Good night

Tewell watched helplessly as his chess game gradually led to a dead end. Unexpectedly, those who listened to the lecture didn't get distracted, but the one lecturing did.

"Of course, it's still quite challenging for you at the moment, so you can choose to focus on the essential spells and supplement with some practical combat," he advised.

"There's still a year left, which should be enough time for you to prepare."

He consoled Percy, whose frown deepened, and they prepared to start the next game.

However, at that moment, Tewell had a sudden thought.

The sensory magic he had set up in the fourth-floor corridor had been triggered.

It was the first time since he had set it up that he felt the feedback from the sensory magic.

It couldn't be a nocturnal young wizard again, could it?

But he didn't show it and continued playing chess with Percy.

Only Cedric and the others really felt the difference between people.

With Percy around, the professor was dismissive of their queries, giving obvious evasive answers like "The answer is in the textbook, make sure to read it," or "We covered similar content in a previous private lesson, just use a bit of brainpower to figure it out."

But when it came to Percy, the professor was all "If you're interested, I'll give you the training dummy in a little over a week, they can only use it for a month anyway."

How utilitarian of you!

Exchanging glances, they unanimously decided—they must improve their wizard chess skills to become the professor's favorite tools!

At 9:55 PM, Tewell ended his work on time and waited for Percy and the others to leave the classroom before he quietly headed to the fourth floor.

As curfew approached, little wizards hurried past now and then.

At the staircase on the third floor, Filch also stood holding a lantern, with a cat at his feet, alternately glaring at young wizards and then glancing at an old pocket watch, eagerly awaiting the start of curfew.

However, the fourth floor remained off-limits, and any young wizard lingering there would be reminded and pulled away by their peers.

Tewell glanced at the door.

Someone else had also applied sensory magic to this door, but it was clumsily done, as if hastily arranged.

He disabled it with a flick of his hand and sensed the inside.

There was music, but no significant magical fluctuations.

Unless the incoming wizard was just admiring the sleeping posture of the three-headed dog without moving, they wouldn't escape his notice.

So, he confidently pushed open the door.

Indeed, the wizard was just standing there, admiring the three-headed dog's sleep.

"You finally came, Tewell."

Quirrell, who had been facing away from him, turned around, looking smug.

Seeing his illusion charm uncovered, Tewell appeared, eying Quirrell with puzzlement as if he no longer recognized him.

"How did you know it was me?"

"Isn't it easy to guess? New professor, powerful," Quirrell's expression suddenly turned fierce, "and you set your students on me! Who else could it be?"

Tewell's eyes filled with speechlessness; he hadn't expected Quirrell to be so petty.

"What if I said it was truly an accident, would you believe me?"

"I...!" Quirrell clenched his teeth in anger, but a second later, he pulled a grim smile, "Never mind, your identity is already exposed, and we are on the same starting line now."

This indeed surprised Tewell,

Hiding it longer was to his advantage, but unexpectedly, Quirrell had suddenly become clever, luring him here.

Of course, he'd rather believe it was Voldemort's tactic.

But fortunately, for now, his and Voldemort's goals were aligned.

"Don't be so hostile, we have the same objective, why can't we be a bit friendlier?"

Quirrell scoffed, but he didn't continue to mock Tewell, knowing that they needed to work together to deceive Dumbledore and obtain the Sorcerer's Stone.

"Since that's the case, my good friend, would you be willing to take me down there to have a look?"

"Absolutely delighted."

After a bit of posturing between them, Tewell expertly led him through the underground, arriving in front of the chessboard for the third time.

"Why aren't you moving forward?!" Quirrell asked urgently.

Tewell shrugged, "To open the door ahead, you must win this chess game, and this board is no simple task—I haven't been able to get past it myself yet."

Even if he could get past, Tewell wouldn't do it.

He still needed Quirrell to distract Dumbledore and get the Sorcerer's Stone!

Watching Quirrell pacing back and forth in anger, he tempted, "Why don't you try this chessboard to see if I'm lying?"

Quirrell was about to retort, but suddenly a voice echoed in his mind.

"Go ahead and try."

"But Lord Voldemort, I don't know how to play wizard chess," Quirrell's eyes lit up suddenly, "Can you play? Maybe you should play this game?"

"…I can't either!"

Voldemort roared and then fell silent.

Quirrell shrank back a bit, mumbling quietly, "You don't know how and still you send me?"

Tewell thought Quirrell was scheming something, worried he would brute-force his way through, possibly drawing Dumbledore and other professors here.

"Forget it, unless you can get the chess moves prepared by Professor McGonagall, you'll just have to figure out how to win this game."

Quirrell hesitated on the spot, and eventually decided to give it a try.

He was learning the rules on the spot, and ended up losing even quicker than Tewell did initially.

"The next challenges are crafted by Professors Sprout and Fawley, and the ones after that by Snape and you, of course, and Dumbledore."

Quirrell nodded in agreement.

When Dumbledore had called him to set up the challenges, he had learned about these.

"Don't worry, my setup is very simple. The key is Dumbledore's magic, have you got any idea?"

"No!"

Quirrell crisply refused, and Tewell left him there to figure it out on his own.

Back in his office, the ring in his pocket couldn't wait to speak.

"Is this really my essence? Quite disappointing," Voldemort said disdainfully.

Tewell took out the ring, playing with it in his hand.

"Speaking of which, can you sense each other?"

"Why don't you just remove the shielding spell on the ring and find out?" Voldemort tempted.

"So you mean there is a connection?" Tewell chuckled.

"…I should have known better than to split my soul and make Horcruxes, feels like my IQ has dropped."

Resigned, Voldemort continued, "We're more like dismembered limbs, unless close enough or one of us is destroyed, only the main body can initiate communication with a Horcrux."

"Do you sense any part of a soul in a child?"

"What? A child?" Voldemort suddenly became anxious, "My soul is in a child? That means I could be resurrected?!"

It seems that the soul fragment in Harry was well concealed, perhaps due to his mother's protective magic.

But that really was a remarkable spell.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't just go silent, Tewell! Hurry up and tell me!"

Tewell pocketed the ring, and the nagging voice immediately ceased.

"Good night."