Make Wizards Great Again

Since Christmas night, Bassheda has suddenly become very strange.

She always seems absent-minded, even during her favorite meal of rice. When asked what's wrong, she won't say anything and continues to drift off into thought.

Just like a girlfriend who's insecure and always looking for trouble, ignoring her won't solve the problem, and ignoring her won't solve the problem either.

The Christmas holidays are drawing to a close amidst a lot of confusion.

Perhaps she figured things out on her own, or perhaps it was the popularity brought by the returning students, but Bassheda finally returned to her former self, eating well and enjoying her food.

With her rear secured, Belvina could now focus her attention and prepare to deal with the utterly foolish Quirinas Quiro.

Late the night before school started, Belvina reappeared in the abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. Perhaps because the students were returning to school one after another, the Eris Mirror in the classroom had been moved away at some point.

Tonight, Belvina wrapped herself in a thick cloak, leaning against a table and chairs piled against the wall, her whole body shrouded in dark shadows.

After a while, footsteps sounded in the corridor outside the door, and the owner of the footsteps stopped at the door of the abandoned classroom as expected.

Squeak.

The half-open classroom door was opened, and Quirinas Quirrell, his head wrapped in a headscarf, poked his head in. He looked around the classroom layout until he could see Belvina in the shadows before he stepped inside.

"What, worried I'll report you to Dumbledore?" Belvina chuckled, still not quite used to Quirrell's self-contradictions.

You might think Quirrell is cautious, but he's capable of murdering Harry in front of everyone at the Quidditch pitch and getting involved with the ambiguous Belvina.

To say Quirrell was careless is an understatement; Belvina never caught him spying on the Philosopher's Stone, and her suspicions of him were mostly speculation and based on his self-destruction.

"I choose to trust you, to believe you are a person with lofty ideals, Miss Black. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come to you again and again," Quirrell said, speaking fluently and without hesitation.

Belvina fell silent. She thought she was thick-skinned enough, but she didn't expect there to be people more shameless than her. Quirrell's skin was just as thick, if not more, than hers.

"Thank you for your trust, but I am pessimistic about your lofty ideals." Belvina remained in the shadows, watching Quirrell standing at the door from afar.

Quirrell's face turned pale and then red; he could hear the faint sarcasm hidden in his words.

So all he did was curse Harry Potter during the competition. He did it so discreetly, and he almost succeeded. Why do people always use this to mock him?

Fortunately, it was dark, so Quirrell didn't have to worry about anyone seeing his unpleasant expression.

He paused for a moment, then continued, "That's because you don't yet understand how great what I'm doing is. Once you understand, you'll definitely join our great cause and dedicate your life to it."

us?

This "we" probably doesn't refer to you and me, right?

Belvina, standing in the shadows, raised her hand to smooth her long hair. She had always felt that Quirrell's brain was rusty, and now she finally understood: Quirrell's brain had clearly been shrunk by a charade.

"A great undertaking." Belvina said slowly, as if savoring the words. "Stealing the Philosopher's Stone to gain immortality or turn lead into gold, that's not great, Quirinas. Unless you can turn one Philosopher's Stone into two."

The night before school started was quiet. Quirrell took a step forward, the sound of his heel hitting the ground unusually clear.

He said, "It seems you already know that the Philosopher's Stone is hidden in the school."

Belvina nodded at first, then realized that Quirrell might not be able to see, so she had to speak again, saying, "Your information is outdated. I not only know that the Philosopher's Stone is hidden in the school, but I also know that it was stored in Gringotts Vault 713 during the summer."

"Aren't the fairies' traps and magic fun?" Belvina continued. "To be able to escape unscathed from a place like Gringotts, I must say you're quite capable."

Quirrell looks weak and frail, even being chased and beaten by students' magical snowballs. Who could possibly connect the Gringotts intrusion incident to him?

Belvina emerged from the dark shadows, and the winter moonlight streamed into the classroom, bathing her in a silvery glow.

"To trample the face of the Gringotts goblins underfoot, this is exactly what I wanted to do."

With a sudden change in attitude, Quirrell's unpleasant expression began to improve, and two blushes crept onto his cheeks as if he were drunk.

"Actually, Gringotts' security measures aren't as terrible as the legends say," Quirrell said with a hint of pride. "They're too arrogant, to the point that they've forgotten the power of wizards and that we've defeated them many times."

Looking at Quirrell, who was talking eloquently, and at his radiant face, Belvina remained completely unmoved. She was good at pouring cold water on things and at keeping calm in a frenzied crowd.

