Since Quirrell Was So Terrible, They Might as Well Study on Their Own (Two Chapters in One)

After temporarily making peace with Snape, Ezio got what he wanted.

Threatening Snape with Harry had been a little despicable, but the process didn't matter. The result did.

In that regard, Ezio was a proper Slytherin.

After a brief break, their second class was about to begin. Almost every young wizard, except Ezio, was looking forward to their upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

The classroom was on the castle's third floor. It was a spacious, tiered room, with plenty of space at the front for the professor to demonstrate things using whatever teaching aids he had.

Unfortunately, the arrangements that might once have been useful wouldn't be of any use this year.

Unlike the other professors, Quirrell had already arrived before most of the young wizards. He sat in his chair, giving them an awkward, somewhat unnatural smile. His body was stiff, as if he didn't know what to do with his hands.

Quirrell had been an outstanding Ravenclaw student. He had excelled at school, and that was precisely why he had been given the position.

But it was a shame that the Quirrell who had returned to Hogwarts was nothing like the student he had once been. He had originally been a good student who was merely somewhat shy, but loved studying magic and was enthusiastic about putting it into practice. But now...

The pungent, overpowering smell of garlic assaulted everyone's noses, but the worst part came after the lesson began.

"H-hello... h-hello..." Quirrell rose from his chair and stammered as the lesson began. He didn't take attendance—perhaps he knew it would be too difficult for him. At the rate he was speaking, he'd finish taking attendance right around the time class ended.

Slytherin had Defense Against the Dark Arts with Ravenclaw. Beside Ezio and Harry, Hermione sat straight and proper, dressed in a uniform cloak trimmed in Ravenclaw blue. Having been thoroughly humbled on the train, where she'd been given the cold shoulder, Hermione had vowed to outdo Ezio. The studious Ravenclaws were her first choice. After all, Ravenclaw had its own little library, containing books that weren't even in the main library—books left behind by older students.

"O-open... open... your books... to the f-first... first chapter."

Quirrell swallowed hard. With dozens of eyes fixed on him, his nervousness was plain to see—he was even more anxious than he'd been before class.

"We'll... we'll... learn... get to know..." He suddenly stopped, then turned around awkwardly and picked up the textbook from the lectern, opening it to the first page.

Many of the young wizards rolled their eyes. Their professor seemed to have forgotten what he was supposed to teach in the first lesson.

A few quiet murmurs rose in the classroom. Some students whispered to each other, but Quirrell didn't stop them—or perhaps he was simply powerless to do so.

Fortunately, Slytherins and Ravenclaws weren't as curious as Gryffindors. They wouldn't ask things like, "Why do you smell so strongly of garlic, Professor?" in the common room and then go poking around into his business.

Once he had opened the book, Quirrell seemed to calm down a little. He began to read from it, stuttering all the while, like a broken record. He stumbled through dry passages that everyone could read for themselves. As a first-year Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, it didn't have much to offer. It went over the dangers of Dark Magic and introduced various common household pests and small creatures, such as Doxies and Garden Gnomes.

After five or six minutes, Quirrell finally finished reading the first section of the first chapter. He wiped the sweat from his face and gave them another awkward smile.

Just as Quirrell picked up his cup and took a sip of water to soothe his throat, Ezio, who had very politely endured several minutes of this dreadful lesson, stood up.

"D-did... you... want... something?" Quirrell stammered, looking at Ezio.

"I'd like to know something," Ezio said calmly. He hadn't expected much from the start, so he wasn't disappointed. The side effects of being possessed by Voldemort were simply too severe. They had reduced a man who might have been their teacher to his current state, both mentally and physically crippled.

"Did we come to Defense Against the Dark Arts just to listen to you stumble through the textbook?"

Ezio fixed Quirrell with a cold, indifferent stare. It seemed to frighten him. His hand went slack, and the cup hit the floor with a clatter.

Every eye in the room turned toward the noise.

"C-certainly... n-not... not... perhaps... I..."

