Watching Padma walk away, Leonard paused to think, a silver vortex flickering to life in his eyes. Everything around him shifted from physical matter to pure magical essence, revealing the flow of Padma's magic. Around her brain, faint strands of eerie green energy twisted like threads.
"So this is what the Imperius Curse looks like on the magical level? I wonder if magical vision can interact with it."
Curiosity tugged at him, but now wasn't the time to dwell on Padma. Leonard had already confirmed Quirrell's goal—he was clearly after information about the Unicorn.
"He'll probably try the Imperius Curse on me too. The Ancient Sprout's protection should handle it, but I can't let Voldemort notice anything."
He took a moment to focus, communicating silently with the Ancient Sprout. After gaining the talent for Secondary Trait Enhancement, Leonard had reinforced the Ancient Sprout as well. Its Magical Sight, physical enhancement, Magic Defense, and ancient spell power had all grown stronger, and its intellect had improved too. Now, aside from being unable to speak, the Ancient Sprout's intelligence was about on par with a ten-year-old child.
With that level of understanding, he could instruct it to defend certain spells according to his commands instead of acting purely on instinct. This way, it wouldn't accidentally rebound Quirrell's Imperius Curse and seize control of him.
...
Inside Quirrell's office, the man paced back and forth, visibly agitated. Calling a student to one's office was perfectly normal for a professor, but Quirrell's guilty conscience kept conjuring thoughts of his schemes being exposed. His nerves simply wouldn't settle.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Professor Quirrell, are you there?" a cheerful, childlike voice called.
"Ah—just a moment!" Quirrell jumped at the sound, then quickly realized it must be the person he was waiting for.
He straightened his expression into something friendly, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and hurried to the door. As much as he wanted to cast an Imperius Curse the instant he opened it, he couldn't risk someone passing by or Leonard William bringing another student with him. He had to let the boy in first.
The door opened. Quirrell looked down at the bright-smiling, clear-featured boy and kept his pleasant façade.
"Hello, Mr. William."
"Hello, Professor Quirrell."
Leonard quietly stepped back, holding his breath. It took all his willpower not to cover his nose outright. Quirrell smelled so awful that Leonard felt he might ascend to heaven on the spot. Previously, the odor had been likened to a spoiled meat patty soaked in spices. Now it was worse—far worse. He smelled like a can of herring marinated in Indian masala, the kind of stench that clawed at the throat.
Faced with this walking pollutant, Leonard slowed his breathing, doing everything he could not to gag.
"Is there something you need, Professor Quirrell?" Leonard asked through clenched teeth.
Damn it. He really should've killed this environmental disaster when he had the chance. Leonard bitterly regretted coming here on his own. He already knew the stench was going to torture him for a long time.
"Ah, there's something I need your help with, Mr. William. Please, come inside."
Quirrell noticed Leonard step back. Accustomed to his own smell, he thought the boy had been frightened and quickly softened his voice so as not to scare him off.
Hearing Quirrell speak in that deliberately gentle tone nearly broke Leonard's concentration. A shiver ran down his spine. Disgusting. Even worse than that humanoid Acromantula.
Enduring both psychological and physical torment, Leonard repeated to himself, "Voldemort is still out there," and "Quirrell is still useful," just to stop himself from obliterating the man with an ancient spell on the spot.
"Yes, Professor."
Leonard's teeth ground together. He stared into Quirrell's eyes, fighting down his irritation. A sudden curiosity rose—what was Quirrell really thinking behind that pleasant mask? A vicious curse? Nervous dread? Or just simple jealousy of someone who still had freedom and a heartbeat?
Too bad Leonard hadn't learned Legilimency. He had no way of knowing, which made him seriously consider learning it someday. A spell that let you see someone's thoughts just by looking into their eyes—now that sounded entertaining.
But that was for later. Right now, Quirrell came first.
Quirrell stepped aside to let him in, then quietly closed the door. Hearing the door click shut behind him, Leonard nearly snapped again. The smell was already unbearable—why wouldn't the man at least open a window?
"Mr. William..."
Quirrell finally relaxed after shutting the door and called out softly. He lifted his wand, crept behind Leonard, and aimed it before the boy could turn around.
"Imperio!"
A flash of green light burst forth. Leonard turned, his expression blank. But behind that vacant look, he was pinching the Ancient Sprout at his sleeve to stop it from counterattacking.
Thankfully, the Ancient Sprout obeyed and held still, allowing Leonard to breathe a quiet sigh of relief. He wasn't afraid of Quirrell. With the Ancient Sprout's protection, most spells couldn't even touch him. Quirrell was no threat at all.
His only concern was that the Ancient Sprout might accidentally push too hard and rebound the Imperius Curse, taking control of Quirrell instead. That would be embarrassing. Imagine seizing Voldemort's subordinate right in front of him—talk about bold.
Seeing Leonard's blank stare, Quirrell relaxed. With a trembling voice full of barely restrained excitement, he asked:
"You saw Unicorns in the Forbidden Forest?"
"Yes."
Leonard's empty gaze seemed to come alive again, exactly as the Imperius Curse normally behaved. The Imperius Curse was an Unforgivable Curse—undetectable and seamless. If victims acted obviously dazed while speaking to the caster, it wouldn't be very covert, would it?
"Then do you know their exact location?"
Once he received the confirmation, Quirrell's face twisted into a grotesque grin as he lunged toward Leonard. The wave of stench that hit Leonard almost ruined his act. Only sheer willpower kept him from vomiting.
...
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