Chapter 28 Voldemort's Dependence
Soon, over a month passed, and the time came to the eve of Christmas.
Today's Defense Against the Dark Arts Class was attended by both Slytherin and Ravenclaw.
Professor Quirrell, still wrapped in his thick purple turban and holding a large chameleon, stammered through the theoretical aspects of Defense Against the Dark Arts Class.
Although his speaking pace was unique, this class was quite interesting compared to the dry Astronomy and History of Magic.
Especially History of Magic; it was baffling what the school was thinking, to actually hire a ghost to teach the class.
While a ghost's experience far surpasses that of a living person, the ghost in charge of teaching was a bit muddled, often going off-topic halfway through the lecture.
Professor Quirrell seemed to be in poor condition, even weaker than usual, as if he had just recovered from a serious illness.
This was Professor Quirrell's private matter, and Aaron had no interest in understanding what had happened to him, but one thing did concern him.
That was when Professor Quirrell paced to Aaron's side in the classroom, Abey, who had been napping on the table, suddenly stood up.
It stood on all four feet on the table, baring its teeth at Professor Quirrell, its gaze fixed intently on his turban.
"Gaius... Mr. Gaius, what's... what's wrong with your cat?" Professor Quirrell asked nervously, but his body involuntarily recoiled a step.
Aaron immediately picked up Abey and said with some difficulty, "Professor, my cat has been a bit too high on garlic lately, and your scent... is really a bit too strong."
Aaron didn't even believe what he was saying. Defense Against the Dark Arts Class was twice a week, and it had been so long since school started that there had been at least a dozen classes, but Abey had never acted this way before!
Most importantly, our cat never eats garlic.
"Is, is that so?" Professor Quirrell swallowed, looking at the fierce cat that might pounce at any moment, "I'm so sorry, should I move further away?"
"That wouldn't be appropriate!" Aaron said with a wry smile, then moved Abey to another corner of the table, "It's better to keep it further away."
As their distance widened, both man and cat seemed to return to normal. Abey still held a hint of hostility, while Aaron inadvertently noticed a flicker of sharp light in Professor Quirrell's eyes.
That cold gaze, filled with intense killing intent, made his body instinctively shiver.
Damn it! Professor Quirrell was definitely not simple, at least not as meek as he appeared on the surface, or rather, his meekness was all an act.
This guy definitely had a problem, otherwise, Abey, who possessed sacred attributes, wouldn't dislike him so much.
Suddenly, Aaron seemed to realize something. Could Professor Quirrell be Lord Voldemort's host?
This possibility was not non-existent, and even quite high.
Thinking of this, Aaron felt his back drenched in sweat, then instantly adjusted his state. If this guess was correct, he absolutely could not let Quirrell see his abnormality, otherwise, he might have to face Lord Voldemortprematurely.
Although Lord Voldemort's goal was to steal the Philosopher's Stone, he would never easily expose himself before achieving his goal, but it was better to be safe than sorry!
Fortunately, Quirrell had most of his attention on the harmless Abey, and didn't pay too much attention to Aaron, completely missing the rich changes in his expression during those two short seconds.
Aaron's psychological quality was quite good. Before class ended, he acted 'normal' throughout and left the classroom without incident.
"That scared me to death, I thought Quirrell was going to keep me!" Aaron thought with lingering fear, feeling a sense of relief.
As long as Quirrell didn't suspect him this time, he would have enough confidence not to show any flaws when facing Quirrell next time.
As for now, it was better to let nature take its course... The afternoon class was Charms Class. After a long period of basic learning, Professor Flitwick finally decided to teach the first-years spells.
In the classroom, Gryffindor and Slytherin students sat on the left and right sides respectively. Each person's desk had a white feather, and Professor Flitwick, who was the size of a dwarf, stood on a pile of books to teach.
"As a wizard, one of your fundamental skills is to make things float, to have the ability to make objects fly.
Have you all received your feathers?"
Hermione immediately raised her feather, making it very clear for Professor Flitwick to see.
"Excellent."
"Now, don't forget the wrist movement we've been practicing, a swish and a flick, together." Professor Flitwicksaid as he drew out his wand and demonstrated to everyone.
