The Strange Professor

On Hogwarts's class schedule, "Defense Against the Dark Arts" had always been the most anticipated subject for first-years. It was mysterious, dangerous, and filled with the romanticism of heroism—after all, who wouldn't want to learn how to fight creatures like Red Caps and Grindylows, or werewolves, or even the legendary Dark Lord?

Before class, the first-years from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were already engaged in lively discussion in the corridor.

"My dad said that when he was at school, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was a retired Auror!" Hufflepuff's Brayden Cole puffed out his chest, a look of pride on his face. "The very first lesson that teacher gave was the Disarming Charm, and he sent a Hinkypunk flying three meters away on the spot!"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Kaisen Moretti scoffed dismissively. "My uncle studies fire dragons in Romania. He says real defense against Dark Magic isn't about spells, but about prediction and intuition. He saved an entire village from a horde of ghouls by himself."

"You're bragging!" Edgar Finch pushed up his glasses, his tone full of doubt. "Ghouls aren't that easy to deal with! My grandma said you can't even disperse them with a wand; you need silver powder."

"I bet our professor will be super cool!" another Hufflepuff girl exclaimed excitedly. "Maybe they even fought in the war against Voldemort!"

Yulian walked quietly at the edge of the crowd, listening to these naive discussions, but a block of ice seemed to press down on his heart. He knew the truth—what they were about to face wasn't some heroic Auror or legendary Wizard, but a cowardly and insidious puppet possessed by the most evil Dark Lord in history.

He deliberately slowed his pace, trying to appear inconspicuous, even controlling his breathing with extreme steadiness. He couldn't attract any attention, especially not from whatever was hiding behind that turban.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was located on the third floor, on the shady side of the castle. When they pushed open the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, a strong, suffocating smell of garlic hit them, almost making it impossible to breathe.

The classroom curtains were tightly drawn, the light dim. The walls were covered with all sorts of strange amulets, and several heavy braids of garlic hung from the ceiling, swaying gently in the breeze.

They saw a thin man standing behind the lectern, wrapped in a huge, gaudy purple turban.

At this moment, he had his back to the door, wiping his forehead with a large handkerchief.

When the students entered, he didn't immediately turn to the door. He waited until most of the students had entered the classroom and taken their seats, then turned to face the blackboard and began writing.

Only after everyone was seated did he slowly turn to face them.

This professor's face was as pale as paper, his eyes darting nervously.

"W-welcome," he stammered, his voice weak and trembling. "I am your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Qu-Quirinus Quirrell."

A wave of hushed whispers immediately rippled through the classroom.

"This is the professor?" Justin, in the front row, turned his head, his face full of disappointment, and muttered softly, "He looks... like he might faint at any moment."

"This garlic smell is too strong!" Kaisen wrinkled his nose, fanning the air with his hand.

Yulian lowered his gaze, remaining impassive.

He knew the garlic was just Quirrell's clumsy attempt to mask Voldemort's scent, and an external manifestation of his inner fear. He involuntarily shrank back, trying to minimize his presence.

Professor Quirrell seemed to sense the students' doubts. He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound steadier. "I know... I may look a bit... unusual. This is to ward off vampires..."

"Can this really keep vampires away?" Edgar lowered his voice.

"Who knows," Kaisen chuckled.

Quirrell continued his rambling from the lectern. "...But please believe me, my research into Dark Magic is very extensive. I lived alone in the Black Forest of Albania for a year, tracking and documenting countless dark creatures... The dark power there... is very... very strong."

As he said this, his gaze became unusually deep for a moment, as if looking through the classroom walls to some distant and terrifying place. Yulian's heart tightened—Albania, the very place where Voldemort's wandering soul had fled.

Perhaps this sentence wasn't something Quirrell himself wanted to say.

The lecture officially began. Professor Quirrell, with trembling hands, opened the textbook and stammered, "T-today, we will learn how to identify the m-most basic dark creatures—Red Caps."

His teaching was dry and boring, mostly reading from the book, his language disjointed and interrupted by his own coughing fits. The students, who had initially been full of anticipation, quickly lost interest. Some began to secretly flip through other books, while others idly fiddled with their wands.

At this moment, Yulian suddenly felt a gaze sweep over him. It wasn't from Professor Quirrell's nervously blinking eyes, but from behind his turban—a cold, viscous gaze filled with intense scrutiny, like a venomous snake, silently coiling around him.

He knew it was Voldemort.

Yulian's heart skipped a beat, but he showed nothing on his face, merely lowering his head slightly, blending into the crowd.

He didn't want to become a target. This world had Dumbledore and Harry Potter to handle things anyway.

The lecture proceeded uneventfully. Professor Quirrell's voice trembled as he explained the habits and weaknesses of Red Caps, occasionally interrupted by his own sudden coughs.

However, his gaze frequently drifted past the other students, landing on Lyria.

"L-Miss Lyria," Professor Quirrell suddenly called her name, a hint of barely perceptible urgency in his voice. "I heard you are from the distant North? The nature magic there... is very unique?"

Lyria stood up, her long golden hair glowing softly in the dim light. She nodded and replied calmly, "Yes, Professor. The magic of the North is closely connected to the land, the forests, and the seasons."

"L-land?" Professor Quirrell pressed, leaning forward slightly. "How fascinating. Then... on that land, have there been any ancient magics or ruins passed down, perhaps ancient stone tablets? I mean, maybe there are unique, lost runes or... sources of power?"

The classroom fell silent. Yulian's heart sank. Stone tablets? Could it be related to what Lyria had in her package? He subtly glanced at Lyria, his eyes full of warning, but Lyria didn't notice.

Lyria seemed unaware of the danger of the question. She thought for a moment and replied, "There are indeed many ancient ruins in the North, and some stone tablets are inscribed with the writings of the ancient people. But most of them were used for sacrifices or recording history; they don't possess any special power."

Her tone was sincere and frank, clearly not lying.

"Oh, o-of course..." Professor Quirrell muttered in disappointment, but quickly rallied. "H-how very interesting. Your knowledge is very... valuable. If you have any questions about magic in the future, feel free to come discuss them with me. I am very, very interested in these things."

The dismissal bell rang, and the students, relieved, packed up their books. Professor Quirrell hurried out of the classroom as if chased by a ghost.

"He seems really strange," a Hufflepuff girl whispered. "He stutters, sure, but why does he keep staring at Lyria?"

Yulian walked over to Lyria and lowered his voice, "Don't trust him."

Lyria turned her head, a hint of confusion in her ice-blue eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Yulian hesitated, but then said, "Quirrell is... a bit strange. It's best to keep your distance."

"Why would you question the professor? He's interested in nature magic, what's wrong with that? Professor McGonagall is too, isn't she?"

"There are many kinds of interest," Yulian's tone was serious. "I feel like his 'interest' is more like searching for something. Did you bring anything with you to Hogwarts?"

"How did you know!?" Lyria took a step back in surprise. "I already gave it to Dumbledore... No, what are you talking about? I didn't bring anything." As she spoke, Lyria's gaze towards Yulian became guarded.