Quirrell's Anomaly

"You hung everyone upside down in mid-air... that's really impressive. I don't think I can beat you when it comes to spells."

"Is this why I'm being confined? How exactly am I confined? Have I lost points?" Brie was annoyed. These troublemakers had gotten themselves into trouble and dragged him down with them. Confinement was just a waste of his study time!

"You haven't lost points." Hermione said helplessly. Brie cared too much about points, though he did earn them in almost every class. Except for History of Magic, but she thought about it, and she was the same way. This time, however... she continued, "Slytherin and Gryffindor were docked fifty points."

"Fifty points! I've only earned less than a hundred points so far, and they deducted fifty from me. Hogwarts isn't just Slytherin and Gryffindor, Ravenclaw might have already surpassed us!"

Hearing Brie's anger, Hermione suddenly felt angry too. She gritted her teeth and said, "That's not all. Later, Harry and Weasley were each docked another fifty points, I was docked twenty points, and Malfoy, as the mastermind, was docked seventy points."

Seventy points!

Brie now felt like rushing over to Slytherin and beating Malfoy up. He hadn't earned that many points in over a week, and it had all been deducted. This was all the result of Brie's hard work and sweet talk!

But there was nothing he could do now. He could only work hard to earn them back. Brie was confident he could, but he was still so unwilling!

"Then what about my confinement? It's not like I'll be cleaning slugs for Snape, is it?" If that were the case, Brie would definitely throw Malfoy into a bucket and let him have a happy time with the slugs to vent his anger.

"No, you're going to Professor Quirrell's. The slugs are their problem, the three of them."

Fine, garlic was much better than slugs.

"Oh, and Brie, Professor Aurora Sinistra from Astronomy class informed us that the weather tonight isn't suitable for stargazing, so your Slytherin and Hufflepuff classes have been moved to Friday."

"Okay, I understand. I'll have to go see Professor Quirrell tonight then."

Brie quickly finished dinner and left the Hospital Wing after saying goodbye to Hermione.

"Breeze Order?"

Not long after Brie walked out, he saw a Slytherin upperclassman approaching.

"I'm the Slytherin seventh-year prefect. We apologize for what happened before..." As he apologized, Brie saw no sincerity in the man's eyes, more like... charity?

"No need, Prefect. I think everyone is quite satisfied with the current situation." Brie ignored the man. Slytherins never did anything meaningless. Brie held the initiative now; he wasn't stupid.

"You'd best not do anything foolish."

The prefect stood behind Brie, his face ashen, saying nothing.

Brie headed towards the third floor. The third floor was the office of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirrell, and where Brie's confinement was to take place today.

"Knock, knock, knock..."

"Come, come in." Professor Quirrell opened the door and said, "Your con, confinement is every night, for a week."

Quirrell took out a black book and handed it to Brie, saying, "Your mis, mission is to study the contents of this book. For future classes, you, you will need to assist me."

Brie took the black book. It was a well-worn notebook, and the title page read - Quirinus Quirrell.

"This is my notebook." Quirrell looked at Brie with deep eyes, his words filled with temptation. When Brie looked up, he was drawn in by that gaze.

"I know you are a little wizard who loves to learn, so the assistant position is what you need. I believe you will be willing to help me."

Brie, with vacant eyes, nodded. Unbeknownst to him, with this nod, a weak contract was formed, connecting Brie and Quirrell above their heads. Quirrell was the witness.

Instantly, Brie's expression returned to normal. He looked at Quirrell as if nothing had happened and said, "Don't worry, Professor Quirrell, I will be a good assistant."

"Of, of course, I will also give my assistant, appropriate extra, extra points." Professor Quirrell seemed to revert to his timid self, walking back to his seat in his office, and then said to Brie, "You can stay, stay here, or go back to study, study. You don't need to come, come back tonight."

Brie's eyes lit up. He certainly wouldn't stay in this place that reeked of garlic.

"See you then, Professor Quirrell. I will diligently complete my assistant duties next Monday!"

Brie happily took Quirrell's notebook and left. After he was gone.

"Mas, master, why did you form such a contract with that boy..." Quirrell was somewhat fearful, as the contract consumed his life force. This contract could only strengthen its power through mutual assistance between the two parties; otherwise, the restriction would be very weak.

Quirrell slowly removed his turban, revealing a terrifying, noseless face on his bald head.

He whispered in a hoarse voice:

"He is not ordinary. If I didn't use this weak contract, he would have discovered it... Naturally occurring Legilimency cannot control someone for long, unless his soul has opened a gap for me."

"What's wrong with 'mutual help'? I give him power, and he becomes my servant. It's very fair!"

"An orphan led into the abyss. This is truly the most comforting thing that has happened in over a decade."

Brie walked towards the eighth floor with Quirrell's notebook. The contents of the book were indeed useful, but Brie felt something was strange.

What had happened?

As soon as Brie returned to the Owlery, he heard Faner, perched on a bronze lampstand, roar, "You've found someone new behind my back!"

