The eastern sky had only just begun to pale when Li Mu opened his eyes. The morning sun shone through the round window in the wall, casting down cool, faint rays of light.
His two roommates' soft snores still rose and fell around him. Li Mu had maintained his meditation posture all night, yet he was completely refreshed, and his legs felt neither sore nor numb. After so much practice, he was no longer like when he had first begun meditating, unable to last even a quarter of an hour.
Judging by the sky, it was probably around six thirty in the morning. His body clock had long grown used to waking him at this hour.
"Ernie? Justin?" He jumped down from his bed and called softly twice.
There was no response. Of course there wasn't; they were sleeping soundly. Li Mu shook his head helplessly, lightened his footsteps, left the dormitory, and then left the Common Room. Besides meditating, he kept up the habit of morning runs. At dawn, when the rising sun first appeared and spiritual energy gathered, it was the best time to absorb the essence of the sun and moon. After running five or six laps around the castle, he returned to the Great Hall on the first floor and, sure enough, soon ran into his old friends coming down for breakfast.
Hermione barged through the doors with sleepy-eyed Harry and Ron practically dragged along at her sides.
"Good morning." Li Mu stood from beside the Hufflepuff table and waved. "Come eat over here with me."
He saw Hermione smile and nod, then put her hands on her hips and point at herself. "Look at the two of you! You finished detention at the same time! Or are you planning to be late again and lose all our House points?!..."
Honestly—Li Mu looked at the sunlight streaming in through the doors of the Great Hall—there was still more than an hour before they would be late...
Harry and Ron merely hung their heads, their eyelids drooping. They looked as though they could fall asleep standing up, and they did not even have the strength to speak.
After breakfast, it was time for class. All the first week's lessons were large classes shared by all the first-years from the four Houses, and today was no exception. Li Mu was especially interested in that morning's class, because it was called—"History of Magic."
With the previous day's experience in mind, they went upstairs early, entered the classroom, laid out their books, and sat upright as they waited for the professor teaching the subject—Professor Binns, a ghost who had been dead for many years—to float through the wall and enter the classroom, and then...
And then there was no then.
When Li Mu realized something was wrong, he lifted his head from the crook of his arm and viciously pinched his left arm with his right hand. The sharp pain raced along his nerves, finally freeing him from his muddled state. He opened his eyes wide to stop himself from falling asleep again, then craned his neck and looked around.
He saw a sea of lowered heads, some completely collapsed over their desks—everyone in the classroom except Hermione and himself had been honorably hypnotized onto their desks by Professor Binns... Oh, perhaps Hermione would soon follow them. Her head was bobbing comically, as though she were bowing to Professor Binns.
It seemed his willpower really was quite good. Li Mu finally felt a little more confident. Professor Binns's droning, bee-like voice still echoed in his ears, though "chanting" might have been a more accurate description. There was a strange magic to Professor Binns's teaching. The History of Magic textbook written by Miranda Goshawk was not actually dull, and Li Mu believed that if he were reading it on his own, he would find it fascinating.
But once Professor Binns's voice joined in, the lesson became a powerful lullaby. Li Mu could not help but sigh with emotion. The school's decision had truly been wise. By hiring such a good teacher, they saved on office expenses, food, lodging, and wages—ghosts obviously did not need such things—and he could even replace expensive premium sleeping pills...
During the afternoon Defence Against the Dark Arts class, however, Li Mu found that he could not sleep even if he wanted to. The moment he stepped through the classroom door, a strange smell nearly knocked him out on the spot. He was doing relatively well; Neville Longbottom's injuries had only just begun to heal, and at the first whiff of the smell, he nearly rolled his eyes and got sent back to the hospital wing. Yet they could not drive away the stench—unless they wanted to skip class outright—because its source was the teacher of the course.
Professor Quirrell, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, stood waiting for them at the podium, enveloped in the heavy odor.
"Fred and George said Professor Quirrell once ran into a vampire. It frightened him, and he was afraid the vampire would come after him. So he stuffed loads of garlic all over himself every moment of every day," Harry said softly, covering his nose. He did not look well either.
"Uh? As far as I know, vampires aren't afraid of garlic... But judging by this smell, maybe the vampire really was driven off by the stench." Li Mu pinched his nose and spoke in all seriousness.
This probably wasn't just the smell of garlic. Or rather, the garlic was only there to cover up another strange odor—the rotten stench of a zombie.
Ron and Neville clearly took Li Mu's words as a joke, and they burst into silly laughter. Hermione frowned beside them and scolded, "Hey! You can't be like this... Professor Quirrell is still a professor... You!"
She looked exasperated, as though Li Mu and the others had committed some unforgivable crime. But basically no one listened to her. Neville looked at her nervously, while Ron turned his face away with some annoyance. Even Harry merely shrugged and remained silent.
The lesson began quickly. Before long, even Hermione had no choice but to quietly question Professor Quirrell's ability. His stuttering was not the main issue.
As Professor Quirrell stammered through the story of how he had fought a Reanimated Zombie in the past, Seamus Finnigan from Gryffindor interrupted, "Professor, tell us about what happened. I want to know the details."
"Y-yeah, P-P-Professor Quirrell. W-what d-does a R-Reanimated Zombie actually look like?" Ron did not know what possessed him, but he copied Professor Quirrell's manner of speaking as he asked his question. Everyone else was amused by him, while Hermione merely snorted and shot him a frown.
"O-oh, R-Reanimated Z-Z-Zombie..." Professor Quirrell's face alternated between red and white. To Li Mu, he looked like some kind of combination of Neville and Hinata—Hinata always blushed when she was nervous, while Neville's face often went deathly pale.
Just as the students thought Professor Quirrell was about to faint from embarrassment, Quirrell suddenly fell silent. He narrowed his eyes, and a sharp gleam shot from them. An unparalleled aura, carrying a thick garlic smell, rushed toward them. Li Mu froze. Was this the legendary eruption of a king's aura?
But Professor Quirrell paid no attention to Li Mu's astonishment. He stood silently with his hands behind his back, raised his head to the sky, and assumed the lonely posture of an unmatched master. Then... the first-years heard him say the smoothest sentence of the entire class—
"The weather is lovely today."
That sentence left a large portion of the class laughing so hard they could not recover for several minutes afterward. Without question, after today's lesson, Quirrell's legendary exploits would gain another glorious entry.
By the time class ended, Quirrell nearly stumbled as he rushed out the door. Many students, including Ron and the others, were still laughing and talking about Professor Quirrell. But Hermione had truly had enough.
"I'm warning you! You can't, do, this!" she shouted. She stomped her foot and stormed off first, leaving Li Mu and the other three staring blankly for quite some time.
Neville asked nervously, "She isn't angry, is she?"
Ron stared at her retreating back, his face dark. "Ignore that weirdo."
Before you continue