<h4>Chapter 32: Snape''s scepticism</h4>


    "Knock, knock, knock."


    Just as the ck-haired youth wasughing happily, a sudden knocking sound came from outside Quirrell''s office.


    His smile froze, and he was startled, immediately transforming into a ssh of ink that fell back onto the nk diary like raindrops.


    "Knock, knock, knock." The knocking sound came again.


    Quirrell hurriedly shoved the diary into a drawer and locked it before cautiously undoing a soundproofing spell and stammering towards the door, "Who''s... who''s out there?"


    "It''s me." Drac''s distinctive, rich voice came from outside the door. "I may have been a bit rough earlier, so I came to see if I could help with your scar and make some amends."


    Upon hearing Drac''s voice, Quirrell jolted.


    ''It''s you I''m afraid of!'' he thought with frustration.


    However, Quirrell, who had just cleared his suspicion in front of the professors, had no excuse to avoid opening the door. Thus, he nervously checked every corner of the room to ensure no incriminating evidence was left behind before opening the door.


    Drac stepped into the office as soon as the door was opened, surveying Quirrell''s room with a keen eye.


    "Why did it take so long to open the door? Were you doing something unsavory in here?" Not finding anything unusual in the room, Drac turned his gaze to Quirrell, with a half-smile.


    "No... no, I was just... suddenly having a headache," Quirrell stammered.


    "Ah, it''s my fault for being too rough earlier," Drac sighed and pretended to apologize, "Professor Quirrell, you''ve worked hard grading assignments and organizing teaching materials for me, yet I spoke harshly to you out of suspicion and even embedded your head in the floor."


    Quirrell''s eyes twitched involuntarily, but he still forced a smile and said, "Professor Drac, I know you did it for Hogwarts, it''s nothing for me to endure some grievances."


    "No! If Professor Quirrell can be so understanding, then I must avoid being the kind of person who doesn''t correct mistakes and fails to maintain colleague rtionships!" Drac said with righteous indignation, "I must find a way topletely resolve the scars troubling the back of your head!"


    "No... no need, I''m fine," Quirrell shook his head repeatedly.


    "Can I take that as a refusal of my good intentions, Professor Quirrell?" Drac asked gently, though the atmosphere in Quirrell''s office grew colder and more severe.


    Quirrell, trembling, quickly changed his head-shaking to nodding.


    "Then... then thank you, Professor Drac," he said unwillingly.


    Drac gave a faint smile and moved to stand behind Quirrell, and the office finally returned to its original temperature.


    "May I ask, Professor Quirrell, how did these three scars on the back of your heade about?" Drac asked casually, looking at the ugly, grotesque scars.


    With a dark wizard he greatly respected standing right behind him, Quirrell felt extremely ufortable. Trembling, he recounted the excuse he had used before:


    "I... I mentioned before that I encountered a vampire in Romania. You know I fought with... with it, and the vicious vampire left these three... three w marks on my head, which just won''t go away..."


    Upon hearing Quirrell''s exnation, Drac finally chuckled.


    He was well aware of the kinds of wounds vampires could leave and could tell at a nce that the scars on Quirrell''s head were not caused by a vampire.


    Vampires typically do not use clumsy attacks like wing at the head; they prefer the area where the shoulder and neck meet because it is the most convenient ce to lower their heads to feed.


    Clearly, Quirrell was lying again to cover up some other unknown truth!


    Having learned what he wanted to know, Drac lost interest in Quirrell''s ugly head scars, disdainfully distancing himself and walking towards the office door.


    "Professor... Professor Drac, are you not going to help... check the scars?" Quirrell asked in surprise, looking at Drac who had already reached the door.


    "I''m not looking anymore," Drac waved his hand, "Sorry, Professor Quirrell, I really can''t help with this!"


    With that, he left Quirrell''s office.


    Quirrell: "?"


    Just under a minute of observation and dering himself powerless, was he being even more perfunctory?


    ...


    Drac ascended the marble staircase of the castle''s main tower to the second floor, intending to return to his office via the Dark Arts ssroom.


    However, upon reaching the ssroom, he found another person silently standing at the podium, waiting for him.


    The ssroom was pitch ck, and the figure was d in arge ck cloak, resembling an erged bat.


    "Professor Snape, what a coincidence?" Drac raised an eyebrow and greeted the figure at the podium.


    Snape''s face was stern as he fixed his deep ck eyes on him.


    "It''s no coincidence. I''m waiting for you."


    Snape dragged out his words and said slowly, "Before we start our discussion, I''d like to ask where you''ve been, Professor Drac?"


    "Where I go doesn''t seem to concern you, Professor Snape?" Drac chuckled lightly.


    "It doesn''t matter if you don''t say, I''ll guess you went to find Quirrell, right?" Snape''s lips curled into a sharp smile.


    Drac was genuinely surprised. He hadn''t noticed anyone following him and didn''t think Snape could guess what he was doing with Quirrell.


    So he turned his gaze to Snape, observing his hooked nose and uneven teeth, crossing his arms to indicate that Snape should continue.


    "You and Quirrell are working together, aren''t you?" Snape said coldly with a sneer, then asked.


    Snape''s question left Drac stunned, his eyes wide in surprise.


    "You don''t need toe up with excuses. I''ll exin it all for you." Snape continued, "Not to mention that having a top wizard like you teaching Dark Arts is itself suspicious unless you know there''s something extremely valuable here."


    "Even disregarding that, you brought a teaching assistant who has recently frequented many secret ces, even venturing into the restricted corridor on the right side of the fourth floor."


    "He seems very interested in the treasure in that checkpoint and might attempt to breach it at any time. Can you honestly say all this is not at your behest?"


    "Maybe," Drac shrugged nonchntly, then asked with interest, "So, what do you want?"


    Snape gritted his teeth and slowly raised his wand.