Sure! Here's a cleaned-up, grammatically correct version of your provided chapter text while maintaining the word count close to 1800 words. I'll also adjust the character names as you requested: "Xiao Ade" will be turned into "Archer" and "Bai Xian" into "Poison." Here's the polished chapter:
Chapter 27: Quirrell and Voldemort
Archer did not observe Quirrell too much; he and Hagrid only glanced at him briefly.
However, the anger in Archer's eyes was almost impossible to hide.
For Archer, who had been an orphan in both his past and present lives, family had always been the thing he cherished most.
Since he obtained the surname "Archer," he had always taken protecting his family as his greatest responsibility.
Yet, he had failed in this responsibility.
His sister remained in a coma.
And all of this was ultimately caused by Lord Voldemort.
Although the wizard who personally cast the Cruciatus Curse on his sister had quietly died in Azkaban, Archer still couldn't let go of his hatred.
Regarding Voldemort, Archer could neither understand nor accept the evil he had done.
He couldn't comprehend why anyone would be so enthusiastic about starting wars, creating fear, and oppressing others.
The world, in Archer's belief, should be peaceful and beautiful.
Thus, Lord Voldemort must be destroyed—completely and without mercy.
"Professor Archer?"
Hagrid patted the table in front of him, signaling Archer to come back to his senses. He always felt Archer's state had become a little strange.
"Ah, sorry, Hagrid," Archer retracted his gaze and forced a smile. "I was distracted. Where were we?"
Now was not the best time to strike at Lord Voldemort.
Even if he could destroy the weakened Voldemort currently parasitizing Quirrell, it would be useless. As long as the Horcruxes existed, Voldemort could return again and again.
He had to be uprooted completely.
"Quirinus Quirrell, Hogwarts' new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Hagrid said, frowning slightly. "Professor McGonagall mentioned him a few days ago. Said he had excellent grades when he studied at Hogwarts, solid theoretical knowledge, and was a typical Ravenclaw."
"Sounds promising," Archer muttered, taking a sip of mead.
But his mind was elsewhere.
Hagrid slowly shook his head. "Poor Professor Quirrell. You know, no Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts leaves unscathed. There's a curse on the position, they say."
Then, with a regretful sigh, he added, "Maybe Headmaster Dumbledore could teach the class himself—he must have a way to resist the curse. But obviously, he's far too busy for that."
Archer didn't understand why Quirrell would show up at the Leaky Cauldron at this time.
Voldemort was still nesting atop his head; wouldn't mingling in public be dangerous? If someone noticed, it could be disastrous.
Or maybe Quirrell was overconfident in his disguise. After all, his turban, which reeked of garlic, kept most people at a distance.
Archer noticed that no one was willing to approach Quirrell, likely because of that pungent smell.
Just then, Quirrell suddenly moved.
Archer and Hagrid both instinctively stopped their discussion and focused on him.
Quirrell turned his back to them and slowly stood up. Archer's heart began to pound, a wave of unease crashing over him.
A chill stabbed at his spine.
He is watching me.
Lord Voldemort is watching me!
Archer's palms broke out in cold sweat.
But Quirrell didn't turn around.
He simply walked out of the Leaky Cauldron, step by slow step.
By the time Archer came back to his senses, the door had already swung closed as new customers entered.
Hagrid didn't seem to notice Archer's tension and continued talking about other matters at Hogwarts.
But Archer was no longer fully present.
He was nearly certain Voldemort had just been sizing him up.
But why?
Both he and Hagrid had been observing Quirrell—why had Voldemort focused solely on him?
Could it be that Voldemort sensed the Tree of Wisdom was watching him?
If that was the case, Voldemort was far more dangerous than Archer had imagined.
No one had ever noticed the Tree of Wisdom's powers before.
Even Dumbledore hadn't realized it.
Hopefully, Archer thought grimly, he was just imagining things.
Quirrell did not return to the Leaky Cauldron after leaving.
Archer and Hagrid continued talking, mostly about dragons.
Though Hagrid spoke animatedly, Archer only half-listened, nodding along.
By the time Archer returned home, night had already fallen.
As he reached his door, he spotted a black shape hovering above him.
The shape swooped down and landed atop his mailbox.
It was an owl—a snowy owl.
Archer instantly knew it must be a wizard's pet; snowy owls were not native to England and only appeared in the Arctic.
Moreover, this one carried a long package.
"Is this for me?" Archer asked, taking the package from the owl's beak. "Thank you. Want a treat?"
After munching on the treat, the owl hooted softly and flew away, vanishing into the night sky.
Archer unwrapped the package and found a rectangular box, elegantly wrapped.
A small note was attached.
The note looked like it had been hastily torn from a notebook, with faint, messy scribbles visible on the back.
As soon as he saw the handwriting, Archer smiled.
It was Harry. He recognized that chaotic scrawl anywhere.
So this must be the gift Harry bought him.
Hagrid had mentioned earlier that Harry had picked up something special yesterday in Diagon Alley.
Carefully, Archer unwrapped the package, revealing an exquisite silver pocket watch.
Intricate patterns were etched into the surface—clearly expensive craftsmanship.
When he flipped open the cover, a line of text shimmered into view: "To the person I respect the most."
"A sly little gift," Archer chuckled softly.
He closed the watch, slipped it into his pocket, and felt his dark mood lighten just a bit.
The next day, around noon, Harry arrived at Archer's place as usual.
But this time, he was holding an old flower pot.
"Professor, is there something wrong with it?" Harry asked anxiously, setting the pot on the table. Inside was a Biting Cabbage plant. "I followed your instructions, used the potion while watering it. But look—it looks terrible! Is something wrong with it?"
Archer frowned, studying the plant carefully.
The cabbage's leaves drooped limply, and its green color had faded into a dull, sickly hue. It looked unhealthy, possibly dying.
"Shouldn't be," Archer muttered.
Until now, every plant that had used his special potion had flourished.
Either they grew faster, or they evolved unique characteristics.
"Eldra," he murmured, summoning the Tree of Wisdom to analyze the Biting Cabbage.
[Species: Biting Cabbage]
[Level: 1]
[Characteristic: Unknown]
[Status: Growing (99%), Malnutrition]
The data made Archer's brows knit even tighter.
Malnutrition? That didn't make sense. The potion should have provided ample nutrients.
Harry looked up at him, concern written all over his face.
"Did I mess up the dosage, Professor?"
Archer shook his head slowly. "No, Harry. You followed the method precisely, didn't you?"
Harry nodded firmly.
Archer tapped his fingers on the table, deep in thought.
"Poison might know more," he muttered.
Harry blinked in confusion. "Poison?"
"My assistant," Archer explained. "She specializes in identifying abnormal plant behaviors. I'll have her take a look."
He turned his attention back to the cabbage.
The Tree of Wisdom's analysis didn't indicate disease, nor any curse.
It was simply…malnourished.
But that shouldn't be possible with his potion in the mix.
"Harry," Archer said at last, "I need to run some tests. Leave the plant here for now."
Harry looked reluctant but finally nodded. "Okay, Professor. But please help it. I really like this one."
Archer gave him a reassuring smile. "I will."
After Harry left, Archer carried the flower pot into his lab, his mind racing.
This was no ordinary case of malnutrition.
Something else was at play—something subtle enough to evade even the Tree of Wisdom's initial scan.
Could Voldemort's dark influence be reaching this far already?
Archer clenched his fists.
If Voldemort was beginning to taint even the magical flora, then things were escalating faster than he had anticipated.