16-20

Chapter 16: Gryffindor’s Joke

Given Luke's herbology skills—barely able to differentiate between celery and cilantro—he didn’t manage to earn any extra points during class.

Instead, Miss Know-It-All, Hermione, was relentlessly earning points for Gryffindor, much to Draco's chagrin, who kept sneering the entire time.

In truth, mistaking cilantro for celery was more of a playful jab; the real challenge in herbology wasn’t identifying plants but keeping them alive.

During the first Charms class, Luke startled Professor Flitwick by casting a level five Lumos spell.

“Outstanding spellwork! Five points to Slytherin!” The tiny Professor Flitwick, standing atop a stack of books, clapped and hopped with excitement.

History of Magic, however, was excruciatingly boring. Thanks to Professor Binns and his droning, sermon-like teaching style, the entire class was practically asleep. It reminded Luke of a middle school math teacher from his previous life.

His deskmate had once dramatically claimed, “If the teacher so much as bends down to pick up a piece of chalk, half the class will be knocked out cold.”

Luke didn’t just doze off during History of Magic—he outright fell asleep in broad daylight.

After all, magical history was his usual leisure reading material. It was like those history books he used to keep in his bathroom in his past life. Instead of enduring Professor Binns’s monotony, he decided to take advantage of the hypnotic environment for a quick nap.

As for Professor Binns? Well, let’s just say he wasn’t offended. Even the ever-diligent Miss Know-It-All was visibly struggling to stay awake, nodding off repeatedly.

After class, Luke was informed that Professor Snape wanted to see him in his office.

“Oh, look who it is. The big shot of Slytherin,” Snape sneered as Luke entered, not even bothering to lift his head.

“I’m no big shot, Professor Snape,” Luke replied calmly, his tone neither humble nor arrogant.

“How modest of you, Mr. Mountbatten.”

Snape’s expression was as inscrutable as his tone.

“Modesty happens to be one of my few virtues, Professor. You’re very observant.”

“Madam Pomfrey mentioned that the door to Slytherin Prefect Mr. Lestrange’s room had been mysteriously locked shut. I assume, Mr. Mountbatten, you’ll provide me with a reasonable explanation?”

Snape’s voice was as drawn-out and oily as his hair.

“Professor, you know me,” Luke said with an innocent look. “Someone as honest and well-behaved as me would never start trouble.”

“Oh, I know you well, Mr. Mountbatten,” Snape said with a forced smile that was more unsettling than comforting. “You’re quite the prodigy for your age. I understand that disagreements among students are unavoidable, but do try not to cause any irreparable psychological damage.”

“Of course, Professor. I’m as well-behaved as they come,” Luke agreed with a seemingly angelic expression.

“You’ve certainly redefined the meaning of ‘well-behaved,’” Snape said, his face betraying a complicated mix of emotions.

“Thank you for the compliment, Professor.”

Luke smiled bashfully, glancing sideways at a glass jar on a nearby shelf containing two enormous eyeballs. The moment his gaze met theirs, his skin crawled with goosebumps.

Quickly, he shifted his attention to something less unsettling—Snape’s greasy hair, which, all things considered, was easier on the eyes than the rest of his macabre collection.

Snape paused, his expression unreadable. “You seem to have trouble distinguishing between praise and sarcasm,” he finally said. “I hope today’s conversation sticks with you, Mr. Mountbatten. Remember, I am not only your Potions professor but also the Head of Slytherin House.”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence—Luke understood the implied warning perfectly.

“Thank you for looking out for me, Professor,” Luke said earnestly. He knew full well what Snape meant. A harmless prank like yesterday’s was something Snape could cover up, but anything more serious would leave him powerless to protect Luke.

“I thought you’d dock points from me,” Luke joked lightly, trying to ease the tension.

“Do I look like Professor McGonagall to you?” Snape retorted, his lips twitching into what might have been a smirk.

Hearing McGonagall’s name reminded Luke of a joke from his past life. He chuckled and said, “Professor, I heard a funny joke from some Gryffindor students.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed with curiosity.

“Professor McGonagall was furious about Fred and George Weasley sneaking out at night, so she told Percy Weasley, ‘I’m deducting points from Gryffindor!’