"And what I want to do is restore the greatness of wizards, so that everyone will be ruled by wizards again!" Quirrell was as excited as a drunkard. "Whether it's centaurs, werewolves, or fairies, all intelligent beings will have to submit to the wizards."

With that, Quirrell strode excitedly toward Belvina and continued, "And of course, there are the despicable Muggles. I've thought about it carefully, and you're right, livestock are indispensable for carrying things."

Oh no, this guy's gone mad.

This was Belvina's first reaction; Hogwarts wasn't the Hog's Head, and there was no need for pub speeches or anything like that.

Besides, giving a speech to one person and giving a speech to a hundred people are two completely different things. Belvina felt that Quirrell was like a roaring beast.

"The Philosopher's Stone can't do those things. It can only grant you immortality or give you a pile of gold," Belvina began to pour cold water on the idea. If Quirrell continued his wild fantasies, the evening would be wasted.

However, this bucket of cold water seemed to have been poured on the wrong side; instead of quenching Quirrell's enthusiasm, it made her even more frantic.

Quirinas Quiro spread his arms wide, as if he were standing in a square with thousands of people, and spoke with great passion.

He said, "Miss Black, you spend all your time with Bernard, yet you know nothing of the true power of the Philosopher's Stone. It can bring a great wizard back to us, a great wizard who will lead us to victory and glory!"

Belvina fell silent. She understood the implication in Quirrell's words, his true purpose in stealing the Philosopher's Stone, and his insane ambition.

Did Dumbledore know about this?

Did the headmaster, perched atop the eighth floor of the castle, know that Quirrell's scheme involved more than just the Philosopher's Stone?

"And you, Miss Black, forever pure Miss Black, I want to share this honor with you. My master is willing to accept your loyalty."

Quirrell finally stopped his less-than-exciting speech. He wanted to use words to move Belvina and invite her to join his great cause and serve their master together.

Quirrell stared intently at Belvina, his hands clasped in front of him, awaiting her answer, awaiting the loyalty of the youngest daughter of the Black family.

"Why me?" Belvina asked. She already knew who Quirrell's master was, but she couldn't understand why he would choose her.

Was Snape, once a loyal servant, no longer reliable, or was Quirrell simply too incompetent to be trusted to recruit a new servant, even if this new servant openly associates with Muggles?

"I think no one understands better than Miss Black why you were chosen," Quirrell said slowly, as if repeating someone else's words.

He continued, "Your brothers and sisters are all loyal servants of the master and have earned his trust. Your father and grandfather were also supporters of the master. The eternally pure Blake will surely shine again because of the master!"

It's completely confirmed. Quirrell's words have solidified Belvina's vague memories and forced speculations. Who else could Quirrell's master be but the dying Dark Lord?

"Yes, no one knows why better than me," Belvina muttered, slowly lowering her head.

Where Quirrell couldn't see, Belvina's bright and captivating eyes shone even more brilliantly. If Dumbledore knew that Quirrell was working for the Dark Lord, would the headmaster still be able to remain unperturbed?

Belvina's shoulders trembled slightly, seemingly excited by Quirrell's grand idea, but in reality, she was simply reminded of the past, of an unresolved score she still had with the Dark Lord.

"The great master has decided to repay Blake for his support, and the master has bestowed this glory upon you, Belvina Blake," Quirrell said devoutly, like the most steadfast believer.

Belvina kept her head down; she disliked Quirrell's words—they were too harsh.

"I do not intend to accept this honor, Quirinas." Belvina raised her head, her expression unchanged.

Quirrell's expression changed repeatedly. He hadn't expected Belvina to be so ungrateful. What was this woman trying to do?

"However, I wouldn't mind offering that person any help I can," Belvina continued, "just like my father and grandfather did, providing support and assistance."

Quirrell was even more confused. This woman was unwilling to pledge allegiance to her master, yet she was willing to offer help. What was she thinking? Was she doing good deeds without expecting anything in return?

"Quirinus, we're both professors in Muggle Studies, so I'm sure you have some knowledge of Muggle culture. I happen to be reading Muggle mythology recently, and there's a hellhound named Cerberus in it. I think you'll find that interesting."

As she spoke, Belvina raised her hand and patted Quirrell on the shoulder.

"Good luck to you, and good luck to your master," Belvina said softly, tilting her head.

The footsteps faded into the distance. Quirrell stood there, stunned, in the abandoned classroom, still thinking about Belvina's kind words of advice before she left.