fist-sized barrier at the tip of the staff.
"Well done, Granger!"
Quirrell, looking somewhat pleased, immediately added 10 points to Gryffindor's score.
Then they turned their attention to Vincent.
The Shield Charm proved to be no challenge for him; in fact, its size was enough to barely cover his upper body.
"Excellent, Wayne!"
These 20 points spurred Draco on.
But no matter how he tried, the Shield Charm always ended in failure.
Vincent is no match for Hermione.
Even if it were Harry or Ron, he wouldn't feel this bad.
"Class dismissed." Quirrell stood up decisively and left the classroom.
What happened in that lesson spread like a virus throughout the entire castle.
Great Hall.
"Cedric, you'd never guess what happened today."
A handsome and sunny Hufflepuff student sat down next to him.
"I already knew before I came, Rolf."
Rolf shook his head with some regret, "I never expected Professor Quirrell to have this kind of personality."
He taught us a good lesson.
Cedric didn't reply; he was quietly thinking about something.
"Do you feel like something's not right?"
He nodded slightly. "Everything happened so suddenly—I mean Wayne's question."
"That's what I think too." Rolf glanced at the Gryffindor table. "The noises coming from the kitchen lately at night might be from them."
Cedric followed the gaze and saw Fred and George bouncing around.
"Rolf, don't you need to prepare for the OWLs exam?"
"My grandpa isn't coming, wouldn't it be better to have an easier semester?"
Thinking of the other party's grandfather's famous name, Cedric couldn't help but shake his head and smile bitterly.
"Rolf, Mr. Scamander will be very sad if he finds out."
"Studying is so boring." Rolf tightened his school uniform slightly. "Look at Wayne, I'm sure he's always very busy."
Cedric, with his sharp eyes, spotted the half-green thing. "You didn't just go to the Forbidden Forest again, did you?"
"No, I was just passing by."