Harry Potter and the Way of Reason

The door of the enemy is Rowling. [1]

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I'm not a psychopath, I'm just creative.

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As soon as Harry walked into the Defense class on Wednesday, he knew it was going to be different.

First of all, this was the largest classroom he had ever seen in Hogwarts, similar to a lecture theater in a university, with a huge white marble platform surrounded by tables that went up and down the stairs.The classroom was at the top of the castle - the sixth floor - and Harry knew he wouldn't have any explanation as to how such a large classroom had fit into the sixth floor of the castle.Apparently Hogwarts has no concept of geometry at all, neither Euclidean nor non-Euclidean; it has only connections and no directions.

Unlike the university lecture theater, there are no rows of folded chairs here; the tables and chairs are the usual Hogwarts wooden tables and chairs, which surround each step of the classroom.Slightly different from ordinary tables and chairs, there is a flat, white, rectangular mysterious object standing on each table here.

In the middle of the huge platform, there is a small dark marble dais, on which a teacher's desk is placed.Quirrell was dozing off in a chair, his head thrown back, drooling on his robes.

Why is there a feeling of déjà vu...?

Harry got to the classroom early, before the other students showed up. (English is flawed when it comes to describing time travel; in particular, it can't describe how well it works.) Quirrell seems...for now...not working, and Harry isn't bothering him idea.

Harry chose a table, climbed up and sat down, and produced his Defense textbook.He's about seven-eighths of the way through—he'd planned to finish it before class, but couldn't keep up, despite having used the Time-Turner twice today.

Soon, the classroom became noisy, and more and more people came in.Harry turned a deaf ear.

"Potter? What are you doing here?"

This voice should not be here.Harry looked up. "Draco? What are you doing here oh my god you have a follower."

Behind Draco stood two children, one very muscular for an eleven-year-old, the other poised in a suspiciously balanced position.

The pale blond boy smiled smugly and gestured behind him. "Potter, let me introduce you. This is Mr. Crabbe." His hand turned from a muscular man to a balanced man, "Mr. Gower. Vincent, Gregory, this is Harry Potter."

Mr. Goyle turned his head and gave Harry a look, as if he wanted to express some attitude, but the effect was very like a squint.Mr. Crabbe said "Nice to meet you," sounding like he was trying to keep his voice down.

A look of panic flitted across Draco's face, but it was quickly replaced by a condescending smile.

"You've got a servant!" Harry exclaimed again. "Where can I get a servant?"

Draco's condescending smile was even more complacent. "Unfortunately, Potter, first you have to be sorted into Slytherin House—"

"What? This is so unfair!"

"—and then your family will arrange this before you are born."

Harry looked at Mr Crabbe and Mr Gower.Both men seem to be trying to create a sense of oppression.That is, they were leaning forward, arching their shoulders, craning their necks to stare at him.

"Uh... wait," said Harry, "this was arranged years ago?"

"Quite right, Potter. I'm afraid you're hopeless."

Mr. Gower produced a toothpick and began to pick his teeth, while continuing to create pressure.

"And," said Harry, "Lucius insisted that you never grow up with your bodyguards, that you only saw them on the first day of school."

The smile disappeared from Draco's face. "Yes, Potter, we all know you're smart, the whole school knows, you don't have to show off—"

"So they knew from an early age that they would be your servant, and spent many years imagining what it would be like to be someone else's servant—"

Draco flinched.

"—worse, they knew each other and practiced together—"

"Boss told you to shut up," said Mr. Crabbe gruffly.Mr. Gower clamped his teeth on the toothpick and rattled the knuckles of one hand with the other.

"I told you not to play this in front of Harry Potter!"

The two looked a little embarrassed, and Mr. Gower quickly put the toothpick back in his robe pocket.

But no sooner had Draco turned his head back to face Harry than the two resumed their shoulders and heads.

"I'm sorry," Draco said stiffly, "these two retards treated you disrespectfully."

Harry looked meaningfully at Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. "I don't think you're being too hard on them, Draco. I think they behave exactly as I'd expect from a minion. I mean, if I had a minion."

Draco's jaw dropped.

"Hey, Gregory, isn't he trying to trick us from the boss?"

"I'm sure Mr Potter isn't that stupid."

