"Mmm..."
In the morning, the moist sensation on his face woke Evans from his sleep.
Slowly opening his eyes, a silver-white little head appeared in his vision. Seeing Evans awake, the little unicorn let out a joyful neigh, nuzzled Evans, then ran to the side and used its horn to poke Nana, who was still sleeping in.
"Morning, Kelly."
Yawning as he sat up in bed, Evans looked at Nana nearby, who had obviously been poked awake but still refused to open her eyes, her face written with suffering. He couldn't help but laugh.
After the incident a few days ago, Evans hadn't let Kelly return to the red pine forest, but had her stay in the magical creatures hut instead.
On one hand, Kelly's injuries weren't completely healed yet. On the other hand, he didn't quite dare let this little unicorn go back. The hut was big enough anyway to house a juvenile unicorn. And unicorns weren't dangerous creatures, even if she wandered around the grounds, she wouldn't scare any young wizards.
After changing clothes, preparing food for his little companions, and mixing half a basin of worms for Little Cloak, Evans left the hut and headed for the Great Hall.
Ugh, painful Wednesday, painful morning classes.
The Great Hall wasn't very crowded in the morning. After all, not every young wizard had eight o'clock classes, and not every professor needed to teach early morning classes.
After Christmas, all the Christmas decorations in the Great Hall had been removed and replaced with Slytherin's silver-green decorations.
This was the glory of the House Cup champions, but after looking at it for so long, it still felt somewhat tedious.
After all, since his third year, these decorations hadn't changed.
Sitting at the staff table, Evans was selecting what to eat for breakfast with one hand on the menu while continuously gesturing with his wand in the air with the other.
These past few days, thanks to Dumbledore, his research on Swooping Evil teleportation magic had made great progress.
It's just that Portkey transportation was still somewhat different from Swooping Evil teleportation. This last bit of difference still required him to slowly explore and gradually clarify his thoughts.
This was the difficulty of creating new magic. Even with many references, if you were off by just a little bit, the magic wouldn't work.
"Hmm?"
His gaze shifted, and Evans saw three young wizards sitting at the Gryffindor table with heavy hearts. Their lips kept moving, as if they were plotting something.
Just as he was curious about what the three young wizards were discussing, a cold aura came from nearby, and the chair one seat away from him was pulled out.
Turning to look, Evans's eyes immediately lit up.
He had just heard an interesting story yesterday and was worried about having no one to share it with. He hadn't expected to run into the person involved.
Taking his plate and moving over one seat, Evans spoke in a concerned tone without any teasing.
"My dear Head of House, I heard you submitted an application half a month ago to referee some Quidditch match?"
Glancing at Evans sideways, Snape's already poor mood darkened further, and he spoke in a cold, mocking voice.
"What? Does someone who never rides a broomstick want to participate and try?"
"I think, with your flying skills, even if we made an exception to squeeze you in, it wouldn't have any impact."
"Pick one. Do you want to go to Gryffindor or Hufflepuff?"
"No, no, no, it's just that I remember you're not very good at riding flying broomsticks either. Over thirty and suddenly wanting to try young people's sports?"
Putting down his knife and fork, Snape's icy gaze turned toward Evans, his expression terrifyingly dark.
"The reason I'm going to referee, don't you know?"
Got him! He's agitated!
Hearing this, even though he forcibly suppressed his expression, the corners of Evans's mouth still curved up slightly.
The target had already disappeared, but because the application was already submitted, he could only endure the nausea and go referee. His dear Head of House must feel as uncomfortable as if he'd eaten something disgusting right now.
But he also knew that if this topic continued, Snape would probably explode.
Temperature control was something he was very skilled at.
Stopping at just the right point, Evans smoothly changed the subject to discuss some potion-related matters.
The materials he'd given Snape for Christmas seemed to have really given him some inspiration.
"About that potion, did you find the information? If you're missing any materials, I should be able to help you find them. Just put my name on the paper when you publish it."
Swallowing the fried egg in his mouth and glancing at Snape at the staff table, Ron shrank his neck and spoke in a weak voice.
"Are you sure you want to act after Potions class ends? I think it would be better to wait until evening to find an opportunity to go in."
"And then squat outside Snape's door for six hours like we did a few days ago?" Hermione immediately rejected Ron's suggestion.
"My dark circles still haven't gone away!"
Harry beside them also shook his head. "Besides, that way we might be locked in the classroom all night. The longer we stay, the easier it is to be discovered."
Hearing Harry's words, Ron collapsed on the table with a look of despair.
"Why do all the staff office doors have Anti-Alohomora Charms?"
"What else? Without Anti-Alohomora Charms, wouldn't any first-year student be able to open the professors' office doors at will?"
Ignoring the two who had started arguing again, Harry looked around the Great Hall, his eyes showing some confusion.
"Speaking of which, don't we have Defense Against the Dark Arts class today? Quirrell still hasn't come back?"
Near the end of Christmas break, Harry had noticed that Quirrell was nowhere to be seen at school.
At first, he thought Quirrell had temporarily left school for some reason, but he still hadn't returned even today?
Had he been expelled? If so, that would be great. He had no good feelings toward Quirrell. His Defense Against the Dark Arts class was even more boring than History of Magic.
But the conversation he'd overheard that day still bothered Harry.
Had Quirrell really been expelled?
And what Ron said next made Harry's eyes fill with some fear.
"I remember Snape's attitude toward Quirrell before the break didn't seem very good."
"Do you think Quirrell might have already been killed by Snape..."
With a terrified expression, Ron made a throat-slitting gesture across his neck.
The three young wizards immediately fell silent, unable to even eat the food on their plates.
They carefully looked up at Snape sitting at the staff table, and when they found his gaze looking over, they all simultaneously ducked their heads.
After a long while, Hermione slammed the table, then realized they were plotting and leaned down to speak quietly.
"No, we can't go on like this!"
"Like we said before, after Potions class today, Harry, you find a way to keep Snape busy at his office door while Ron and I sneak in to see if we can find any clues!"
"At least we need to know what that book he borrowed from the Restricted Section was!"
"And if Quirrell really has been killed by Snape, we need to find evidence that he murdered Quirrell!"
[Chapter Complete]
***
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