"The incantation must be clear, Wingardium Leviosa. You all practice!"
Immediately, the students in the classroom began to wave their wands, chanting the spell at the feathers in front of them.
Aaron smiled and shook his head. He had known these simple spells years ago. He had even used this Levitation Charm to fly Abey like a kite when it was still an egg.
He simply waved his wand lightly, without even chanting the spell, and the pure white feather floated up, slowly flying to the ceiling before stopping.
Everyone stopped what they were doing, silently watching the feather floating in mid-air, marveling at Aaron's talent while also feeling a sense of frustration.
"Excellent, everyone look here, Mr. Gaius succeeded!" Professor Flitwick said excitedly.
Then everyone tried harder. Ron chanted the spell, but he obviously forgot the wrist movement, constantly flicking his wand, and the air was filled with rustling sounds.
"No, stop, you're going to poke someone's eye out!" Hermione, sitting next to him, immediately interrupted him. "Besides, you're saying it wrong, it's Le-vi-O-sa, not La-vi-ah-sa."
"You're so smart, why don't you try it then!" Ron said defiantly.
Hermione said nothing more, just picked up her wand, flicking her wrist lightly, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The next moment, another feather flew into the air.
Ron was dumbfounded, pouting as he slumped onto his textbook.
The third to succeed was Draco Malfoy, but his gaze towards Hermione was full of defiance. Although he was the third to succeed, the gap between him and Aaron and Hermione was still a bit large.
Both of them succeeded on their first try, while he tried no less than five times.
"You did quite well for your first time learning this spell," Aaron comforted him.
"But she..."
"Draco, your talent is quite good.
But Hermione spends all her time, except for eating, classes, and sleeping, reading books. If you can do that, you won't be worse than anyone."
Malfoy was stunned for a moment, then looked at Hermionein surprise, murmuring, "Why was she sorted into Gryffindor? Shouldn't she be in Ravenclaw?"
"Who knows! Perhaps she possesses tenacious courage, and that courage is stronger than her thirst for knowledge."
Having received a barely plausible answer, Malfoy stopped talking, silently turned his head, and instructed his two cronies to learn the spell.
Bang!
A strong flash of light suddenly appeared, and the sudden loud noise startled everyone. Professor Flitwick almost fell off the pile of books.
Everyone looked over in unison, only to see Seamus, his face charred black, sitting dazedly in his seat with a hedgehog-like hairstyle, motionless as if he had been scared silly.
Looking at the feather on the table, which had already turned to ash, it was easy to guess what had happened.
His deskmate, Harry Potter, was also affected, half of his face also turned black. "We need another feather here, Professor Flitwick."
Seeing this, Aaron silently shook his head in his heart. Seamus's spellcasting talent was truly exceptionally poor. If there were ten explosions in the classroom, at least five of them were caused by him.
After class, Ron walked along the path, full of dissatisfaction, grumbling sarcastically to Harry, Seamus, and another Gryffindor friend: "It's Le-vi-O-sa, not La-vi-ah-sa!
What a know-it-all, I can't stand it, no wonder she doesn't have many friends."
Just then, Hermione, carrying books, walked past Ronquickly, her arm bumping into him.
Her face was not looking good, and there was even a hint of a sob in her voice.
"I think she heard you," Harry said.
"So what, she doesn't have many friends anyway," Ron said indignantly.
"Ahem!" Aaron appeared behind them at some point. "That's not true, at least I'm her friend.
Also, a small piece of advice: if you don't want to lose Hermione as a friend, then go and apologize to her.
You should also go and apologize to her, after all, speaking ill of people behind their backs isn't a good thing to do."
"Why should I?" Ron's gaze was a bit evasive, but after seeing the Slytherin robes Aaron was wearing, he became much bolder. "I didn't say anything wrong, and besides, our Gryffindor matters are none of your business, Slytherin."
"Oh! So that's what you think!" Aaron sneered, "I was originally going to try and mend your relationship with Malfoy, but now it seems I might have been overthinking it."
With that, Aaron left without looking back. Harry wanted to say something to keep him, but he opened his mouth and nothing came out.