"Oh, no," Harry said tactfully, "but if your current employer seems ungrateful, you can think about what I said. Besides, when it comes to negotiating working conditions, there are always other options. It's a good thing, right?"

"What was he doing in Ravenclaw?"

"I can't think of it, Mr. Crabbe."

"Shut up both of you," Draco said through gritted teeth, "that's an order." He tried to turn his attention back to Harry. "Anyway, what are you doing in Slytherin's Defense class?"

Harry frowned. "Wait." His hand reached into the Mork pocket. "Schedule." He looked at the parchment in his hand. "Defense, 2:30pm, and it's..." Harry looked at his mechanical watch, which read 11:23. "2:23, unless I got the time wrong. Am I wrong?" It's okay to be wrong, Harry knows how to catch the class he's supposed to have.Omg he loves his time-turner so much, he's going to marry it when he grows up.

"Yeah, that sounds right," Draco said, looking confused.His eyes wandered around the classroom, and he saw that besides the green-trimmed robe, there was...

"Gryffindor idiots!" Draco yelled. "What are they doing here?"

"Well," said Harry, "Professor Quirrell did say... I forget what he said... that he would ignore some of the teaching traditions at Hogwarts. Maybe he combined all the classes .”

"Uh," Draco said, "you were the first of the Ravenclaws to come."

"Yeah. I'm early."

"Then why are you sitting in the last row?"

Harry froze for a moment. "I don't know, this location looks good?"

Draco snorted. "You can't be farther away from the teacher." The blond boy moved closer, "Anyway, is what you said to Derek's gang true?"

"Who's Derek?"

"You smashed him a pie?"

"Actually, smashed two. He said what did I say to him?"

"To say what he did was neither clever nor ambitious, and to say he insulted Salazar Slytherin's reputation." Draco stared at Harry warily.

"Well... more or less," said Harry, "I remember to the effect of, 'Is this some particularly clever ploy that will benefit you later, or is it as pointless as it seems, just for Sarah Racha Slytherin is ashamed' or something. I forgot the exact words."

"You know what, you're confusing everyone," said the blond boy.

"Huh?" Harry was really puzzled now.

"Warrington said that staying under the sorting hat for a long time is one of the omens of a powerful dark wizard. Everyone is talking about this, wondering if they will start cursing you now just in case. Then you run to protect a group of Hercules Chippaky, for Merlin's sake! Then you tell Derek he's disgraced Salazar Slytherin! What do you make everyone think?"

"The Sorting Hat put me in the 'Slytherin! You're kidding! Ravenclaw!' house, and I'm doing what it says."

Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Gore laughed together, and Mr. Gore quickly put his hand over his mouth.

"We're going to find a seat," Draco said, hesitating for a moment, straightening up, his tone more formal. "I want to continue our last conversation, and I accept your terms."

Harry nodded. "Would you mind if it had to wait until Saturday afternoon? I'm betting on a match right now."

"Gambling?"

"Bet I can finish the textbook as fast as Hermione Granger."

"Granger," Draco repeated, his eyes narrowed. "That mudblood who thinks he's Merlin? If you're going to give her some color, then all the Slytherins wish you luck, Potter, and I won't bother you until Saturday." Draco said politely Nodding, he walked away, followed by his two followers.

Oh, it's going to be a lot of fun to go back and forth between these two sides, I can feel it now.

There are more and more people in the classroom, and the trim on the clothes comes in four colors: green, red, yellow, and blue.Draco and his two friends seemed to be trying to get the three seats together in the front row - of course, it was already occupied.Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Gower are trying to create pressure, but they don't seem to be very successful.

Harry continued to read his Defense textbook at his desk.

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At 2:35, when all the seats were almost full and no one continued to enter the classroom, Professor Quirrell suddenly twitched in his seat, sat up straight, and then his face appeared vertically in front of all the desks. on a flat white cuboid.

Harry was taken aback, partly by the sudden appearance of Professor Quirrell's face, and partly by its resemblance to Muggle television.It's a sad feeling of nostalgia, because it looks so much like a part of home and yet isn't...

"Good afternoon, my young apprentices," said Professor Quirrell, his voice seemed to come from the screen on the table, addressing Harry directly. "Welcome to the first class in Combat Magic, as the founders of Hogwarts called it; or, if it goes by its late twentieth-century name, Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Many students were taken aback, and quickly reached for parchment or notebooks, and began to take notes.

