NABC Chapter 195 Quirrell Discharged from Hospital
Chapter 195 Quirrell Discharged from Hospital
Chapter 195 Quirrell Discharged from Hospital
"Where to? Diagon Alley?"
That will be our first stop.
Hearing Ryan say this, Quirrell's lips curled into a sorrowful smile: "It seems I have no reason to refuse."
"Let's go then, let's find Mrs. Pomfrey to handle the discharge procedures. Do you need any assistance?"
"Thank you, but no need."
Ryan said, "It's worth mentioning that it's more pleasant to listen to you when you don't pretend to stutter."
Perhaps it was because he had escaped Voldemort's control, perhaps it was because he had brought this upon himself, or perhaps it was because there was still a glimmer of hope after he had brought this upon himself—Quirok actually felt a sense of relief for the first time in a long time.
Thank you.
"No need to thank me, Quirrell. Ever since you mustered the courage to fight against Voldemort, whether we succeeded or failed, we've been on the same side."
Quirrell was speechless. He suddenly understood what Professor Fritley had said about Ryan's character when he visited him—it turned out that he only cared about those he thought should be cared about.
Just like that night in the Forbidden Forest, Ryan came to find him.
The discharge procedures were completed successfully.
Because all of Quirrell's vital signs were normal, he fully met the criteria for discharge.
What Quirrell couldn't let go of was that his injuries prevented him from becoming a wizard, and that his shortsightedness and stupidity almost led to a catastrophe.
He was trapped by himself, not by this small school clinic.
Diagon Alley was packed with people outside Ollivander's Wand Shop, making the already narrow streets of Diagon Alley even more congested with pedestrian traffic.
These people weren't dressed particularly well, and each of them was either squatting or sitting directly on the ground. They were right next to Ollivander's wand shop, looking at everyone who walked in with hopeful eyes.
The owner of these gazes hopes that every wizard who walks out of Ollivander's wizarding shop, especially the one carrying a long staff, will be smiling, full of hope and vitality.
"So many people."
"Almost all aspiring magicians around the world who have the opportunity to know about this will come here."
At the end of the long street, Ryan and Quirrell appeared.
Quirrell was surprised by the sheer number of people. In his mind, Squibs were a very, very rare group. The only Squib he had ever seen in his life was Filch, the castle caretaker at Hogwarts: "I thought there would be very few Squibs."
Ryan pulled up the hood of his wizarding robes, completely concealing himself. He had come with Quirrell to choose some wands, and time was limited, so he couldn't chat with the draconic wizards who had come on pilgrimage: "We can't see them, we can't touch them, we don't even know if they exist. Naturally, we don't care about their joys and sorrows. In fact, most Squibs perceive themselves as ordinary people, not wizards. In any Ministry of Magic's propaganda, they are all Squibs; we shouldn't forget the glory of wizards. Squibs are part of the wizarding world. How ironic."
"I won't wear a hat—to give these people a little confidence boost." Quirrell realized that Ryan was afraid of wasting time.
If this father of maggots were to appear at Ollivander's Wand Shop, the holy land of maggots, the commotion would be enough to keep them occupied for days.
Even before the next day, reporters, having caught wind of the news, would swarm in and surround the place.
Thank you.
The two pushed open the door of Ollivander's Wand Shop, passing through the eager gazes.
The gate slowly closed, symbolizing the gate of hope in the land of light, blocking their view but not their boiling and passionate hearts.
A long time passed, and when the gate opened again, those who had been entrenched there in search of hope saw a pale-faced wizard without a hood struggling to lift an iron rod.
The moment the wizard stepped out, an astonishing burst of color erupted from the other end of the iron rod, with a clear spring gushing forth and transforming into a dazzling red rainbow that hung upside down in the sky.
"good!"
"good!"
Countless cheers erupted, accompanied by applause.
Everyone remembered this magician who could cast complex spells.
This pale face also became one of their spiritual idols.
Having left Ollivander's Wand Shop and arrived at Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the father of magic and the spiritual icon of magic, asks a passing student where Mrs. Maxim is now.
"Professor Ryan? And who is this?" Fleur Delacour was very lucky to find the professor who had disappeared after class.
Although the professor looked about the same age as them, he was also a student at another magic academy.
However, all the students at Beauxbatons trusted the professor implicitly.
The reason is simple: this professor, at a young age, was already a direct disciple of Master Nicolas Flamel and was deeply trusted by Dumbledore, so both his magical skills and his character were absolutely guaranteed.
The students privately remarked that this new alchemy professor was far more innovative than their previous one, constantly coming up with new ideas and imaginative works. Under his guidance, Beauxbatons witnessed a new wave of interest in alchemy.
Fleur was one of them. Although she was only at a very basic level of alchemy, she used this approach to magically improve Muggle skincare products, which became very popular at the academy.
"This is Professor Quirrell from Hogwarts. Professor Quirrell and I have come to see Madam Maxim," Lane said.
"Madam is in the principal's office now, please come with me."
Since he was a professor at Hogwarts, it meant that Ryan had come on official business. So even though Fleur wanted to say something to the professor, she didn't linger, so as not to delay his business.
The three headed to the headmaster's office. Fortunately, there were no gargoyles at the entrance to Beauxbatons' headmaster's office, and no password was required. In addition, Fleur had facial recognition access with Mrs. Maxim, so Ryan and Quirrell easily entered the headmaster's office.
"Our professor is back? What's up this time?"
Mrs. Maxim looked up, intending to ask Fleur why she had come to see her, but swallowed the question back down her throat.
"Headmaster, a professor has something to discuss with you. This is Professor Quirrell from Hogwarts. If there's nothing else, I'll head back now," Fleur said, knowing she wasn't yet in a position to interfere in the professors' conversation.
To everyone's surprise, Mrs. Maxim refused her request, stood up, and pulled her aside, introducing her to Quirrell: "Beauxbatons' best student, Fleur Delacour. She's also the only student helping out at the Squib—the Magisterium Education Base."