parentshiftbook Chapter 46 In the Clouds
Chapter 46 In the Clouds
Professor Quirrell sat in a corner of the stands.
He still kept his head completely covered with that purple scarf.
Thanks to the strong garlic smell emanating from his scarf, even the professor closest to him was seated three seats away.
So no one noticed anything unusual about him at that moment.
After Lynch said that magic was the product of a spark blooming in the soul, a burning pain came from the back of his head.
The afternoon sun shone on him, but he felt that the air around him seemed colder than at night.
He could feel an unnatural wriggling sensation coming from the skin under the scarf behind his head.
His body trembled uncontrollably, his face was ashen, and his inner shirt was soaked with cold sweat.
Quirrell desperately tried to control himself, to remain calm, and to suppress any screams or sudden fainting.
Dumbledore was sitting seven or eight meters in front of him. If his abnormality was discovered and attracted Dumbledore's attention, it would be the end of him.
"Master...Master...Have mercy..."
Quirrell pleaded silently in his heart.
Another voice hissed in Quirrell's mind: "Hiss...Quiet! You useless piece of trash! Control yourself!"
That damned hangman... ugh... how dare he... spout nonsense here...
Insight...so precise...hitting the core...hiss...danger...extremely dangerous...
Strength...will...hiss...he's right...that's the key...but this strength...this wisdom...he must...
Dumbledore... hiss... the old fox... he tacitly approved it... they're working together... shaking my foundations!
But the Philosopher's Stone... the plan... cannot be disrupted!
"Quirinas...you maggot...wake up! Disguise yourself! Observe...observe him more closely...report his every move...every detail! Now...lie low...you must lie low..."
Voldemort's voice gradually faded from Quirrell's mind, and the burning pain at the back of his head ceased.
Quirrell was pale, and with trembling hands, he took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead and face.
He breathed a sigh of relief, carefully observed his surroundings, and made sure no one had noticed his unusual behavior.
He then turned his gaze to Dumbledore's back, confirming that the greatest threat in Hogwarts was still intently watching Lynch give his lecture.
Quirrell also turned his gaze to Lynch.
After Quirrell looked at Lynch, Snape, standing next to Dumbledore, subtly shifted his position, his dark eyes sweeping over Quirrell's location.
Although Lynch's audacious actions stirred up his inner turmoil, he still keenly sensed Quirrell's unusual behavior.
Judging from his pale face and trembling body, he must have been in pain just now.
What happened? What caused him to suddenly fall into pain?
These two questions flashed through Snape's mind.
Because of Lynch's remarks?
Perhaps... this henchman of the Dark Lord harbors an even deeper secret...
A realization dawned on Snape, but that was all. Limited by his limited knowledge, he could not draw any further conclusions.
He stopped thinking and turned his gaze back to the podium in the center of the venue.
Lynch stood on the podium.
His gaze swept over the faces in the stands, some excited, some thoughtful, some hesitant, and his voice rang out steadily: "In this class, we had a lot of discussions and came to a straightforward conclusion."
But no amount of verbal description can compare to experiencing it firsthand; that's what will truly make a lasting impression.
He paused, a glint of light flashing in his dark eyes.
"Next, I will show you the power that can be displayed when a wizard's magic and will are tempered to a certain degree."
Please sit tight.
As soon as he finished speaking, Lynch remained standing quietly on the central stage, his hands never leaving the edge of the lectern, and the crow on his shoulder merely turned its head.
However, in the very next instant—
hum!
A deep, resonant tremor suddenly emanated from the depths of the oak stands beneath everyone's feet, as if a sleeping giant was stretching its limbs.
Immediately afterwards, a massive yet remarkably steady force supported the entire enormous grandstand.
"Merlin!"
"What's going on?!"
Exclamations erupted instantly in the stands.
Harry instinctively gripped the oak railings on both sides of the seat, his body involuntarily leaning back against the chair back.
