Upon hearing Tewell utter his own name, Quirrell stood up abruptly, his face darkening. He had believed that no one could penetrate his disguise, which was his greatest reliance for staying at Hogwarts. But now, having his name called out so casually made him anxious. What if Dumbledore had also seen through it?
Quirrell was in turmoil. Truth be told, he didn't want to deal with the person in front of him anymore. He wanted to run away and shout loudly to Voldemort, "I quit!"
"Stay calm. If this person tells Dumbledore about you, it won't be him who comes to see you," Voldemort's voice echoed faintly in Quirrell's mind.
"But he still holds our weakness and could expose our identities at any time."
Voldemort snorted lightly, mocking someone, though it was unclear who. "Don't worry. His target is also the Philosopher's Stone. Before obtaining it, he won't choose to complicate matters. On the contrary, he'll 'take good care' of your identity."
Quirrell instantly understood Voldemort's meaning and relaxed.
"So, you mean he plans to help us get the Philosopher's Stone and then snatch it from us?" Quirrell asked, seeking confirmation.
Voldemort didn't respond further, but Quirrell already knew the answer. He sat back down, feeling more confident and relaxed.
"There's only one Philosopher's Stone. What if you get it first?" Quirrell asked casually.
"I can wait for you to finish using it first," Tewell replied dismissively.
They both knew that the moment one of them got the Philosopher's Stone would be the moment they would confront each other with wands drawn. How could one wait for the other to finish using it, as if it were a piece of clothing?
Quirrell understood this logic well, so he didn't expect to hear any useful answers.
"You know my identity, but I don't know yours. That's unfair," Quirrell remarked.
Tewell chuckled and looked up at Quirrell. "Fairness has no place in black market transactions, does it?"
"Yes, but there's room for negotiation," Tewell replied, sitting up straight and looking at Quirrell's face hidden under the hood, surprised by his sudden shrewdness.
"I may not know your identity," Quirrell said smugly, "but I need to know your progress and more information about that thing." Since the man in front of him knew that the first obstacle guarding the Philosopher's Stone was the three-headed dog, he must have already been inside. However, the fact that he needed Quirrell to explore and retrieve the Philosopher's Stone meant he couldn't proceed further. Therefore, Quirrell planned to rely on Tewell's information to obtain the Philosopher's Stone as soon as possible and then make a quick escape. Even if Dumbledore got angry later, by that time, Voldemort would have already been resurrected. What was there to fear?
With a soft laugh, Tewell recalled the plot. "I can tell you an additional piece of information—Dumbledore has hidden that thing in the final mirror and enchanted it himself."
Quirrell's expression under the hood changed immediately. He had long suspected that the protection of the Philosopher's Stone wouldn't be so simple and worried that Dumbledore might personally enchant it. His worries were confirmed sooner than expected.
"What kind of magic did Dumbledore use?" Quirrell asked eagerly. He couldn't help but be eager. If it was about dark magic, Voldemort wouldn't fear Dumbledore, but if it came to white magic, Dumbledore could outshine Voldemort by a mile!
"That's something you'll have to ask Dumbledore himself. Anyway, that's all I can say. Whether to trade or not is up to you," Tewell replied. He wasn't about to spill all the beans at once. At the very least, he had to wait until Quirrell cleared the chessboard and drew enough attention from Dumbledore before he could start stirring up trouble.
After some hesitation, Quirrell finally figured it out. "Go ahead, tell me the weakness of the three-headed dog. It's beneficial for both of us, isn't it?"
Tewell tapped the table lightly and left a word before departing. They were attracting too much attention, making it easy to attract some desperados. Although he wasn't afraid, it was still a hassle, especially since he couldn't reveal his identity yet.
Glancing at the word "music" above, Quirrell waved his hand, and the word disappeared.
For the same reason, he didn't linger long in the bar...
...
By the time Tewell returned to the castle, it was already 9 p.m., and the curfew would start in about an hour. For the professors, it was no big deal, but for the four students who had been suspended, time was running out.
"It was an oversight on my part. I didn't expect you all hadn't learned non-verbal spells yet," Tewell stifled a laugh as he watched the scene before him.
When Cedric and the other three first encountered the training dummy, they had hesitated about whether to engage in combat with it. However, this training dummy appeared rougher than described in the second year curriculum, lacking facial features and only having basic limbs.
With a bald head that didn't seem very intelligent, they hesitated for a moment but then resolved not to waste such an opportunity for combat practice and boldly approached.
However, they hadn't expected this expressionless dummy to be even more aggressive than a real person! Although it used conventional spells, its accuracy and casting speed were stronger than Professor Fawley's! Of course, that was because it was the first lesson, and the professor had taken it easy.
But they all had one thing in common: they couldn't beat it!
Fortunately, this dummy was quite considerate. Even when it sent them flying, it would protect them from getting hurt, so they could quickly start the next round of combat.
So it went on, with them being knocked down time and time again, only to stand before the dummy once more. After all, as the four students with the most ideas in the third year, enduring this long of a beating, they weren't without any counterattacks.
Soon, they learned a ladder-style attack, launching continuous assaults round after round, forcing the dummy into a passive defense.
However, when the dummy began to move, their plan fell apart.
In the end, they used the dummy's poorer senses to their advantage, targeting it with transfiguration spells to hinder its movements.
The effect was significant, and the dummy was almost hit by their spells. The only problem was—
The dummy evolved!
It used transfiguration for the first time, and its transfiguration was even more potent than theirs, instantly suspending the four of them from the ceiling...
"Professor, this dummy isn't training us; it's training itself!" George shouted indignantly after being lowered down.
"Cough, how could that be? We agreed this was a reward for you," Tewell replied, feeling a bit embarrassed that his intentions had been noticed.
This dummy was created by him combining insights from the chessboard and his understanding of the soul. Inside, it wasn't just imbued with memories but also had a hint of will. It was this hint of will that made the dummy seem conscious, allowing it to continuously learn during combat. This was why, despite only having memories of basic magic, it could ultimately use powerful transfiguration.
Hearing complaints from the four, Tewell took some sandwiches and a large bottle of pumpkin juice from his wallet.
"You haven't had dinner yet, have you? Quickly eat some before returning to the common room."
Fred, chewing on a sandwich, quipped, "The professor's bag really has everything in it."