Quirrell's Lessons

"Yawn..." A few days later, at the Slytherin table in the Hogwarts Dining Room, 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 lately? 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 the Draught of Living Death over the weekend and sleep straight through it.

The intense Runes study of the past few days had paid off. His Runes progress had reached LV1 (89/100), and he had gained quite a bit of experience in Charms along the way.

If anyone else claimed they had neglected sleep and meals to study, Sylvia might have doubted it. But coming from Will, she believed every word. "Have you been spending every night in the Room of Requirement?"

"Where else? It's much more comfortable than the dormitory." Ever since Will had asked the Room of Requirement for a "comfortable, livable room," he had rarely gone back to his dormitory to sleep. He had a room to himself, so no one noticed his absence.

"True." Sylvia thought about the room. It was spacious, luxurious, warm, and comfortable. Not having windows was a drawback, but the Slytherin dormitories had no windows either. That gave her an idea. "Will, could I stay in the Room of Requirement too?"

"Whoa, stop right there. There's a saying in the East about keeping a proper distance between men and women." Will refused her with a righteous air. "Instead of thinking about that, 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 messed around, some read, and some caught up on homework. No one listened to Quirrell stammering through stories at the front of the room.

Vampires in Albania, old witches—no one cared.

Will usually spent the lesson reading and grinding experience.

"Yawn..." Today, he was wondering whether to catch up on sleep instead.

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

"Today, today we'll discuss... discuss... the ancient... Wendigo, and the Wen-Wendigo Transfiguration Spell invented by the Dark... Dark Wizard... Metis." Professor Quirrell stammered through the lesson. He had just recited the spell's incantation when Will, half asleep, suddenly raised his head and thrust his hand into the air.

That drew attention. Even some of the students fooling around turned to look at Will in surprise, wondering what the top student wanted. After all, everyone agreed that Quirrell's lessons were on par with Professor Binns's.

"Mr. Be... Behrens, is there... there something you need?" It was the first time a student had raised a hand in Quirrell's class.

"The structure of the Wendigo Transfiguration Spell looks a lot like Runes. Even the pronunciation of the incantation resembles several Ancient Runes. But as far as I know, those Runes have no Transfiguration effect. How did Metis use them to produce one?" Will's question left the other students bewildered and stunned.

Many First Years did not 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 mathematics with the top student.

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

What on earth is this guy saying?

That was how most of the young Wizards reacted.

Quirrell glanced over the noisy classroom and walked to Will's side. "That... that's a property of Runes, and the effect of combining them with... with structural variants. For... for example..."

Will's face twitched as he listened. Quirrell's stammering was agonizing. After more than ten minutes of halting explanation, Will had a headache, and Quirrell still had not made it clear.

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

What? Confusion spread across Will's young face.

Will could not focus for the rest of the lesson. He kept debating whether to go.

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

After turning it over and over in his mind, Will went to Quirrell's Office.

Right now, Voldemort's most urgent goal was to get the Philosopher's Stone. Attacking Will and exposing himself early would do him no good. Why would he risk it?

And if Will could gain a huge amount of experience here, all the better. Every time he asked Professor Flitwick for help, he earned a chunk of experience. Quirrell was an outstanding graduate and a genuine professor; he only hid his abilities in class to conceal Voldemort.

Just in case, Will had also spoken to Sylvia. If she noticed anything strange about him afterward, she was to find Dumbledore.

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

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

Will let surprise show on his face. "Professor?"

"Sometimes, a little pretense makes people underestimate you. It also helps 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 used to have trouble understanding Wizards who took on apprentices. Later, I realized a Wizard has only so much time and energy. We can't spare much of it for mediocrities. This is my way of choosing intelligent students."

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

He did not want to draw attention by using Occlumency. Dumbledore might respect his privacy; Voldemort would not.

"It isn't merely a compliment, Mr. Behrens. Clever, exceptional students always receive special treatment. You know, Behrens, looking at you is like seeing my younger self. Clever, confident, exceptional. You simply lack a little of the humility 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 Runes structural variants, Professor." Will blinked up at him. He saw the smile on "Quirrell's" face widen when he called him professor.