Quirrell Gets Set Up

Quirrell Gets Set Up

Harry looked as though he were seriously enjoying the food, but in truth, his attention was elsewhere.

When he saw that Quirrell was absent from the teachers' table, Harry gave a sly grin.

Quirrell, I'll just sit back and watch you put on your ****!

Harry picked up a roast potato and bit into it viciously, like a wolf tearing into its prey.

He chatted happily with the students around him while keeping an eye on the entrance to the Great Hall.

Just as everyone had completely immersed themselves in the cheerful holiday atmosphere, someone burst through the doors of the Great Hall.

A large turban was wrapped around his head. As soon as he entered, he cried out in terror, "Oh no, it's a troll! A troll has entered the dungeons..."

Thud.

He collapsed heavily to the floor, sending dust flying.

A girl screamed, setting off chaos in the Great Hall.

Everything descended into disorder.

The students swarmed about like buzzing bees, crashing into one another throughout the Great Hall. Several had already been knocked to the ground. If this continued, plenty of people would probably end up at St Mungo's Hospital.

The students shrieked in panic, creating a complete mess.

The teachers were stunned by the sudden turn of events. When they recovered, they raised their wands but did not know what to do for the moment.

However, Harry's area stood out sharply from the rest. No one there was running about wildly; there was only some jostling.

Harry did not appear particularly frightened, and calmness could be contagious. He affected the people around him.

Harry suddenly stomped hard on Dean's foot. Rather than lifting his foot, he twisted his heel viciously.

"Ah..."

Dean's foot had come under sudden attack, and the intense pain made him scream uncontrollably.

Prepared in advance, Harry cast an Amplifying Charm on Dean, and his scream instantly carried throughout the hall.

The unending scream made many people frown tightly. It pierced their eardrums so painfully that they had no choice but to cover their ears.

That scream drowned out all the chaotic noise in the Great Hall, and the hall gradually quieted down.

"Are you really wizards? It's only a troll. Sure, trolls have thick hides and massive bodies, and ordinary magic does nothing to them, but have you forgotten how many teachers are standing in this room?"

"What we need to do now is quietly return to our common rooms. Oh, and don't forget to bring the food from the tables back to the dormitories. On a day like this, everyone can sit together in the common room, warm yourselves by the fire, and enjoy some good food. A long time from now, perhaps you'll even miss this special Halloween." Harry's unhurried voice came from within the crowd.

This calmed even more people, and they were no longer as frightened as before.

Then they were drawn in by what Harry had said. It was a wonderful suggestion.

Headmaster Dumbledore lowered the wand he had been about to raise and gave Harry an approving smile.

He said calmly, "Prefects of each House, lead your students back to their dormitories."

As soon as the headmaster spoke, the students immediately began lining up under the prefects' guidance and leaving one after another. Before departing, though, they all picked up plates from the tables. Thus, several long lines slowly moved forward, every person carrying two plates of food.

Harry glanced at the spot where Quirrell had collapsed earlier. There was no one there anymore. He must have fled during the confusion.

It was only a pity that Harry knew too few spells with powerful offensive capabilities. Otherwise, if Quirrell had died on the fourth floor where the Philosopher's Stone was hidden today, wise Headmaster Dumbledore would naturally have guessed Quirrell's objective.

Then Harry would not have needed to consider how to expose Quirrell's identity. Explaining it would be far too troublesome. Even the greatest wizard in the magical world had not discovered it, yet Harry had. Why should anyone believe him?

Harry walked at the back of the Gryffindor House line, while Hermione clung tightly to his arm.

Harry said helplessly, "Hermione, I can't carry anything like this."

Hermione ignored him, so Harry could only walk forward as though he had a koala hanging from him.

Percy led the group from the front while comforting the younger students.

Soon, everyone reached the dormitories.

"Dragon's Lair," Percy said.

The Fat Lady opened the passage, and the students crawled through one by one. The entrance closed again, and the warm room gave them a unique sense of security.

The tension on many faces finally eased completely, as though reaching the dormitories meant they were safe.

Before long, the dormitory became lively again, even more so than the Great Hall had been. Perhaps they wanted to use this to ease the unease in their hearts.

Some first-years even wanted to perform the Levitation Charm. The result of failure was that the floating plates smashed into their heads, and cream cakes got plastered all over their faces.

Harry said, "Hermione, you should let go now."

Hermione, who had kept her head lowered, hurriedly released Harry and ran over to the girls' side.

As Harry tasted a piece of chocolate cake, he thought of the troll in the dungeons.

What a poor thing! It had been used by Quirrell.

It must be getting tortured by several teachers right now.

Causing trouble on Halloween meant the teachers would naturally vent all their anger on it.

I wonder how far Professor Quirrell has gotten? I wonder whether my magical traps worked?

Harry kept thinking about this until the feast ended and he lay down in bed.

Two hours earlier, after all the students had dispersed, Snape and Dumbledore exchanged a glance. Snape hurried toward the fourth floor, where students were forbidden to enter.

However, the moment he reached the fourth floor, he drew his wand with lightning speed.

There were traces of residual magic in the fourth-floor corridor.

Snape moved forward carefully. He triggered several prank spells on the floorboards, but all of them were blocked by his Armor Charm.

He arrived at the only wooden door on that floor and lowered his head. There was a pool of blood on the floor, along with several scorch marks.

Snape's gaze shifted to the suit of knight armor standing beside the wooden door. It stood perfectly still, but there was blood on the axe in its hand.

"Did he just escape?" Snape said.

A question rose in his mind. Where did these spells come from?

He had no time to think it over and hurried to the dungeons.

There, he saw Quirrell with trembling lips and a pale face. He clutched his foot tightly, which was covered in blood.

The troll lay on the floor. It was unclear whether it was dead.

Professor McGonagall said reproachfully, "Professor Quirrell rushed in to deal with the troll just now and had his foot smashed by its large wooden club. It seems he'll be spending the next few days at St Mungo's Hospital."

Snape's eyes swept over Quirrell's face. He could see nothing but pain written all over it.

He fell into thought...

After waking up the next day, Harry hurried to the long corridor on the fourth floor. Sure enough, every small spell he had placed there had been triggered. When he saw the bloodstained axe, Harry frowned briefly, then smiled.

He had not expected that this thing would be what injured Quirrell. He wondered where it had struck him. It would be best if it hit him between the legs, Harry thought darkly.

Luo Bei: In the previous chapter, I wrote that there were three Quidditch matches each year. A reader said that the third book clearly stated there were six matches. I don't understand how the matches work. Can someone explain it to me?

Because in the first book, Gryffindor only played twice: the first time against Slytherin, and the second time against Hufflepuff, and then won.

That's why I guessed there were three matches each year.