Percy thought for a moment and replied, ‘Please give Gryffindor points!’”

Luke’s sharp ears caught a faint “tch” sound from Snape.

“Amusing,” Snape said, his face slightly flushed. In the dim lighting of his office, it was hard to tell if Luke was imagining it. “You may leave.”

As Luke closed the door behind him, he heard a loud cough followed by a resounding thud, as if Snape had slammed his desk.

Later that evening, after dinner, Luke returned to the Slytherin common room to find Senior Katherine sitting on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, clearly waiting for him.

“If you’re late again, you can find your own way,” she said icily.

“Apologies, Katherine. Professor Snape called me to his office,” Luke explained honestly. He couldn’t risk upsetting his walking map.

In the Room of Requirement, the two went their separate ways to practice. Whatever Katherine was working on, it was secretive enough that she needed a private room. Occasionally, eerie green light flickered through the cracks in the door.

She’s not practicing Avada Kedavra, is she? Luke thought nervously.

Deciding it was best not to meddle, he turned his attention to practicing two new spells: Confringo and Incendio.

As the spells appeared on his skill tree, a notification chimed in his mind:

“New mission: Night Exploration of the Forbidden Forest. Accept?”

“Mission Objective: Unknown.”

“Recommended Level: 10.”

“Reward: Rune of El, Rune of Ed, or Rune of Tir (choose one).”

There was no way Luke would refuse. Without hesitation, he accepted.

Even though he didn’t know the runes’ purpose yet, anything offered as a system reward had to be valuable.

Glancing at the eerie green glow leaking from Katherine’s door, Luke hesitated. Should he invite her along?

If he did, and she really was practicing the Killing Curse, would she silence him out of embarrassment?

If he didn’t, as a directionally challenged person, he might not even reach the Forbidden Forest before the first morning class ended.

---

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 17: Night Stroll

As a self-proclaimed cheat master, Luke had no doubts about his ability to complete the task on his own. He was brimming with confidence, leaving no room for self-doubt.

If this were the world of Detective Dee, he would undoubtedly earn the title of "Hanging Spirit" in the Serpent Sect. And he was sure Professor Snape would be dubbed the "Greasy Spirit."

With such thoughts swirling in his mind, he unconsciously knocked on Catherine's door.

A "whoosh" of eerie green flames shot out from the crack in the door, narrowly missing his hair.

The door opened, and Catherine’s pale skin, bathed in moonlight, seemed even more ethereal.

Her icy gaze scanned Luke from head to toe. After a moment, she spoke coldly, “You’d better have a reasonable explanation.”

As she spoke, a small green flame flickered to life above her index finger.

“Miss Vole,” Luke bowed elegantly with a polite smile. “Forgive my intrusion, but I humbly invite you for a stroll on this quiet night.”

Catherine snorted dismissively and moved to close the door. Luke quickly stopped her with a sincere smile. “Senior, could you take me to the Forbidden Forest?”

“The Forbidden Forest isn’t your playground, Little Deer,” Catherine rejected mercilessly. “You should know that such a dangerous place isn’t meant for someone like you.”

Luke didn’t respond immediately but instead handed her a pouch filled with magical glacial water.

“Try this. In return, I can supply you with this magical water.”

Catherine eyed the vintage pouch, unscrewed the cap, and took a small sip. After a long pause, she said slowly:

“Very well. You’ve convinced me.”

Her eyes narrowed as she savored the rapid restoration of her magic, visibly pleased.

---

Catherine’s nighttime escapades seemed on par with the Weasley twins. She skillfully guided Luke through the castle, deftly avoiding Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris. They soon found a secret passageway and gracefully exited Hogwarts.

“Do you have more of this birch sap?” Catherine asked, licking her lips, clearly savoring the drink.

“Birch sap?” Luke was momentarily confused.

“What else could this magical liquid you’ve procured be?”

Caught off guard, Luke handed her another pouch of water.

“Let me know if you want more.”

This time, it was Catherine’s turn to be speechless. She narrowed her eyes, realizing her assumption of a single pouch as payment for the excursion had been wrong.

For the first time, she began to take Luke seriously.

