Quirrell was startled by the sudden voice, his whole-body was trembling, his lip movements stopped abruptly, and the spell was interrupted.
He jerked his head around, face pale, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, stammering, "P-Professor W-Westeros? Is... is there something?"
Adrian pretended to be nonchalant, and smiled as he said, "Oh, nothing, I just thought today's match is quite exciting, don't you think, Professor Quirrell? Harry's flying well, isn't he?"
Quirrell forced a smile and nodded, "Y-yes, indeed very exciting."
The conversation ended there, leaving Quirrell somewhat perplexed.
After this, Adrian didn't say anything more, but returned his attention to the Quidditch match.
Quirrell breathed a sigh of relief, secretly grateful that Adrian didn't seem to have noticed anything unusual. He lowered his head, pretending to watch the match while continuing to mutter the spell, resuming his attempt.
However, just as he was about to utter the spell...
"Professor Quirrell."
Adrian's voice sounded beside his ear again. Quirrell's hand jerked violently, interrupting the spell once more.
"W-what is it now, Professor Westeros?"
He turned his gaze toward Adrian with an unpleasant expression, finding Adrian holding a plate with what appeared to be apple slices.
"Professor Quirrell," Adrian maintained his smiling expression, extending the plate forward, "these are a new variety of apples I've been growing recently, and they taste quite good. Would you like to try one?"
‘Apples? Just for this……..?
Can't this person just watch the match quietly!?’
Quirrell's expression grew even more unpleasant, but he still replied with a stiff smile, "Ah... th-thank you, Professor Westeros. But I'm not really... in the mood for food right now."
Adrian raised an eyebrow, put an apple slice in his own mouth, and said in a casual tone, "Have some, Professor Quirrell. You don't look well, are you feeling nervous? Eating some fruit might help you relax."
"Oh, well, that's a pity." Adrian turned his head back and continued watching the match.
Quirrell, suppressing his inner irritation, lowered his head again, found Harry in the field, and prepared to cast the spell for a third time.
However, just as he was about to utter the spell,
"Professor Quirrell," Adrian's voice sounded in his ear once more, "are you sure you don't want some apple?"
Quirrell's whole body shuddered, the spell interrupted for the third time, his face was instantly turning ashen.
His patience was reaching its limit.
"Th-thank you, Professor Westeros." Quirrell's voice was almost squeezed through clenched teeth.
But Adrian just smiled and pushed the plate of apples right in front of Quirrell's eyes.
‘It seemed that if I didn't eat, this fellow wouldn't leave me alone,’ Quirrell thought.
So Quirrell reluctantly stuffed an apple slice into his mouth, mechanically chewed a few times, then quickly swallowed it.
He didn't even notice that the surface of those apples was golden.
Adrian watched Quirrell swallow the apple, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly in a meaningful smile. "Professor Quirrell, how does it feel? These aren't ordinary apples; they have special magical effects."
Quirrell was taken aback and instinctively turned to look at Adrian, his eyes showing a hint of bewilderment. "What magical effects?"
Adrian said mysteriously, "Oh, well... it can eliminate impurities from the body, things like fatigue, injuries, and such. In short, just think of it as a blood-replenishing potion or an antidote."
Quirrell nodded, not taking Adrian's words to heart. His thoughts were still entirely on the match.
‘Magical effects of apples? Blood-replenishing potion?’
Quirrell's mind was filled with how to complete Voldemort's task; he had no time to care about these trivial details.
However, just as he was about to lower his head again to look for an opportunity, he suddenly felt a pain in his head, like a sharp knife piercing his nerves.
A voice that filled him with terror suddenly exploded in his mind.
Quirrell's body suddenly froze, his face turning deathly pale. His fingers clutched the edge of his robe so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and cold sweat slid down his face.
"M-master..." Quirrell trembled as he responded internally.
"You fool!" Voldemort's voice sounded in his mind again, his tone filled with undisguised anger. "What have you just done!? The thing you ate..."
Quirrell's heart raced uncontrollably, the fear inside nearly overwhelming him.
He had never encountered Voldemort this angry before. He needed to find a place without people quickly!
He looked around, noticing that no one was paying attention to him, and hastily turned to Adrian with a trembling voice, "P-Professor Westeros, I just remembered I have some matters to attend to, I must... must take my leave."
"Oh, is that so? That's a shame. The match is just getting exciting."
Seeing Quirrell's reaction, Adrian knew that his golden apple had taken effect.
In fact, he hadn't been certain before whether the golden apple's "purification" would have any effect on Quirrell in his current state.
Now it seemed there was definitely an impact. If only it could eliminate Voldemort completely, that would be ideal!
However, Adrian thought that possibility was quite small.
At most, this would cause a minor inconvenience.
Quirrell didn't respond but quickly stood up and left the spectator stands with shaky steps. His retreating figure was unusually wary, like a wild animal cornered.
Adrian shrugged and continued to focus on the interesting match.
Lee Jordan's voice, magically amplified, echoed throughout the Quidditch field, his tone filled with barely concealed excitement.
"Harry Potter is approaching the Golden Snitch! His fingers are almost touching it! The Slytherin Seeker tries to interfere, but Harry skillfully avoids him! Oh, my goodness! Harry Potter—he's caught it! He's caught the Golden Snitch!"
Without external interference, Harry was able to freely demonstrate his talent in flying.
Finally, after elegantly dodging the Slytherin Seeker's pursuit with a beautiful tail maneuver, Harry successfully caught the Snitch.
The entire stadium instantly erupted in deafening cheers. Gryffindor students jumped up from their seats, waving red banners and shouting Harry's name loudly.
In the professors' section, Professor McGonagall shot to her feet, her usually stern face was now flushed with excitement.
"Well done, Harry!" Professor McGonagall's voice had risen by several decibels.
Adrian also applauded from the side. ‘If only Harry were a Hufflepuff student,’ he thought reluctantly.
That way, perhaps Hufflepuff could compete for the Hogwarts Quidditch House Cup these years. After all, for a sport like Quidditch, an excellent Seeker was the key to victory.