bookbashuk Chapter 60 And so, Quirrell's life was completely ruined.
Chapter 60 And so, Quirrell's life was completely ruined.
Quirrell stared blankly at Ethan's outstretched hand, unable to recover for a long time.
You... you agreed to that?
So easily?
Why? In Ethan's eyes, shouldn't he just be an incompetent, mediocre professor?
Could it be that Ethan has discovered his true identity?
For a split second, Quirrell's heart skipped a beat.
A flicker of panic and malice flashed in his eyes, and his hand instinctively gripped the wand.
Immediately, he was pinned down by a sharp gaze from top to bottom.
"..."
Quirrell's body began to tremble slightly.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dumbledore looking down at him.
...Calm down, calm down.
Do not expose yourself.
Quirrell took a slow breath, looked up, and met Ethan's pure and innocent smile.
She stretched out a small, calloused, fair hand to him.
Bathed in the light of the chandelier above the auditorium, he seemed to radiate a holy light, like a compassionate savior who wanted to guide evildoers onto the right path.
...Hmm, this kid probably wouldn't lie.
He probably doesn't know his true identity; he's probably just curious and wants to see what I'll teach him.
Thinking this way, Quirrell's panic gradually subsided.
He grinned with a look of surprise, grabbed Ethan's outstretched hand, and stammered:
"Thank you so much! I... I will definitely prove myself. You... you made the right choice, Mr. Vincent!"
Ethan smiled slightly: "You're welcome, Professor Quirrell. I happen to have some research on painting and would like to ask for your help."
Upon hearing this, Quirrell's eyes lit up.
What a coincidence!
His master had just ordered him to uncover the secrets of Ethan's enchanted paintings!
"Don't worry! I will do everything I can to help you!"
Ethan's smile widened.
I've been waiting for you to say that.
"Don't worry, Professor Quirrell, I won't hold back."
Quirrell: "..."
That sounds a bit strange.
For some reason, Quirrell felt a chill run down his spine as he looked at Ethan's friendly smile.
He chuckled dryly, saying "Of course, of course" as he tried to pull his hand away.
But at this moment...
The five fingers holding Quirrell's hand suddenly tightened, gripping his hand tightly.
?
Quirrell looked up in confusion and met Ethan's crescent-shaped cobalt blue eyes.
—When viewed from a distance.
These eyes are as calm and gentle as a lake, just like the personality of their owner—steady and rarely turbulent.
However, upon closer inspection...
But Quirrell saw a flickering flame deep within those eyes.
Tiny, yet containing an incredibly vibrant life force!
It seems that just a drop of oil could cause the flames to explode and burn everything in their path with overwhelming force!
"Professor Quirrell."
The boy's clear voice brought Quirrell back to his senses.
Quirrell shuddered.
The primal fear of facing a terrifying predator vanished in an instant.
Quirrell refocused his attention on Ethan's words.
Ethan: "I have broom rash on my hands."
He licked his lips.
Ethan's smile at this moment looked extremely perverted.
Quirrell: "Huh?"
Quirrell: "Huh?!?!"
What kind of rash?!
Quirrell was terrified, as if he had been headbutted by a strong man, as memories of Halloween from the past flooded his mind.
He jerked his hand back and stared in horror at his palm.
—It was spotless there, without a single red rash.
Ethan: "Haha, of course I'm just kidding, Professor Quirrell."
Ethan tilted his head, blinked his big eyes, and asked innocently:
"Won't Professor Quirrell be angry?"
Quirrell: "..."
It's hardened; its fists have hardened.
Quirrell trembled all over—from anger.
Veins bulged on his forehead, and his eyes were bloodshot; he looked as if he were about to grind his teeth to dust.
How dare you mock him like this! I am the Dark Lord's most valued servant!
Ribbit! I'll tear you to pieces!
Quirrell was so angry he was out of his mind; the word "Avada Kedavra" was stuck in his throat, ready to be unleashed.
And then the next second.
Quirrell felt the heavy, mountain-like gaze emanating from Headmaster Dumbledore.
