Professor McGonagall was too busy scolding Harry.

Step over the giant monster's corpse and walk into the bathroom.

At the end, Hermione lay motionless on the ground.

Professor McGonagall choked and quickened her pace, her voice trembling with her body: "Miss Granger, Miss Granger?"

"Professor, I'm here." Hermione spoke, her tone not that weak.

This made Professor McGonagall feel relieved: "How do you feel now?"

"I feel okay, but my head and chest hurt a bit, and Harry won't let me move," Hermione said dryly.

Professor McGonagall was relieved: "That's good, I'll take you to the school infirmary now."

"If you feel uncomfortable, please tell me."

She waved her wand and Hermione floated up, maneuvered carefully toward the door.

"Mr. Potter." After walking out of the bathroom, Professor McGonagall glanced at Snape and said hurriedly, "Gryffindor will deduct ten points for your recklessness."

Hermione felt a lump in her throat and almost cried again.

"But it's very beautiful." Professor McGonagall changed the subject, "It's a very good Transfiguration. No little wizard has ever achieved this in the first year."

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for your courage, determination, and ability."

Snape's face changed, his brows furrowed, and his tone was cold: "Professor McGonagall, isn't this too indulgent?"

"This will only make Potter more unscrupulous!"

"I think it would be best if Mr. Potter were given another period of detention, so I can do it myself..."

"Thank you, Professor Snape." Professor McGonagall declined politely, "But Mr. Potter is a student of my college, so it's better for me to handle it."

"Have a good rest tonight and I'll see you in the office tomorrow, Mr. Potter."

She hurried away with Hermione.

"Be more clear-headed next time." Snape walked up to Harry, his head covered in blood, which made him feel that Harry was much more pleasing to the eye. "You are so reckless, you are lucky to be alive."

"You're not much stronger than that troll."

"Perhaps, you should be like Miss Granger, and have a hand or an arm broken by a troll..."

Harry interrupted, meeting Snape's gaze: "It would be best if my face was torn off and my eyes gouged out."

Snape's eyes became dangerous, and he stared at Harry like a venomous snake staring at its prey.

"Perhaps I should be tougher and let Professor McGonagall hand you over to me." Snape's voice became lighter, but his tone became more dangerous.

Harry walked to the troll's body and asked, "Professor Snape, which parts of the troll's body can be made into potions?"

Snape was stunned, looking at the small figure squatting on the ground.

When Snape didn't answer, Harry turned back in confusion: "Professor?"

Meeting the amber cat eyes pulled his thoughts back to normal. He curled his lips in disgust and said, "Beard, beard is the only useful thing for a troll."

"Oh, beard." Harry sighed with a complicated expression.

Such a big thing is only so useful?

He picked up the sword, cut off the troll's head, and skillfully cut open its belly in preparation for skinning it.

Ron's face turned pale at the bloody scene, which made Snape a little puzzled: "Mr. Potter, what are you doing?"

"You finally lost your mind and started venting your anger on the troll?"

As he spoke, he glanced at Qi Luo and said, "What you should do now is to get out of here as soon as possible."

Harry replied, "Its skin is very tough and has a good magic resistance effect. Maybe it can be made into a set of leather armor. I have already talked to Professor Flitwick and asked him to contact the master blacksmith for me. Although he hasn't replied yet, it won't hurt to prepare the materials in advance."

"Tsk." Snape rarely ridiculed Harry on this matter. He glanced at Quirrell and laughed at him from a different angle: "I didn't expect you to be so skilled in anatomy."

"I've already thought about what I'm going to send you to do if I catch you and put you in solitary confinement."

Harry looked at the stinking entrails of the troll, not giving up, and asked again: "Professor, are the other materials really useless?"

"Are your ears not working well?" Snape sneered, "Or did you have a close encounter with a troll and your brain has become like the troll's, unable to understand human language?"

"It won't work. Maybe you can eat it, taste the stinky flavor, and see if you can vomit out your dinner from last night."

Harry held up his head, stood up, and turned to look at Quirrell who was still sobbing beside him: "Professor Quirrell."

Quirrell trembled slightly.

"We're leaving now, I think you'd better check your classroom." Harry waved at Professor Quirrell.

Quirrell shuddered and opened his mouth.

Ron was also hesitant to speak. He really didn't want to be in the same space with Snape. He was so scared that he was shaking.

They walked out of the first floor corridor and into the hall.

"Okay, Potter, I'm not your babysitter." Snape stopped immediately, "Remember to use your brain before doing anything next time."

"Thank you, Professor Snape, I have another question for you." Harry stopped him.

Snape put down his raised foot, raised his eyebrows, and said nothing.

