Defense Against the Dark Arts' office is not far from the classroom. Gawain and Professor Quirrell didn't take a few more steps before arriving at his office.

Pushing open the heavy black leather trimmed wooden door, Professor Quirrell was the first to enter, turning to wait for Gawain.

"This is my office, please be seated.

Tea, or some coffee?"

Professor Quirrell stammered, stepping back to the table.

"Tea bar, Professor, thank you. ”

Gawain sat down in the chair across from him.

He had expected Professor Quirrell's office to be dark-colored, with eerie circle drawings plastered on the walls, or figures struggling with dark magic, and even all sorts of jars and jars filled with colorful organs.

But here it actually looks...

It's very... Warm?

This office is typical of the old country style, with rounded corners of the wooden coffee table, khaki carpet, and coffee-colored rattan chairs dotted among them, which looks stylish and sophisticated.

Even during the day.

The fireplace is also burning.

On a shelf in the corner, hang several delicate hand-woven scarves. Some very fine specimens of wildflowers are hung on the walls.

"You, you seem to have, a little surprised? Gao Gaowen, can I call you that?

Professor Quirrell removed the teapot from the fire, divided it into small cups, and picked up the teaspoon from the milk jug.

"Of course. A spoonful of sugar, two spoonfuls... Well. It's better not to have milk, thank you, Professor. ”

Gawain took the teacup, held it in his hand, and took a shallow sip. The tea leaves are fragrant and have an almond flavor, but they are also bitter.

Not to his taste.

"No, you're welcome, more than ten years ago, I was a student at Hogwarts, just like you. Ravenclaw, Ha. See how quickly time flies. ”

Professor Quirrell poured himself a cup of tea, and instead of adding sugar or milk, he poured a little brown clear liquid into a small jar.

He drank it all and stretched his face comfortably.

But he was right, and Gawain stole into the picture frame on the table. - It was the young Professor Quirrell who was smiling brightly as he held his wand.

At that time, he had a hairline.

"When I first entered Hogwarts, I was curious about everything and wanted to try everything. Of course, I'm not like you, I'm not as brave as you, and I don't have any talent to boast about. ”

After drinking the tea, Professor Quirrell seemed to be in much better shape, and even his stuttering had improved significantly.

"After graduating, I mean Dumbledore invited me back to Hogwarts, I went on a trip and discovered many secrets.

I can see in your eyes that you are like me, you want to have power, you want to forge prestige, you want to control your own destiny, right?"

Professor Quirrell flicked his wand on the table, and a lot of parchment flew out of his drawer.

They are stacked on top of each other on the table.

"Mostly shabby, as if soaked in some liquid, related to dark arts?"

Gawain secretly guessed, but did not stretch out his hand.

He didn't know where this conversation would lead.

But he knew it had gone off.

"Why don't you take a look at them?

That's the real power.

Enough to put you on top of everyone.

A truly powerful force. ”

Professor Quirrell used his wand to arc through the air, forming gray-black symbols one after another, twisting and twisting monstrously.

"Spells, rituals, shapeshifts, curses, alchemy. Think about it, how great you will become?!

It's only a small price to pay, and you don't even have to pay for it!"

Professor Quirrell didn't stutter at all, his fingers pressed against his cheek.

The voice is very high-pitched.

But it's magical, it's intoxicating.

Like the serpent in the Garden of Eden.

"But Professor, why don't you teach them in class?" asked Gawain, feigning curiosity, his right hand quietly reaching to his waist.

This is no ordinary tea party.

Definitely not.

"You know, this content isn't for everyone, only brave people like you can try it. They, like me, are too mediocre to look up to the light of the strong.

You look here, no one will know. ”

Professor Quirrell lowered his head and pushed the stack of parchment towards Gawain with both hands.

"Yes, how can ordinary people like them understand how much pressure you are under?"

"It's just a small price, you've got too much on your shoulders, it's time for someone else to help. ”

"Just look at it, and it doesn't mean you're going to use it, does it? ”

Gawain's own voice rang out in his head.

But he was resisting with all his might.

He does want strength, he will practice, he will fight for it, but he will never do it in such a way.

From the top piece of parchment alone, he saw a man with a miserable face lying on a black circle, his heart gouged out with a short knife by a robed wizard.

When a man dares to do evil to satisfy his humble desires, he has lost his true nature and is no longer himself.

But Gawain soon found that even his full resistance seemed to be of no avail.

The voices grew louder and louder, like sledgehammers striking directly into the heart. Even if he was trying to stay awake, only Gawain knew it.

His left hand was trembling!

"There's something in the tea!"

Gawain suddenly thought of the extremely bitter tea.

Something was definitely wrong with Professor Quirrell.

Thankfully, he had thought of touching his wand before.

“Reparo！”

Gawain squirmed his lips with difficulty, shouted a spell, and a misty aura pinned to his leg.

The pain cleared his mind.

The jade on his chest and the wand also conveyed warm currents in time, allowing Gawain to gradually fight against the strange feeling.

Taking this opportunity, Gao Wen leaned back violently and sat on the ground with a "bang".

"Sorry, Professor, for the interruption.

It occurred to me that ...

My cat hasn't been fed yet, so I'll say goodbye!"

Gawain clenched his wand in his right hand and slowly retreated, time sped up to 1.3 times.

He didn't know how Quirrell would react when he was thwarted.

Is it annoyed and angry?

Or will he stop him and finish the unfinished?

All he knew was that Quirrell's already pale face had turned even paler, and his right hand was clutching his wand desperately, and his joints protruded.

Little by little, time passed.

Quirrell closed his eyes suddenly.

When he opened it again, the whole person suddenly collapsed as if he was deflated.

"Of course, please feel free, Mr. White. We're just drinking tea, aren't we? There's nothing to tell anyone. I'm sure you're a smart kid and you'll know that?"

Professor Quirrell waved his wand, and the old parchment on the table suddenly burned out of thin air, turning into a layer of black ash, and swept into the fireplace behind him.

His wand was short, 8,9 inches.

Very tough.

"Goodbye, Professor. ”

Gawain pushed the letter back a little bit, until he touched the door, and then he jumped out of Quirrell's field of vision.

PS: The length of a wand is often determined by how a person thinks of themselves in his heart, confident people tend to have longer wands, and cowardly, inferior wands are usually shorter. The degree of tenacity represents a person's will, the more tenacious it is, the less elastic it is, and the more difficult it is to change the decisions he makes.