"Ah!"
Quirrell could no longer maintain the spell, struck by Lucien's Expelliarmus, and his wand immediately flew out of his hand.
But Quirrell completely ignored his wand; he could only kneel on the floor, hands clutching his head, groaning in agony.
After the spell confrontation ended, the mad laughter in his mind gradually quieted but continued to linger.
Sometimes like needle pricks, sometimes like knife cuts, tormenting Quirrell's nerves.
Looking at Quirrell, who lay motionless on the ground, gradually falling silent.
Lucien's heart skipped a beat.
What was going on?
Was it the effect of the wand's abnormality just now?
He had heard a chuckle, just like when he first got the wand, only a bit clearer.
But Quirrell's reaction was too extreme, like he had been severely beaten.
Why wasn't he moving or making any sound?
No way, he couldn't have killed Professor Quirrell, could he?
It was just an Expelliarmus, not Avada Kedavra.
What was this, a teaching accident?
"Professor Quirrell, are you hurt? Shall I take you to the infirmary, or should I call Professor Snape? He's very good at Potions."
"Forget it, I'll just call Headmaster Dumbledore; he's even more…"
"No need!"
Quirrell sprang to his feet, his pale face covered in un-receded veins and sweat, forcing out a pained smile.
"No, no problem, I'm, I'm fine."
"This tutoring session, will just end here."
After Lucien left the office, a few minutes passed.
Quirrell was still kneeling on the ground.
"I, I'm sorry, Master, I, I shouldn't have disturbed your rest."
"What happened just now?"
Lord Voldemort was not angry; instead, he asked Quirrell with great solemnity.
After Quirrell recounted what had just happened, including Lucien's clearly abnormal magic and the sudden terrifying and eerie laughter during their duel.
After waiting for a while, Lord Voldemort did not give any reply.
Quirrell didn't dare to press further, only silently enduring the mental pain.
"Master the Dark Arts I gave you as soon as possible. The longer you wait, the greater the risk of an accident."
"Yes, yes, my Master."
…
After leaving Quirrell's office, Lucien headed straight for the Headmaster's Office.
Along the way, he was also thinking about what had just happened.
After his wand showed an abnormality, Quirrell obviously became distressed.
So, it was pretty much confirmed to be the wand's influence.
The wand…
Lucien looked at the silver-black wand in his hand.
Different wands, depending on the materials of their core and body, combine to form different characteristics.
And after this period of casting spells, he had gradually figured out the characteristics of this wand.
First, the wand's body: perhaps because of the unpredictable nature of loki fir, the wand was very tolerant of magic.
At least for the spells he had cast so far, the magic flowed through the wand without any sense of blockage, very smoothly.
Unlike some wands that would reject brilliant and bright magic, or repel curses.
Additionally, Lucien also noticed that the more times a single spell was cast, the smoother the magic output became when passing through the wand.
That should be the Sphinx's spine feather, which serves as the core, at work.
He had even specifically observed that as the number of castings increased, the ethereal silver runes on the wand's surface also became increasingly complex and intricate, making them dazzling to behold.
But the source of that immense impact on Quirrell was…
Lucien remembered that when he chose his wand, this one had actively chosen him.
It must have sensed the Loki Faceless on him, creating an almost fundamental attraction.
So, was it the period of adjustment, the prolonged contact with him, that made the wand acquire some additional special qualities?
According to what happened just now, the anomaly only appeared after a sustained magical bombardment.
Perhaps he could try it again?
But who to test it on…
Lucien walked until he arrived at the entrance of the Headmaster's Office.
Guarding the Headmaster's Office was a gargoyle.
"Password."
A deep, rumbling voice came from the gargoyle's mouth.
Lucien paused. Right, to enter the Headmaster's Office, one needed to provide the correct password before the gargoyle would allow passage.
Last time, he was directly led to the Headmaster's Office by the Phoenix Fawkes, so he didn't go through this process.
Tsk, old Dumbledore seemed to like using sweets as passwords. He couldn't possibly try them all, could he?
As Lucien was pondering, suddenly, a ball of crimson flame appeared out of thin air beside him.
Immediately following, a large red bird flew out of it.
"Fawkes?"
Lucien extended his arm, and Fawkes naturally landed on it.
"Are you here for me?"
As if understanding Lucien's words, Fawkes nodded very human-like and simultaneously rubbed against Lucien's hair.
The next second, flames enveloped both the person and the bird.
As the flames dissipated, no one remained before the gargoyle.
The air was silent for a moment.
A buzzing sound came from the gargoyle's mouth again:
"Tsk, what a boring job."
Inside the Headmaster's Office.
Dumbledore sat at a table, where several plates of Chocolate Frogs, Cockroach Clusters, Ice Mice, and other sweets were already laid out.
"Heh heh, good afternoon, Lucien."
"Good afternoon, Headmaster Dumbledore."
Lucien walked over and sat opposite Dumbledore.
After exchanging greetings, both remained silent in mutual understanding.
Dumbledore observed Lucien with his bright eyes, occasionally a glint of shrewdness showing from behind his half-moon spectacles.
He was checking Lucien for any signs of being affected by Dark Arts curses.
Only when he found no issues did Dumbledore nod almost imperceptibly.
"Have you experienced any interesting school life these past few days?"
Hearing Dumbledore's question, Lucien quickly reviewed his recent activities.
Teaching Harry Potions, walking the dog in the Forbidden Forest, playing with Acromantulas, beating Cerberus, chatting with Centaurs…
Hiss, he had done quite a bit, and it was all rather interesting.
Hmm, but there wasn't much he could actually talk about.
"I studied Potions with my classmates and planted some vegetables in Hagrid's garden."
Dumbledore chuckled, stroking his beard. He had already learned from Hagrid that Lucien was helping Harry with Potions.
This bond with friends and spirit of helpfulness greatly pleased Dumbledore.
Especially for a child as gifted as Lucien, it was often difficult to integrate into a group. This wasn't necessarily arrogance stemming from self-importance; it was purely that, given their abilities, it was hard for them to understand and empathize with others.
But since Lucien was willing to help his classmates with their studies, it showed that he wasn't such a "lofty" genius; instead, he could get along well with people.
Recalling their previous conversation about the Dark Arts, and Lucien's attitude and understanding of the subject, Dumbledore felt even more reassured.
"That sounds very fulfilling. Oh, you just finished tutoring with Professor Quirrell, right? How was it?"
Lucien thought for a moment. It was a normal tutoring session, followed by a spar. Although there was a minor incident, he still gained a lot.
"Hmm, it was great. To be honest, if Professor Quirrell could display that level of skill when there are more people around, he might be a very popular teacher."
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