The Next Day

The eastern horizon had just revealed a sliver of fish-belly white when Li Mu opened his eyes. The morning sun, filtering through the circular windows in the walls, cast down strands of cool, bright light.

His two roommates' soft snores rose and fell rhythmically, while Li Mu, who had been sitting in a meditative posture all night, was now full of energy and spirit, with no soreness or swelling in his legs. Long accustomed to training, he was no longer like he had been when he first started meditating, unable to even last a quarter of an hour.

He looked at the sky; it was probably around six-thirty in the morning. His biological clock had become accustomed to waking him up at this time.

"Ernie? Justin?" He jumped out of bed and called out softly twice.

There was no response, of course there wouldn't be a response; they were sound asleep. Li Mu shook his head helplessly, lightened his footsteps, left the dormitory, and then left the common room. In addition to meditation, he also maintained the habit of jogging in the morning. The early morning sun, when spiritual energy rises, is the best time to absorb the essence of the sun and moon. After he ran around the castle five or six times and returned to the Great Hall on the first floor, he indeed met his old friends coming down for breakfast.

Hermione, on either side, practically dragged the sleepy-eyed Harry and Ron through the door.

"Good morning," Li Mu said, standing up from the Hufflepuff table and waving his hand. "Come and eat here together."

He saw Hermione nod with a smile, then put her hands on her hips and pointed at herself: "You two take a look, you finished cleaning together! Or are you planning to be late again and have our house points deducted to zero?!"...

Honestly—Li Mu looked at the sunlight coming in through the hall door—there was still more than an hour before being late...

Harry and Ron just drooped their heads and lowered their eyelids, looking like they were about to fall asleep standing up; they didn't even have the strength to speak.

After breakfast, it was time for class. The first week of classes were all large lectures attended by all the first-year students from the four houses, and today's class was no exception. Li Mu was very interested in this morning's class because it was called—"History of Magic."

With the experience of the first day, this time they went upstairs early, entered the classroom, arranged their books, sat upright, and waited for Professor Binns, who taught this course—a ghost who had been dead for many years—to float into the classroom through the wall, and then...

Then there was nothing after that.

When Li Mu realized something was wrong, he raised his head from the crook of his arm and pinched his left arm hard with his right hand. The stinging sensation attacked along his nerves, finally freeing him from his dazed state. He widened his eyes to prevent himself from falling asleep again, and then craned his neck to look around.

He saw a sea of drooping heads, some even completely lying on the desks—everyone in the classroom except Hermione and him had been gloriously hypnotized onto their desks by Professor Binns... Oh, perhaps Hermione was about to follow suit; her head was comically bobbing up and down, as if bowing to Professor Binns.

It seems my willpower is quite good, Li Mu finally had some confidence. At this moment, he could still hear Professor Binns's buzzing, bee-like voice echoing in his ears, or rather, it would be more accurate to describe it as "chanting." Professor Binns's teaching had a strange magic to it. The textbook History of Magic written by Miranda Goshawk was not actually boring. Li Mu believed that if he were to read this book on his own, he would definitely enjoy it.

However, once Professor Binns's voice was added, this class became a powerful sleeping pill. This made Li Mu sigh with emotion: the school's decision was really wise, to hire such a good teacher, not only saving on saliva costs, room and board, and wages from the office budget—ghosts obviously don't need these things—but also being able to replace expensive, top-grade sleeping pills...

And in the afternoon's Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Li Mu found that he couldn't sleep even if he wanted to. As soon as he stepped into the classroom door, he was almost gloriously knocked out by a strange smell. He was considered lucky; Neville Longbottom's injuries had only just gotten a little better, and now, upon smelling this odor, he almost rolled his eyes and was sent to the medical ward again. However, they couldn't dispel this smell—unless they wanted to skip class directly, because the source of the smell was the teacher of this course.

Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor Quirrell, wrapped in a thick odor, was already standing on the podium waiting for them.

"Fred and George said that Professor Quirrell once encountered a vampire, and he was so scared that he was afraid the vampire would chase him. As a result, he stuffed himself with a lot of garlic every moment," Harry said softly, covering his nose, looking like he was not feeling well either.

"Uh? As far as I know, vampires aren't afraid of garlic... but from this smell, maybe the vampire really was fainted by him," Li Mu said with a straight face, pinching his nose.

He thought: This is probably not just the smell of garlic, right? Or rather, garlic is just used to cover up another strange smell—a zombie-like stench.

Ron and Neville obviously took Li Mu's words as a cold joke, and they giggled together. Hermione frowned beside them and rebuked: "Hey! You can't do this... Professor Quirrell is still a professor... You!"

She seemed a little exasperated, as if Li Mu and the others had made a huge mistake. But basically, no one listened to her. Neville looked at her in fear, while Ron turned his face away with some dissatisfaction. Even Harry shrugged and remained silent.

The class started quickly. Soon, even Hermione had to secretly doubt Professor Quirrell's level. Stuttering? That wasn't the main point.

When Professor Quirrell haltingly recounted the scene of his battle with a Reanimated Zombie, Gryffindor's Seamus Finnigan interjected: "Professor, tell us about the process, I want to know some details."

"That's right, that's right, Pro, Pro, Professor Quirrell. Wh, wh, what does a Re, Reanimated Zo, Zombie look like?" Ron, not knowing what nerve he had touched, also asked in Professor Quirrell's style. Everyone else was amused by him, only Hermione snorted and frowned at him.

"Oh, oh, Re, Re, Reanimated Zo, Zombie..." Professor Quirrell's face turned red and then white, which in Li Mu's eyes was simply a combination of Neville and Hinata—Hinata always blushed when nervous, while Neville often looked pale when nervous.

Just when the students thought that Professor Quirrell was about to faint from embarrassment, Quirrell suddenly stopped speaking. He narrowed his eyes, his eyes flashed with a sharp light, and an unparalleled aura, carrying a strong garlic smell, rushed towards them. Li Mu was stunned: Is this the legendary explosion of the aura of a king?

But Professor Quirrell ignored Li Mu's surprise. He silently put his hands behind his back, raised his head to the sky, and struck a desolate pose of a peerless master, and then... the freshmen heard him say the most fluent sentence of the entire class—

"The weather is really nice today."

This sentence caused a large number of students in the whole class to laugh for several minutes. Undoubtedly, after today's class, Professor Quirrell's legendary deeds will add another glorious chapter.

Until the end of the class, Professor Quirrell almost stumbled out of the door. Many students, including Ron and others, were still laughing and talking about Professor Quirrell. But Hermione couldn't stand it.

"I warn you! You can't do this!" she shouted, stomping her feet and walking away angrily, leaving Li Mu and the others in a daze for a while.

Neville said in fear, "She's not angry, is she?"

Ron stared at her back with a livid face: "Ignore that weirdo."

(End of this chapter)