"No," said Professor Quirrell, "don't bother remembering the old name of this class. This kind of meaningless question will never appear on my exam paper. I promise."

Many students straightened up, looking quite surprised.

Professor Quirrell smiled slightly. "Those who waste their time reading your useless first-year defense textbook—"

Someone made a choked sound.Harry wondered if it was Hermione.

"—one might get the impression that although the class is titled Defense Against the Dark Arts, it's really about defending against nightmare butterflies that give people nightmares, or the ability to drill through two inches of wood a day. Beam's sour worm."

Professor Quirrell stood up and pushed his chair behind the desk.The screen on Harry's desk followed his movements.Professor Quirrell strode into the middle of the classroom and shouted:

"The Hungarian Ceratosaurus is taller than twelve men! Its flames are fast and accurate enough to melt a Snitch flying at full speed! A Death Curse can bring it down!"

There was a gasp from among the students.

"The mountain monster is more dangerous than the Hungarian Ceratosaurus! Its sharp teeth can bite through steel plates! Its skin is magic-resistant enough to make stun and severing spells ineffective! Its sense of smell is extremely sensitive, and it can smell prey in groups The team is still vulnerable and alone! The most terrifying thing is that the troll is a unique magical creature that is constantly transforming - transforming back into itself all the time. If you manage to tear off its arm, it will be in Another one will grow within seconds! Fire and acid can create scar tissue that temporarily inhibits the troll's ability to regenerate - but only for an hour or two! They're smart enough to use a stick as a tool! Trolls in nature No. [-] among the perfect killing machines! A Death Curse can bring it down."

The students looked rather shaken.

Professor Quirrell's smile was quite grim. "Your pathetic third-year defense textbooks advise you to lure the troll out into direct sunlight so that it freezes in place. My young apprentices, such nonsense will never be taught in my classes. You can't meet trolls in daylight! Using sunlight to deal with trolls is the consequence of stupid textbook authors ignoring feasibility in order to show off the little details they know. Just because there's an out-of-the-way way to deal with trolls doesn't mean you Should try to use it! The Death Curse is unstoppable, uninterruptible, and will work on anything with a brain. Once you're an adult wizard, if you find yourself unable to cast the Death Curse, you'll just Apparate and leave !Similarly, if you are facing the perfect killing machine No.2, the Dementor, immediately cast Apparation and leave!"

"Unless, of course," said Professor Quirrell, his voice now lower and stronger. "Your surroundings have been cast with a non-apparating spell. No, there is only one monster that can threaten you when you grow up. The most dangerous monsters in the world, more dangerous than any other creature. Dark wizards. That's the only thing that still threatens you."

Professor Quirrell's lips were drawn into a thin line. "I will forcefully teach you some insignificant content so that you can pass the Ministry of Magic's final examination. Because the specific scores will not have any impact on your future, students who want to get high scores should waste their time studying yours. Crappy textbook. The name of the class is not Defense Against Small Vermin. You're going to learn how to defend against the dark arts. That is, let me be clear at the outset, you're going to learn how to defend against dark wizards. These have Wands, people who try to hurt you will most likely succeed unless you hurt them first! No attack, no defense! No fight, no defense! Fat, well-paid, Auror-protected politicians feel this fact Too cruel for 11 year olds to be in textbooks. To hell with those idiots! You are learning a subject that has been taught at Hogwarts for 800 years! Welcome to first year combat magic!"

Harry clapped his hands.He's involuntary, which is so inspiring.

When Harry started to applaud, there was sparse applause from the Gryffindor side, and even more applause from the Slytherin side, but most of the students seemed stunned and unresponsive.

Professor Quirrell made a stop gesture, and the applause stopped immediately. "Thank you very much," said Professor Quirrell, "and now for the specifics. I've combined the combat lessons of the first year so that the total class time can be twice as long as the double class—"

Horrible inhalation sound.

"—As compensation, I won't assign homework after class."

The terrifying inhalation sound disappeared immediately.

"Yes, you heard me right. I'm going to teach you how to fight, not write a twelve-inch article on how to fight and give it to me on Monday."

Harry wished he was sitting next to Hermione at this moment, just to see the look on her face, but on the other hand, he was sure he had imagined it quite accurately.

