Compared to those previous pathfinding experiences, the journey from the hospital lobby to the ward could be described as smooth sailing.

The "paper butterfly" formed by goblin magic looked no different from Professor Flitwick's magic. However, Ellena noticed that it would hover in mid-air in certain situations to wait for them, rather than mechanically flying forward along the route.

Interesting, it possesses a certain degree of basic programmed logic?

Ellena noted it silently in her heart, planning to include this aspect in her considerations later.

In the magical world, goblin magic, apart from being more obscure and mysterious in form, is generally considered to be a civilization comparable to human spells. The magical items crafted by goblin craftsmanship still maintain their mystery to this day.

Undoubtedly, they are better at attaching magic to industry and equipment than to combat.

Even if the object is just an ordinary piece of paper.

A few minutes later, the paper butterfly stopped in front of an ordinary ward. After circling twice, the magic on it quickly dissipated and disappeared, turning back into an ordinary square piece of paper, which fluttered down into the trash can next to the ward door.

"It seems like this is the place, Professor Quirrell's room."

Ellena looked up and glanced at the sign on the door, gradually putting away the smile on her face.

[“Priority Care” - Quirinus Quirrell Ward: Magical Collapse, Sequelae of Unknown Spells.]

Perhaps hearing the noise outside the door, a slightly plump middle-aged witch opened the door and walked out.

This middle-aged witch, whose smile was as kind as a mother's, was wearing a green robe symbolizing a healer, and the name tag on her chest indicated her identity: Head Healer, Elizabeth Anderson.

"Oh, you've come at the right time. Quirrell just woke up."

"That's great news, but... what does the description on the door mean?"

Ellena said, pointing to the words on the sign, and asked softly, "Magical collapse, sequelae... these don't sound like very good things, so what is Professor Quirrell's condition now?"

The smile on Elizabeth Anderson's face gradually disappeared. She stared at Ellena for a while, and then said.

"Not too good. Although, compared to others in this area, regaining consciousness is actually considered incredibly lucky. But for him personally, it may take time to adjust to... well... certain things that were lost."

"Hmm... things that were lost?" Hannah said, "Was anything cut off during the treatment, Professor?"

She was still immersed in the stories Ellena had told along the way, such as the treatment methods of Muggle doctors.

"Cut off?" Elizabeth shook her head, a little puzzled. "We are healers, not lunatics."

Then the witch turned her head to look at Grindelwald standing behind the girls, and her expression suddenly became frighteningly solemn.

"P- er, I mean, Mr. Apocalyps, Quirinus Quirrell may never be able to return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to teach. Certain cursed forces flowing in his blood saved his life on the one hand, and left irreversible scars on the other – he survived, but almost completely lost his magical abilities."

"I heard about it, so Dumbledore asked me to come and see him."

Grindelwald nodded slowly, a complex look flashed in his eyes, and said softly.

A normal wizard's body cannot withstand two souls. When Quirinus Quirrell fought against two Dark Lords in the Forbidden Forest, the young wizard's body was already on the verge of collapse. If it weren't for the magical reactions of unicorn blood and Horcrux immortality, the young man would have died the moment Voldemort abandoned Quirrell.

In his original judgment, Quirinus Quirrell might become a living dead person forever.

But if this young wizard suddenly woke up...

A strange light flashed in Grindelwald's eyes, and the smile on his face became more and more amiable.

"Excuse me, Ms. Anderson, can I talk to Professor Quirrell for a while first? Alone."

"Of course, that would be wonderful."

Elizabeth Anderson agreed, quickly stepped aside, and continued.

"To be honest, I was just about to write to Hogwarts for help. You know, he hasn't said a few words since he woke up. Such a young professor, he should be very talented. It's such a pity, isn't it?"

"Perhaps that's life? There will always be accidents in this world..."

Grindelwald shrugged indifferently, looking over the witch's shoulder and into the room.

"Oh, right! Ellena, come in with me – after all, you were once Quirrell's favorite student. Now that Quirinus has finally woken up, I think it would be best if you could chat with him too."

"But I..."

Ellena shrank back a little, glancing at the dangerous glint in Grindelwald's eyes.

As the third-generation Dark Lord, she could naturally vaguely guess what the old wizard was planning. Whether it was killing people to silence them, searching for memories, or cleaning up the mess, in short, this was destined not to be a "heartwarming" conversation.

However, in the narrow corridor, Ellena didn't have much room to shrink back.

Elizabeth Anderson smiled and reached out, and with the help of the other girls, pushed her into the door.

"Listen to Mr. Apocalyps, child, your professor needs you..."

...

The ward was more spacious than it looked from the outside, but the lighting wasn't very good.

There was only a narrow window high on the wall on the left side of the door. Because she was too short, Ellena couldn't be sure if it was a real window or just a magical moving picture.

The light in the room was mainly provided by a crystal bubble gathered in the center of the ceiling, filled with magical candles.

Hanging on the oak-paneled wall was a rather strange bird-beak mask, instead of portraits of some famous healers in the magical world like other magical hospitals, giving it a somewhat unspeakable eerie atmosphere.

As the ward door closed, only the three of them remained in the room.

Quirinus Quirrell's bed was placed at the back of the room, directly facing the small window.

Ellena saw that Professor Quirrell's face seemed paler than before. The purple turban that had been wrapped around the man's head had been taken off and neatly folded into a stack, placed on a chair not far from the bed.

Just as Ellena walked into the room, Quirrell turned his head, a trace of fluctuation appearing in his wooden eyes.

"Good evening," Quirinus Quirrell said softly in a hoarse voice, "Professor Apocalyps, Miss Kaslana. I'm sorry, I don't know where the Dark Lord went – if you want to ask anything, feel free to ask."

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