In the Apocalypse, I Can Enter Hogwarts

Chapter 88 The Care from Senior Tom

After a simple lunch, Ian leaned back on the bed and fell asleep fully clothed. A midday nap is undoubtedly a very good habit, whether it's to replenish energy or relieve fatigue.

……

A forty-minute nap is better than three hours of light sleep. After sitting up from the bed and straightening his wrinkled coat, he prepared to go out.

After all, he had a legendary Defense Against the Dark Arts class waiting for him in the afternoon, so he opened his pocket watch to check the time.

"Twenty minutes, just the right amount of time. But I feel like this class might not be as easy as it used to be..." Ian muttered to himself.

Compared to the previous months, he had been behaving quite normally in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, not deliberately staring at Quirrell's back of the head, nor foolishly trying to provoke him or stop him from asking questions...

Knowing he has problems, why did she still choose to get close to him? I have a feeling she should see a psychiatrist. Luckily, Ian is a typical Ravenclaw; he still has that much wisdom.

In short, during these past few months of school, he and senior Tom have gotten along fairly well. Everything has been peaceful and uneventful; everyone's happy...

But now that Professor Flitwick knows he has a phoenix, there's no reason why Quirrell or Tom should still be kept in the dark.

……

In the afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Rocky, as always, delivered his lecture to the students in his halting, monotonous manner, reading directly from the textbook.

Unlike Professor Binns' history of magic, people still retain some basic dignity towards this living professor; at least they don't let him sleep around carelessly.

However, it remains unknown whether the young wizards were simply showing respect to their teacher or were unable to sleep due to the strong, pungent smell of garlic emanating from him.

Finally, Quirrell finished his hour-long, passionate speech and announced the end of get out of class. As for homework? Perhaps Quirrell himself didn't think anyone would do the assignments he gave.

In short, Defense Against the Dark Arts class was always without homework.

The young wizards filed out of the classroom, and just when Ian thought he was overthinking things, he finally heard the other person's voice: "Mr. Titus, please...please wait a moment."

Ian nodded in agreement. He then sat firmly in his seat, and the two of them did not exchange a single word. After all the young wizards in the classroom had left, Quirrell waved his wand and firmly closed the classroom door.

"I wonder what Professor Quirrell wants with me?" Ian watched the other's actions with amusement.

As for panic and fear? Absolutely not. If it were Voldemort in his prime, he definitely wouldn't be able to beat him now, but facing Tom in this remnant soul state? It's hard to say who will have the upper hand. With the phoenix by his side and his own bloodline awakened twice, that's the confidence Ian has to sit here so steadily.

"Nothing special, I just can't help but want to encourage outstanding students."

This time, Quirrell no longer stuttered; instead, he spoke at a steady pace with a melodious and rhythmic tone, which at first glance gave him a touch of aristocratic elegance.

Upon hearing this, Ian couldn't help but think to himself, "Oh, it's Senior Tom."

After a brief pause, Quirrell, who was being controlled by his senior, continued:

"I think you should understand the current state of wizards. Don't you think the future of this stagnant magical world is going to be tragic? The conflict between Muggles and wizards has existed for a long time, and it is an inevitable and irreconcilable contradiction."

Ian suddenly realized that there might indeed be a reason why Voldemort could stir up trouble in the British Isles. Circumstances create heroes, but from another perspective, isn't it also heroes who stir up the winds and clouds of history?

With Voldemort's single, fragmented soul now unaffected by the other Horcruxes, Ian had to admit that what Voldemort said in his rational state actually made some sense.

However, Ian knew perfectly well what kind of person Voldemort would be after his resurrection, so he didn't intend to continue arguing with him.

He immediately said, "There's also the Secrets Act. The Secrets Act was enacted to alleviate the conflict between Muggles and wizards."

"Secrecy Act? Hahaha, you're telling me about the Secret Act? Do you know what the busiest department in the Ministry of Magic was in the early 20th century? It wasn't the Department of Law Enforcement, nor the Department of International Magical Cooperation. It was the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters. This department with hundreds of people was almost unable to contain the existence of wizards, especially in the decades since the Muggle population in Britain exploded..."

"What does that have to do with me? I'm just a student. These are matters for the Minister of Magic to consider. So, my dear Professor Quirrell, I think I should go. As I said, I'm just a student, and I have another class waiting for me in a bit."

As Ian spoke, he silently gripped his wand in his hand, as if he were about to start a fight at the slightest provocation.

Perhaps it was a change in mindset. Compared to the calm exchange just now, Ian now had the intention to fight, and the vast magic power in his body also boiled. An invisible sense of blood pressure suddenly emanated from him and then surged towards Quirrell opposite him.

Quirrell, or Voldemort, showed no change in his attitude toward Ian, saying calmly, "Mr. Titus, you're right. As a student, you should prioritize your studies. You can leave at any time."

"Thank you for your understanding, Professor Quirrell." After Ian finished speaking, he slowly walked towards the door, but kept his wand firmly in his hand.

……

Once Ian's figure had completely disappeared outside the gate, Quirrell weakly muttered to himself, "I don't understand, Master. Why didn't you just control him? Controlling him would have been like having a phoenix, which would have been far more advantageous for your plans."

"How utterly foolish! Even with your barren brain, you know he possesses a phoenix. How could you possibly capture him? Even without a phoenix, he wouldn't be easy to deal with. But it's good that he's already embarked on the path of bloodline; sooner or later, he'll stand with me..."

After Voldemort finished speaking, silence gradually fell, leaving Quirrell alone in the classroom, breathing weakly. Voldemort may have seemed nonchalant just moments before, but the invisible struggle between their magical powers had drained too much of Quirrell's life force.

……

After Ian left the classroom, he looked down on Voldemort even more, and didn't even have the courage to make a move.

That situation was the most advantageous moment for Voldemort. As long as he could control himself, it would be as if he had the Phoenix's help. Whether it was to steal the Philosopher's Stone or to use it for his future escape, he would be invincible.

He could also sense that even in Voldemort's remnant soul state, if the opponent went all out, without the aid of the Phoenix, their chances in a real fight were at most 40/60, and that 40% would be on his side. After all, Voldemort had almost crossed the threshold of four bloodline awakenings, and his strength was not just talk.

"You have the strength, but not the courage. It seems your ten years of wandering in the Albanian Black Forest have smoothed out your rough edges," Ian couldn't help but think to himself.

However, this was nothing to him; at most, it was just a minor incident in his life, something to talk about over tea.

No wonder Ian was so confident. His frantic studying over the past week had not only relieved his neck, shoulder, back, and leg pain, but his biggest gain was that he had basically completed the recipe for the bloodline potion.

By using the blood activity of a special parasite as a starting point, and then adding the blood of a magical animal, the two are fused together to reach a critical point of balance, thus perfectly solving the activity problem that had been troubling him.

All that's left is some finishing touches, nothing serious. Ian figured that after returning to the apocalypse, he could finally try concocting potions for the first time.

As for the magical creature blood, he had already chosen his target. Considering his own situation, he planned to ask Dumbledore for some phoenix blood. He had only approached Dumbledore once before, when he was using the infinitely expandable backpack. Apart from that, he had never asked the other party for anything.

Therefore, the old favors still lingered. Although phoenix blood was extremely rare, he estimated that if he swallowed his pride and begged, he could still obtain a small amount.

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A heartfelt thank you to all the readers! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

The seedlings need your help and support!

(P.S.: New book, please add to your favorites, recommend, invest in, and vote with monthly tickets.)

A heartfelt thank you to all the readers! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

The seedlings need your help and support!

(End of this chapter)