Quirrell swallowed, flustered on the lectern. He waved his hands, trying to say something, but didn't know what to say.

"So you're wasting my time, then. Is that it?"

Ezio shook his head and left his seat.

"If you can't teach us anything and can only stumble through the textbook..."

"Everyone from Slytherin." Ezio turned toward the seats beside him. "Let's go. There's no point wasting time here. We'll find a room with fresh air and study the first chapter on our own. Everyone can hand Professor Quirrell a reading summary by next week."

"I think," Ezio continued, turning his head toward Quirrell, who was fiddling with his fingers, unsure where to put his hands, "this will ease your burden and help us learn more efficiently. You don't have any objections, do you?"

The Slytherin snakes nearby gave a burst of snickers. Quirrell's face turned bright red, and he stammered wordlessly. At a glance, it looked as if Ezio were leading the students in bullying an idiot.

"Ezio, how can you do that?"

Hermione, a diligent student, spoke up indignantly. There was one thing she was very good at: she always dared to say what others wouldn't.

"If you like his teaching style, I don't mind leaving you as his only audience. You've already memorized the textbook, haven't you, Hermione? Why not go up to the lectern and read it for Quirrell? At least that would make the lesson move faster."

"Spend enough time with an idiot, and you'll get stupid."

Ezio spoke without the slightest courtesy. The little snakes all stood and followed him. Now that someone had taken the lead, of course they didn't want to stay and be marinated in the smell of garlic.

"Y-you..." This public humiliation, without the slightest consideration for his feelings, struck Quirrell's already tormented heart. He pointed at Ezio, trembling.

"What's wrong? Have you finally figured out how to teach us something worthwhile?"

When he was almost at the door, Ezio turned around and took a few steps forward. "If so, I don't mind offering you a sincere apology. But you'll have to teach us something worthwhile, not just read from the book. I don't think anyone in this classroom has trouble recognizing the words in it, do you?"

Ezio turned to the little snakes. "Crabbe, Goyle!"

The two hulking idiots froze when he called their names, then answered loudly, "Yes!"

After Ezio had knocked them out and let them sleep it off that day, the two big idiots had realized, dim as they were, that Ezio wasn't someone they could afford to provoke. Marcus, who was several times bulkier than they were, had been knocked down in an instant and left writhing on the floor like a maggot. They didn't want to get beaten up.

"Can you read?"

"I think..." The two hulking boys glanced at each other, then nodded hesitantly. "I think so."

"Well, Professor Quirrell? Have you figured out how to teach us our first lesson?"

Ezio fixed him with an unwavering stare. Quirrell felt uncomfortable all over, as if someone were tracing a knife over him, deciding which piece of flesh to cut away.

Everything Quirrell was doing was deliberate. Although Voldemort had possessed him, things weren't truly as bad as they seemed. But Quirrell had to play the fool so he could keep the lowest possible profile. When everyone thought he was useless, fewer people would suspect that certain things had anything to do with him.

Quirrell wanted to prove himself, but the thing stuck to the back of his head wouldn't let him. The more attention he drew, the more restricted he was. In fact, what Ezio was doing now suited the Voldemort clinging to the back of his head just fine.

"Looks like you agree with my proposal, Professor."

After waiting a few seconds, Ezio spoke again. "Ravenclaws can come too, if you don't want to stay here and keep company with the garlic."

Ezio left the classroom, followed by the Slytherin snakes and a few Ravenclaw eagles who didn't want to deal with an idiot and would rather find somewhere to study on their own.

"Since you've chosen to leave..."

After walking a little way, Ezio slowed and spoke to the people behind him. "That means you're willing to follow my arrangements. Defense Against the Dark Arts is an important subject, but first-year material isn't complicated. Anyone who's opened the book knows that. But that's no reason not to study it. I hope you remember that."

"I didn't lead you out of the classroom so you could skip class. I want you to remember that. If anyone fools around in the new classroom instead of doing what I've assigned, I'll show you what it means to regret your choices."

