As they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, a strong, unidentified stench of garlic filled the room. Most of the Slytherins came from magical families and had never seen anything like it before, so they immediately became depressed.
When Professor Quirrell came down the stairs and entered the classroom, an even stronger smell of garlic hit Ethan Jones, making him regret that he had sat in the front row just to watch something funny.
He pinched his nose with disgust and fanned his face. He had finally gotten used to the strange smell in the classroom, but then something even worse came.
"Hello everyone, I, I am Professor Quirrell, negative negative, responsible for teaching you all, black, black, Defense Against the Dark Arts." His stammering words were even more unbearable than Professor Binns's empty words.
Ethan Jones listened to his self-introduction with a frown.
"Okay, let's start taking attendance."
As Quirrell stammered as he called out each person's name, his brow furrowed even deeper.
After finally finishing taking attendance, at Draco's prompting, Goyle suddenly stood up and asked loudly, "Professor Quirrell, why does the classroom smell like garlic? Also, why are you always wearing a turban? Is there a story behind it?"
Ethan Jones couldn't help but glance back at him: "Wow, that's a brave young man!"
"This, this classmate, please sit down. I, I was out, doing practical work, and during my work, I encountered a Vampire."
"That's why I used garlic to drive them away."
Ethan Jones glared at Goyle, who had subjected him to another mental attack.
Regarding the turban, Professor Quirrell explained that it was a gift from an African prince he had saved, given as a token of gratitude for getting rid of the resurrected Zombie.
However, he could not explain how he did it, which inevitably raised suspicions that Quirrell was lying to improve his image.
After explaining, Professor Quirrell finally shut up, which relieved everyone.
Surprisingly, Professor Quirrell, who speaks with a stutter, has excellent handwriting on the blackboard.
He held a wand and waved it in the air, and lines of text took shape on the blackboard.
The handwriting, like Professor Quirrell's appearance, was slender and delicate.
But the moment he opened his mouth, he shattered that good impression.
But Ethan Jones also had to endure the pain of recording what he said, things that were not written in the textbooks.
As Quirrell wrote on the blackboard behind their backs, Ethan Jones vaguely thought he saw something glittering behind his turban, but when he looked closely, he found nothing unusual.
"Am I seeing things? Or am I hallucinating because I know Voldemort is there?" He didn't know.
Quirrell quickly finished writing on the blackboard and then began his lecture to them.
As he turned his back again, Ethan Jones, bored, propped his chin up with his hand, looking at the back of his head, which was completely covered by a turban, and began to think.
"Voldemort's face is on the back of Quirrell's head, which is why Quirrell is bald in the movie. Otherwise, it would be strange if his hair grew in the middle of his two heads."
Also, with faces on both sides of his head, how does he sleep? Can he only lie on his side?
"If Voldemort's face were buried in the pillow, Quirrell probably wouldn't be alive now, but if Quirrell's face were buried in the pillow, Quirrell might suffocate."
Therefore, the most reasonable explanation is that Quirrell can only sleep on his side, which is the most comfortable sleeping position for someone with two faces. Furthermore, he can't move around too much, otherwise one of his faces will be buried in the pillow.
"And it's pitiful that Voldemort's face has to constantly smell of garlic." He shook his head, looking at Quirrell and the turban behind his head with pity.
Professor Quirrell, who was completely preoccupied with his own lecture, did not notice the unusual expression on the student's face.
After finally getting through the class, both the teacher and the student breathed a sigh of relief.
The Slytherins hurriedly packed up their things and rushed out of the classroom to breathe some fresh air.
Quirrell breathed a sigh of relief, having safely passed another class without anyone discovering his secret.
In the empty classroom, a deep voice came through a thick turban:
"Quirrell, pay attention to the child who was sitting in the front just now. He is a natural-born Occlumens. I can't see through his thoughts, but he suddenly showed you some pity just now. I caught that."
"Pity?" Quirrell was taken aback.
"The boy at the very front, let me think, his name is Ethan, yes, that's his name, a very handsome boy, who should be very attractive to girls." He recalled the seating arrangement in class.
"Observe him carefully; he might be able to be used by me. He is a natural Occlumens, and with simple training, he can be of great use."
"Yes, Master." Quirrell stopped stammering and bowed his head respectfully, indicating his obedience.
Even though there was only one person, two different voices were floating around, which was very strange and inexplicable. Fortunately, no one saw it, otherwise who knows what kind of terrifying legends might have been created.
He packed up his teaching materials and went up the stairs to his office on the third floor. Only there, when no one was around to disturb him, could he briefly shed his pretense and be his true self.
It was lunchtime, and many people were heading to the Great Hall. The Gryffindor section was almost full, and Ethan Jones simply greeted Hermione before eating at the Slytherin table once again.
As Ethan Jones sliced a chicken leg, he casually remarked to Draco, "Don't let them ask Professor Quirrell any more questions next time. Their stammering answers are too torturous."
When he looked back at Goyle, he thought it was really Goyle who wanted to ask the question, but then he realized that wasn't right. With Goyle's brain, how could he possibly think of asking such a question? It must have been Draco next to him who encouraged him.
"I know, I regret letting Goyle ask the questions, it's practically a punishment!" Malfoy said, forcefully cutting a piece of lamb chop.
As for the two bodyguards, they were busy eating and drinking nearby and had no time to pay attention to the conversation between the two.
"You don't need to wait for me. I'll go back to my dorm by myself in a bit." After finishing the last of his ice cream, Ethan Jones gave this instruction and headed towards the Gryffindor table.
"Why do you smell like garlic?" Hermione sniffed the air.
Ethan Jones was also a little annoyed: "Hey, don't even mention it. I just had a Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and the classroom was practically a giant garlic-making workshop."
"I'll go back to my dorm to shower and change in a bit. I came here to ask if you want to write a letter home, and I'll have Edward take it back with me."
He was in a bit of a rush in the morning and didn't have time to mail a letter from the Owlery in the castle tower.
"Sure, when do you plan to mail the letter? I have a History of Magic class at 3 p.m.
"Do you think two o'clock is enough time? I also have a Transfiguration class at three o'clock, which will be just in time to finish mailing the letters and go to class."
"Okay, I'll go to my dorm and write right away. See you at the Owlery at 2 o'clock."
Ethan Jones returned to his dorm, washed up, and made sure he no longer smelled of garlic. He finally felt better and, while he still had some time, sat by the window in the common room and stared at the Black Lake for a while.