Still, Catherine had no interest in prying into Luke’s secrets. Everyone had their mysteries, and she didn’t want to lose this intriguing junior—perhaps now deserving the nickname “Water Dispenser.”

“My demand for this is... considerable,” Catherine remarked, testing Luke, oblivious to the suggestive undertone of her words.

“Don’t worry. I’ll meet all your needs,” Luke replied without realizing the double entendre, simultaneously giving Catherine confidence in his reliability.

---

Most places looked entirely different at night, especially the Forbidden Forest, whose name alone carried an air of terror. Under the moonlight, the forest edge resembled a ghostly realm. Luke hesitated at the boundary.

“Scared?” Catherine’s voice floated over.

“It’s creepy, but manageable.”

As a man, Luke wouldn’t back down. At this point, it wasn’t just about completing a task—it was about his pride.

Besides, as a seasoned fighter of proletariat struggles, why would he fear ghosts?

The trees near the forest’s edge were bizarre, twisted like something out of a Halloween cartoon.

Walking along the narrow path, the atmosphere grew increasingly eerie. A strange white mist shrouded the forest, likely the result of some enchantment.

The September night in Scotland was cold. Even with his school robe over his uniform, Luke shivered slightly and wrapped his robe tighter for warmth.

A sudden wolf howl broke the silence. Luke felt a sharp pain in his arm. He turned to see Catherine’s hand gripping him tightly. Her nails dug into his sleeve, creasing the fabric.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asked, concerned as he saw her pale face.

“Nothing.”

Her tone carried its usual arrogance, but Luke noticed her unusual lack of sarcasm.

“You’re scared, aren’t you, Senior Vole?”

“Sh-shut up.” A faint blush colored Catherine’s delicate face.

Her grip tightened, causing Luke even more pain.

Just then, the system chimed in his mind, displaying an updated task: *“Locate an evil lair on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.”*

“Huh, what’s that?” Luke followed Catherine’s gaze. Ahead, beneath a bush, a dark, cave-like opening came into view.

“It looks like a cave. Maybe I should check it out while you wait here.”

The task description—*“Eliminate the dark creature residing in the cave”*—flashed on his screen. Driven by a spirit of adventure, Luke decided to take the risk.

With a recommended level of 10, it shouldn’t turn into another debacle like the Waterman Highlands.

Catherine cast him a skeptical look. “What do you plan to do in there?”

“I’ve loved treasure hunting since I was little,” Luke lied smoothly. “My instincts tell me this cave has something valuable.”

He couldn’t very well explain his quest. Saying, “I have a mission to clear this cave,” would only make her think he was insane.

Sometimes, the truth is stranger than fiction.

“You really are a fearless little deer. Do you even know what lurks in the Forbidden Forest?” Catherine’s tone carried a hint of mockery. “With your recklessness, you should’ve been sorted into Gryffindor. I don’t understand why you’re in Slytherin.”

“Actually, I wanted Gryffindor,” Luke shrugged. “But the hat thought Slytherin suited me better. I’ve heard stories about the Forbidden Forest—giant spiders, ghosts…”

As if on cue, a cold wind swept through, carrying a sound somewhere between crying and wailing.

“Fine. To spare your animal friends from mourning you, we’ll go in together,” Catherine declared firmly, though her tightened grip on Luke betrayed her nerves.

---

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 18: The Forbidden Forest Cave*

“You really didn’t have to come along and take this risk with me.”

Luke genuinely didn’t want to drag his senior into this. If they ended up encountering something even she couldn’t handle, it wouldn’t be fun at all.

Perhaps because the eerie wind outside was no longer audible after entering the cave, her tone had gradually returned to its usual sharpness. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t want to see the red-haired squirrel and the four-eyed frog crying over your corpse.”

“Oh, and that white weasel too.” When she mentioned Draco, Luke keenly noticed a flicker of disdain in her expression.

“It seems you don’t like Draco very much, do you, Senior?” Luke asked as he walked forward, his wand glowing faintly.

The cave was surprisingly spacious. After just a few steps, it opened up dramatically. Unlike the narrow entrance, the ceiling inside was almost as tall as the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Luke realized that even the glow from his wand couldn’t fully illuminate the ceiling above.

