Gryffindor Faction

Malfoy's classroom rampage and his subsequent roaring in the eighth-floor corridor of the castle became the talk of the students during dinner.

"Don't be afraid, Quirrell."

Rarely, Professor McGonagall came to comfort Voldemort. "The Headmaster will protect you, and the Professors will support you."

"Malfoy has nothing but filth and the stench of money. Don't be afraid of him, take him on," Professor Kettleburn said from the side, drawing a displeased glare from Professor McGonagall.

"It's better to be cautious, Quirrell. Don't cause any more trouble recently," Professor Flitwick said sternly—he felt his student had a serious tendency towards Gryffindor-like behavior.

Facing various opinions, Voldemort could only smile bitterly and nod, but he still quietly gave Professor Kettleburn a thumbs-up.

"Professor, the Headmaster wants to see you."

Percy arrived at the staff table, bringing him "good" news. "The Headmaster will fully support you. I asked him, and he made his stance clear."

"Thank you."

Voldemort smiled as he finished the last bite of his meat pie and got up from the classroom dining table.

"Professor Quirrell is so cool."

Ron stared at Quirrell as he left the dining hall, his eyes full of admiration. "If I didn't know he was from Ravenclaw, I would have thought he was a Gryffindor."

"He saved me," Harry said. "At Gringotts."

This caused people nearby to look at him in surprise, and Harry's cheeks flushed from their gazes—he was a shy child, always had been.

"Tell us, Harry, you've never mentioned this before." The twins ran over.

"Yeah, maybe we've wronged Professor Quirrell. Harry, tell everyone," the other twin added.

Even Hermione, who was usually proud and didn't like talking to underachievers, couldn't help but move her chair closer to Harry.

"It... it's about that Gringotts incident..."

Harry began to recount, stammering, while the others listened curiously. Only the Weasley children occasionally let out gasps, adding color to Harry's plain narrative.

Percy had already come over. At first, he wanted to stop the chaotic scene, but when he heard it was about Quirrell, he immediately fell silent and leaned in to listen.

"Just like this afternoon, Headmaster Dumbledore suddenly appeared and ended everything. When I opened my eyes, the ground was magnified before me."

Harry was also a little emotional. He lowered his head, looking level with the tabletop.

"At that moment, my face was this close to the ground, and then I heard a roar, 'Accio Harry Potter'."

"It was the Accio charm," one of the twins said. "It must have been Professor Quirrell, right?"

"Yes, it was the Professor."

Harry's cheeks flushed with excitement. "I felt something pulling me. Hagrid let go, and I flew out, crashing straight into the Professor, and then the Professor used the Levitation Charm to stop me."

"The Professor is amazing," Hermione couldn't help but exclaim.

Everyone turned their gaze to the proud little girl, making Hermione a bit embarrassed, but she lifted her chin as if nothing had happened.

Ron pouted and looked at Harry. "He saved you twice, didn't he?"

"Yes."

Harry nodded. "Once when I was unconscious, but Hagrid told me. The other time I saw very clearly, and... afterwards, the Professor accompanied me while I bought things."

"You saw Malfoy there, and you told me the Professor saw him too?" Ron asked.

"Yes, I saw him through the window talking to Malfoy's father. Maybe there was already a conflict then, or maybe it was because of me."

Little Harry felt guilty; he was indeed a good child, always blaming himself for problems.

"Don't worry about the Professor."

Percy suddenly spoke, startling the twin brothers. "Headmaster Dumbledore will protect him. He did nothing wrong, we all know that."

"Of course."

Rarely, the twin brothers were the first to agree, which surprised even Percy—his two brothers had always opposed his opinions before.

"And, Percy, the Professor also protected you."

"Yes, at least you don't have trouble now."

The twins' words immediately made Percy's face darken—as expected, he couldn't get any good words out of these two brothers.

"Disperse. Those with evening classes, go to your classes. Those without, don't cause a ruckus in the dining hall," Percy said with a dark expression before leaving.

The twin brothers looked at his retreating back and smirked, as if they had achieved a great victory.

"The Professor will be alright, right?" Hermione suddenly asked in a small voice.

"Why do you care so much about him?" Ron jumped out. "Are you trying to butter up another teacher?"

Hermione's face instantly darkened. She ate the last bite of her sausage and got up to leave.

The twin brothers exchanged glances, then burst into laughter at Ron.

The first and second-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class at Hogwarts was held that evening.

When Voldemort walked into the classroom, he mistook the students for Ravenclaw students attending class again—the children were sitting obediently, looking at him with eager faces, which was far too unlike young lions.

"Professor Quirrell, the Headmaster isn't going to expel you, is he?" Harry Potter was the first to speak, voicing the thoughts of all the children.

"Of course."

Voldemort nodded affirmatively and said, "It's definitely wrong to punish students with magic, but if you've read Magical History thoroughly, you'll know this isn't a big deal."

The young lions let out a collective sigh of relief. They had already heard about the Gringotts heist from the twin brothers, which filled them with reverence for Voldemort.

Whether it was battling a horde of demons or saving Harry, it was magical and brave enough, and Gryffindor children had always admired such lone heroes.

"Alright, first-year students, go to the other side. Gabriel Truman, a sixth-year Prefect from Hufflepuff House, will teach you. I hope you'll be gentle with him, unlike Slytherin House."

Voldemort's words caused the students to burst into laughter. Ron was the first to clamor, "We won't be like that," followed by more affirmations.

Even Hermione, who was usually unsociable, smiled and loudly agreed.

"Truman, it looks like your class will be easier," Voldemort said to his assistant, then called the second-year students to his side, preparing to begin the lesson.

The evening class passed in a relaxed and pleasant atmosphere. Voldemort was in a very good mood. He even specifically covered the format and methods of essay writing at the end of the lesson.

Thanks to Hermione's inquiry, he provided such instruction to all the first-year newcomers.

"Professor Quirrell, may I ask you to teach us the method to make magic stop in mid-air?" first-year Hermione asked him in class.

This was an ability that couldn't be taught. Voldemort could only refuse helplessly, but he explained the characteristics of magic to the children—everyone had their own magical characteristics, which they needed to discover themselves.

Voldemort had some unique insights into this. He told the children about Dumbledore's Transfiguration, his own magic stopping, and Snape's sharp magic.

These characteristics were either related to personality or to the wizard's abilities, and they were not immutable.

Although the children were disappointed that they couldn't learn immediately, they were still immersed in this magical theory—everyone wanted to be unique, without exception.

Even Truman, a sixth-year, expressed his thanks after class, saying he had benefited greatly.

"As a Professor, I'm also very happy to be able to pass on my knowledge," Voldemort said with a smile as he bid farewell to Truman and the little lions.

On the way back to the office, students kept greeting him.

It seemed that because of the Draco incident, he had gained recognition among the students, and even some Slytherins respected him more.

"The students' respect is secondary; acceptance from the Gryffindor faction is the most important thing."

Thinking of Dumbledore's words at dinner, Voldemort felt an irrepressible excitement.

"Don't be afraid, Quirrell. As long as I'm at Hogwarts for one day, you'll remain in the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. That's my promise to you."

When Dumbledore made his solemn promise to him through his half-moon spectacles, the joy of "infiltrating the enemy's ranks" that arose in Voldemort's heart made him uncontrollably excited.

If it weren't for the fact that he was sitting opposite the greatest white wizard, he would have done a celebratory slide right then and there.