Chapter 63: Professor Quirrell's Advice

Feeling the solid sensation in his palm, Ino couldn't help but relax.

His eyes scanned the surroundings, and upon seeing the portraits hanging on the walls, he felt even more at ease.

"Good evening, Professor Quirrell."

He turned to look at the end of the corridor, where a figure wrapped in a turban stood illuminated by the flickering candlelight on the wall.

"Don't be nervous! As the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, it's quite normal for me to want to praise excellent and eager students. This is just a regular conversation."

It was hard to imagine that someone who usually stuttered while speaking could now communicate with such an elegant tone and clear articulation.

Professor Quirrell's tone was somewhat strange, as if he were explaining something to someone or clarifying his own harmlessness.

"Professor! While I would love to chat with you, the curfew is almost here, and I would prefer not to break school rules if possible."

Upon hearing the deliberately exaggerated tone, Ino confirmed that it was Voldemort himself this time, not Quirrell acting as a puppet.

Although he held the second die left by Professor Hans, without a major conflict of interest, he didn't want to get too entangled with Voldemort, or waste this precious die.

"Of course! Good students never break school rules, and they are always loved by their professors."

Possessing Quirrell, Voldemort spoke with a peculiar tone.

"Good students should study diligently and read more books. But remember, do not go to the restricted section, and especially do not dabble in Dark Arts. Though Dark Arts are powerful, they can erode the minds of those who are not strong-willed."

Perhaps sensing something, or genuinely considering the curfew time, Voldemort had Quirrell say this before turning and leaving.

Quirrell's figure gradually receded until it disappeared at the end of the corridor.

On the other hand, Ino did not lower his guard even after Quirrell left.

He knew that in the castle, the other party was unlikely to make a move, but when it came to his own safety, he didn't want to take any chances.

He kept the die tightly in his hand, not relaxing even when he entered the Slytherin common room.

It wasn't until he entered his dormitory and closed the door that he slowly released his grip.

"Phew... A dark wizard not studying Dark Arts, but instead learning psychology!"

Ino lay wearily on the bed, inwardly sighing.

It seemed that Tom's transformation into the formidable Voldemort wasn't solely due to his immense power.

Or rather, his great power was just the basic prerequisite.

Just like the seemingly simple conversation earlier, he was well aware that if it were another peer, they might have already been subtly influenced.

It wasn't some advanced magic—Voldemort probably wouldn't dare to act recklessly within the castle—so the conversation just now was merely psychological manipulation.

By starting with "Don't do something," people often focus on the latter part of the advice.

Just like God forbidding Adam from approaching the apple tree, or warning young wizards to stay away from the fourth-floor corridor.

And just now, Voldemort not only warned against Dark Arts but also mentioned strength and the lack of strong will.

It seemed like normal advice, like a professor advising a good student.

But with these three layers of suggestion, it would be easy for an ambitious and talented young wizard to stray down a dark path.

...

"Sigh! I can't wait for the summer holidays."

At this moment, Ino longed for the summer holidays, because it meant he wouldn't see the fully empowered Tom anymore.

From next year onward, perhaps only the paranoid Voldemort would remain.

This wasn't wishful thinking; today's encounter gave him some insights into Horcruxes, suggesting that their destruction did more than just reduce Voldemort's chances of revival.

By seeing a part, one can infer the whole. Given Voldemort's capabilities just now, it seemed unlikely he would later make those clumsy moves.

...

This evening's experience also made him nostalgic for those long journeys in the fantasy world that lasted more than six months.

What once seemed dull and tedious now appeared desirable, even making him eager to embark on long epic adventures.

After all, the growth of magical power is always linked to time.

It wouldn't take much—two or three times a year might bring him up to the standard of an adult wizard, sparing him from today's passivity.

Since arriving at Hogwarts, Ino felt a sense of helplessness for the first time.

Even Voldemort, in his possessed state, gave off an overwhelmingly formidable presence. It felt like facing a natural enemy, making one feel on edge just by being in their presence.

Because of this, he had only taken out the die, without drawing his wand.

After all, posturing without substance is merely laughable, serving no real purpose.

...

Meanwhile, in another part of the castle.

The Gryffindor common room was bustling with excitement, everyone celebrating today's hard-won victory.

As the hero of the day, Harry received unprecedented adoration.

This was different from before, where people admired him for his name—this time, Harry earned it through his own efforts, making him thoroughly enjoy the experience.

He reveled in the feeling of being surrounded and the thrill of fame.

However, amidst the laughter and joy of the Gryffindors, no one noticed that an elderly farmer was missing from a pastoral landscape painting hanging in the corner of the common room.

On the other hand, Hermione, sitting on the sofa at the periphery of the common room, did not join the celebration and instead appeared worried.

What she had witnessed at the Quidditch pitch confirmed for her that Snape was the culprit and the one scheming to steal the Philosopher's Stone.

Thinking of the Philosopher's Stone, Hermione couldn't help but think of Ino. Through a series of notes, she managed to get information about Nicolas Flamel from Madam Pince, leading her to deduce that the Philosopher's Stone was hidden in the castle's fourth floor.

"I need to tell Ino to stay away from Snape... I should have saved some money to buy an owl."

Hermione ruffled her messy bangs in frustration.

Thinking of owls, she recalled the note left in the library, wondering if it had been seen in time or if Madam Pince had thrown it away.

Worried about various things, she glanced at the lively scene in the common room.

Frustrated, Hermione stood up and headed to her dormitory without looking back.

...

It seemed that many at Hogwarts would find it hard to sleep tonight.

On the eighth floor of the castle, in the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore, dressed in lavender floral pajamas, sat in his chair, holding a walnut box, searching intently for something.

Meanwhile, various letters were scattered across the large desk.

After a long while.

He selected a lavender envelope with golden embossing.

Opening the envelope, he was greeted with beautiful, distinctive calligraphy.

Just by looking at the handwriting, it was clear how flamboyant the writer must be.

However, Dumbledore barely glanced at the ornate letter and instead turned to gaze at the Forbidden Forest under the night sky.

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