"Quirrell?"

Hearing this name, Hagrid, who had been squatting in front of the stove and turning the wood with a fire stick, frowned, and he glanced up at the copper kettle sitting on the stove, but found that the water had not yet boiled, and it seemed that it was impossible to escape from this topic by making tea.

Hagrid sighed. He really didn't want to gossip about his colleagues behind his back, but pretending to be confused was just as painful and difficult for him - especially in front of Harry.

"Okay...... What happened to Professor Quirrell? ”

"We're talking about why Neil keeps avoiding him." Ron replied with a grin.

Neil, who was wiping a broken unicorn horn, raised an exaggerated eyebrow. He had made his routine delivery this afternoon just in time for Hagrid to entertain guests—the only four people in all of Hogwarts who were willing to stay in his hut for a cup of tea were now here.

"I didn't hide from him, Mr. Weasley." Neil whispered. He spoke slowly, as if suggesting that the other person read along with him, "It's just that in my judgment, the professor may ...... Doesn't really need my services. ”

"Hey! I remember you said that a good businessman should meet the needs of every customer. ”

Far from embarrassing Neil, the sharp rebuke caused him to burst out laughing uncontrollably—rarely, not the pompous laugh of the god of the north wind on the opera stage, which seemed to reveal more truth.

"Ah, that's not bad, I said it on the train, right? I am flattered by the fact that you still remember that if I had a goblet in my hand now, I would have to raise a glass to greet you...... But for now, let's make do with this. ”

He did what he said, holding the half-truncated horn like a wine glass and dangling it in front of Ron's eyes.

"But I have to correct you for two things: first, the customer's needs also include 'I don't want to be pestered by a suspicious foreigner who is verbose, mother-in-law, oily, and a little violent'—wow, I found out that I had such a bastard, and second, I am still in the process of learning while running a business, and I am still far from being a real 'good businessman'!"

"Strong words!"

Hermione cursed quietly, but no longer hid her amused expression.

However, Ron doesn't seem to be fully convinced: "I think he'll love your weird amulets, and I haven't seen a second person stuff his hat with garlic every day to keep out vampires." ”

"That's because you haven't been to Romania." Neil replied categorically, in stark contrast to the decisiveness of his attitude, "That's the devil's cave of contemporary Europe." Vlad Tepes may be a legend, but Wallachia's great secrets are.

"Almost twenty years ago, the Americans took a large number of monster samples from there in the name of research, and kept them secretly in the Autonomous State of Puerto Rico. As a result, just last year, a guy who was not yet dead escaped from the lab, broke into a nearby farm in the dark, killed more than twenty cows, and sucked the blood to the ground, forcing the unfortunate people of the Office of Mysteries to concoct a creature called Chupacabra overnight to confuse the public...... Why do I know so clearly? Let's put it this way, Mr. Potter, it's one of my few personal hobbies. ”

The appearance of the vampire monster as a story element made Harry, Ron, and Hagrid, who was looking for a tea set in the cupboard, all a little excited, especially the latter, who had already begun to think about whether to feed it with the blood of a domestic animal or share a little blood of his own to show their closeness if they had a chance to catch one.

However, approaching danger just to satisfy curiosity was not in Hermione's character, and the land itself was more intriguing to her than the monsters that inhabited it: "Have you been to Romania? ”

"If you take a plane, yes. But if you're looking for local snacks or tourist attractions, I can't give you a more detailed answer than a tourist brochure – the only thing I know and it could never know is what it's like for an inspired passenger to fly right over a crack in the secret realm. ”

"Really? Let's talk about it. ”

"Imagine being a piece of toilet paper that has been flushed down the toilet...... Let me start by saying that in the head, Miss Granger, there is not a trace of artistic processing in this sentence. ”

“……”

Just then, the copper kettle with hot water finally rang, just in time to interrupt Neil's eerie tale of Romania, and Hagrid got up to pour tea for everyone—evidently relieved that there was an excuse to leave. If he remained in the conversation, the urge in his heart to raise a Chupacabra would sooner or later prevail over reason.

"Well, I don't know what you guys think badly of Professor Quirrell, but he wasn't what he is before......" He sighed regretfully, and placed a plate of his own baked rock skin cake in the middle of the table, as a snack for the day - Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had already learned his craft, didn't even dare to look at the thing, and Neil, noticing the reaction of the three of them, picked up a piece and squeezed it with two fingers, and then his expression quickly changed from natural to like King Oedipus who had discovered that the prophecy had come true.

