"Not everyone can heed my teachings."
"Only matchmakers like Olivia are lucky enough to get me to offer some advice. I wouldn't bother with anyone else."
Hermione, upon hearing this, hooked her index finger and thumb together, warning, "What nonsense are you talking about!"
She glanced sideways at Olivia, who was still teaching spells behind her, and saw that they were teaching seriously but didn't react much.
Then she poked Draco's cheek and exposed him:
"You're just being glib. You're clearly too lazy to repeat yourself, but you make it sound so Diadem."
"Who said that? Before, when Miss Granger was full of prejudice against me because she listened to someone's slander, didn't I still patiently win her over little by little?"
Draco looked at her with amusement.
"No, that's not true at all!" Hermione blushed.
"Back then, it was clearly you... you were the one who kept causing me trouble. It was just a misunderstanding that was cleared up later."
As she spoke, her confidence waned, and her voice gradually lowered; even she herself felt that her explanation was weak and unconvincing.
Just as Draco and Hermione were still being affectionate, the noise behind them gradually subsided.
To escape the suffocating smell of garlic, the young wizards put in a tremendous effort to study spells.
The Odour-Blocking Charm, which wasn't particularly complex to begin with, was quickly mastered by many driven by their survival instincts.
After someone successfully cast the spell, they immediately extended the barrier to their deskmate.
A pale light spread across the seats, and the intermittent wails quickly subsided.
Everyone returned to their seats, their faces showing a sense of relief.
But this relief didn't last long, as the students soon found themselves in another kind of torment: Professor Quirrell's lecture pace.
Looking at Professor Quirrell, who was still stammering and rambling on the podium, and recalling the embarrassing situation they had just been tormented by the smell of garlic, the students' eyes gradually ignited with a flame of retaliation.
Someone raised their hand first, and then, in the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff seating areas, arms shot up in unison.
"Professor! I have a question!"
The silence in the classroom was broken by a chorus of questions.
Professor Luo, however, seemed oblivious to the raised arms, averting his gaze and continuing to read from his textbook.
But his stuttering worsened, and even the hand holding the textbook trembled slightly.
But the students clearly had no intention of letting him off the hook.
More and more people raised their hands, and the questions became louder and louder. Some even deliberately raised their voices, causing the whole class to burst into laughter.
Professor Quirrell, left with no other option, scanned the classroom with a pale face.
Finally, in a panic, she pointed to a Hufflepuff girl in the back row. "Um, you... whatever your questions are, ask quickly."
The Hufflepuff girl whose name was called stood up steadily and asked, "Professor, why do you smell so strongly of garlic?"
"This... this is to drive away... vampires... When I was researching Magical Creatures in Romania, I encountered a persistent vampire. It kept following me, and I couldn't shake it off..."
The girl, however, had no intention of stopping there, and tilted her head slightly to continue asking:
"Did you successfully get rid of it? If you did, why does it still smell so strongly of garlic? If you didn't, is it still following you? Could it... be in our classroom?"
The last sentence was spoken casually, yet it instantly silenced the classroom.
A few timid students in the front row glanced behind them instinctively, while the Gryffindor lion cubs in the back row suppressed their laughter, their eyes filled with the excitement of watching the spectacle.
Professor Quirrell's face turned deathly pale, his lips trembled, and he couldn't utter a single word for a long time, his hands gripping the edge of the podium tightly.
His body, which was already trembling violently, shook even more violently, like a leaf.
"I... I..." He opened his mouth, his voice trembling with tears, his gaze sweeping unfocused across the students in the classroom before finally settling on the girl. "They... they should have been driven away..."
"Should?" the girl pressed on relentlessly.
"Professor, how can something as important as driving away vampires be considered 'should'? Have you even checked? What if it's still following you? Won't we be in danger while we're having class?"
A barrage of questions rained down on him, and Professor Quirrell's expression grew increasingly grim.
Suddenly, someone stood up, waved to the girl, and said softly, "Don't make things difficult for Professor Quirrell. Everyone, please focus on the lesson."
The girl glanced at the man, shrugged, and sat back down. "Fine, I can't smell anything now anyway, I won't ask."
Professor Quirrell, as if grasping at a lifeline, hurriedly nodded to the person who had saved him, his voice trembling, "Th-thank you, classmate..."
To everyone's surprise, the man then said, "Don't mention it, Professor. I just wanted to ask you another question!"
The classroom fell silent for half a second after those words were spoken.
This was followed by an even louder burst of laughter.
Professor Quirrell was completely dumbfounded.
Feelings aren't about finding a way out, they're about asking yourself questions...
That feigned attempt to defuse the situation turned out to be another, more precise question, and this contrast directly tickled everyone's funny bone.
Len Draco covered his face, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
Before the laughter in the classroom had subsided, the boy took another step forward, his gaze landing on Professor Quirrell's tightly wrapped scarf:
"Professor, I have another question—the weather isn't cold now, so why are you wearing such a thick scarf around your head?"
As soon as these words were spoken, everyone's eyes turned to Professor Quirrell's head.
Even the students who had been secretly laughing couldn't help but become curious.
The scarf was indeed wrapped unusually, with multiple layers wrapped around it several times, which didn't seem to be simply for warmth.
Upon hearing this question, Professor Quirrell stiffened again, his eyes flickering nervously. He explained:
"This... this is a gift from an Africa prince..."
"I... I traveled to Africa before and helped... helped that prince get rid of the Inferi. To thank me, he... gave me this scarf with magical powers..."
"Magical power?" the boy pressed, "What kind of magical power?"
Draco thought to himself: These little wizards are really audacious.
If they knew that what was hidden under that scarf wasn't some magical gift, but rather Voldemort's hideous face attached to the back of Quirrell's head...
I wonder if they'll dare to keep digging so deep.
Professor Quirrell's lips trembled as he was questioned, his eyes darting away, avoiding the students' gaze.
"It's... it's a power that can ward off evil spirits... you... don't overthink it..."
"Okay then." The boy let the question drop, then asked again.
"Professor, how do you deal with Inferi? If you could tell us, we'd have a strategy to use if we encounter one in the future, wouldn't we?"
Professor Quirrell was stumped again; he had no idea how to deal with Jiangshi...