Hearing Quirrell's words, Draco's eyes lit up instantly.
"Is it coming? Is it coming?" he whispered excitedly. "The Dark Magic I've always wanted to learn!"
Lykos glanced at him but didn't have the heart to crush his enthusiasm.
After all, Lykos was about to use this moment to fully help Quirrell achieve his wish—to become a complete joke in everyone's eyes.
"T–this s–spell… is the Slug-Vomiting Charm. It… it is a v–very dangerous curse. It m–makes people v–vomit slugs f–for several hours!"
Quirrell held his wand upright in front of his face as he spoke carefully.
"The Slug-Vomiting Charm? That's called a curse?" Draco stared in disbelief. "I always thought curses were cool things like the Unforgivable Curses. I never expected…"
It wasn't just Draco. Even Lykos was somewhat surprised.
In the broad category of Dark Magic, jinxes, hexes, and curses were three levels arranged by severity.
Lykos still didn't know exactly how extraordinary the Dark Magic talent Voldemort had praised in him really was.
Did it apply to all forms of Dark Magic—including jinxes, hexes, and curses?
Or was it only effective for the most vicious spells like the Unforgivable Curses?
As for a prank-like spell such as the Slug-Vomiting Charm being classified as a curse, that was indeed rather strange…
"E–everyone watch carefully," Quirrell said solemnly while staring at his wand. "The i–incantation of this d–dangerous curse is… Slugulus Eructo."
Despite their doubts about such a ridiculous curse, the tense atmosphere infected the students.
The young wizards all widened their eyes and stared at Quirrell, feeling as if they were about to witness something incredible.
"S–Slugulus Eructo!" Quirrell shouted.
The students collectively scooted their chairs backward.
Their bodies leaned away defensively, yet their eyes remained fixed on him with anticipation.
Snap.
Quirrell's wand produced a tiny spark like a lighter.
Then the spark fizzled out.
Students: "?"
"Don't tell me that was the Slug-Vomiting Charm," Draco muttered, his hopes completely shattered.
"Ah… n–no, no. I j–just realized that teaching s–students such a d–dangerous spell w–wouldn't be appropriate," Quirrell hurriedly explained.
"A–after all, this is D–Defense Against the Dark Arts. I s–should teach you how to d–defend against it."
"H–how about this… you c–cast the Slug-Vomiting Charm on m–me, and I w–will demonstrate how to defend against it."
Quirrell looked pleased with his clever idea.
"A–any of you may try. U–use the spell on m–me…"
By now, however, the students had begun to realize how unreliable he was.
They stared at him with obvious distrust.
He just said the incantation once without demonstrating anything, and he expects us to learn a spell? Does he think we're all magical prodigies? they thought silently.
Quirrell seemed satisfied.
Since none of the students had learned the spell, he wouldn't have to show them how to defend against it.
Just then, a black-haired boy raised his hand.
"M–Mr. Hayden, do you have a question?" Quirrell asked curiously.
"I memorized the incantation," Lykos said as he stood up. "I'd like to try casting the Slug-Vomiting Charm."
"N–no problem," Quirrell nodded immediately.
Judging by his confident expression, he either trusted his defensive abilities… or firmly believed that a first-year student couldn't possibly cast a curse after hearing the incantation once.
Lykos looked into Quirrell's meaningful gaze and slowly raised his wand.
This was the first time he had ever heard the incantation for the Slug-Vomiting Charm.
Yet after hearing it once, he had the strange feeling that he instantly understood the structure of the spell—through the pronunciation and the pattern of the incantation.
It felt almost like an innate talent.
So Lykos stood up, using this opportunity to test his own ability to learn Dark Magic.
"Slugulus Eructo!"
He spoke the spell instinctively.
His wand traced a strange arc, and a surge of energy seemed to rise through his blood.
The next moment, a pale green beam burst from the tip of his wand and shot straight toward Quirrell.
As the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirrell seemed completely unprepared.
The spell hit him squarely.
Smack!
He was slammed against the blackboard behind him and slowly slid down it.
"Professor, are you alright?" Lykos exclaimed, rushing forward in apparent shock.
He hurried to the podium and helped Quirrell up.
At the same time, he added loudly,
"Professor, I swear I didn't mean to! How could you be this fragile?"
"I–I'm f–fine… bleh…"
Quirrell suddenly spat out a slimy, plump slug.
Lykos calmly shifted his position to avoid the wriggling creature on the floor and helped Quirrell behind the desk.
The desk blocked the students' view—and also hid their silent lip movements.
"Is this enough?" Lykos mouthed.
"Enough," Quirrell replied the same way. "You just used the spell a little too forcefully…"
"Bleugh!"
He turned his head and vomited another large slug of a different color.
Despite the intense discomfort in his throat and stomach, Quirrell remained committed to the act.
"I–it's not y–your fault," he said weakly. "I–I simply wasn't prepared. Mr. Hayden… p–please g–go call Madam Pomfrey…"
…
News that Professor Quirrell had been hit by a first-year's Slug-Vomiting Charm spread across the entire school almost immediately.
Quirrell became a complete joke at Hogwarts.
No student respected him anymore. Everyone assumed he was just a temporary replacement hired to fill the position.
Every Defense Against the Dark Arts class soon turned into a comedy show.
Even by Friday, when the Slytherin first-years were heading to their Potions class with the Gryffindors, many students were still discussing Quirrell's "legendary" trail of vomited slugs.
"Honestly, Lykos, using the Slug-Vomiting Charm on Quirrell was just bullying him," Draco whispered as they walked down the dim dungeon corridor.
"You can even cast something like the Killing Curse. A spell like the Slug-Vomiting Charm must be child's play for you."
"Not exactly," Lykos said, shaking his head.
Then he added quietly,
"And don't talk about that outside—even if you think nobody is around."
Potions class was held in a basement classroom.
To students from other houses, the room felt cold and oppressive.
But the Slytherins, who spent most of their time in the dungeon level, were already used to it.
Glass jars lined the walls, each filled with strange preserved animal specimens floating in murky liquids.
Many timid students shivered just looking at them.
Their Potions professor was the Head of Slytherin House—Professor Severus Snape.
The moment class began, Snape picked up the roll sheet and started calling names with a cold expression.
"Oh… yes…"
When his eyes reached one familiar name, his expression changed slightly.
In a quiet voice, he said:
"Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity."
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