His voice was icy. The words sent shivers down their spines. Ezio always had a way of making people feel oppressed. It came from the cold indifference he exuded, as if he were looking at a corpse. No one wanted to be watched by those eyes.

"Before we enter the new classroom, you have one last chance to turn back. At least in that garlic-filled room, Quirrell won't care whether you sleep or let your mind wander."

Ezio stopped outside an empty classroom and turned to face them.

No one moved. Even Crabbe and Goyle, who definitely wouldn't learn a thing, stayed put. They actually wanted to go back, since Ezio had said Quirrell wouldn't care if they slept. But they were afraid Ezio would drag them out and beat them. Falling into a peaceful slumber in the corridor sounded terrifying.

"Good. Then go in."

The empty classroom was cluttered with unused desks and chairs, and a thick layer of dust covered everything. Hogwarts had countless unused rooms like this. The place was so enormous that even if magic expanded its space to hold ten times its current number of students, it wouldn't feel crowded at all.

As the young wizards watched, Ezio drew his wand and waved it a few times. The dust was swept away, the damaged desks and chairs were repaired and arranged neatly, and in the space of a few breaths, the filthy classroom was clean. The curtains were drawn back, and sunlight poured in. The warm afternoon light made the room pleasantly comfortable, while a gentle breeze drifted through. It was an ideal room for studying on their own.

Once everyone had taken a seat, Ezio stood at the lectern.

"Now, let me explain. From now on, we'll study on our own here during Defense Against the Dark Arts. That won't continue forever. Defense Against the Dark Arts, as the name suggests, is meant to teach us how to respond properly to the Dark wizards, Dark Magic, and dangerous creatures in the Wizarding World. The purpose of the subject is to teach us how to resist these unknown threats and protect ourselves."

"That's why this class exists. But for various reasons, Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts classes have been very unstable for a long time, with professors of wildly varying ability. I'm not surprised that someone like Quirrell managed to slip in this year."

"Did You-Know-Who curse the subject?" asked a blond Ravenclaw boy, raising his hand.

"Yes. There's a rumor that Voldemort once wanted to teach at Hogwarts, but Professor Dumbledore turned him down. Professor Dumbledore believed his motives for coming to Hogwarts weren't pure. What happened afterward proved that if Voldemort had come to Hogwarts, he was more likely to train his followers than teach."

At the mention of Voldemort, a cold draft seemed to sweep through the classroom, but Ezio didn't care. He wasn't concerned with how the young wizards reacted.

"If you don't want Voldemort to kill you in the street while you're out shopping someday, I hope you'll take your Defense Against the Dark Arts studies seriously."

Ezio's warning made them behave even more obediently.

"Since you've only just begun studying magic, we'll spend the first month studying the textbook on our own. You'll hand in a reading summary every week. If your brain can't handle the assignments I give you, then certain people had better clear out before the next study session. Otherwise, I'll hang you up and make you eat the textbook, one page at a time. If there are still words on the parchment when you pass it, I'll make you absorb them all over again."

A few people shuddered. They swore they'd stay out of Ezio's sight from the next class onward and never do anything to provoke him.

"One month to study the textbook. It won't be difficult. In the second month, once we've all started learning spells, our Defense Against the Dark Arts study sessions will include spell practice. Some of you might think that first-year spells have no use in facing danger or protecting yourselves, but I'm telling you that's wrong."

"Wingardium Leviosa." Ezio pointed his wand at the lectern. "Descendo!"

With a dull THUD, the sturdy-looking old lectern crashed to the floor, becoming a pile of twisted, scattered wood. Many of them brightened at the sight, excitement rising in their eyes.

"They're all first-year spells, but if you learn how to use them properly, they can protect you in certain situations."

"No more whispering. If anyone fails to meet my standards after a month, they can clear out too."

The excited murmuring that had only just started came to an abrupt halt. Looking at Ezio, who stood at the lectern more severe than many professors, they chose to nod obediently. A professor might not dare to really hit them, but they firmly believed Ezio would.