Quirrell stared blankly at Ethan's outstretched hand, unable to recover for a long time.
H-He agreed just like that?
That easily?
Why? In Ethan's eyes, shouldn't he be nothing more than an incompetent, fake professor?
Could it be... Ethan had discovered his true identity?
In an instant, Quirrell's heart skipped a beat.
A trace of panic and viciousness flashed through his eyes, and his hand instinctively closed around his wand.
The next moment, a sharp gaze pinned him down from head to toe.
"..."
Quirrell's body began to tremble faintly.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Headmaster Dumbledore looking down at him.
...Calm down. Calm down.
Don't expose yourself.
Quirrell slowly drew in a breath, raised his head, and met Ethan's pure, innocent smile.
The boy extended a fair little hand, roughened by calluses.
Under the reflection of the chandelier hanging above the Great Hall, Ethan seemed to radiate a halo of holy light, like a savior filled with compassion, reaching out to guide a villain onto the right path.
...Well, this kid probably wouldn't lie.
He definitely doesn't know my true identity. Maybe he's just curious and wants to see what exactly I'll teach him.
With that thought, the panic in Quirrell's heart gradually faded.
He pulled his lips into a "delighted" smile, grasped Ethan's outstretched hand, and stammered, "Th-Thank you so much! I-I'll definitely prove myself. Y-Your choice wasn't wrong, Mr. Vincent!"
Ethan smiled faintly. "No need to thank me, Professor Quirrell. I happen to have some research related to painting and was hoping to seek your help."
At those words, Quirrell's eyes lit up.
What a coincidence!
His master had just ordered him to uncover the secrets of Ethan's enchanted paintings!
"Y-You can count on me! I'll do everything, everything I can to help you!"