"Professor Quirrell doesn't look like he's in any good spirits."

After a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, Professor Quirrell quickly disappeared from everyone's sight. Harry said to Ron as he cleaned up the books on the table.

And there were no books on Ron's desk at all, so he just watched Harry clean up.

"Hasn't he always been like this? I've heard that it was pretty good when I was teaching Slytherin. Could he be the Head of Slytherin? ”

Ron spit mercilessly, then glanced at Harry and said, "I said, why did you put the book out there?" We don't need it in class anyway. ”

"And, Harry, what do you remember the notes? Professor Quirrell's adventures? ”

Seamus sat on the stool, turned around, and said with a teasing face, "I looked, we were together, only you and Hermione were taking notes." ”

Harry could hear the disrespect they had for Professor Quirrell.

But he also had nothing to refute. After all, Professor Quirrell wasn't a likable professor.

If nothing else, his prejudice against his students can be seen from the fact that he was obviously wrong in Slytherin class.

Then don't expect the students to respect him equally.

But if Harry remembers correctly, Professor Quirrell must have graduated from Ravenclaw. Why is there a bias towards Slytherin now?

"I just think this class is important. Maybe the professor is talking about some knowledge that can be used. ”

Harry explained it to everyone. If you feel different from your friends, you will inevitably feel a little uneasy. So he could only quickly explain.

"This class is really important." Ron nodded seriously, "But there's a class that's more important!" ”

Harry, who had finally finished cleaning up, asked suspiciously, "What class?" ”

He thought back to Ron's usual performance: "Is it a transfiguration class?" ”

He had the impression that Ron was already more serious when he took the Transfiguration class. Of course, the most serious thing to take was Potions class, but it was probably not because Ron thought it was important.

"Nope! Flying lessons, of course! ”

Ron said with some excitement, "We're about to have our first flying lesson!" ”

Harry shook his head helplessly. It wasn't the first time he'd heard about flying lessons today. It seems that many friends around me are looking forward to this course.

They even brag non-stop, including but not limited to flying in Muggle helicopter races, and flying to London on their family's broomstick at the age of four.

Kid, that's understandable. He remembered that Luke listened to it with relish, and even took out a strange crystal ball, as if he was recording.

However, when everyone asked Luke about his flying skills, Luke only said that he had never been exposed to flying, so it was best to wait until he had finished his flying lessons.

That's when Malfoy pops up and tells Luke not to worry, he can teach Luke, and he promises to be a good Quidditch player.

Speaking of which, he seems to be looking forward to playing Quidditch with Luke.

Although Luke doesn't seem keen on it.

As they walked out of the classroom and were in the hallway, Ron suddenly noticed Neville, who looked pretty good.

"I'm in a good mood! Neville! ”

"Of course! I haven't been tricked by Peeves in a few days. Sure enough, life is good without Peeves. It would be better if there was no Snape! ”

Neville said in a brisk tone.

Harry looked at Neville, who was happier and more confident than he had seen for the first time, and clearly felt the power of companionship.

"Speaking of which, I heard Lee Jordan," said Seamus, as if suddenly remembering something, "Peeves seemed to have been furious the other day, and made a lot of noise in the dungeon. And shouting that he would make the man who sneaked up on him pay!"

"Someone sneaking up on Peeves? Is Peeves hurt? ”

Luke frowned slightly as he listened to Barrow the Bloody, though he was confident in Peeves' simplicity. But the other party is also Voldemort after all. But between the two, it is not clear who is the camel who suffers.

"Peeves suffered a small loss, but he said that the other party was definitely not comfortable."

Barrow the Bloody Man spoke, "He's gone after he's been wounded, so let me tell you just one thing." I think he's probably recovering from his injury right now and trying to figure out some way to toss that opponent. ”

"Can you find him anywhere?"

Luke asked.

Barrow shook his head silently, and then said, "Impossible, my lord, if Peeves doesn't want to be found, then no one can find him." ”

Luke listened, then glanced at the kitten lying at his feet.

Booker gave him a roll of the eye and then covered his face with his tail.

Luke felt his blood pressure go up. However, he took a deep breath and calmed down.

"Okay, please help me keep an eye on Peeves, and if he shows up, let me know as soon as he appears."

After hearing this, the bloody man Barrow put one hand on his chest and said seriously, "Obey, my lord." ”

Luke nodded and gently kicked Booker: "Let's go, go back to sleep." ”

Booker slowly got up, stretched, and followed in Luke's footsteps.

In the office, Quirrell was staring at himself on his couch, feeling like he was wailing in pain. But not a single sound came out.

The sofa was torn and deformed, and the withered fist smashed against the sofa with a heavy muffled sound. The clothes that had been fitting became loose at a speed that was visible to the naked eye.

The face, which was originally quite full, shrank suddenly, and then rose sharply. Only the back of the head still hasn't changed at all.

Quirrell's pain came to an end ten minutes later.

He fell to the ground, then struggled to crawl to the desk not far ahead.

After about half a minute, he finally walked the distance that was supposed to be only a few steps.

He pulled the drawer open with all his might, and when he reached the point, his hand slipped off the grip once, then he grabbed the grip again, and finally pulled the drawer out.

Reaching in and fumbling around, he pulled out a bottle of potion.

Quirrell put the potion vial to his lips and swallowed greedily.

The brown potion quickly disappears. Quirrell's form quickly changed back to its original form.

The empty flask slammed against the carpet with a non-crisp sound.

Quirrell gasped and sweated profusely to his feet.

He staggered back to his seat on the couch, gasping for air, his eyes full of horror and fear, and he looked like he was on the verge of death.

And in his mind, Voldemort was roaring at this time.

"More energy! Quirrell! More energy! ”

"I want further recovery!"

"I want it! Kill! That damn it! Phantom! ”

Quirrell, on the other hand, could only remain motionless like a dying man.