And Harry is in love.It would be a three-way marriage: him, the Time-Turner, and Professor Quirrell.

"If you want, I have arranged some extracurricular activities. I think you will have fun and learn knowledge. I want the whole world to see your own ability, instead of watching fourteen other players play Quidditch Strange? There are more than seven men in the army who can fight."

awesome.

"These extracurricular activities earn you Quirrell points. What are Quirrell points, you ask? The house point system doesn't work for me because house points are so rare. I want my students to feel How do you learn? For example, when I occasionally take a written test, the test paper will judge right or wrong the moment you write down the answer. If you answer many interrelated questions incorrectly, the test paper will display the names of the students who answered correctly. , these students can earn Quirrell points by helping you."

……Wow.Why don't other professors use such a system?

"What's the use of Quirrell points, you're thinking? First of all, ten Quirrell points can be exchanged for one college point. But they can also give you other conveniences. Would you like to change the time for the exam? Is there any class you are very excited about?" Want to drop it? You'll find I'm flexible with students who have accumulated enough Quirrell points. Quirrell points will determine your title in the army. And Christmas - before the Christmas break - I Will grant a Christmas wish. Anything within the scope of the school, I will use my ability, my influence, especially my ingenuity to do it. Yes, I was a Slytherin, I will design for you An ingenious scheme to get you what you crave. A Christmas wish goes to the student who earns the most Quirrell points in each of the seven grades."

That person will be Harry.

"Now please leave your books and other items on the table - they are safe and the screen on the table will watch for you - and come to the platform. We are going to play a game called 'Who is the most dangerous student in the classroom '."

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Harry turned his wand with his right hand and said, "Ma-ha-shu!"

The target assigned to Harry by Professor Quirrell - a floating blue sphere - pinged again.The sound meant he had hit the target perfectly, nine times out of ten Harry had done it.

It's a spell that Professor Quirrell pulled out of nowhere, super easy to pronounce, super simple wand action, and hits whatever you're looking at.Professor Quirrell said contemptuously that real combat magic is much more difficult than this.This little spell is useless in real combat.This spell is nothing more than a chaotic mess of magic power, the only real content is aiming, and if you get hit, you will only feel a short-term pain, which is about the same as being punched in the nose.The sole purpose of this test was to see who could learn it the fastest, because Professor Quirrell was sure no one had ever learned that spell, or anything like it.

And Harry didn't care about any of that.

"Ma-ha-shu!"

A beam of red energy shot from his wand, hitting the target, and the blue orb pinged again, proving he had indeed mastered the spell.

Harry felt like a real wizard for the first time since coming to Hogwarts.He hoped his targets would dodge, like those little balls Ben Cannoby used to train Luke, but for some reason, Professor Quirrell lined up all the students and targets in a neat row, Make it impossible for them to open fire on other students.

So Harry put down his wand, dodged to the right, and at the same time raised his wand and twirled it, shouting "Ma-ha-shu!"

A dull "boom" sound meant that he almost hit it.

Harry pocketed his wand, ducked to the left, drew his wand, and fired again, shooting a bolt of red energy.

That crisp "ping" was one of the most satisfying sounds he had ever heard in his life.Harry wanted to scream loudly in triumph.I can do magic!Tremble, the laws of physics, I have come to violate you!

"Ma-ha-shu!" Harry's voice was loud, but barely audible among the similar shouts from the crowd on the platform.

"Enough," said Professor Quirrell's amplified voice, (Voice doesn't sound loud. Just normal volume, like talking behind your left shoulder, regardless of your real relative position to Professor Quirrell.) "I see that all of you have succeeded at least once." The sphere used as a target turned red and slowly rose toward the ceiling.

Professor Quirrell stood on a dais protruding from the middle of the platform, leaning one hand against the teacher's desk.

"I told you," said Professor Quirrell, "that the game we're going to play is called 'Who's the Most Dangerous Student in the Classroom'. There's a student in this room who was the first to learn the Sumerian Simple Attack Charm— "

Oh blah blah blah.

"—and then helped seven other students. She got the first seven Quirrell points of your year for it. Come to the front, Hermione Granger. The game is going to the next level."