"What's the password to Headmaster Dumbledore's office?" Harry asked.

Snape frowned and clicked his tongue. "Cockroach pile, you should be able to guess what else he could use as a password?"

After saying this, he flicked his sleeves and left in a hurry.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I forgot what you told me..." Ron began, his voice getting smaller and smaller, and he changed the subject and argued for himself, "But I discovered something big, something very big."

Harry stuffed the troll head and the Sorting Hat on Ron without further ado. "Let's talk about it when I come back. I have to go see Headmaster Dumbledore now."

Ron opened his mouth, holding the two dirty things, at a loss.

"Help me wash my hat when you get back. That's your compensation to me." Harry waved his hand. "And your head. Find a clean place to put it until I come back to deal with it."

The Sorting Hat grumbled, "Come back soon. When you come back, I have something to say."

Harry raised his hand to rub his temple and nodded.

It's obviously a holiday.

Why does it feel like...it's getting even busier.

He ran to Dumbledore's office on the third floor, recited the password, and went up the stairs to the eighth floor.

"Harry." Dumbledore was a little surprised when he saw him. "What's wrong with you?"

"I had a fight with a troll." Harry waved his hand. "It's not important. You should have found out something."

Dumbledore waved his wand, cleaned up, and dealt with the blood on Harry's body: "What did you say?"

"Quirrel, I mean Quirrell," Harry emphasized.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

Harry also raised his eyebrows. "Don't tell me you didn't even know that Quirrell put the troll in there."

"I'm curious, how did you know that?" Dumbledore asked Harry to sit down, waved his wand again, and poured him a glass of milk.

Harry picked up the milk and took a sip. "What a poor performance. He was frightened by the troll, but he still ran all the way from the dungeon to the hall, finished talking to you, and then fainted."

"And there's no way he can't even subdue a troll."

"He strikes me as dangerous, more dangerous than any other professor, only slightly less dangerous than you."

In Harry's opinion, the most dangerous person in Hogwarts is Dumbledore, followed by Quirrell, then Flitwick, McGonagall and Snape, all of whom are about the same, followed by Sprout, who is just a little bit worse.

Dumbledore chuckled. "It is an honor to be praised so highly by a young man."

Harry frowned.

"Well, I did find something." Dumbledore hesitated, looking at Harry, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table. After a long while, he continued, "I suspect Quirrell may have become Voldemort's minion."

"You should drive a dangerous person like this out of the castle." Harry said bluntly, "And isn't Voldemort dead?"

"I have always suspected that he is not dead." Dumbledore pushed his glasses. "A powerful wizard, especially a dark wizard, always has many ways to resist death."

"As for... Quirrell."

"I'm afraid I can't get him out."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Dumbledore explained: "Quirrel used to be a good boy, an excellent Ravenclaw, and an excellent Muggle Studies professor, but he changed after the start of this school year."

"I thought his temperament had changed because of something. It was not until today that I was sure that he was heading for the Philosopher's Stone. I began to wonder if he was controlled by Voldemort."

"I am the headmaster of Hogwarts. I cannot abandon my dear students, even if they have graduated."

Harry finished his milk and put the cup down gently. "So, Quirrell is possessed by Voldemort?"

Dumbledore was stunned: "Why do you think so?"

Harry lifted his hair and pointed to his scar: "This is the symbol of the savior, the scar of the hero."

"In a symbolic sense, it's a connection between me and Voldemort."

"He is the only one who can make it react."

"Ahaha, I should have thought of that earlier, but I always thought he was dead."

Dumbledore picked up his teacup, took a sip, and asked in return: "Why can't it be that Voldemort's curse on Quirrell caused your scar to react?"

"Only once." Harry frowned. "If it was a curse, then Professor Quirrell and I have had many contacts, so it should have happened many times. But after the first night of school, there was no reaction."

"That day..."

"It should be that Voldemort is using Quirrell's eyes to spy on me."

At this point, Harry stood up expressionlessly and nodded, "Thank you for your advice, Mr. Dumbledore. I guess I have to stay away from the Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the future."

Dumbledore stopped him and said, "Wait, Harry, don't you want to do something?"

Harry turned around and looked at him, expressionless: "What do I need to do?"

"That was Voldemort," Dumbledore said in a low voice.

Harry sneered: "You also know that it is Voldemort, Headmaster Dumbledore. They all think I am the savior and that I defeated Voldemort."

"But you know he's not dead."

"You also know that I don't have any special ability to save the world."

"What makes you think that I, a mere first-year wizard, would have any thoughts about Voldemort?"

"You are the Headmaster, my dear Mr. Dumbledore."

"Do you want me to call Professor Snape? He's good at scolding people, maybe he can heal your brain."