“I detest self-important people, and as it happens, all three members of the Malfoy family are exactly that,” Catherine replied, pausing to glance at Luke. “I know what you’re thinking—how can a self-important person hate others just like her... isn’t that right?”

“I never thought that, Senior.” Luke stopped in his tracks, looking at Catherine earnestly. “I’ve always believed your abilities match your temperament.”

“So, why did you stop?”

Without a word, Luke pointed upward.

Catherine looked up to see a massive, hideous spider clinging to the ceiling, its numerous compound eyes staring straight at them. Its huge mandibles opened and closed, radiating an intense hunger.

“Confringo!”

Luke used the new spell he’d just learned.

You have gained 100 points of proficiency in the Blasting Curse. Your skill level has increased by 1.  

The fiery red curse struck the wall in front of the spider, exploding with a brilliant flash. The spider screeched and teetered on the edge of losing its grip as another Blasting Curse sent it closer to falling.

“Sometimes, I think I’m pretty decent. Look, the spider’s about to drop,” Luke said, his tone rather excited.

“You do realize we’re standing directly beneath it, don’t you?” Catherine asked coolly. A jet of eerie green flames erupted from her wand, incinerating the spider mid-air, leaving no trace.

“That’s such a waste—Acromantula are full of valuable parts,” Luke said regretfully.

“That wasn’t an Acromantula; it was a Giant Widow Spider,” Catherine retorted disdainfully. “If your eyesight were better, you’d have noticed the large red markings on its back.”

Oh, right. Luke recalled that this was the same type of giant spider Ron had faced when confronting the Boggart.

“Widow Spider silk is incredibly valuable, but... this one had already lost its ability to spin webs,” she said with a hint of regret.

“How do you know?” Luke asked, curious. Learning was always worthwhile, as the wise once said: “Keep learning—knowledge has no limits.”

“Otherwise, we’d already be caught in sticky spiderwebs, you foolish little fawn,” Catherine replied with her usual disdainful gaze.

Luke had grown accustomed to her scornful looks.

The cave was home to a surprising variety of magical creatures. Not far past the spider, they encountered a nest of Cornish Pixies, and even two Grindylows.

It was baffling how two aquatic creatures had ended up in a landlocked cave.

After dispatching the Grindylows, they continued forward. Luke carefully observed the surrounding terrain, wondering what this so-called “dark creature” could be.

“La’karnisu!”

A faint voice echoed from deeper within the cave. Luke stopped in his tracks and whispered, “Did you hear that?”

“Quietus... Disillusionment!”

“I think so,” Catherine murmured after casting her spells. She pointed uncertainly ahead. “It seems to be coming from over there. Let’s check it out.”

Under the effects of the Silencing Charm, their movements were nearly soundless. After walking a few dozen steps, strange cries grew clearer, and light shone through a gap ahead.

Peeking around the corner, they saw an orange-red bonfire, atop which hung a large cauldron bubbling with some unknown concoction. Around the fire danced a group of red-skinned goblins.

These goblins had short horns on their heads, jagged iron knives in one hand, and shields in the other. They hopped around the fire, chanting nonsensical lyrics.

“What a strong smell of sulfur,” Catherine said, wrinkling her nose.

The sight felt oddly familiar to Luke. Suddenly, it clicked—weren’t these the Fallen from the Rogue Encampment?

How did they end up here?

In his memory, these little demons were cowardly and weak. Typically, wherever the Fallen appeared, there would be a Fallen Shaman leading them. Sure enough, upon looking further, he saw a slightly larger figure clutching a bone staff, staggering around as if giving commands.

This was a creature straight out of Diablo II, a game he’d played in his previous life.

Thinking about it now, it wasn’t surprising. Even spells from World of Warcraft had found their way here, so nothing seemed impossible in this world.

“They’re Fallen, small demons from hell,” Luke whispered, explaining to Catherine. “They’re incredibly cowardly. As soon as you kill one, the rest will flee in terror.”

“Demons can be cowardly?” Catherine asked, surprised. It was the first time she’d heard such a claim. The common image of demons was one of cruelty, cunning, and malice—not cowardice.