Hermione Granger strode forward with a look of pride and nervousness on her face.The Ravenclaws looked at her proudly, the Slytherins glared angrily, and Harry's expression was frankly unhappy.Harry did a good job this time.He was even the first half of the class, because it was a spell that was unfamiliar to everyone, and Harry had finished reading Principles of Magic by Albert Waughlin.Hermione was stronger though.

In the back of his mind, he worried that Hermione was really smarter than him.

For now, though, Harry remains hopeful, based on the fact that (a) Hermione has read far more than standard textbooks, and (b) Albert Waughlin is a mediocre fellow who wrote Principles of Magic. It's just to cater to the school managers, and it never occurred to the readers that there are 11-year-old children.

Hermione walked up to the podium.

"Hermione Granger learned a spell she was completely unfamiliar with in 2 minutes, almost a full minute faster than No. 2," Professor Quirrell slowly turned around on the spot, looking at all the other students, " Does Miss Granger's intelligence make her the most dangerous person in the classroom? Hmm? What do you think?"

No one seemed to know how to feel.Even Harry didn't know what to say.

"How about we take a look?" said Professor Quirrell.He turned to Hermione and pointed to the other students in the audience. "Choose a student at random and cast a simple attack spell."

Hermione froze.

"Well," said Professor Quirrell smoothly, "you've cast the spell perfectly fifty times. It doesn't leave permanent damage, and it doesn't even hurt very much. The pain is the same as being hit hard enough." It's about the same punch, and it only lasts a few seconds." Professor Quirrell's tone became stern, "This is a direct order from your professor, Miss Granger. Please choose a target and cast a simple attack spell."

Hermione's face scrunched up in horror, her wand trembling in her hand.Harry's fingers gripped his wand tightly in sympathy.Even if he understood what Professor Quirrell wanted to do.Even if he understood what Professor Quirrell was trying to prove.

"If you refuse to raise your wand and fire, Miss Granger, you will lose one Quirrell point."

Harry stared at Hermione, hoping she would look in his direction.His right hand gently touched his chest.Choose me, I'm not afraid...

Hermione's wand twitched briefly in her hand; then her expression relaxed, and her wand dropped.

"No," said Hermione Granger.

Her voice was very calm, although it was not loud, but in that silence, everyone heard it.

"Then I can only deduct one point from you," said Professor Quirrell. "It was a test, and you failed it."

The words hurt her.Harry could see it.But her shoulders were still straight.

Professor Quirrell's voice echoed throughout the classroom with sympathy. "Knowledge is not enough, Miss Granger. If you can't even inflict and endure this kind of violence on the level of a sore toe, then you can't protect yourself and pass the defense. Please go back to your classmates among them."

Hermione walked back into a group of Ravenclaw students.Her face looked peaceful, and Harry wanted to applaud for some odd reason.Even if Professor Quirrell is right.

"So," said Professor Quirrell, "it's clear now that Hermione Granger isn't the most dangerous student in the room. Who do you think is actually the most dangerous person here? - except me, of course. "

Harry looked over at Slytherin without thinking.

"Draco, from the noble and ancient Malfoy family," said Professor Quirrell, "Many of your classmates are looking at you. If you don't mind, please come to the front."

Draco obeyed, and walked up to the podium with a kind of proud dignity, smiling at Professor Quirrell.

"Mr. Malfoy," said Professor Quirrell, "fire."

Harry would have tried to stop it if he had time, but Draco turned to the Ravenclaw crowd in one fluid motion, raised his wand and said "Maha!" as if the spell had only one syllable, and then Hermione said "Ow!" and it was over.

"A good hit," said Professor Quirrell. "Two Quirrell points for you. But tell me, why did you choose Miss Granger?"

a pause.

Draco finally said, "Because she stood out the most."

A faint smile appeared on Professor Quirrell's lips. "That's why Draco Malfoy is dangerous. If he had chosen someone else, the kid would probably hate being singled out, and Malfoy made an enemy. And, while Mr. Malfoy may have chosen her for other reasons , it will do no good for him to speak out, and offend some of you; for others, they will cheer him on whether he speaks or not. That is to say, the danger of Mr. Malfoy is that he Know who to attack and whom not to attack, how to make allies and avoid making enemies. Two more Quirrell points for you, Mr. Malfoy, for displaying the traditional virtues of Slytherin, and I think Salazar's House also One house point for that. Go back to your friends, please."

