Professor Quirrell

The Heads of House were the first to be ruled out. The dying Voldemort was not capable of possessing them.

Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall were powerful. Professor Sprout was slightly weaker, true, but...

But Professor Sprout hardly ever went anywhere...

Snape could find no reason for them to have been possessed, so she ruled them out straight away.

Dumbledore could also be ruled out. After all, if Voldemort could inhabit Dumbledore's body, there was no point resisting. They might as well surrender.

Although Professor Snape was still in a state of repentance, her heart always filled with guilt toward Lily...

She still had a clear understanding of her own abilities.

If even Dumbledore could not withstand Voldemort and had been beguiled and possessed by him, then there really was no point in resisting. They could all simply prostrate themselves at Voldemort's feet.

There was nothing particularly unusual about the other staff, from the gamekeeper Rubeus Hagrid to the caretaker Argus Filch.

Professor Quirinus Quirrell, on the other hand, had become rather strange ever since his trip to Albania that summer...

Not only did he wrap his head in a white cloth that reeked nauseatingly of garlic, but he guarded it fiercely, terrified that someone might unwrap his covering...

He was far more than a little suspicious...

At that thought, Snape could not help tightening her grip on her wand inside her robes.

Whether that boy Harry Potter was as likable as Lily or as vile and disgusting as James Potter, he was still the child Lily had given birth to.

She would not allow anyone to hurt Harry!

Except herself.

When Potter had covered his scar just now, that Professor Quirrell had happened to be seemingly staring at him...

If there was nothing wrong with Quirrell, then Potter's scar would not have hurt when Quirrell looked at him!

Unless...

Of course, plenty of people had been looking at Potter. Quite a few young witches and wizards had also cast glances at Harry. Strictly speaking, everyone was a suspect. No one could be excluded.

Thus, Quirrell was at most highly suspicious. For now, there was no proof that anything was wrong with him.

But...

Quirrell, I hope you aren't the Dark Lord's vessel...

Snape muttered inwardly as she watched Harry stumble into the Ravenclaw ranks. Watching the Ravenclaws cheer, her gaze gradually returned to normal.

Such beautiful emerald-green eyes. They really are just like his mother's...

"Severus, is something wrong?"

Dumbledore quietly asked Professor Snape as he applauded.

The malice that had erupted around Severus just now had been even greater than when she had been a Death Eater...

"Nothing. It's just that Potter's scar seems to be hurting abnormally."

Professor Snape glanced at Dumbledore and slowly shook her head.

She had no evidence at present, so she could not directly accuse Professor Quirrell.

After all, if he was innocent, she would be making a false accusation, which was very wrong.

If Professor Quirrell really was Voldemort's vessel, doing so would also alert him, which would not be appropriate.

The best approach was simply to warn Quirrell in private and keep him from doing anything too excessive.

Of course, in her heart, Snape was already convinced that Quirrell was responsible.

Thus, Snape had made up her mind.

She would keep Quirrell under constant surveillance to stop him from doing anything irrational!

"Ho ho ho, just keep an eye on things, Severus..."

Dumbledore chuckled softly, his eyes also flicking discreetly toward Professor Quirrell nearby.

Clearly, Dumbledore already knew everything. He was merely dangling bait...

And he had not coordinated the details of his plan with Snape while doing so.

"Mm."

Professor Snape nodded.

Then, with Headmaster Dumbledore's famous riddle of "Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak," Hogwarts' start-of-term feast finally began!

Naturally, the first to dig in was Ronnie, the chicken-drumstick immortal~

Summoning a huge spread of delicacies made by the house-elves, Ron completely forgot how many of Harry's snacks he had eaten that afternoon.

Who knew how Ron's digestive system worked? In any case, he certainly could eat...

He went straight into a frenzied eating mode...

Over at the Slytherin table, meanwhile, Malfoy gave Ron a deeply contemptuous look.

What a glutton. How could Potter have been bewitched by this stinking redheaded monster?

Never mind being friends with her. Even having her come near me would make me physically sick!

Wouldn't even the vengeful spirits of those witches who killed themselves in Massachusetts be better than that Miss Weasley?

Malfoy could not understand it.

Did Potter have some sort of extremely peculiar taste?

Although she could not figure it out, Malfoy still very elegantly tucked a napkin into place before picking up her knife and fork and beginning to cut her food at a leisurely pace.

Once Potter saw the enormous difference between her and Weasley, surely he would know how to choose his friends?

Yet, even after poor Miss Draco Malfoy had been eating for quite some time, she had not felt a single glance from the Ravenclaw Table.

How strange. Is Potter watching Weasley instead of the elegant, gracious Miss Malfoy?

She turned to look.

That damned Potter!

He...

Why is he chatting with so many Ravenclaws?!

After all, Harry had transmigrated here, so his social skills were certainly considerably better than those of the previous Harry.

On top of that, the young Ravenclaws showed extraordinary enthusiasm toward the legendary "Chosen One." Harry did not even have to start the conversation; they all pestered him with endless questions.

The witches and wizards who normally cared nothing for the Muggle world or Muggle life had now all turned into curious children, constantly asking Harry what it was actually like to live in the Muggle world.

They also all said that Harry could visit their homes if he wanted...

Every witch and wizard sitting near Harry was particularly eager to talk to him.

However, Draco subconsciously ignored all the male students who spoke to Harry.

Ravenclaw's Padma Patil was also a new student that year.

Her older sister, Parvati Patil, had been sorted into Gryffindor.

She had merely greeted Harry normally and exchanged a few pleasantries.

As a result, Malfoy immediately took note of her...

"No, I have to tell my father. I need to find a way. I can't let these dangerous people surround Potter every day..."

"Not the boys either. Who knows whether Potter might like boys..."