Sneaky Quirrell

The dim light earlier had obscured their view, preventing them from noticing the inscription on the mirror.

"What the heart desires is revealed?" Hermione understood immediately.

She also realized that the mirror's reflection was only visible to the person standing in front of it. She turned the question back to Luke, her eyes narrowing as she inquired, "What did you see in there?"

Luke hesitated for a moment, then replied, touching his nose, "I saw my family."

As an orphan, it was entirely reasonable for him to wish to see his family in the mirror.

Family...

"I saw... a lot of beautiful flowers," Hermione responded, using the same tactic of dishonesty.

She was certain that Luke hadn't seen his family, as he had a tendency to be honest and straightforward.

"Really," Luke acknowledged, recognizing that Hermione had also told a white lie.

Yet, neither of them chose to expose the other's deception.

They checked the time, and it was already close to one o'clock in the morning. Hermione stifled a yawn, her eyes watery from fatigue. She had only managed a few hours of sleep in the library, and her limits were beginning to show.

"Let's head back," Luke suggested, stretching as he prepared to escort Hermione to the Gryffindor common room on the eighth floor.

It wasn't safe for her to go alone; she might encounter Filch or other potential dangers along the way.

Hermione accepted the offer without hesitation. This was her first nighttime adventure, and she felt safer with Luke's company.

As they walked along the third-floor corridor, Luke suddenly halted and gently stopped Hermione, who was walking ahead.

"What's wrong?" Hermione inquired, her voice hushed. In the quiet of the night, being unexpectedly stopped could startle anyone.

The moonlight, pale and soft, filtered through a stained glass window, casting intricate patterns on the marble floor.

Luke's once light blue eyes had turned red, and he half-squinted, fixating on the figure further down the corridor.

"Professor Quirrell?" Hermione observed the cloaked and turban-wearing figure. "Why is Professor Quirrell out at this hour?"

Professor Quirrell was the instructor for the second-year Dark Arts Defense class, a course not typically attended by first-year students. However, with such few professors at the school, many students recognized the faculty members, including Hermione.

Quirrell had a reputation as one of the more peculiar professors, known for his constant stammering and overall nervous demeanor. He seemed to be afraid of everything around him and was often rumored to mutter to himself, as if he had a touch of schizophrenia. Additionally, he had an unpleasant odor of garlic that clung to him.

Rumors circulated that Professor Quirrell had once been a very different person—intelligent, studious, and quite talkative—until he returned from a mysterious trip abroad and became the apprehensive individual he was now.

"It's the restricted section that Professor Dumbledore mentioned..." Hermione whispered. "He must be hiding some secret."

Luke and Hermione shared a concerned look, their brows furrowed in worry.

"What should we do now?" Luke asked quietly.

Hermione pondered their options. "We should keep a safe distance and observe. If he's up to something suspicious, we need to report it to a professor."

With that decision made, they watched Quirrell from a distance, their curiosity tinged with apprehension.

By the way, he also wanted to meet his senior, Tom, but it was obvious that the time was not right. He might as well wait for the arrival of a notebook Horcrux.

For now, let's send Hermione back first.

Soon, Quirrell abruptly opened the closed door, took a step inside, then suddenly rushed out in a panic and slammed the door shut, panting.

"What's behind that door?" Hermione opened her eyes wide and looked at Quirrell, who had just dashed out, and asked Luke, who was beside her.

In the eyes of these young wizards, every professor was formidable, especially Quirrell, who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts. Such a position wasn't handed out lightly.

But the Quirrell in front of them exhibited sheer terror on his face. It was difficult to fathom what could be hiding behind that door to frighten a professor to this extent.

"How should I know?" Luke responded, exasperated. He wondered if they believed he possessed knowledge about everything.

If he remembered correctly, there should be a three-headed dog guarding something. The Momotaro rice ball he had prepared earlier was meant to deal with it, but Dumbledore had thwarted his plan.

"Quick, Professor Quirrell is here!" Luke motioned with his eyes and pulled Hermione behind a partially closed door.

They observed Professor Quirrell tottering over, still muttering incantations under his breath, while his body occasionally trembled. Due to the distance and the low volume of his speech, they couldn't make out any words.

After Quirrell vanished on the fourth floor, the two ventured out. It seemed that Senior Tom had taken action. With this thought, Luke glanced at Hermione by his side.

"Go back to sleep quickly."

After reaching the eighth floor, the two of them stood before the entrance to Gryffindor's common room. The Fat Lady, yawning, emerged from her portrait.

"Two young wizards wandering the castle at night, and one is a little Slytherin snake. What an unusual pair."

The Fat Lady remarked, but neither of them reacted, leaving her feeling rather bored.

She spoke nonchalantly, "Alright, Miss Hermione, you may say the password."

With the password spoken, Hermione turned and nodded to Luke.

"See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Luke replied. He then turned and entered the Slytherin common room.

Evidently, Hermione had few friends in Gryffindor.

On his way back, Luke couldn't help but mull over the situation.

In theory, Hermione's roommates from the same dormitory should have been worried about her disappearance and either informed Professor McGonagall or set out to find her.

However, this wasn't the case.

Hermione must have been acutely aware of her situation and chose to spend the night out with Luke. She wouldn't have stuck around this long if she were worried about burdening him.

Back in their dormitory, it was already 3:30 in the morning. Fortunately, Sunday lay ahead, promising a chance to catch up on sleep.

In the silent bedroom, the sound of breathing filled the air as they drifted off to sleep one by one.

.....

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