"It's so expensive... Forget it, let me think of something else."

After sensing from the audience's sister that if she offered Arthur an ability, she would charge at least 500 million pounds, which is 100 million gold galleons, Arthur was discouraged and decisively rejected the deal.

The huge foreign debt, like a stick on the head, brought Arthur to his senses. Let him realize that this moment is not his desperate situation.

Although his wand was off, he still had a trump card that he didn't use.

"Arthur run! You're no match for him!"

Harry, whose limbs had been restrained by a rotten severed arm, looked up at Arthur's back and roared loudly.

Hermione and Draco had been subdued by the dark wizard named Quirrell, and he was now crushed to the ground by the rot.

Only Arthur could get out of here now and find Hagrid to save them.

Harry subconsciously thought that Arthur could not defeat this bad man, even if he had more spells than the first year wizard, but Arthur was a child after all, how could he defeat an adult wizard.

"Arthur..."

Of the three people present, Hermione had the same thoughts as Harry, watching the ugly dark wizard walk towards Arthur step by step, and she wanted to wake Arthur up so loudly that he should get out of here.

But Arthur's fearless appearance made Hermione angry and wanted to curse. At this time, they were still standing there pretending to be cold.

Draco looked at Arthur's calm appearance at this time, and yelled in his heart, "Quick! Kill him. You think you killed that Death Eater when you killed him in the Ministry of Magic!"

Draco was thrilled by Harry and Hermione's concern for Arthur, believing that Arthur would have a way to kill the carrion-looking dark wizard.

Under the blue starlight, Quirrell looked at Arthur, who was not afraid of him in the slightest, and sneered in his heart.

The culprit who had made him and his master embarrassed and inhuman, was about to die at his hands.

"Well, before you die, can you ask a question?"

Quirrell was already less than two meters away from Arthur, and Arthur smelled a foul smell of the sea from him, and he frowned and asked.

The strange thing that happened in the previous flying lesson, the evil curse on Neville and Draco, reminded Arthur if the mastermind behind it was also Voldemort's man.

"Are you stalling for time?"

Quirrell grinned, his face like the decay of a dead man a month after his death.

"Are you so unconfident? My wand is on the ground, and you won't be afraid of a powerless child." Arthur said excitedly.

"Humph!" Quirrell didn't refute, just snorted coldly and stood there staring at Arthur with fierce eyes.

"You're the only one who came here to steal the Philosopher's Stone? Didn't Voldemort give you a help?"

"You see, I'm going to be killed by you. I don't think it's too much to ask that."

Arthur pulled out his journal and spoke out the problem in his mind.

"Before you die, you shouldn't mind recording our conversation."

Quirrell was a little confused when he saw that Arthur had actually pulled out his journal at this time.

After a moment, Quirrell had already guessed what Arthur wanted to do, and he smiled contemptuously.

"Give it up, even if you write down my purpose, I will destroy it after killing you."

It's so naïve for this damn kid to want to leave a clue when he knows he can't run.

Quirrell sighed as he watched Arthur bow his head and write something with a serious face.

"You haven't answered my question yet..."

Arthur said calmly as he struggled to write.

"No, it's just me. Are you satisfied?"

"Really?"

"Really!"

"Oh..."

Listening to Arthur's idiotic questioning, Quirrell has

Impatient, he snorted, squirted a few maggots from his nostrils, and raised his wand towards Arthur.

He's running out of patience. Wanted to kill Arthur right away, and then use Harry and the others to find Dumbledore in exchange for the Philosopher's Stone.

As a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for many years, Quirrell knew that Dumbledore's heart was most about his students.

For the sake of the student's life, he will definitely take out the real Philosopher's Stone.

"Have you ever seen a meteorite rain worth 10 million gold galleons?"

Just as Quirrell's wand was already glowing green, Arthur looked up in pain and asked Quirrell.

"What?"

Quirrell subconsciously asked, but at this time, he suddenly sensed a great sense of crisis in his heart.

Secretly said that it was not good, and just as he was about to end the spell of the killing curse and was about to flee backwards, he saw that the position he was in suddenly brightened.

Stop! Stop! Stop!

More than twenty meteorites of various sizes burst through the sky and slashed beautiful flaming tails into Quirrell's body. His body seemed to have been shot by Gatling, and in an instant it was beaten into a puddle of foul-smelling flesh.

"I'm sorry, but yesterday in astronomy class, I happened to see a meteorite enter the atmosphere tonight."

Arthur closed the journal and walked over Quirrell's body to pick up his wand from the ground.

Just now, when he disliked the ability provided by the audience's sister was too expensive, he had a flash of inspiration, and thought that his writing ability, in addition to the free times once a day, can actually be used countless times, but different fees are charged according to the rationality of writing stories.

It may have been a long time since he had paid for his writing ability, and Arthur himself had forgotten about it. If it weren't for the fact that the ability that the audience's sister was going to provide this time was too expensive, he might not be able to recall it.

Ten million gold galleons summon a meteorite rain to kill Quirrell, which is much more cost-effective than 100 million gold galleons in exchange for an unknown ability.

With Quirrell's death, the rotten severed arms on the three Harry's bodies, as well as the severed arms that surrounded them, also lost their source of mana due to the loss of the caster, and fell from their bodies, turning into dust and dissipating into the air at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"The fire is raging!"

Arthur wiped the dirt off his wand in pain, then swung a ball of fire at Quirrell's corpse.

In an instant, the flames shone brightly, illuminating the faces of everyone present. They looked at the sudden reversal, their faces were shocked, and they couldn't calm down for a long time.

"He's dead?"

Hermione was the first to react and hurriedly asked.

"Hmm..."

"Arthur, you killed him, didn't you?"

Draco got up and walked over to Arthur, glancing at the filth in the flames with a look of disgust, and asked Arthur excitedly.

"How could it be me? You're thinking too much."

Arthur shook his head and denied. He didn't understand why he could think of himself when he saw the meteorite rain landing.

"No! It has to be you! Only you can make miracles happen. You must have predicted a meteor shower coming here, that's why you stalled for the time to let this damn guy stand here..."

Draco was so excited that he gestured his arms and said what he had in mind.

"It's really troublesome, it looks like it needs to be stopped..."