Ryan's Lie
The corridor on the third floor was very quiet at this moment.
Despite Madam Pomfrey's repeated insistence, Ron reluctantly embarked on the journey to the Defense Against the Dark Arts with Harry.
"It's so unfair. I heard that other students are forbidden from going to class for even the slightest illness and have to stay in the Hospital Wing. Why is it like this for me?" Ron said slowly as he walked.
"Shut up, Ron. It's 3:35. We're already late," Harry said, frowning. In Harry's opinion, if Ron hadn't been dragging his feet, they wouldn't have taken so long to get to the third floor.
Moreover, it's not pleasant to suddenly walk in during class and be stared at by everyone, especially since the professor is Quirrell, whom you knocked unconscious twice.
"Harry, we're already late, maybe we should just skip it. Professor Quirrell smells awful." Ron had said this for what seemed like the umpteenth time, and Harry had become immune to it, pretending not to hear him.
"Harry, we—" Ron repeated, but was interrupted by Harry, "Ron, Dumbledore said he would talk to Professor Quirrell about the smell. I believe it will be much better this time."
Then Harry regretted it. When he and Ron stepped into the classroom, they were greeted not by the fragrance they had imagined, but by that familiar sour smell.
Hmm, no, it's still a bit too light, it seems like I've applied a little perfume.
Unlike students from other houses or their own upperclassmen, they were already used to Professor Quirrell's pungent smell. There was even a Gryffindor third-year student named Devon who always insisted on sitting in the front row, afraid of missing out on the aroma.
He even became more studious because of this, constantly pestering Professor Quirrell. However, recently, for some unknown reason, he suddenly got carried away and made a bet with someone about how many Pixie eggs he ate. As a result, he was sent to St. Mungo's's and dropped out of school.
Professor Quirrell reportedly lost several pounds as a result.
However, Ryan knew the specific reason for all this. Quirrell had been taking advantage of helping Dumbledore set up the defensive Philosopher's Stone for the past week to go to the forbidden area on the fourth floor whenever he had time.
Devon kept pestering him at this time, and if it weren't for Dumbledore's sake, this student would probably have gone to see Merlin long ago.
He shouldn't have been in such a hurry. In the original timeline, he should have waited until Halloween at the end of next month to pretend that the Troll were invading Hogwarts and try to steal the Philosopher's Stone.
However, Harry's two previous purifications not only failed to restore Quirrell's life, but also increased Voldemort's control over Quirrell, although this was largely due to Quirrell's own arrogance and attempts to manipulate Voldemort (control him) while Voldemort was asleep under Harry's spell.
Ryan was also puzzled as to why this guy hadn't taken advantage of this great opportunity to go to Dumbledore, Dumbledore could handle these things.
But he brought this upon himself. So be it, Ryan has already given him a chance.
Meanwhile, as soon as Harry stepped into the classroom, Quirrell couldn't help but back away, acting like a little girl encountering a vicious dog. "Harry, you're here! Come on, the last row is still empty, I think it's a good spot." He was completely unaware that the last row was already packed with students because of his smell.
Harry was quite happy, though. He didn't want to get too close to Professor Quirrell, in case he ended up like that unlucky Devon. Ron, however, was very unhappy. Professor Quirrell only had eyes for Harry and didn't notice him at all, even though he had just come back from the Hospital Wing!
All I can say is that Ron always has some really weird things on his mind.
In the current Defense Against the Dark Arts, all the Ravenclaws are sitting in the last two rows.
Hermione was an exception, though. Ryan had her sit in the front row with him, and the stench around them was purified before it even got close. Quirrell, on the other hand, seemed to be blind and didn't notice this strange scene at all.
Since completing the ritual, Ryan no longer needed to care about Voldemort, Dumbledore, and the like. Therefore, Ryan dared to act this way in the Defense Against the Dark Arts, where Voldemort's Soul Fragment was present, and he was certain that Voldemort would not be able to detect him.
"Harry, have you noticed that Professor Quirrell's scent has definitely faded a bit?" Ron, squeezing next to Neville in the last row with Harry.
"Ron, are you crazy? It all stinks, and you still have time to distinguish the strength of the smell?" Neville stared wide-eyed. "Besides, it's not just fainter, it looks like they sprayed on some extra perfume."
"Harry, use that spell again, I'm about to faint." Michael's dark face suddenly appeared from the side, while Professor Quirrell on the podium continued his stammering lecture, completely ignoring the chaos below.
The reason why the Ravenclaws in the audience behaved so differently from usual was not because they disrespected knowledge, but because Professor Dumbledore had already led them through the first-year Defense Against the Dark Arts course.
With Dumbledore's help, the Ravenclaws, having memorized all the key points, will be able to study the Defense Against the Dark Arts course on their own this school year.
More importantly, Professor Quirrell himself was simply reading from the textbook.
Now, almost all the Ravenclaws suspect that Roger Davies has gone mad, saying that Quirrell was very outstanding before, an excellent senior from their own academy.
He suffered a major accident and became a stutterer, but that doesn't mean he's forgotten the knowledge itself. If Professor Quirrell hadn't just read from the textbook and had his own ideas, even with his stutter, all the Ravenclaws in the classroom wouldn't be slacking off now.
Harry suddenly realized he was a complete idiot. Ron, though averse to school, wasn't an unambitious fool. He must have considered that as well, which is why he wanted to skip class.
Back in the common room with Ron, he said to Dumbledore enjoyable?
"Michael, let's forget it. I was lucky that I didn't lose any points before. I don't want to lose my House Points like this." Harry was tempted, but after hesitating for a moment, he still refused.
Michael looked disappointed, as did Ryan, and Quirrell unconsciously let out a soft sigh of relief.
Meanwhile, Hermione was curiously observing this magical scene. None of the students or teachers around her could see her; it was as if she were in another world.
Hermione greedily inhaled the fresh air. After all, there's no harm without comparison. The familiar pungent smell when she entered the classroom earlier made her involuntarily recall the experience of using the spell to Mind-Clearing Charm and then being overwhelmed by the fumes.
"Ryan, is this a spell you learned in Atlantis?" Hermione asked, then stared at Ryan's handsome face with what she thought was an inconspicuous look.
"No, our Smith Family is inherently weak in terms of presence. If it weren't for Atlantis, I'm afraid I would have lived a lonely life forever," Ryan said in a low voice, pretending to be hurt.
"Oh, Ryan, it's all over now!" Hermione's maternal instincts kicked in, and she took Ryan's hand, holding it until the end of class before reluctantly letting go.
Hermione's openness wasn't due to shyness; after all, under the attraction of Ryan's handsome face, most women would forget what shame is.
The only reason Hermione let go was that at this time, most Hogwarts students had finished class, and all the students who hadn't had time to watch Harry and the others before because of class had gathered in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
There were too many people, and even Filch pretended not to see them, which led to Mrs. Norris dawdling in confusion.
If it weren't for Professor Quirrell, that biological weapon, clearing the way, Harry probably wouldn't have even had dinner. Hermione had no choice but to let go of Ryan's hand, but judging from her expression, she probably wouldn't be washing her hands tonight.