He turned his head to look around. Ron, Hermione, and Seamus next to him were also gripping the railing next to their seats, just like him.
Harry suddenly noticed that the castle's towering towers on the edge of his vision were rapidly disappearing into the ground.
A strong gust of wind from above blew his already messy hair back to his scalp, and a tremendous force appeared out of nowhere, pressing his entire body firmly into the seat.
He forced himself to turn his head to look elsewhere, only to find that the lush green grass, the distant Black Lake, the ancient Hogwarts Castle... all these familiar sights were now beneath their feet, and were receding and shrinking at a heart-stopping speed!
The oak grandstand, carrying all the teachers and students, rises steadily and irresistibly into the sky like a mountain peak rising from the ground.
The wind whistled in my ears, and the air became crisp and refreshing.
The castle quickly grew to the size of building blocks, and the Forbidden Forest spread across the land like a deep green velvet carpet.
The initial panic in the stands was quickly replaced by an indescribable sense of awe.
Countless eyes stared wide-eyed, their knuckles white as they gripped the railing tightly, their mouths slightly open but unable to utter a sound, only able to watch the world unfold beneath their feet in a daze.
They flew higher and higher, piercing through the thin mist at low altitudes, the cold, damp air brushing against their faces.
The view opened up to an endless expanse, and the horizon took on a beautiful arc.
Then, the thick, piled-up clouds overhead drew ever closer.
Harry gradually felt his breathing becoming difficult, and each breath required more effort.
The massive oak grandstand silently crashed into the dense clouds.
The surroundings were instantly enveloped in a hazy, gray chaos. The damp, cold moisture quickly condensed on their hair, eyebrows, and robes, before being driven away from their bodies by an invisible force rising from the stands.
As this power rose, Harry found it easier to breathe again.
The light in the clouds was very dim, and only the stands themselves and the large, steadily glowing silver lettering floating in front of the podium were visible: "Magic is the response of magical power to will."
This chaotic envelope lasted only a brief ten seconds.
The next moment, the stands suddenly broke free from the clouds!
In an instant, my vision opened up, as if I had broken through a thick layer of cotton and entered a brand new and magnificent world.
Harry heard a suppressed, almost suffocating gasp.
But he didn't try to find out who made the sound; he just stared blankly at the scene before him, like all the other young wizards at Hogwarts.
Above, there is a deep, pure, and boundless azure sky.
Beneath your feet lies a vast, boundless, surging sea of clouds.
The thick clouds stretched out below like an endless plain covered with pure white down.
What is most breathtaking is the enormous, setting sun.
It hangs at the junction of the sea of clouds and the sky, like a giant piece of molten gold, overflowing with golden-red light.
The radiant glow of the sunset poured down, igniting the entire sea of clouds and turning it into a magnificent golden yellow and a beautiful orange-red.
The light was so intense and so sacred, as if the whole world had been coated with a layer of flowing molten gold.
Lin Qi stood in the center of the podium, with his back to the most brilliant light source in the world.
His figure, along with the lectern and the crow on his shoulder, was elongated and simplified in the overwhelming golden light, until only an incredibly clear silhouette remained, imprinted against the backdrop of the burning sea of clouds.
The edges of the silhouette seemed to be inlaid with a flowing gold trim.
Lin Qi's voice rang in their ears, still steady and clear.
"Now, you should be able to remember this."
As he finished speaking, right in front of his silhouette, which seemed to blend into the heavens and earth, the large silver characters formed from pure magic were not submerged by the brilliance of the setting sun. Instead, against the backdrop of the golden and red sky, they shone with a completely different, yet more profound and enduring light.
Magic is the response of magical power to will.
These eleven large characters, along with the boundless sea of clouds, the burning sunset, and the solitary silhouette in the center, were deeply imprinted in the hearts of everyone present.
The oak grandstand stood silently in the air, with only the sea of clouds rolling and surging silently below.