Draco bowed his head slightly and returned to the Slytherin crowd.Some of the green-trimmed robes began to clap, but Professor Quirrell made a stop sign, and the room fell silent again.

"Our game seemed to be over," Professor Quirrell said, "but in this classroom, there is another student who is more dangerous than Malfoy's heir."

But this time, I don't know why many people are watching...

"Harry Potter. Come forward, please."

This is not a good sign.

Harry reluctantly made his way to Professor Quirrell's lectern, where he stood on the ledge, still leaning on the table.

The nervousness of being accidentally pulled onto the stage seemed to enhance Harry's ability to think. As Harry walked to the podium, he guessed how Professor Quirrell would prove Harry's danger.Would he ask him to cast some spell?Defeat a Dark Lord?

Want him to demonstrate resistance to the Death Curse?Professor Quirrell isn't that stupid...

Harry stopped a long way from the podium, and Professor Quirrell didn't tell him to come any closer.

"The irony," said Professor Quirrell, "is that you chose the right man, but got the wrong reason. What you think," Professor Quirrell's lips curled up slightly, "Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord , so he must be dangerous. Pull it down. He was only a year old. Whatever coincidence of fate killed the Dark Lord, it had nothing to do with Mr. Potter's fighting prowess. But when I heard that a Raven After Crowe defeated the five senior Slytherins, I interviewed a few students and concluded that Harry Potter was my most dangerous student."

Adrenaline rushed into Harry's blood like crazy, and he stood up straighter.He didn't know what conclusion Professor Quirrell had drawn, but it was definitely not a good thing.

"Ah, Professor Quirrell—" said Harry.

Professor Quirrell seemed amused. "You're thinking I must be mistaken, aren't you, Mr. Potter? You'll learn not to underestimate me." Professor Quirrell straightened up. "Everything has its purpose, Mr. Potter. Name ten unusual ways to use the things in this classroom for battle!"

For a moment Harry stood there, dumbfounded by being seen through.

Then all kinds of ideas came like a flood.

"Some tables are so heavy that they can be fatal if dropped from a high place. Some chair legs are made of metal and can penetrate the enemy's body if they are forced hard enough. Even if the air in the classroom is taken out, it can be fatal because people are You will die in a vacuum, and air can also be used as a carrier of poisonous gas."

As Harry paused for breath, Professor Quirrell said:

"That's three. You need ten. The other students think you've covered everything that can be used in the classroom."

"Ha! The floor can be removed and turned into a trap full of spikes for people to fall into. The ceiling can fall down and hit the enemy. The wall can be used as a raw material for transformation to create various weapons, such as knives."

"There are six kinds. Are you running out of skills?"

"I haven't started yet! Look at all the people here! Of course it's a common use for a Gryffindor to attack an enemy—"

"This doesn't count."

"—but their blood can be used to drown the enemy. Ravenclaws are famous for their brains, but their organs can be sold on the black market, and the money obtained in exchange can be used to hire assassins. Slytherin can not only be an assassin, if If you throw them fast enough, they can crush enemies. Hufflepuffs are not just hard workers, their bones can be taken out and sharpened to impale enemies."

Now the rest of the class was staring at Harry in horror.Even the Slytherins were stunned.

"That's ten ways, although Ravenclaw's usage is actually a bit reluctant. Now it's an additional question, and you will be rewarded with one Quirrell point for each more usage you say." Professor Quirrell gave Harry a With a friendly smile, "Other students think you are useless, because you have been told everything except the targets on the ceiling, and you can't figure out how to use those targets."

"Cut! I finished talking about people, but I haven't talked about my robes. My robe can wrap tightly around the enemy's head and suffocate the enemy; Hermione Granger's robe can be torn into long strips, even Ropes to hang enemies; Draco Malfoy's robes can be used to light fires—"

"At three o'clock," said Professor Quirrell, "no more clothes shall be used."

"My wand can pierce the eye sockets of the enemy and pierce their brains!" Someone made a terrifying suffocating voice.

"Four o'clock, no more wands."

"My watch can choke an enemy, if I jam it down his throat—"

"Five o'clock, enough."

"Hmph," said Harry, "ten Quirrell points are worth a House point, aren't you? You should keep me talking until I win the House Cup. I haven't started talking about my pockets yet."