"What did he just say?"
Hearing Malfoy's murmur, Crabbe and Goyle exchanged confused glances.
"Thank you."
"No need."
After the two lackeys repeated and emphasized it, Malfoy's already pale face turned even whiter, then flushed an angry red.
"How dare he!"
Malfoy was furious. He and his father had discussed Leo recently. A few days ago, his father had sent a letter explicitly stating that Leonard was a wizard from a Muggle family. But his father also instructed him to try befriending Leonard—someone with such talent and ability still deserved the Malfoy family's appreciation and friendship.
Malfoy's face alternated between red and white. He'd clearly lowered himself and clearly extended an olive branch to Leonard Grafton!
"Does he know whose friendship he's refusing? He's refusing a Malfoy's friendship! Leonard Grafton is just Muggle-born, just a—"
Just as Malfoy's anger was about to explode into words, a voice sounded behind him.
"Draco, what did you just say about Leo's background?"
Turning sharply, Malfoy's expression remained thunderous. "Daphne? When did you get here?"
Inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office, Quirrell stammered, "Gr-Grafton, let's begin. T-today we'll discuss..."
"Professor, I remember you said last time that you get nervous around crowds but speak smoothly when there are fewer people?"
Leo's "kind" reminder made Quirrell fall silent for several seconds.
"Ahaha, force of habit. Grafton, you're right."
Hearing Quirrell's fluent tone, Leo knew—this time it wasn't Tom controlling things. That one was probably still recovering. Except for necessary situations, he generally wouldn't manifest and waste power.
Actually, Quirrell could speak perfectly well—the stuttering was just an act.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts is the method for combating dangerous Dark wizards. In wizard combat, you must first understand various spells' effects and countermeasures, while knowledge of Transfiguration, Potions, and even Herbology can play vital roles... No matter what opponent you face, the most important thing is rhythm—dragging the opponent into your advantageous tempo..."
Quirrell's explanation satisfied Leo greatly, even pleasantly surprising him. After all, he was an outstanding Ravenclaw graduate who could remain as a Hogwarts professor. His professional expertise had real substance—theoretical knowledge was extraordinarily solid.
This explanation was excellent. Although still theoretical, it was obviously superior to mechanically reciting from textbooks in class. Much detailed knowledge was broken down and supplemented appropriately.
"A very representative defensive spell—Expelliarmus. It can force an opponent's wand or weapon to lose control. The key point is pronunciation—note that the 'p' should be pronounced as a plosive..."
Harry's signature spell. Disarming to interrupt the opponent's rhythm and achieve suppression. Indeed, this spell's effectiveness was strongly tied to magical power intensity. Skill wasn't the main factor—powerful conviction and abundant magical reserves were what mattered.
Perhaps this spell was quite suited to him too. Leo's magical talent was SS rank—in terms of magical power growth speed and upper limit, both were exceptional. Wizards' magical power naturally increased with age. Even without learning advanced techniques, these spells would become increasingly devastating in his hands.
Listening to Quirrell's explanation, Leo's understanding deepened. No wonder in later years, even after Harry learned more spells, he still used Expelliarmus as his go-to. Simple and brutal, but effective.
However, just listening to theory wouldn't cut it.
Leo stood, slowly drawing his wand. This immediately put Quirrell on guard—he hadn't forgotten this kid's reckless magical display in the office last time.
"Professor, since this is practical combat guidance, we can't just talk without practice. How about we try Expelliarmus? I have some thoughts about your explanation that I'd like to test."
This suggestion was entirely normal, but it troubled Quirrell. Today was fine—a first-year wizard, no matter how many spells mastered, couldn't have tremendous magical reserves.
Quirrell wasn't afraid of practicing and competing in spells with a child. Rather, from next week onward, when he needed to cast the Imperius Curse variant, he'd need concentrated focus. If he used other magic, it would easily disrupt the delicate process.
Quirrell's hesitation made Leo's eyes narrow slightly. Something was definitely wrong.
Practicing magic with a young wizard wasn't difficult—so what was Quirrell hesitating about? Was there something that couldn't be interrupted?
"Professor, is there something inconvenient?"
Quirrell gritted his teeth. Whatever, today didn't matter. Starting next week, he'd just lecture on theory first, delaying until each curse was cast before accepting this kid's practical exercises.
Today he'd teach him a lesson first. Perhaps he could even traumatize Leo a bit, showing him the professor's power so he wouldn't dare be so presumptuous in the future.
"No problem."
Quirrell also drew his wand. He'd already decided—using about twenty to thirty percent power should do it. This wasn't something a first-year wizard could resist—more than enough to easily disarm Leo.
Quirrell waved his wand to clear desks and chairs, opening up the already spacious office even further.
Holding his wand to his chest, he said in a relaxed tone, "Wrist should flick lightly, but not too loose. The Disarming Charm will make the wand vibrate and throw off your aim, so you must be precise..."
Listening to Quirrell's explanation, Leo nodded. This confident teaching manner—he could clearly be an excellent teacher. What a waste.
"Key points are finished. Grafton, do you still remember what's most important in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
Before Leo could answer, Quirrell continued, "That's not giving your opponent the chance to strike first! Expelliarmus!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Almost simultaneously, two incantations rang out, followed immediately by two crimson bolts shooting forward.
The Disarming Charms extending from both wand tips collided violently in midair!
Damn it! Just as Quirrell was about to curse inwardly that Leo was a cunning brat, he discovered in shock that the point where the two spells collided was rapidly advancing toward himself!
What kind of joke is this? How could a kid like Leo have this much magical power?
Quirrell had no time to hesitate, instinctively pouring more magic into his spell. The collision point's movement only slowed but still steadily pushed toward him.
Wrong, this is all wrong. Quirrell knew he'd already used fifty percent power—how had he still not overpowered Leo's magic?
Moreover, looking at Leo's expression—completely calm, as if not exerting much effort at all.
What first-year wizard would have such enormous magical reserves! What kind of monster is this!
Leo noticed Quirrell had strengthened his output. Considering this was his first wizard duel and he'd never tested his magical limits before, there was no need to expose his full power. This was about enough.
Just as Leo prepared to twist his wand, he noticed the silver-black wand's surface suddenly manifesting numerous phantom runes.
This caught him completely off guard. Simultaneously, faint laughter echoed in his mind, though it didn't affect him much.
But Quirrell's expression changed drastically, veins instantly crawling across his forehead.
A cacophony of laughter—piercing shrieks, gentle chuckles, booming guffaws, sinister giggles, cheerful peals, and mocking sneers—exploded in Quirrell's mind all at once.
"Hahahahahahahahahahaha..."