"...Of course I'm not angry~"
Quirrell forced a smile, forgetting his stuttering persona:
"You're quite 'lively,' Vincent, haha."
The word "lively" was squeezed out of Keelow's mouth.
Being subordinate to others means having to bow your head... *sob*
Quirrell felt a lump in his throat.
...That's so damn unfair.
This is absolutely outrageous!
But in any case, he had fulfilled his master's orders.
She successfully became Ethan's mentor, giving her a legitimate reason to access his magical painting techniques.
As for helping Ethan with his research?
Please, how much money can a student spend?
At that time, Quirrell had no idea that he had already stepped into hell.
......
Kiro's special instruction was scheduled for after dinner every day.
Only then did Ethan finally sit down and enjoy his belated breakfast.
A refreshing bacon, cucumber, and egg sandwich, a small apple, and a glass of milk.
A nutritious breakfast is now complete.
Although he is young, Ethan is still growing.
The hardships Ethan had endured in Spider's End had intensified his craving for food.
After stuffing a few more small cookies into his mouth to fill the gap, he...
Ethan covered his mouth and let out a satisfied burp, his cheeks flushed from eating.
This contrasted sharply with Michael and Mandy, who were standing beside him, unable to eat.
There's no other reason than the sheer presence of the gaze fixed on Ethan!
Michael and Mandy were just caught in the crossfire, and they were on pins and needles.
It feels like my every move is being watched!
At this point, they began to envy Isana's unwavering character, no matter what.
It is said that when drawing, one does not look at the person, but at the lines of muscles and bones.
Does Ethan think everyone else is like that too?
Michael curiously peeked over and whispered, "Ethan, how do you usually see me?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow: "Little Maradona—"
Michael: "Hey, stop, stop! I meant on the surface, it's just—"
Mandy adjusted her glasses and replied, "From a physical perspective."
"Aww~"
Ethan suddenly realized, his gaze sweeping over Michael from top to bottom.
Michael was so nervous that he instinctively straightened his back.
After waiting for two seconds.
Ethan shook his head: "The taste is so-so."
Michael: "Huh?"
He paused for a moment, then his expression gradually turned ashen and filled with terror.
Ethan turned his head again, looking at Mandy with equal concern, and said gently, "You need to gain some weight; you're not very chewy."
Mandy: "...Thank you."
Come on.
Looking at Michael's conflicted expression, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated, then hesitated again but still wanted to say something.
Mandy understood that the silly boy didn't have time to care about those prickling eyes right now.
More important, life-or-death questions are troubling him.
After breakfast.
Amidst the watchful eyes of the crowd, as if they were seeing a king off from court, Ethan steadily left, carrying his textbooks.
Meanwhile, he was thinking about how to take advantage of—no, how to "accept" Quirrell's kindness.
First, let him collect as many unicorn hairs as possible.
A single unicorn hair can fetch around ten Galleons.
Not to mention canvases woven from dozens of unicorn hairs.
If he were to use his own secret stash of money, it would be gone in no time.
Wow, art really costs money!
To explain why Ethan doesn't care about those stares...
On the one hand, he only feels "enjoyment".
Like bathing in a hot spring, Ethan would gladly accept both admiration and disgust.
To admire me means that my ideas have been spread.
Dislike of me means that my ideas have been spread.
If someone dislikes me, it must be because my thoughts and actions have touched upon their interests and pain.
Double the pleasure.
on the other hand.
Ethan is thinking all the time.
Think about the future, think about knowledge, think about paintings.
With so much mental energy required, there's naturally no time to dwell on those other perspectives.
Just as Ethan was about to head to the classroom, a cool, clear voice rang out from behind him:
"Mr. Ethan Vincent, please wait a moment."
Ethan turned his head and was surprised to see another inductee, Gemma Farley, the current prefect of Slytherin.
The girl had long, flowing hair, and her snow-white face was framed by a pair of emotionless eyes that coldly looked down at him.
Her lips parted slightly:
"I have something to tell you."
(I've been recommended three times already! Thank you so much, everyone! I'm bowing my head in gratitude! You've really given me a lot of support! I'll definitely update a lot more after it's released! Thank you so much!!!)