Inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office, Quirrell lay prostrate on the floor, his face deathly pale, large beads of cold sweat dripping steadily.
"Please forgive my stupidity and weakness, my great master."
Quirrell's painful, hoarse voice was barely audible.
A cold voice echoed in his mind while bringing searing pain. "That's magic I perfected myself! I don't expect an idiot like you to learn it quickly. I'll give you one more week. Otherwise, I don't mind forcing this magic directly into your brain!"
Quirrell trembled and nodded frantically. "Yes, yes, my master."
The Dark Magic Voldemort taught was a curse that slowly corroded the soul, thereby controlling the target's thoughts. This curse was exceptionally well-concealed—unless carefully examined within an hour of being cast, the traces would gradually vanish.
In exchange, the incubation period was longer. The maximum usage interval couldn't exceed ten days—perfect for use on that damned, audacious brat during weekly tutoring.
But this Dark Magic was brutally difficult to learn, and the process was excruciating—like stirring one's own brain, tearing at one's throat and tongue.
Sensing Quirrell's deep fear, Voldemort, parasitic within his host's body, felt both disdain and satisfaction. He didn't currently have the power to spare for such empty threats, but his prestige and terror remained formidable and unquestionable!
Voldemort also realized his life force was still draining. In another two or three months he'd need replenishment and also need to restore his strength. Perhaps the unicorns in the Forbidden Forest...
Inside the small wooden house, Leo closed the book in his hands.
Honestly, the system's response made him want to laugh but also feel slightly relieved. At least it was clear that his "resistance" to Dark Magic was extraordinarily high. As long as he didn't use it at insane frequencies and didn't touch extremely dangerous Dark Magic, then the effects on him would be minimal and not irreversible.
Dark Magic was also a type of knowledge. Since it could be learned and mastered, Leo wouldn't deliberately reject it or develop an irrational fear of it. Of course, he also couldn't truly become addicted to that power.
Knowledge, ultimately, was meant to serve people.
"Master, I'm back!"
The little Qilin's form instantly appeared before Leo.
"Inside is Mr. Newt's reply letter and a small container."
Small container? Leo had some guesses. Opening the satchel, he retrieved the envelope and a purple vessel.
Purple salt crystal—a substance used to preserve Erumpent explosive fluid.
Leo gently placed the container on the ground and read Newt's reply. Providing elements for plant growth wasn't particularly difficult—some combination of Charms and Alchemy, plus using certain potions.
Seeing Newt's corrections about the magical creature information, Leo read carefully. This was personally taught knowledge from the world's greatest magical creature expert—Leo couldn't possibly ignore it.
Leo also noticed that Newt asked which house he belonged to, so he planned to mention it in his next letter. However, this mentor seemed somewhat hopeful he was a little Hufflepuff badger.
At the letter's end, Newt detailed the Erumpent explosive fluid's characteristics, storage requirements, and precautions when using it. Leo carefully and thoroughly memorized this information.
Erumpent explosive fluid was devastatingly powerful—it could easily blast and corrode most materials. Human bodies were naturally no exception. Leo didn't hope to be blown into scattered pieces, then licked back to life by Aurelius.
"Oh right, Master, when leaving, Mr. Newt asked me what magical creature I am."
"After you answered, what did he say?"
Aurelius tilted its head thoughtfully. "Well, Mr. Newt seemed very shocked at first, repeatedly saying things like, 'Qilins are like this?' and 'Even mutated species couldn't...' Then he very solemnly told me to relay to you: Absolutely don't easily reveal my existence, even though my appearance differs greatly from other Qilins. He also said he'd help keep the secret and wouldn't leak my situation."
Hearing Aurelius's report, Leo nodded. Newt was indieed exceptionally trustworthy, and hs warnings were entirely reasonable.
If Aurelius's abilities were really as "modest" as those native Qilins... This world's Qilins, just looking at appearance, were actually more like strangely shaped deer.
Their abilities, simply put, were "distinguishing virtue from wickedness"—the ability to sense soul purity, thereby selecting the worthy and capable to become leaders of the magical world.
As for abilities like Aurelius's cloud-treading, purifying fire, Apparition and other divine and powerful talents—native Qilins possessed none of these.
In Leo's view, those native Qilins' self-preservation abilities were genuinely concerning. Because of their special perception talent, they were targeted by wizards of both light and dark paths, yet didn't even have adequate ability to protect their own safety.
"I'll thank Mr. Newt in my letter. Remember to thank him next time you visit too. Did he say anything else?"
"It seems, at the very end, Mr. Newt said very quietly, 'Should I find an opportunity to visit Hogwarts?'"
These words made Leo raise an eyebrow, a smile emerging. Was he uneasy about Aurelius's existence and wanted to talk face-to-face, or had he deduced there were extensive Acromantula colonies in the Forbidden Forest around the school and planned to investigate...?
If Hogwarts students knew that the famous Newt Scamander would visit, wouldn't they go absolutely wild?
"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" was Hogwarts-designated coursework—every young wizard had read it. But unlike other textbooks, the book Newt wrote vividly showcased various magical creatures' fascinating aspects, introducing countless young wizards to a wonder-filled world.
Whether the book or its author, their popularity among wizards was extraordinary!
Though according to Uncle Newt's socially anxious nature, he probably wouldn't easily appear before so many people.
Taking out a normal pocket watch—the kind that actually told time—Leo checked and felt he could prepare to head to Defense Against the Dark Arts tutoring.
Dingding Dingding Dingding
After the dismissal bell rang, Leo left the classroom, heading toward Quirrell's office. He reviewed the knowledge points from "Identification of Dark Magic" mentally again.
He also planned that after the tutoring session, he'd visit Headmaster Dumbledore for afternoon tea. Chat about some learning matters, make small talk—but mainly have old Dumbledore help examine him, adding another layer of protection against Dark Magic curses.
"Ahem, Leo, can I have a word with you?"
Hearing someone call out, Leo looked back—it was Malfoy and his two followers. They'd just had that class together with Slytherin.
"What is it?"
Malfoy raised the corner of his mouth, revealing what he considered an appropriate smile. "Leo, although you're Muggle-born, you're still quite excellent. I think you're qualified to receive the Malfoy family's friendship."
After speaking, Malfoy even extended his palm, seemingly waiting for Leo to excitedly shake his hand.
Leo looked calmly at Malfoy, a trace of concern flashing in his eyes.
What nonsense is this child saying? Had Harry's previous attack scrambled his brain from the fall?
Medical treatment came too late.
"Thank you, no need."
Malfoy seemed not to have heard clearly when Leo casually turned and left, abandoning a small hand suspended awkwardly in the air.