Quirrell, the Chosen Worker

Hearing Silan's words, George and Fred hid the lamp inside their robes.

So the light would not leak through the crack beneath the door.

The three pressed themselves against the classroom door and listened carefully to the sounds outside.

Unsteady footsteps came from beyond the door, making it sound as though whoever it was could barely walk straight.

"Who is it?" George asked quietly.

Silan recalled the name he had just seen on the map.

"Professor Quirrell."

"Why would he be out this late?"

"Guess he can't sleep."

Without the lamp's light, Silan could only rely on their voices to judge George and Fred's positions.

Now, their voices came from in front of and behind him, sandwiching Silan in the middle.

"Give me some light." Silan held the Marauder's Map in his hands.

Fred lifted a corner of his robe, letting an extremely thin sliver of light slip through the folds and fall onto the map.

"He's about to pass by."

"Let's open the door and take a look."

George cast a spell on the door with his wand, ensuring it would not make the slightest sound. Then, at an incredibly slow pace, he pulled it open by the tiniest crack.

The three of them stacked their heads one atop another and peered out through the gap.

The Weasley twins were two years older than Silan and slightly taller than him.

So both their heads were above his.

Through the crack, Silan saw Quirrell staggering along the wall, looking as though he had run out of strength.

"Look at him. He's practically drunk."

"What's wrapped around him?"

"Looks like spider silk?"

"Wow, that must have been one huge spider. Ron would love it if we gave it to him." As Fred spoke, the breath from his nostrils blew onto George's head, making it itch a little.

If poor Ron had been there and heard his brothers planning to give him a giant spider, who knew what he would have thought.

Quirrell slowly shuffled forward with one hand against the wall.

Every step seemed to drain all the strength from his body. The pain in his head felt as though two Trolls were tugging at his brain in a game of tug-of-war.

"Kill Potter! Kill Potter!"

The hoarse voice kept circling through his mind, every syllable like a sharp steel needle stabbing back and forth inside his skull.

After piercing countless holes into his head, that voice seemed to gain an echo.

Making his suffering even worse.

Ever since he had seen Harry Potter at the start of term, the Dark Lord at the back of his head had become increasingly restless. He screamed in Quirrell's mind every day.

To prolong his life, the Dark Lord had also kept urging him to capture Unicorns.

But how could Unicorns possibly be so easy to catch?

He had searched the Forbidden Forest for half the night. Let alone a Unicorn, he had not even found a single strand of Unicorn hair. Instead, he had been chased by Acromantulas for ages and nearly became their midnight snack.

"Kill Potter! Kill Potter!"

The voice in his head continued roaring, practically tearing his skull in two.

"Master, my great Master! The wisest and most powerful Dark Lord in the world, please calm yourself. Dumbledore is still at Hogwarts."

Quirrell leaned against the wall and caught his breath, doing his best to soothe the voice in his head.

"If I move against Potter now, I'll expose your existence. It isn't time yet. You still need to gather strength."

Fortunately, Voldemort, in his fragmented-soul state, had not completely lost his reason.

Upon hearing Dumbledore's name, he calmed down somewhat and stopped frantically urging Quirrell on.

Feeling the tearing pain in his head lessen by more than half, Quirrell finally let out a breath and straightened up against the wall. He turned and glanced behind him.

The empty corridor was as deep and dark as a sheet of black cloth.

By the faint moonlight, Quirrell realized he was near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

That reminded him that he still had class to teach tomorrow.

The headache that had just eased surged back again.

Working for Hogwarts during the day, working for Voldemort at night.

When would this miserable life ever end?

After the chosen worker Quirrell left, Silan and the other two finally slipped out of the classroom.

Before parting, Silan reminded them of something.

"Don't forget to bring Harry to me. I can't sell the map without his help."

"No problem."

The next day at noon.

After lunch, Ron and Harry headed toward the study room together.

Along the way, Ron kept complaining to Harry about the Potions homework Snape had assigned.

"Six inches of parchment!"

Ron shouted in an exaggerated tone, "How am I supposed to finish that?"

It was not as though he had not considered writing bigger and spacing the lines farther apart. But Snape had extremely strict standards for Potions assignments, and little tricks like that would never work on him.

Last week, Ron had watched Snape send back every substandard assignment for rewriting and even take twenty points from Gryffindor while he was at it.

Ron knew there were also Slytherin students with inadequate assignments.

But Snape only deducted points over Gryffindor homework.

Fairness was clearly not his strong suit.

"Even Snape's hair might not be six inches long," Ron muttered with a pout, then pleaded with Harry, "You have to help me."

"Why don't you ask Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Don't even mention her. I don't know what's wrong with her lately, but she looks like she wants to bite someone all day. I wouldn't dare go near her."

As they talked while walking, neither of them noticed George and Fred approaching from ahead.

"Hello, Harry." The Weasley twins held out their hands to him.

"Hello."

Harry greeted them, but his outstretched hand froze in midair.

He did not know which one he was supposed to shake hands with first.

George and Fred each grabbed one of his arms and pulled him over to their side.

"We need your help with something."

"Come with us."

The Weasley twins spoke one after the other.

"Wait, you can't take him!" Ron grabbed Harry's other hand. "We still have homework to do."

"Then I suggest you hurry up and get to it."

Fred waved a black-painted origami spider in front of him.

Ron was so frightened that he immediately let go.

George said with a grin, "Watch out, Professor Snape might press your head into a cauldron."

The two ignored Ron after that and dragged Harry away to find Silan.

Ron stood in the courtyard, watching the three figures leave, feeling indignant.

What the hell were those two brothers up to?!

Ron trudged upstairs dejectedly and ran straight into Hermione.

Though reluctant, he forced himself to speak for the sake of finishing his Potions homework sooner. "Hermione, could you..."

"No."

"I haven't even said anything yet!" Ron snapped.

Hermione ignored him and carried her books toward the library.

Ron stood in the corridor with a completely baffled expression.

Why?

No, what did I do?

Why was everyone treating me like this?

Harry, who had been dragged away by George and Fred, was equally confused.

He quietly asked, "What is this about?"

"Our cousin wants to ask you for a little help. It's just a small matter."

"You'll find out when you see him."