Ten mier, in the .

  "Hello, hello, hello students, please, please open, open your textbooks..." Quirrell's voice grew smaller and smaller.

  He spoke with a stutter, and even when he went to the bckboard to write, he hunched his shoulders, writing a word and then gng around as if he were afraid of something.

  Throughout the entire css, aside from writing a few words on the bckboard at the beginning, Quirrell never left his seat.

  He held the textbook the whole time, reading in a very small, dry voice from the podium.

  The students sitting in their seats couldn't help but cover their mouths and noses, knowing it was impolite, but they couldn't help it; Quirrell's smell was simply too overp.

  Hoare stared at the back of his head, w if the Dark Lord wouldn't be suffocated to death.

  Imagihe first Dark Lord to be suffocated to death; he would surely go down in the history of magic.

  Hoare didn't act immediately; after all, only by stepping in when everyone was at their wits' end could he demonstrate his importance by saving them.

  Although Quirrell's smell was masked by a lot of garlic, Hoare could still detect the underlying stench of decay beh it.

  A body only house one soul; at first, it might be fine, but over time, the body 't withstand the power of two souls and begins to colpse.

  A colpsing body emits a rotten stend unbearable pain.

  Even if one soul is removed, this damage is irreversible.

  Hoare wondered what kind of potion the Dark Lord had fed Quirrell to make him willingly endure such pain to support him.

  Halfway through the css, Zabini tugged on the protagonist's sleeve, leaning into Hoare's ear with a buzzing whisper, "Hoare, when are you going to act?"

  Malfoy covered his mouth and h his hand, desperately giving Hoare meaningful looks, feeling like he was about to die.

  The students who had been informed looked at Hoare, using their eyes to repce words, desperately trying to vey their suffering and urgen.

  Hoare wore an i smile, extending his right hand and making a rubbiure oable.

  He didn't o speak; everyone else knew what he meant.

  "Didn't we agree on payment after the job's done?" Malfoy whispered angrily at Hoare, actally l his hand, letting the smell hit him, "Ugh, ugh, ugh."

  "Down payment," Hoare shrugged.

  "Take it!" Malfoy quickly pulled out a small wallet he had prepared from his pocket and ha to Hoare.

  Hoare weighed it, very satisfied with the familiar weight.

  He raised his hand.

  "Student, please, please speak," Quirrell put dowextbook.

  "Professor, I heard you drove away a vampire from Romania and are afraid of being found aaliated against—" Hoare stood up, pig up his bag, "I happen to know a way to help you."

  Without waiting for Quirrell's response, Hoare carried his small bag to the front of the podium.

  Very kindly, he took out items from his ste bag, pg them in front of Quirrell one by one.

  A peachwood sword, a small bowl of sticky rice, a red string, a bottle of bck dog's blood, and two chopsticks.

  These were good things issioned from the twins.

  "Teacher, don't be afraid, this is a ond-for-all solution." Hoare pondered whie to try first.

  The peachwood sword was too violent; he looked at Quirrell's physique, though thin, still taller than himself, and he might not be able to hit Quirrell in a fight.

  The bck dog's blood was too potent, even Peeves, an old ghost, couldn't ha, luckily Hoare had replenished him with some magi time.

  H the back of Quirrell's head.

  He wasn't sure if the Dark Lord ted as an evil spirit; if so, he might o use everything to drive him out of Quirrell's body.

  Quirrell looked at the straems in front of him, the hair on his hands standing on end involuntarily.

  "William, William, what are you doing?" he swallowed, quietly moving back a bit.

  Hoare silently pared the damage.

  A deg body, an abnormal soul, needing to drink blood to sustain, though it was cursed uni blood, wasn't this a type of zombie?

  Let's use this!

  "Professor, we 't ighe problem, we must face it bravely." Hoare pulled Quirrell over, moving so fast that Quirrell didn't eve clearly, and by the time he reacted, he was already in front of the student named Henry William.

  "What are you doing...!"

  As Quirrell opened his mouth to speak, Hoare raised a bowl of sticky rid poured it in.

  "Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough..."

  After stuffing the sticky rito Quirrell's mouth, Quirrell's face turned red, clutg his throat and coughing desperately, as if he were about to die.

  The other students below were dumbfounded; when Hoare first took out those tools, they were bewildered. Now, they were all stunned.

  Wasn't he supposed to pletely remove Professor Quirrell's odor!?

  Is this how it's done...?

  Malfoy's eyes were very bnk; he turiffly to one side, looking at Bise, who was so shocked he fot to cover his mouth and nose, "Is this real? Is Henry feeding Professor Quirrell... rice?"

  "He charged me 1320 Galleons just to feed Professor Quirrell rice!?"

  Bise was dumbfounded, "It doesn't seem like it, don't worry, from my a looks like Henry stuffed it in."

  Over at Gryffindor, Harry swallowed, "What's Henry doing..."

  Granger said irritably, "He's bullying Professor Quirrell, no, I'm going to tell Professonagall! Weasley, what are you doing!"

  Just as Granger was about to get up, she found her robe was being stepped on by Ron.

  Ron looked at Hoare in front, then at Granger beside him, scratg his head, "I don't know why, but my intuition tells me I 't let you run out."

  "But we 't bully the professranger argued.

  "Don't move, I'm casting a spell to heal Professor Quirrell," Hoare looked at Granger seriously, "This is Eastern witchcraft, don't you want the professor to walk among us without worry!"

  Hearing this, Granger didn't dare to say anything more; after all, the professor's smell was really not good, and if it could be removed, it would be a great thing fer, who loved learning.

  On stage, after speaking ter, Hhe murmuring below and turned back to look at Quirrell.

  Aside from being choked, Quirrell didn't seem to have any other rea.

  It seemed the sticky rice wasn't very effective.

  Hoare thought about trying the bck dog's blood, though its effect articurly strong!

  In his hesitation, Hoare saw Quirrell pick up a bottle from the table and pour it into his mouth.

  He didn't have time to stop him.