Chapter 64: Poor Professor Quirrell
Many students had seen Pansy storming out of the second-floor corridor. Some claimed she had insulted Professor Quirrell's turban so badly that she'd earned detention, while others insisted she was protesting against Anthony, who seemed to be deducting Slytherin points again.
"Has anyone combined the two rumors?" Anthony wondered aloud, spreading butter on his toast. "Something like, 'Because Parkinson mocked Professor Quirrell's turban, Anthony took points and gave her detention'?"
Professor Sprout, ever the gossip, enthusiastically filled him in on the students' speculations over breakfast. Some were wondering why Pansy had been alone on the second floor instead of lurking near Malfoy, her usual companion.
"Parkinson mocked Professor Quirrell's turban?" Sprout repeated in surprise.
"No - probably not, I don't know," Anthony said. "I'm just suggesting that maybe this rumor is closer to the truth than the other two. You know I was the one who gave the detention, so why is everyone blaming Professor Quirrell?"
"Because neither of you has ever given a student detention before," Professor Flitwick chimed in, balancing on a chair to spear a sausage. "My guess is you, Professor Anthony, but you're known for taking points, not giving detentions."
Professor Sprout added, "The rumors are flying. Some even say she went to visit Moaning Myrtle, but Myrtle wasn't receptive, so Pansy got angry." She chuckled indulgently. "It's the start of term, there's not much homework yet, so every little thing is news to the students."
"Speaking of which," Anthony said, "isn't the Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor Quidditch match the day after tomorrow?"
Professor Sprout nodded. "Yes, will you be attending, Anthony?"
"I try to go whenever I'm free," Anthony replied.
After the last match, he'd practiced his Levitation Charm extensively, even experimenting with a Transfiguration spell to turn any object into a mattress. He'd also discovered a very old Quidditch rule that allowed him, as an unbiased adult spectator, to forcibly insert the whistle into Madam Hooch's mouth during an emergency. This meant he might end up at a Quidditch Tribunal with the referee afterward, but... the Tribunal had been dissolved.
To maintain his "unbiased spectator" status, he would sit with neither Hufflepuff nor Gryffindor this time. Given the mixed feelings the other two houses had towards him, he'd accepted Professor Flitwick's invitation to sit with the Ravenclaws. Anthony was looking forward to it, hoping they could offer a clearer explanation of the game than Hagrid had.
.....
As Anthony left his office, notebook in hand, he happened to bump into Professor Quirrell exiting the neighboring office.
"Professor An-Anthony," Quirrell stuttered with a nervous smile. "Are you headed to the li-library again?"
Anthony nodded. "Yes, I need to do some research. How about you, Professor Quirrell?"
Quirrell hesitated. "I'm going to the li-library as well."
Anthony walked alongside Professor Quirrell, noting the ever-present smell of garlic that seemed to emanate from him, as per student rumors.
Madam Pince greeted them at the entrance, and the two professors went their separate ways. Anthony initially intended to research how to transform wraiths into corporeal beings, but he realized he'd already read every Dark Arts book in the library on necromancy and wraiths.
If he hadn't been avoiding Dumbledore lately, Anthony might have gone straight to the Headmaster's office for advice. After all, transforming a wraith into a physical entity was essentially a perfect resurrection, at least in appearance.
He sighed and decided to check the magical creatures section instead. If anyone was willing to sleep next to a slumbering basilisk, it wouldn't be him.
Then, he caught a whiff of Professor Quirrell again.
Quirrell was still standing among the shelves of magical creature books, trembling and muttering to himself: "No - I can't find it - no, no - I can't go on like this -" He let out a sob of despair.
Anthony was about to leave, wanting to give the man some privacy, but Professor Quirrell had already spotted him. He straightened up, wiping away tears, and forced a shaky smile. "Professor An-Anthony, what-what are you looking for?"
Anthony, pretending not to notice the sweat beading on Quirrell's turban, made an excuse. "I'm looking for... well, 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,' but it doesn't seem to be here. I'll check the general section."
He turned to leave.
Quirrell's lips trembled and twisted. "I - I borrowed it -" he said with a weak smile. "But - I can give it to you -"
Anthony was surprised. "You have it? Madam Pince said there's no record of it being checked out."
Quirrell shuddered, then nodded. "She - she wasn't - at the desk at the time."
Anthony couldn't bring himself to ask any further questions. Quirrell looked on the verge of collapse.
"Let me walk back to your office with you, Professor Quirrell," Anthony offered. "Do you need me to fetch you a potion from Madam Pomfrey?"
Quirrell shook his head silently, hunching over as he slowly walked out of the library with Anthony. Anthony couldn't help but say, "Get some rest, Professor Quirrell."
...
Anthony stepped into his neighbor's office for the first time.
It was indeed filled with garlic, as the students claimed, but what they hadn't mentioned was that it was also overflowing with books and Dark Arts paraphernalia. Bookshelves lined three walls, with stacks of books piled on the floor where they wouldn't fit. The desk was littered with parchment, covered in sketches of incomprehensible spell diagrams in black ink and shaky, illegible marginal notes.
Quirrell waved his wand, and a bookshelf swung open, revealing a bedroom behind it. He led Anthony inside - the bedroom was almost a mirror image of the office, minus the garlic and with a bed tucked in the corner. Bookshelves lined three walls here as well. Even without seeing the titles, Anthony could sense their value and danger from their bindings and the atmosphere, which reminded him of the Restricted Section.
Anthony suspected that Quirrell's perpetually worn clothes and unchanged turban were due to him spending all his money on books and magical research.
"I-I'll look for it," Quirrell said, gesturing for Anthony to sit at the desk. He seemed much more at ease in his familiar surroundings.
"Of course, thank you, Professor Quirrell," Anthony said, casually glancing at the books scattered on the desk.
One was a large illustration, depicting a beautiful unicorn rendered in delicate brushstrokes. Anthony smiled and looked at the title in the corner of the page: "Under the Influence of Magic."
.....
Quirrell: Stealing a book isn't really stealing... is it? Stealing a book! ... Can a scholar's actions be considered stealing?
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