Quirrell's Invitation

When the classroom suddenly fell silent, Quirrell asked again, "Can no one answer my question?"

"Malfoy, I've noticed you seem interested in Dark Magic. Can you try answering the question I just asked?"

Malfoy's stomach tightened at Quirrell's question.

He swallowed, shook his head, and quietly sat down.

Malfoy's arrogance vanished, replaced by fear. He lowered his head, not even daring to meet Professor Quirrell's eyes.

"It seems no one knows the answer!" Quirrell glanced over the Slytherin students, sounding almost disappointed.

Just as Jerry decided to play dumb, someone appeared beside his desk, accompanied by the pungent smell of garlic.

"Jerry Green, can you tell me the answer?"

The moment Jerry saw Quirrell standing beside him, he knew this was bad. Quirrell had come for him.

Jerry felt a little aggrieved. Harry Potter, the Chosen One, was sitting right in the front row. Why did they all come after Jerry instead of Harry?

It was bad enough that Dumbledore was watching him. Why was Quirrell after him now too?

What, Quirrell? Are you going to turn on me too?

Jerry stood and frowned. "Avada Kedavra?"

"Yes, well done, Jerry Green. Five points to Slytherin!" Quirrell sounded strangely excited by his answer.

No one cheered when Professor Quirrell awarded Jerry points. Even the Slytherin students showed no reaction. The entire classroom fell silent.

Almost every young wizard looked at Jerry with fear.

Watching Quirrell, Jerry strongly suspected Voldemort was controlling his body right now.

After class, Jerry had just packed up his books and was about to leave with Hermione when he noticed a change in how everyone treated him. They seemed to be deliberately keeping their distance.

Harry and Ron came over to them. Ron hesitated, then said, "Jerry, you really shouldn't say those words in public again. It's terrifying!"

Jerry thought they were making too much of it. He couldn't cast the Killing Curse and hadn't even been holding a wand. He had only said the incantation aloud.

But when he saw how nervous and frightened everyone around him looked, he nodded and agreed.

"It's Professor Quirrell's fault," Hermione said. "How could he ask such a horrible question? Defense Against the Dark Arts should teach us how to defend ourselves against Dark Magic, not discuss things that frighten and unsettle everyone!"

As they complained about Quirrell, a Slytherin student came over and interrupted them. "Jerry, Professor Quirrell wants you to come to his office. He needs to see you."

Dread welled up in Jerry. He had no idea what Quirrell—or rather, Voldemort—wanted with him.

After saying goodbye to Hermione and the others, Jerry handed his books to Hermione too. They agreed to meet at the library.

Then he took the stairs to Professor Quirrell's office.

Jerry felt uneasy. He didn't know what awaited him inside.

He knocked and entered. The first thing he saw was the large desk in the center of the office, piled with magical books and scrolls. Some of the books looked ancient, their covers yellowed with age.

A huge window filled one wall of the office. Its old stained glass depicted mysterious magical designs.

In a corner on the other side stood a massive bookshelf packed with hefty magical tomes. Jerry didn't dare look too closely, afraid he might see a book he shouldn't.

"Welcome, welcome, Mr. Green! Sit down and let's talk."

Quirrell no longer had the timid manner he'd shown in class. Even his stutter was gone.

"Professor Quirrell, what did you want to see me about?"

"Nothing much," Quirrell replied. "You said that incantation in class. I thought it might be weighing on you, so I wanted to reassure you."

The Dark Lord is worried I might be tempted by Dark Magic, so he's giving me a counseling session? Is this some new kind of sick joke?

"Professor Quirrell, I'm fine, really. It hasn't affected me much. My friends are waiting, though. Could I leave now?"

Quirrell ignored him and continued. "You're capable, talented, and most importantly, ambitious. Jerry, I truly admire you. Would you like to see real Dark Magic?"

Before Jerry could answer, Quirrell drew his wand and aimed it at a mouse near the corner of the desk.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A sickly green light burst from the tip of his wand and shot through the air like a venomous snake, striking its target.

The light swallowed the mouse. It gave one shriek and fell still, leaving only a faint green glow flickering around its body.

Ding! Avada Kedavra Lv1, 76.5%

Seeing Jerry frozen in place, Quirrell cast another Killing Curse at a second unfortunate mouse.

Ding! Avada Kedavra Lv2, 1.65%

Holy shit. So this is what talent for Dark Magic beyond human limits looks like! Jerry leaned back.

Jerry stumbled several steps backward. The Killing Curse had scared him, but he was even more afraid Voldemort was about to reveal himself. If that happened, Jerry might never make it out of this office.

Jerry hurried to stop Quirrell from doing anything else. "Professor, how can you cast an Unforgivable Curse in front of a first-year?"

Seeing Jerry panic, Quirrell said, "Jerry, you're different from the others. You're more talented and stronger than any of them. Teachers always favor their best students a little, don't they?"

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Jerry thought, If Dumbledore hears that, will he decide I'm one of Voldemort's accomplices and deal with me too?

Quirrell took a piece of parchment from a drawer and handed it to Jerry. "This bears my written authorization. It will let you into the library's Restricted Section. Go have a look around! Trust me, you'll learn a great deal."

Jerry took the authorization, said goodbye to Quirrell, and left his office.

Once Jerry emerged from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he realized cold sweat had soaked his back.

He hurried toward the end of the corridor, eager to get away from the place. The morning had been far too nerve-racking.