Chapter 92. A Little Surprise in the Great Hall
Back in the dormitory, after changing into a different set of robes and downing a bottle of potion, Quirrell prepared to lie on the bed and rest for a while.
He felt injuries all over his body, as though his bones were on the verge of shattering, and even the slightest shift while lying down was agonising.
Moreover, because of sharing with Lord Voldemort, his already meagre energy had become even weaker, and his thinking seemed to have slowed further.
But Lord Voldemort at the back of his head could not feel Quirrell's misery and seemed still unwilling to let him rest.
He suddenly spoke, ordering Quirrell to hurry to the Great Hall at once; he still had tasks for him to do.
Grief-stricken, Quirrell endured the pain, got up, gritted his teeth, left the dormitory, and strode quickly along the corridor to the left.
In the Great Hall the revelry continued; students were tucking in and enjoying the feast, and the professors were raising their glasses and chatting away.
When a panting Quirrell entered the Great Hall, Severus Snape cast an unruffled glance at Albus Dumbledore and stood up, ready to cooperate with Quirrell.
"Sorry, I was held up by something and I'm late," Quirrell said with an awkward smile, forcing himself up onto the dais despite the pain.
Snape looked at Quirrell with an odd expression, as if to ask, "What's going on; why aren't you playing by the script?"
Quirrell seemed not to notice Snape's gaze; he murmured a few words to Professor Flitwick beside him, shifted the plate and cutlery before him, and began to taste the dishes set in front of him as if nothing were amiss.
Dumbledore's brow furrowed slightly, and he lifted his eyebrows subtly at Snape, asking what on earth was going on.
Snape gave a faint shake of the head, indicating that he didn't understand either, and that this was hardly the moment to ask in front of everyone.
By about halfway through the celebrations, everyone had almost finished eating; Dumbledore thought for a moment, intending to set up a bit of an entertainment programme.
But at that moment Quirrell suddenly raised his head, looking ahead with interest, as though something amusing were about to happen.
Dumbledore was stirred and gave Snape a look.
Without betraying anything, he took his wand in hand and made ready.
Two or three minutes later, Fred and George got up and began to sneak around the Great Hall, seizing the time to peddle their contraptions.
The pumpkin lanterns floating above the Great Hall suddenly shook violently, and the candles burning inside flickered, provoking waves of startled cries.
"It's coming; this is only just beginning. Even if I don't get the Philosopher's Stone today, I'll disgust you lot a bit at least."
Quirrell looked at the slightly chaotic scene below; thinking of what was about to arrive, the corners of his mouth curled, and his mood grew much lighter.
"Dumbledore..." Professor McGonagall spoke up, intending to ask Dumbledore whether this was a performance programme he had arranged.
Before Dumbledore could respond, streams of fearsome fire-red surged out of the pumpkin lanterns, hurtling at great speed towards the students who were either gaping or screaming.
Dumbledore's expression grew a shade more grave, and he swiftly cast a spell, but he did not manage to extinguish the fire dragons—only to slow their advance a little.
As the two fire dragons were about to collide head-on with the students, Quirrell wanted to grin.
This was the little surprise he and Lord Voldemort had worked together to prepare for the school's many staff and students; how could it be dealt with so easily?
And that wasn't all...
Just as the fire dragons rampaged, the bats circling high above suddenly had their eyes turn red and went mad, swarming down upon the frightened students in the Great Hall.
Screams erupted at once in the Great Hall; the upper-year students could still keep relatively calm, but the lower years did not do so well, clutching their heads and running everywhere with loud cries, as if they wished they could slip into a crack in the ground to hide.
"Scream, go on, scream—the louder the better!" Quirrell thought with relish; those shouts turned into enchanting music in his ears, making an involuntary smile of delight appear on his face, utterly at odds with the gravity on the faces of the professors beside him.
Dumbledore frowned slightly and raised his wand, steering the fire dragons to howl up towards the ceiling, but still unable to make them vanish.
"Duncan, sh-should we hide as well?" Neville said, trembling; taking in the chaotic scene before him, he pressed close to Duncan in a hurry, as though that could make him a bit safer.
Hannah and Ellie had the same thought; they likewise stuck to Duncan without leaving his side.
"What are you panicking for? The professors are still sitting on the dais. This might be a Hallowe'en programme they've prepared to give everyone a bit of a surprise. Look how happily Professor Quirrell is smiling—he must have had a hand in this," Duncan said, deliberately raising his voice.
Some of the students nearby heard Duncan's words; while dodging, they turned their eyes to the dais and indeed saw a smile on Quirrell's face.
Their mood relaxed inexplicably by quite a bit, and suddenly those bats swooping at them over and over did not seem so frightening.
Fred and George even treated it as a game with grins, starting to compete with others over who could catch more bats.
Spurred on by the two of them, the atmosphere in the Great Hall shifted again, as if it had become a real-life online game's monster-farming scene.
Just like in a game, from time to time someone would complain aloud that another had snatched his wild monster, spreading out to keep their distance from others.
Even the first-years who had been too frightened to know what to do came to their senses, pulled out their wands, and tried the spells they had learned.
"Professor Quirrell, are these really surprises you prepared for the students?" Seeing the order in the Great Hall gradually return, Professor McGonagall let out a small breath and looked at Quirrell sternly, lips pressed together.
"O-of course not..." Quirrell hastily put away the smile on his face and hurried to deny it.
The students might not recognise it, but the professors were not blind; although the bats were feeble, the magic contained in those few fire dragons was aimed at killing.
If not for Dumbledore's obstruction, the Great Hall would probably already have been strewn with casualties.
"Then who on earth did this? I will absolutely investigate this thoroughly and find the culprit!" Professor McGonagall said.
At this moment Dumbledore finally worked out the principle of those fire dragons; he murmured two spells, his wand whirled rapidly several times in the air, and with a few bangs the fire dragons shattered with a roar, turning into a sky full of shooting stars that drifted down from mid-air.
"That's really beautiful..." Ellie's eyes reflected the lovely sight, as if she were lost in it.
The Great Hall fell quiet for a moment as well; only when the falling sparks had completely gone out did everyone resume dealing with the bats.
"Minerva, I have something I need to attend to. Stay here for a while, and once the students have had their fun, send them back," Dumbledore said, glancing at Quirrell, then stepping quickly down from the dais and leaving the Great Hall.
"All right, go and see to it," Professor McGonagall said with a solemn nod.
Quirrell, at the side, quietly let out a breath of relief; once again he had witnessed Dumbledore's power.
Lord Voldemort had told him that those fire dragons could at least entangle three professors, buying a great deal of time for their operation.
But he had not expected that Dumbledore alone would dispatch them with ease...
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