Hogwarts: Proficiency Panel Chapter 230 - 231: The Stars

The entrance to the Hospital Wing was overflowing with young wizards. Unable to withstand the pressure, the doors creaked open.

Madam Pomfrey's face was not pleasant.

"Seven tis in three days—do you think this is the Great Hall at alti?!"

Madam Pomfrey was, of course, a kind witch, but she was also undeniably strict.

The young wizards shivered. Having already trespassed, they decided to brace themselves and speak up:

"We heard that Harry... and Professor Quirrell are awake."

"Of course they are. If I were disturbed seven tis in three days, I'd wake up quickly too—" Madam Pomfrey's words were tinged with irritation.

In the end, it was Headmaster Dumbledore who called Sean and the others inside. The Headmaster was still speaking with Harry. They saw Harry wearing that peculiar, dazed expression—the sa look he had when he learned Professor Snape wasn't Voldemort's servant, and that Voldemort was actually in the Forbidden Forest.

"Harry—"

Ron and Hermione called out, their voices trembling, as the group gathered around Harry's bedside. Headmaster Dumbledore made way for them, casting a aningful glance at Sean before leaving the ward.

While the others fussed over Harry, Sean turned his head to look at Professor Quirrell on another bed.

His face was pale, his lips bloodless. When he noticed Sean's gaze, he struggled, attempting to sit up.

"Are you alright, Professor?"

Sean walked over quickly.

"Of course, of course, Mr. Green. I haven't been this well in a year..."

Professor Quirrell's voice did not stutter.

"Out—!"

Madam Pomfrey returned to shoo them away, and Sean and the others were quickly ushered out of the Hospital Wing.

The corridor was noisy, a stark contrast to the quiet, pristine ward. After asking about Harry's condition, the young wizards breathed a sigh of relief and returned to the Room of Hope.

The sky gradually darkened. A black cat quietly slipped into the ward.

"Professor Quirrell."

In the evening, a young wizard dressed in black robes appeared beside the curtained bed in the private ward.

Sean hesitated, unsure how to present the matter to the Professor, so he cast a Muffliato charm as a precaution. Turning his head, he saw Professor Quirrell looking sowhat dazed.

The Hospital Wing at night was bathed in blue. Moonlight spilled through the arched windows, illuminating the vases placed beside each bed.

Harry's bedside table was cluttered with bottles, jars, gift boxes, and sweets, while Professor Quirrell's had only a single book brought by Sean.

It was quiet here. The bustle of the day had ended, and the noisy Gryffindor student who had broken his wrist during Quidditch training was now sleeping peacefully.

"I believe I will be leaving Hogwarts soon. Would you... care to hear a story?"

Professor Quirrell suddenly asked in a small voice, his deanor extrely humble.

"I would be delighted," Sean said.

Professor Quirrell pressed his lips together tightly. Watching the moonlight fall upon the young wizard's face, he felt the urge—for the umpteenth ti—to bury his head and weep.

"You know, my student days were a tragedy of unfulfilled desires. Insecure and sensitive... that is when a person falls most easily into darkness. I achieved so success, but it didn't satisfy , nor did it fill the void of my ambition. Under the temptation of dark power, it is difficult to control oneself."

Professor Quirrell's voice carried a deep sense of struggle.

"Under such a master, the world is devoid of light. I deluded myself into thinking the Dark Lord would help achieve glory. But, sir, the truth is a cruel thing. So cruel that one would rather be numb than accept it."

He covered his face tightly with his hands. Sean didn't know if his pain stemd from the damage to his soul and life, or if his spirit had been torn open.

"Mr. Green, allow to describe the world as it was then. It was grey; devoid of any color. In that critical mont, I saw a star twinkling constantly. That star, nad Uranus, shone so abruptly under the moonlight that I seed to sense sothing.

"The colorful biscuits made realize the possibility of escaping such a world. I knew it was my one and only chance. But when I exhausted my courage to reach the door of the Headmaster's office... may you never know such despair.

"Despair is not the end; there is always so light in the world. The biscuit in the corner gave courage once again—Quirrell, such an insignificant, hateful, and pitiable wizard... how could anyone be willing to risk death to save such a person?

"So when I saw you, I suddenly realized I had made up my mind long ago. The mont I decided to die, I felt true liberation. Living in deceit, disguise, lies, fear, panic, and helplessness... Mr. Green, such days are not worth living compared to dying for you."

The Hospital Wing remained quiet. Sean was silent, even sowhat at a loss.

"This story should have ended in scorn and hatred—a wizard blinded by greed, cowardly and selfish, foolish to the extre... Now he has awakened. He knows that perhaps there is only one correct thing in this world, Mr. Green. That is to fight the darkness to the end, to move forward for your will."

Quirrell bowed his head deeply, placing his left hand over his heart. He knew what he was saying, and his body trembled uncontrollably.

There was no solemn oath in the Hospital Wing, only a buried resolve.

Sean stood in the moonlight, watching as the light passed through Professor Quirrell's body and cast a vague silhouette upon the floor.

After returning to the Room of Hope, Sean remained silent for an unknown amount of ti. It wasn't until the curfew bell rang that a photograph in his hand began to glow faintly.

It was a unique photo, originally a group shot taken by Justin in the Great Hall at Christmas. Now, however, it seed so strange magic had been added to it.

When other wizards looked at it, the photo appeared normal. But when Sean gazed at it, certain vibrant figures faded into monochro.

Headmaster Dumbledore's grey eyes remained kind; Professor Snape's grey robes still exuded imnse pressure.

Here and there, grey figures appeared. No one knew what this ant, nor did they know the purpose of the magic cast upon it.

Only Sean watched as Professor Quirrell's grey body suddenly regained its color. In the photo, the Professor transford into a squirrel and scampered out of the fra.

The squirrel ran around the Room of Hope, pausing first in front of the extinguished fireplace, then staring blankly at the strange photo.

Sean's gaze remained calm. As he pushed open the door, the green eyes in the enchanted mirror followed him like a shadow.

There were no dark clouds, no torrential rain beating against the window. Tonight, Jupiter and Uranus were exceptionally bright.

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