"...?"
Professor Quirrell froze for two seconds before finally managing to react.
His eyes widened, his smile stiffened, and he stared in disbelief at Ethan's calm face, almost ready to doubt his own ears.
What had Ethan just said?
That he should be paid for listening to this lesson?
Th-this was outrageous!
As soon as Ethan finished speaking, the whole class fell silent.
The students playing Wizard's Chess stopped, and the ones chatting stopped too. Everyone turned to stare at him, dumbfounded.
Two seconds later.
The whole class sat up straight, their eyes bursting with excitement!
This lesson was a joint class for Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.
Ron clenched his Wizard's Chess set in excitement. Ignoring the knight grumbling indignantly in his hand, he whispered,
"Merlin's triangular underpants! Ethan said what I've been wanting to say all along! There's no point to this class at all! Give us our money back!"
Harry's mouth twitched.
It wasn't as if you paid attention in the other classes, either.
Though Harry was a little more level-headed than his friend, he had to admit he was excited too.
Harry looked at Ethan, his eyes full of deep admiration and envy.
Even if Ethan was a little creepy, he always managed to do the things other people didn't dare to do, or only thought about doing.
He was so brave.
Ethan should have been in Gryffindor—
Oh, you say he isn't righteous?
Never mind, then.
Meanwhile.
Ethan looked straight into Professor Quirrell's trembling eyes, smiled faintly, and picked up his textbook.
"Disarming Charms, defensive spells, counter-jinxes, and how to protect ourselves when we encounter evil creatures and forces. You haven't taught us a single one of them."
"A brand-new copy of Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection costs several Galleons. Even secondhand copies often cost more than ten Silver Sickles."
"Of course, it's not that I begrudge the money. I'm just concerned about the time."
"We can only stay at Hogwarts for seven years. At the rate you're teaching us, we'll have wasted an entire year. That's a full seventh of our time."
"Wasting someone else's time is wasting their life. Professor Quirrell, you're slowly murdering us!"
His words rang out across the classroom with emphatic force.
Most of the Ravenclaws nodded in agreement, lifting their eyes from their assignments or textbooks to look at Ethan.
At that moment, Ethan had voiced what they were all thinking!
The more they had looked forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts, the more disappointed they were now.
To say nothing of having to endure the double torment of the garlic smell and his stammering.
Many Ravenclaws even brought earplugs to class!
That alone proved how much of a farce this lesson was.
"Heh, hehehe!"
Professor Quirrell let out two nervous laughs, his shoulders twitching.
A trace of gloom passed through his eyes, unnoticed by anyone.
Damn brat... what an arrogant little runt.
Did he know which distinguished gentleman Quirrell served?
Did he know who the Dark Lord, once feared by the entire wizarding world, was inhabiting now?!
With that big mouth of his, when he learned the truth, he'd probably be too terrified even to scream!
And yet.
Though he longed to hit Ethan with a Killing Curse and shut him up for good, Quirrell was still pretending to be someone else under Dumbledore's watchful eye. He naturally couldn't do that.
All he could do was put on a simple-minded, kindly act and stammer, "Th-then, Mr. Vincent, what do you th-think I should do?"
Ethan replied, "Either pay us for attending your lessons every time, or teach properly."
Voldemort must have chosen Quirrell for a reason. It couldn't have been because of his stutter.
Quirrell was the one who had broken into Gringotts and tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone.
He clearly had some skill, and must know quite a lot.
"As for the fee... let me think. One Galleon per person per lesson should do."
At that, Ron's upper body snapped upright, his eyes shining.
Hearing that figure, Quirrell's mouth twitched. His fingers couldn't help picking at the pocket where he kept his wand.
One Galleon per person per lesson?!
Why not just rob us?!
"Th-that, Mr. Vincent, I'll teach properly, so-so please sit down first..."
Ron slumped back down in disappointment.
However.
After hearing that, Ethan didn't sit down. Instead, he continued,
"That's great, then. Professor Quirrell, I happen to have a question I don't understand."
Professor Quirrell: "..."
You ****!
"P-please ask..."
"I'd like to know," Ethan said, enunciating each word, "who Helga is."
Last night, he had stepped into the Mirror of Erised and found a hidden location on the Path of Moonlit Journey—
[Helga's Abandoned Mansion].
A treasure was hidden there.
Ethan needed to learn more about Helga.
Of course, he would also look for information in the library. But considering how the Three Little Ones had spent over half a term researching Nicolas Flamel in the original story, Ethan figured it would be better to ask a professor first.
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger whipped her head around.
She had never heard the name "Helga," either.
But what interested Hermione more was why Ethan had asked the question.
Had a professor revealed something about the final exam to him?
Hermione pricked up her ears, her gaze sharpening.
"H-Helga?"
Professor Quirrell's expression had clearly stiffened.
He could feel the terrifying presence at the back of his head slowly waking.
"This isn't knowledge a first-year wizard should be learning... It's too dangerous, hehehe!"
As though he'd been shocked, Quirrell let out two nervous laughs.
Ethan narrowed his eyes, then suddenly put on an utterly innocent smile. "Is that so? What a shame..."
Quirrell breathed a sigh of relief. "We'll talk about it when you're in an upper year—"
Ethan said, "Draco Malfoy and I happen to be very good friends."
Quirrell: "Huh?"
He froze again, then his pupils contracted as though he'd realized what Ethan was about to say.
"So—"
Ethan tilted his head and smiled pleasantly.
"I can ask the Malfoy family to have you transferred from Hogwarts. I imagine that if a School Governor makes a strong enough request, dismissing a professor who isn't suited to his position shouldn't be difficult."
"What's more, I've heard that Mr. Lucius Malfoy is already very unhappy with you."
"Isn't that right, Professor Quirrell?"
Hagrid was a close confidant of Headmaster Dumbledore's, which was why he'd been able to stay on after one mishap after another.
And even he had gone in and out of Azkaban several times.
You're just a lowly Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. You don't teach properly, and you're strange besides. What makes you think Headmaster Dumbledore would protect you?
Once your identity is exposed, won't you be dragged straight to the Philosopher's Stone so Harry can level up at your expense?
"..."
Quirrell's mouth fell open. He was completely speechless.
Th-this brat actually dared to threaten him?! A professor?!
What made him even angrier was that he couldn't find anything to say in his own defense.
Malfoy, you deserve to die a thousand deaths.
The students in the room were just as stunned.
They'd seen brave people before, but never anyone this brave!
Even Malfoy himself, who was always so arrogant, had never threatened a professor to his face by flaunting his family connections!
Hermione turned her head in shock too, staring at Ethan with admiration in her eyes.
To get knowledge, he was willing to stop at nothing.
As expected of her strongest rival.
She had to learn that fearless spirit.
Hermione bit her lower lip, her fighting spirit blazing.
Quirrell trembled all over and forced an ugly, awkward smile.
Just then, a weak, hoarse voice sounded in his mind:
[Tell him... Tell him about the deeds of the outstanding Dark Wizard, Helga...]
[This child is very clever. His paintings possess a real and uncanny magic... Such a talent is unique and extremely precious...]
[Teach him, use him... Make his power your own!]
Before you continue