With that, it rushed onto Brie, sniffing and smelling him all over, then looked dejected. "How could you insult me!"

"Do you think this kind of contract can hide it from me?"

"No!"

"What happened?" Brie curiously lifted the tip of Faner's bronze tail and tapped its snake head. "Explain."

"Hmph, this is a very well-hidden contract. If I hadn't formed another contract with you before, I wouldn't have discovered it."

"It's a double, equal contract... Hmph, the other party helps you obtain what you need, and you must also help the other party obtain what they want, but it requires becoming more and more deeply involved subtly..."

Faner realized what was happening and looked at Brie in shock and anger. "Someone wants to harm you!"

"He's framing me..." Breeze's brow twitched. He pursed his lips, tossed the notes in his hand onto the desk, and gently flipped through them with his wand, but found nothing unusual.

"Let me see!"

Faner volunteered, spitting lamp oil onto the notes. Breeze quickly moved them away.

"This should just be ordinary notes." Breeze's expression was grim. He never expected Quirrell to target him. Could a professor do such a thing to a student?

He flipped through them again and again, finally finding something on one page—

"The Power Brought by the Soul?"

The few words made Breeze's pupils widen.

Breeze examined them closely and quickly found the key point—

Everyone has a soul, but only dark magic can control souls. The treasure left by the ancient Slytherin, the Vessel of the Soul, brought new life to the soul and awakened the power within.

To see the soul, darkness is the only path.

"Darkness is the only path?"

Breeze also saw some dark magic listed below. What surprised Breeze the most was that besides the Three Unforgivable Curses, there was also Fiendfyre and Necromancy, extreme dark magic.

But Breeze always remembered.

"To cast any dark magic, one needs matching malice."

He tossed the notes aside. No matter how powerful the dark magic recorded on them was, Breeze did not rashly touch it. Reason was always Breeze's most resilient strength.

"Professor Quirrell, what exactly do you want to do?"

Breeze silently closed his eyes and then saw a terrifying face. He rasped, "I will give you power, and you will obey me..."

A faint thread, almost imperceptible, was wrapped around Breeze's wrist. Breeze could sense it through his natural abilities. A gentle tug would break it, but...

"I will not gain power from you."

Breeze completely ignored the notes and instead took out the notes he had obtained from The Owlery and began to read them silently.

"Compared to this, you're too stingy, Professor Quirrell. The magic you wanted to teach me is in these notes, and it's more detailed than what you said. It even has a method to resist inner erosion, though I don't think much of that method either."

As time passed, the second day arrived. Potions Class in the early morning made Breeze feel disgusted. However, the three troublemakers were even more miserable. If it weren't for them handling the slugs for today's class, Breeze's expression might have been even worse.

"Mr. Order +5 points for an excellent Cold Remedy Potion."

Snape walked up to Breeze, picked up the pink potion, and in a few steps, reached Harry, who was not far away. He pinched Harry's chin and said, "Drink it."

Harry swallowed the potion with humiliation. Ron, standing beside him, sympathized with Harry's plight. Seeing Harry's pained expression as he glared, Ron cursed Snape hundreds of times in his heart.

"Bitter! Haa..."

"Hmm, good." Snape sneered with satisfaction.

"It seems Mr. Order is indeed excellent."

As Harry continuously stuck out his tongue, hot air erupted from his ears. This was the normal reaction for someone with a cold after drinking the potion. Last night, Harry, Ron, and Malfoy had all gotten sick after washing slugs with cold water and roughhousing, making a mess of the area. Snape, upon returning to his office, was furious and sent them away. Unsurprisingly, all three fell ill the next day.

"Hahaha..." Soon, the classroom was filled with laughter, leaving Harry embarrassed and helpless.

"Malfoy, take your potion with you after class. As for Mr. Weasley, you can try to find someone willing to help you. I haven't delivered the Cold Remedy Potion from the Hospital Wing yet, so going there won't do any good."

After speaking, Snape said, "Clean your cauldrons. I want an essay on this lesson by next Wednesday, five inches long. Class dismissed."

With that, he strode away.

"Pfft, who would be willing to help Weasley? Harry Potter? Or the spoiled swill in your cauldrons?" Malfoy bottled the pink potion from the cauldron and arrogantly left with his cronies.

"Damn it, damn Malfoy!"

"Ron... I think we need to find Hermione. In Gryffindor, only she successfully made the potion, even though Snape didn't even look at it."

Breeze cleaned his cauldron and said to Hermione, "Want to go to the library to write the essay together, Hermione?"

Hermione bottled her potion, snorted, and handed it to Harry, who was looking expectant. Then she said to Ron, "Drink it now."

Just as Ron was about to say something, Harry, with hot air steaming from his ears, brought the potion to Ron's lips. Seeing Hermione's fierce gaze, Ron relented. Soon, hot air also steamed from his ears, and Hermione's brow relaxed. She said cheerfully, "Let's go, Breeze, let's go write the essay!"