Hagrid didn't notice that all four of them were tied down in front of their cooking skills, and his attention was all focused on the memories of the past, and his eyes were full of nostalgia: "He used to teach Muggle studies - Quirrell, and this year, Headmaster Dumbledore decided to give him the position of professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, but he felt that he needed to accumulate more practical experience, so he went to Albania during the summer vacation, and when he returned, he became the god's chatter he is now...... I think something in the dark forest scared the hell out of him, poor fellow. ”

Harry thought back to what Quirrell had seen in Defence Against the Dark Arts class, especially those eyes that were always filled with fear and flattery, and Hagrid was right, he must have been stuck with some kind of nightmare until now.

"Seriously, I really think this is the time for you to behave, Neil, isn't there anything that will make him regain his strength after taking it?"

Neil took a sip of Hagrid's football-sized teacup, looking a little embarrassed.

"It's not that simple, Mr. Potter. There's a fine line between emotions and thoughts, and you have to be very careful with them, and I don't want to be taken to Azkaban by the Ministry of Magic on charges of 'selling bottled Imperius curses' - I'm sure many of my friends at the Ministry of Magic are waiting for that day." ”

"Imperius? Azkaban? Unfamiliar terms popped up one after the other, much to Harry's confusion, but out of his knowledge of Neil, he decided to ask Ron or Hermione privately later, so as not to give Neil a chance to diverge the conversation. He was almost certain that the other party was hiding something in the reason for avoiding contact with Quirrell, and all he had to do now was to try to see if he could seduce the truth by side-tapping, "Don't do that, Neil, how about thinking of a way?" ”

"Quillinus."

"What?"

"His name is Quirrellus Quirrell." Neil repeated calmly, "Very rare name. Quelinus was the son of Mars, the god of war in Roman mythology, and a human priestess, the founder of the Roman monarchy, Romulus, the father of the nation - of course, the title is a complete fabrication, a very common petty means of divine power granted by kings. ”

The other four people in the hut looked at each other, and none of them could understand the connection between these words and the subject of discussion.

"It is said that he was swept up into the sky by a storm and never fell, and his admirers, believing it to be evidence of his Father's call, gave him the nickname 'Quillinus,' and worshipped him as one of the gods, second only to his father and grandfather—oh, I mean Mars and Jupiter."

He took another sip of tea, moving a little slower than the last.

But I think it's more likely that Romulus was assassinated by the Senate because he had annoyed him in a power struggle – just like his famous successor, Julius Caesar, Shakespeare devoted a lot of space to the story before the assassination, but the description of the assassination was so brief that the actors had to figure out what position to stab him to death. Here's a tidbit.

"Some people like Caesar, some people like Brutus, but I, honorable rank, I like Mark Anthony more. When I was in the sect, I also performed for my brothers and sisters the scene where he gave a seditious speech in front of Caesar's body, that is, the part where "Good citizens of Rome, please listen to me." As a result, the four elders mistakenly thought that they were inciting their disciples to mutiny, and they were severely beaten - seriously, this was the second unjust beating I had ever received. ”

Ron imagined that scene for a moment, and asked with a hard smile, "What was the first wrong?" ”

Neil replied without hesitation: "Once the three elders, that is, my master, were in the same building...... Well, he wandered around the infamous building for weeks, and was finally brought back to the mountain for interrogation by the four elders on charges of humiliation, only to be told everyone in the ancestral hall that I had introduced him to him—I was six years old at the time. ”

Harry and Ron burst into laughter at the same time, and even Hagrid shook his head in tears, only Hermione was angry, "What do you mean? Is that how they treat you? Believed such nonsense and then beat you up ?! ”

"Of course not, Miss Granger, no one believed his excuses. I was beaten because I couldn't get angry about it, so I stuffed a sock into Master's soup that night. ”

"Then what else do you have to be wronged!?"

"Because he insisted that I hid stinky socks in the food I gave to my master as an act of deceiving my master and destroying my ancestors, but the conscience of heaven and earth is above, and what I threw into it was obviously a clean sock." Neil replied calmly, "But I couldn't produce any physical evidence at the time, because it was already lying in his old man's stomach when it came to light, and I was beaten beyond the guilt—you see, Miss Granger, life doesn't always go your way, does it?" ”

……

……

That night, as Harry lay on the bed in his dorm room, listening to Ron's snoring and couldn't fall asleep for a long time, he suddenly noticed that all the key questions about Professor Quirrell had been fooled by Neil's nonsense.