Quirrell's Wool Must Be Plucked, Tom's Too, Only Then Is It Sound

Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Lucien was in his second Defense class of the week, watching Quirrell stammer his way through the lesson while planning what he would do after class.

As soon as class ended, he would corner Quirrell—but he couldn't say it in the classroom. Too many eyes and ears.

This Defense Against the Dark Arts class was still as watered-down as ever. Quirrell had actually started talking about the origins and definition of Expelliarmus, but simply refused to explain how to use it.

Lucien couldn't help grumbling inwardly. How could a teacher not teach anything real, right, Quirrell—or should he say, Tom?

Another long class passed under Quirrell's slacking, and he grabbed his textbooks and fled the classroom at once.

Lucien followed him straight away.

Quirrell walked back to the office next door and was just about to pull the door shut.

A hand pressed against the door.

"Professor Quirrell, I have some questions about Defense Against the Dark Arts I'd like to ask."

Quirrell turned his head and saw a boy with short dark-blond hair staring at him with dark-green eyes.

"Er, s-sorry, the teacher has something, something to do. Next, next time."

As he spoke, Quirrell tried to close the door, but Lucien stopped him with one sentence.

"Professor, I recently heard some rumors. They seem to have something to do with you staying on at Hogwarts."

Quirrell's eyes flicked aside, and he suddenly grew nervous.

"Wh-what rumors?"

Lucien lifted the corner of his mouth.

"It's not something that can be explained in a few words."

Quirrell looked around and, seeing that no one was paying attention to them, said, "All right. Y-you come in and talk."

After taking a look around Quirrell's office, Lucien thought it was rather plain. There were neither many magic books nor any alchemical or potion ingredients.

That made sense. This guy was probably going to run the moment he got his hands on the Sorcerer's Stone. Why would he set up much of a household here?

Tch. It was like how the more little decorations an office worker had on their desk, the more reassured the boss felt. If there were none, then the boss had to worry whether they were preparing to jump ship.

"St-student, you can speak now."

"Professor, my surname is Grafton."

As he spoke, Lucien leisurely sat down across from the desk.

"Professor Quirrell, I have a pretty good rapport with people and often chat with many classmates. Do you know how everyone talks about you?"

Lucien narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at Quirrell with a smile that wasn't quite a smile.

"H-how do they talk about me?"

"They seem to say your classes are too theoretical. They say the elders in their families clearly told them Defense Against the Dark Arts was very interesting, that they'd get to try out many spells."

"Oh, right. I know a few Slytherin friends, like ones from the Greengrass family and the Malfoy family. They seem to have quite a few complaints about the current classes too."

"Especially one from the Malfoy family. That friend swore to me that his father was on the school board and would help report on the Defense class's teaching situation, striving to replace you with a professor who combined theory and practice."

"Oh, of course, I'm not saying you're bad, only..."

Lucien was spouting nonsense with a perfectly serious expression. He had been busy reading and studying, and in truth, he did not know a single Slytherin.

Oh, at most, he knew half of one—the girl surnamed Greengrass. He remembered she seemed to be called Daphne.

But seeing Quirrell's pale face and the cold sweat covering the forehead beneath his turban, Lucien felt the effect was decent.

Quirrell was way too timid. He was actually frightened to this extent, despite clearly having dared to let Voldemort possess him.

Besides, he had only said a few casual lines. How had Quirrell actually believed him? This was what they called a top student who had graduated from Ravenclaw?

Forget it. Someone who could be tricked by Tom into willingly offering up his body couldn't have been that smart.

"If you don't serve as the Defense professor, then after leaving Hogwarts, where do you plan to go?"

Lucien suddenly stared into Quirrell's eyes, his gaze deep, as though looking through Quirrell at someone else.

Quirrell froze for a few seconds, and his pupils abruptly dimmed.

He raised a hand to wipe away his sweat, a proper smile hanging on his lips.

"Grafton, you are a Ravenclaw. I believe you are also a clever young wizard."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts involves magic of no small power. Would it not be better for first-year young wizards to first establish a solid theoretical foundation?"

Lucien clasped his hands together and nodded.

"That makes sense."

"Quirrell's" smile was just about to become more obvious.

"Professor, why aren't you stuttering anymore?"

Lucien smiled, slipped his hand under the desk, and touched his wand.

Interesting. Tom had actually logged in directly. Had he recovered that well?

"Quirrell" tugged at the corners of his stiff mouth.

"Heh, your powers of observation are very sharp. We Ravenclaws are fortunate to have a new student like you."

"It's just a problem with my personality. I get nervous when there are too many people in front of me, but when there are fewer, I naturally speak more fluently."

"But as for the practical side of Defense Against the Dark Arts..."

Seeing that the other party was still going to keep stalling, Lucien had no desire to waste time and directly raised his wand.

"Quirrell's" eyes sharpened, and a faint chill flashed through them.

"I already arranged with my classmates to go have lunch in ten minutes, so I'll be direct and not waste your time."

"Professor, I've read books and taught myself some defensive spells. For example, Incendio, and Reducto, and Diffindo..."

In an instant, flames swirled through the office, tea sets were smashed to pieces, and a cabinet was sliced apart...

Throughout the process, Lucien and "Quirrell" kept their eyes fixed on each other, never looking away.

"Haha, of course, in front of you, these are all just petty tricks."

Lucien waved his wand again and cast Reparo, restoring the office to its original state.

It was quite necessary to show his strength and tell the other party that he could cause a big commotion in a short amount of time.

Of course, basic courtesy was necessary too.

"I just wanted to ask for some guidance on practical combat techniques."

"Of course, you're right as well. Most first-year young wizards don't need to come into contact with practical combat this early, so..."

"Quirrell" nodded and smiled, though there was little sincerity in that laugh.

"How about this? You are a very talented student. You can absolutely try practical combat ahead of time."

"Once a week, or twice. Come to my office alone for extra lessons."

"I will personally teach you practical combat techniques!"

Lucien smiled too, and there was little sincerity in it either.

"Thank you for your guidance. I'm honored."

He had gotten the wool.

But judging by Tom's behavior, if he didn't play some dirty trick during the extra lessons, then he wouldn't be Voldemort.

Still, fortune favored the bold. The same went for precious knowledge.

Of course, precautions were absolutely necessary. He should first go find Dumbledore and have a talk, ask for his advice.

Lucien rose to take his leave and left the office.

A few minutes later.

Quirrell began talking to himself.

"Master, those pure-blood students..."

"Idiot, can't you see? That boy just wanted to blackmail you and get some benefits!"

"You are right, Master. Then why still teach him..."

"I want the Sorcerer's Stone. The plan cannot fail. This is only a minor interruption. I will teach you a piece of Dark magic, a variant of the Imperius Curse. It takes several castings before it can control the other person's mind, but its strength lies in being concealed. It won't let those teachers notice anything wrong."

"Master, what if that child notices something is wrong on his own..."

"You spineless coward. The Dark magic spell I have bestowed upon you—do you think that boy has studied Dark magic, or that he possesses an extremely high talent for it? Otherwise, what makes you think he could notice?"