The screams were so loud that even the students in the Great Hall could hear them clearly.
Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Muggle-born student who had been dozing at the Hufflepuff table, suddenly opened his eyes.
Whose cat is that, Tom?
Outside the Great Hall, Professor Quirrell was punching the biting cabbage still clamped onto the back of his neck, his howls of pain echoing throughout the castle.
"Professor Quirrell?"
Professor McGonagall ran toward him, accompanied by Professors Flitwick and Sprout.
Seeing the cabbage still stubbornly attached, Professor Sprout quickly approached, and using some method, made the cabbage release him obediently, its round body wriggling as it leapt into her arms.
"Professor Quirrell, are you all right?" asked Professor Sprout, concerned. "Should we take you to the infirmary?"
Lying in the snow, Quirrell eyed the biting cabbage trembling in Sprout's arms and stepped back hastily.
The pain from the bite was secondary; what truly worried him was what that person might do…
Remembering the time he had cursed Potter's broom during a Quidditch match, which had led to days of severe punishment, a shiver ran down his spine. The feeling was unbearable.
"I… I… I'm fine." Blood still trickled from the back of Professor Quirrell's neck as he spoke. The bright red stained his dark turban, and even two garlic cloves streaked with blood fell to the ground with his movements.
"I'll… take care of this… I… I'm sorry." Gagging, he clutched his turban tightly and hurried away.
Harry noticed Quirrell's unusual behavior. Normally, even Flobberworms would be furious if subjected to such a prank. Why was the professor's first reaction not anger, but a hurried excuse to leave?
Could it be… he really was hiding a secret under that hood?
"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?" Professor McGonagall spotted the twins tiptoeing toward the Great Hall and approached them sternly. "What are you two doing here? I don't want to hear that this biting cabbage was one of your pranks."
"Sorry, Professor," Harry interrupted, regaining his composure. "Professor Sprout gave me this biting cabbage. I noticed something was wrong with it this morning, so I thought I'd bring it to the Great Hall for her to take a look."
"Really?" Professor McGonagall studied Harry carefully.
The Weasley twins sighed in relief and secretly gave Harry a thumbs-up. That little friend was so loyal!
Harry nodded quickly. "Yes, Professor."
"Indeed, Minerva," added Professor Sprout, "this biting cabbage was a gift I gave to Mr. Potter."
"And what's wrong with it?" McGonagall pressed, her tone laced with suspicion.
"It's a little lethargic," Harry replied.
No sooner had he spoken than the cabbage's large mouth opened and closed twice, making a gurgling sound, as if it were far from satisfied.
"Lethargic?" McGonagall asked, narrowing her eyes. For a brief instant, she had a flash of James.
But she shook the thought away. Merlin, how is this possible? Potter is so much like Lily… How could he be as mischievous as his father? It must be an illusion!
"Sorry, Professor, it was exactly like this this morning," Harry said, forcing a look of remorse, his bright green eyes fixed on McGonagall. "It's entirely my fault. I lost my balance while walking and dropped the cabbage. I never imagined it would…"
McGonagall's heart softened immediately. Lily had always been kind; her son surely wouldn't intentionally harm a teacher. It must have been an accident.
Her expression relaxed. "Since it wasn't intentional, there will be no further punishment, but Gryffindor will still lose ten points because of it."
"As for you two…" McGonagall glanced at the twins.
"Professor, we…" Fred and George tried to argue.
But McGonagall already knew everything. Coldly, she said, "The snowball behind the bushes… did you throw it?"
"Yes, Professor," they replied in unison.
"You two will come to my office for solitary confinement after the holidays!" McGonagall gave no chance for protest, delivering her verdict directly.
"Yes, Professor." The twins lowered their heads, but a flicker of relief shone in their eyes—it was only solitary confinement, not point loss or further punishment.
After McGonagall left, the twins put their arms around Harry's shoulders.
"Lion King, you're a true friend," they said. "Yes, you didn't betray us."
Harry shrugged and whispered to them, "This only makes me more curious about what's under Professor Quirrell's hood. Even when he was hit on the back of the head by a snowball and bitten by the cabbage, he didn't remove it. There must be a secret hidden there."
"That's right," Fred agreed. "You should have seen it. He'd rather let us go and pretend nothing happened than reveal what's under the hood. Very strange."
"Could something be growing on the back of his neck?" George asked, suspicious. "Like a malignant tumor, or… dragon pox?!"
"If it were dragon pox, it would be on his face and hands too. How could it be only on his head?" Harry shook his head.
He paused, then added, "I don't think it's a disease. Perhaps Professor Quirrell is researching some form of Dark Magic and doesn't want to be discovered."
"Dark Magic?!" the twins exclaimed in unison, whispering in surprise. "Isn't he the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Why would he research Dark Magic?"
"Well, as the saying goes, you can't defeat your enemy without understanding them," Harry shrugged. "Someone skilled in Defense Against the Dark Arts would naturally be familiar with Dark Magic; otherwise, how could they develop defenses against it?"
"That makes sense," the twins said. "So, Harry, why are you so certain?"
"It's simple. If it were a disease, even dragon pox, there'd be nothing to hide. But he'd rather swallow this bitter pill than reveal the secret under his turban. I can't think of any explanation other than Dark Magic."
The twins' eyes sparkled.
"So, what should we do?" they asked in unison.
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