Quirrell's Lessons

"Yawn..." A few days later, at the Slytherin table in the Hogwarts dining hall, Will yawned as he cut into a sausage roasted almost to bursting.

Sylvia passed him the ketchup and studied the dark circles under his eyes. "What's been going on with you these past few days? Don't tell me you've been sneaking out every night."

"No, I just got carried away studying." Will yawned again. He wondered whether he should take a dose of Draught of Living Death over the weekend and sleep the whole thing away.

His intensive study of Runes over the past few days had paid off. His Runes progress had reached LV1 (89/100), and he had gained a fair amount of Charms experience along the way.

If anyone else had claimed to be so absorbed in studying that they forgot to eat and sleep, Sylvia might have doubted them. But coming from Will, she believed every word. "You haven't been spending every night in the Room of Requirement, have you?"

"Where else? The Room of Requirement is much more comfortable than the dorm." Ever since Will had asked the Room of Requirement for a "comfortable, livable room," he had rarely gone back to his dorm to rest. He had a room to himself anyway, so no one noticed his absence.

"True." Sylvia thought about it. The "comfortable, livable room" was spacious and luxurious, as well as warm and cozy. Not having windows was a drawback, but the Slytherin dorms didn't have windows either. That gave her an idea. "Will, could I stay in the Room of Requirement too?"

"Whoa, stop right there. There's an Eastern saying: men and women should keep a proper distance." Will rejected Sylvia with an air of righteousness. "Instead of thinking about that, you should think about what you're going to do in class."

Their first lesson that day was Defence Against the Dark Arts. The young wizards generally did whatever they pleased in that class. Some slept, some fooled around, some read, and some caught up on homework. No one listened to Quirrell stammer through his stories at the front.

Albanian vampires, old witches—no one cared.

Will usually spent the lesson reading and grinding experience.

"Yawn..." Today, he was considering catching up on sleep instead.

At the staff table, Dumbledore watched Will yawn below, his expression unreadable.

"To-today, we'll talk about... the ancient... Wendigo, and the Wen-Wendigo Transfiguration Spell in-in-invented by the dark... dark wizard... Metis." Professor Quirrell stammered through the lesson. He had just recited the incantation when Will, half asleep, suddenly raised his head and thrust his hand high into the air.

It drew plenty of attention. Even some of the students who had been fooling around stared at Will in surprise, wondering what the top student was up to. Everyone agreed that Quirrell's lessons were on the same level as Professor Binns's.

"M-Mr. Berens, is there... something you'd like to ask?" It was the first time Quirrell had seen a student raise a hand in his class.

"The spell's structure looks a lot like Runes, and even the incantation sounds similar to several Ancient Runes. But as far as I know, those Runes don't have any Transfiguration effect. How did Metis use them to produce one?" Will's question left the young wizards in the classroom baffled and stunned.

Many first-years didn't even know what Runes were, yet Will was already discussing spell structure with the professor. It was like zoning out in maths class, then tuning back in to hear the teacher discussing advanced calculus with the class genius.

"Who am I? Where am I? What are they talking about?"

"What on earth is this guy talking about?"

That was how most of the young wizards reacted.

Quirrell glanced over the noisy classroom and walked to Will's side. "That's... one of the properties of Runes. It's the effect of com-combining them with... structural variations. For... for example..."

Will's face twitched as he listened. Quirrell's speech was agonizingly slow. After more than ten minutes of stammering explanation, Will had a headache and still understood nothing. The man hadn't explained it clearly at all.

Seeing Will's puzzled look, Quirrell sighed. "M-Mr. Berens, come... come to my office after class. I'll... explain the Runes to you..."

“?” A huge question mark might as well have been written across Will's small face.

Will spent the rest of the lesson unable to focus, turning over in his mind whether he should go.

He even considered bolting straight to the Headmaster's Office after class to ask Dumbledore for help. But how would he explain knowing Quirrell's identity?

After thinking it over, Will went to Quirrell's office.

What Voldemort wanted most right now was the Philosopher's Stone. Attacking Will and exposing himself early would do him no good. What would be the point?

And if Will could gain a hefty chunk of experience here, that wouldn't be bad either. Every time he asked Professor Flitwick for guidance, he gained experience. Quirrell was an outstanding graduate and a proper professor, after all. He only hid his abilities day to day to conceal Voldemort.

To be safe, Will had also told Sylvia to find Dumbledore if she noticed anything strange about him afterward.

"Professor." Will pushed open the door. Quirrell was leisurely drinking tea. Leaning back on the sofa, he gestured for Will to sit.

He showed none of his usual timid manner. He looked confident and elegant, as though everything Will had seen before had been an act.

Will let surprise show on his face. "What's this?"

"Sometimes, a little disguise makes people underestimate you. It also lets you avoid quite a bit of work. I'm a new professor, after all, and I don't want to take on too much trouble yet." Quirrell poured Will a cup of black tea. "I never used to understand wizards who took on apprentices. Later, I realized a wizard's time and energy are limited. We can't spare much of either for mediocrities. This is how I choose the clever students."

"Thank you for the compliment." Will sat across from him, privately wondering whether this was Quirrell or Voldemort. He quickly filled his mind with startled thoughts. Voldemort was skilled at Legilimency, after all, so it was better to crowd his mind with those thoughts.

He didn't want to draw attention by using Occlumency. Dumbledore might talk to him about privacy; Voldemort certainly wouldn't.

"It's more than a compliment, Mr. Berens. Clever, exceptional students always receive special treatment. You know, Berens, looking at you is like seeing my younger self: clever, confident, outstanding. You simply lack a touch of the modesty I had."

"Quirrell" looked nostalgic, his voice tinged with wistfulness.

That settled it for Will. Voldemort had definitely taken over.

"Then please teach me about those variations in Rune structure, Professor." Will blinked up at him. He clearly saw "Quirrell's" smile grow broader when he called him Professor.