He saw clothes?
What clothes?
Lorne was stunned and looked up at Hermione.
At this time, the clever Hermione had already discovered the meaning of the letters.
The light was too dim just now, so she didn't notice it.
Now that she had read the sentence, Hermione had guessed it at once.
"The thing reflected is what you desire?”
She instantly understood.
The contents of the mirror meant that only she could see it.
"What did you see inside?"
asked Hermione, squinting.
She already knew what she desired.
However, she would not say it out loud.
"Me?"
Lorne was stunned. He touched his nose and lied.
"I saw my family inside."
As an orphan, there was nothing wrong with seeing his family inside.
Family…
"I saw…a lot of beautiful clothes.”
Hermione lied as well.
She was sure that Lorne was definitely not looking at his family because he always hesitated when he lied.
"Is that so?"
Hermione was lying, too, she could tell.
However, the two of them did not expose each other.
He glanced at his watch and saw that it was already one o'clock in the morning.
Hermione yawned with her hand over her mouth, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes. It was obvious that she was a little sleepy.
The few hours of sleep in the library had reached its limit.
"Let's go back."
Lorne also stretched and prepared to send Hermione back to the Gryffindor lounge on the eighth floor.
If she went back alone, she might run into Filch on the way, so it was safer for him to send her back.
"Yes."
Hermione did not refuse this request. After all, it was her first night outing, so she definitely did not have as much experience as Lorne.
At the corner of the third floor, Lorne stopped in his tracks and reached out to stop Hermione, who was still walking forward.
"What's wrong?"
said Hermione in a hushed voice, startled.
In the silent night, it was natural to be shocked when someone suddenly stopped them.
The pale moonlight outside the window shone through the patterned windows and onto the marble floor.
Lorne's light blue eyes had turned red at some point. He narrowed his eyes and looked at the figure who was unlocking the door in the distance.
"Professor Quirrell?"
Hermione followed his gaze and saw the same tall figure with the purple turban.
She couldn't help but be puzzled.
"Why is Professor Quirrell here in the middle of the night?”
Quirrell was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for the second years; he was not in the first years.
However, there were only a few professors in the castle, so many people had already recognized the professor, including Hermione.
Professor Quirrell was the strangest of all the professors. He stuttered and was afraid of everything around him.
He looked like a frightened mouse.
Moreover, there were rumors that students had heard him talking to himself often, as if he had schizophrenia.
Moreover, his entire body was filled with the unpleasant smell of garlic.
It was said that Professor Quirrell was not unusual in the past. Instead, he was a smart, studious, and very talkative person until one day, when he returned from a trip abroad.
His entire person became like this.
" That's the restricted area that Headmaster Dumbledore said..." Hermione whispered." He must have some unspeakable secret.”
"What should we do now?"
What should he do?
What could he do?
He also wanted to meet his senior Tom, but it was obvious that the time was not ripe. He might as well wait for the arrival of a notebook Horcrux.
As for now, it was better to send Hermione back first.
Quirrell opened the door with a loud bang. He took a step in, then ran out in a panic, panting as he closed the door again.
"What's behind that door?"
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Quirrell, who had run out in a panic, and poked Lorne beside her.
Every professor was powerful in the eyes of young wizards like them, not to mention Quirrell, who was a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
No one who could become a Defense Against the Dark Arts student was simple.
But Quirrell looked so frightened that it was hard to imagine what was hidden inside that could frighten a professor like that.
"How would I know?"
Lorne looked at her speechlessly. Did she really think that he knew everything?
If he remembered correctly, there should be a Cerberus guarding something inside.
The Momotaro Rice Ball he had prepared last time was to deal with it, but Dumbledore had messed it up.
"Come on, Professor Quirrell's here!”
Lorne's eyes moved, and he pulled Hermione to hide behind a half-closed door.
Professor Quirrell walked over unsteadily, muttering something as if he was cursing something. His body trembled from time to time.
Due to the distance and the low volume, the two of them did not hear anything.
After Quirrell disappeared from the fourth floor, the two of them walked out.
Quirrell should have been communicating with Senior Tom just now.
It seemed that Senior Tom had taken action.
Thinking of this, Lorne looked at Hermione.
"Hurry up and go back to sleep."
When they reached the eighth floor, the two of them stood in front of the door to Gryffindor's lounge.
The Fat Lady drifted out of the painting, yawning.
"Two little night-wandering wizards, oh, and a Slytherin snake.”
"What a rare couple."
teased the Fat Lady.
However, neither of them were moved, so the Fat Lady felt very bored.
she said unhappily.
"Now, Miss Hermione, give the password.”
As the password was said, Hermione turned her head and bowed to Lorne.
"See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
Lorne nodded and turned to walk into Slytherin's lounge.
Hermione did not seem to have many friends in Gryffindor.
On the way back, Lorne could not help but think.
Normally, roommates would have easily discovered Hermione's disappearance, and would have either told Professor McGonagall or come out to look for her.
However, it was obvious that he did not.
Moreover, Hermione should have understood her situation very well, so she chose to go out for a night tour with Lorne.
Otherwise, in order to prevent herself from dragging Lorne down, she would have gone back long ago.
When he returned to his bedroom, it was already 3:30 in the morning. Fortunately, tomorrow morning was a Sunday.
This also meant that he could have a good sleep tonight.
Lorne, who was lying on the bed, closed his eyes.
Soon, the sound of breathing could be heard in the quiet bedroom.
This book comes from：m.funovel.com。