Chapter 49: Professor Quirrell Vomited on Everyone!
"What's going on?" Hermione frowned. "Is that broomstick old and broken?"
Hagrid frowned, "No, only dark magic can affect a broomstick like that."
"What?!" Hermione was shocked and immediately snatched the binoculars Hagrid had brought.
She looked around and quickly spotted someone casting a spell.
"Snape! He's the one casting the spell!"
"Huh?!" Ron's eyes widened.
"No, Professor Snape has gone mad! He's trying to kill Harry!"
Hermione shoved the binoculars into Ron's hands, "Look!"
"What should we do?" Ron took the binoculars and saw Professor Snape muttering something.
"We have to stop him!" Hermione stood up, ready to run halfway around the field to confront Snape.
But Dylan spoke up, "Don't rush. Look at that."
He took the binoculars from Ron and pointed them in a different direction.
"Professor Quirrell? He's also casting a spell?" Hermione was stunned.
"That professor who carries textbooks every day, stumbles during class, and whose face is as pale as an old lady's heel, can cast spells?" Hermione was surprised.
Dylan's eyes widened slightly, looking at Hermione's slightly open, red lips, due to shock.
"Such vicious words come from that mouth?"
Dylan pursed his lips, "Anyway, Quirrell's class is indeed like an old lady's foot binding, smelly and long, but he's casting a spell, that's a fact."
"Besides, a curse can make Harry's broomstick go out of control, but a counter-curse can make Harry regain control."
"But it's strange that Quirrell can cast either kind of spell, right?"
Hermione frowned and nodded slightly, "So what should we do?"
"Don't panic." Dylan moved his wand.
Although it was quite far, Dylan aimed his wand at Quirrell.
"You're going to cast a spell over there?!" Hermione turned her head.
Dylan smiled slightly, "Finite Incantatem!"
He softly chanted the incantation for Finite Incantatem.
But in truth.
"Confundo!"
Dylan wasn't bold enough to use dark magic directly in that position, even with a cover spell.
Because.
Quirrell wanted to know if Dumbledore was home, and so did he!
He didn't know if Dumbledore was gone from school or if he was watching Quirrell.
Perhaps he transformed into a student and was sitting in a corner.
Dylan did not feel like taking the chance.
It was all right in the dungeon, because if someone cast a spell to monitor his actions, they could not directly determine which spell he had used.
Now there were so many people, Dylan wasn't sure if Dumbledore was hiding among them.
Compared to Quirrell, he felt that if Dumbledore really focused on him, then Harry wouldn't be fighting Voldemort, but him!
Dumbledore might just kill him on the spot!
"Ah!"
Just as Dylan's Confundo, which traveled almost half the field, hit Quirrell, who was competing with Professor Snape.
He wanted to cast another Jinx at Harry, but suddenly his head ached, and his mouth twitched.
He cast a Hex on himself.
His stomach ached, his face turned pale, his eyes widened, his pupils contracted sharply, and his lips trembled without blood.
Then, Quirrell's throat convulsed violently, his mouth opened wide, almost dislocating his jaw.
"Ugh—"
A stream of yellowish-green vomit spewed out of his mouth, spreading forward in a fan shape.
The semi-liquid mass was mixed with soft, rotten bread crumbs and shreds of green vegetable leaves, along with some unidentifiable mushy substances.
Like ammunition fired from a shotgun, it rushed straight towards the crowd in front.
The people in the front row were caught off guard and were drenched by the sudden "rain."
Some were splashed on their faces, instinctively closing their eyes.
Some were sprayed on their bodies, jumping up in horror.
Some were still shouting, anxiously watching Harry in the sky, and then.
"Ugh!"
"Ugh, ugh, ugh!"
"Ugh, ugh!"
For a moment, it was as if a signal had been fired, and many people in the front row joined the passionate chorus.
The scene was chaotic.
Quirrell couldn't care about others. His body leaned forward uncontrollably, his hands on his knees, still vomiting.
Professor Snape was about to cast another spell at Harry, but the curse on Harry had already been lifted.
Then, the stands not far away were in chaos.
He was stunned.
At the same time.
Hermione, who was observing Quirrell with binoculars, quickly put down the binoculars, covered her mouth, and looked at Dylan in a panic.
"What's wrong? What's going on over there?" Ron asked anxiously.
But Hermione covered her mouth, her body twitching, unable to speak.
"What's wrong?" Ron grabbed the binoculars from Hermione.
He looked through them.
"Professor Quirrell vomited on them? Ugh—"
"Don't vomit!" Dylan glared.
Ron quickly stuffed the binoculars into Seamus's arms and covered his mouth with both hands.
Hermione took a while to recover. She opened her water glass, took two sips, and then looked at Dylan.
"Did.did you do this?"
Dylan turned his head and blinked innocently, "Hey! Don't accuse me. I just used Finite Incantatem! Besides, it's so far away, maybe my spell didn't even reach!"
He didn't show his attack effects this time.
He wouldn't admit it if anyone said he used any other spell.
Hermione looked at him suspiciously.
He didn't use any attack effects just now?
Suspicious!
"But it really was Quirrell using a curse on Harry?"
Hermione didn't dwell on it and looked at the other side of the field.
It was a mess over there, and many little wizards were screaming and crowding around.
But professors soon came forward to maintain order.
The game didn't stop, but the little wizards within the radius of Quirrell's vomit completely lost the mood to watch the game and left, rushing back to the dormitory to take a shower—
Even though the professors had used Scourgify on them.
(End of chapter)
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