“Yes, I once read about them in my family records,” Luke said, adding credibility to his explanation. “See that one with the bone totem? That’s the shaman leading the group. It can use magic to resurrect the Fallen—unless you destroy their bodies entirely.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Luke said, stopping Catherine, who seemed eager to act. “According to the records, Fallen are immune to all fire-based damage.”

(End of chapter)

*Chapter 19: The Leaf*

“You think all I can do is fiery flames?”

Katherine glanced at Luke with a smirk.

“Have you ever seen fiery flames that are green?”

Luke hit her with the most biting question.

Katherine froze momentarily, then raised her delicate chin, letting out a proud “hmph.”

“You handle the Fallen Shaman; these five Fallen are mine,” Luke said, dividing their targets while reminding Katherine, “Be careful, the Fallen Shaman’s fireballs are fast.”

“Got it.” Senior Katherine nodded as the two advanced.

Luke pulled a shiny crystal sword out of his storage space and spun it deftly in his hand, surprising Katherine. Holding a staff in one hand and the sword in the other, he really did look like a rare magic-swordsman hybrid.

“Expelliarmus!” Luke’s spell hit the nearest Fallen, sending its sword and shield flying into the air. The creature stared at its now-empty hands in confusion, scratched the back of its head, and muttered, “Rakani-shu?”

Its last view was of its dismembered body spraying like a fountain before the world faded to black.

Seeing their comrade’s quick demise, the other Fallen scattered like frightened birds, ignoring the Shaman’s desperate attempts to rally them. Enraged, the Shaman waved its totem, hurling an orange-red fireball toward Luke.

“Protego!”

You have gained 5 points of Shield Charm proficiency.  

What a pity—just five points. Luke had hoped for at least 100.

Moments later, Katherine’s spell blasted the Fallen Shaman into pieces.

The remaining four Fallen, each worth only a single proficiency point, were dealt with by Luke, who reluctantly dispatched them one by one with his sword.

As the final Fallen fell, the mission completion notification chimed. Luke considered his options and chose the largest *Tir Rune*.

“Rune: Tir. When embedded in an item, it produces unexpected effects.”

“New Room of Requirement option unlocked: Otherworldly Dimensions.”

*Otherworldly Dimensions*: After clearing a target map, you can solidify the map into the Otherworldly Dimension for unlimited challenges. Within this dimension, you will not suffer real death or damage.

*Exploring Otherworldly Dimensions* may lead to unexpected rewards.

*Current Unlock: Forbidden Forest Cavern (Level 1).*

Luke immediately thought of Harry, Ron, and Draco. The cavern they’d just cleared seemed like the perfect adventure spot for young wizards.

“What are you daydreaming about?” Katherine’s voice snapped Luke out of his thoughts.

“Nothing.” Satisfied with their haul, Luke chuckled and replied, “Looks like we’ve reached the end of this cave. Shall we head back?”

“What about the treasure?” Katherine’s sharp eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Ah…” Luke hesitated, glancing around until he spotted something resembling a chest. Pointing at it, he said, “There it is! Why don’t you open it?”

Katherine rolled her eyes and stepped forward. She raised her wand to act, but Luke quickly stopped her.

“Wait!”

As she looked at him questioningly, Luke swung his crystal sword at the chest.

“Okay, it’s safe now. Go ahead.”

Katherine gave him a “are you crazy?” look, but Luke wasn’t taking any chances. With elements from WoW and Diablo already present, the last thing he wanted was a mimic from Dark Souls ambushing them.

The pain of being fooled by such traps wasn’t something anyone could forget.

The loot was decent: 20 gold coins, a massive diamond, a Tal Rune, and a two-socketed wand with 30% faster casting speed.

Katherine wasn’t interested in the wand or rune, so she took the diamond, which looked to be about 20 carats, leaving the rest for Luke. Holding the wand, an idea struck him.

He embedded the Tir Rune he had just acquired and then added the Ral Rune from his starter kit. Sure enough, as soon as the Ral Rune went in, the wand seemed to accelerate its growth. A tender green bud sprouted from its tip, quickly growing into a vibrant green leaf.

*Leaf*

Wand  

TirRal

Durability: 50/50

+30% Faster Casting Speed

+3 to Fire Skills

+3 to Firestorm

+3 to Inferno

+3 to Warmth

+1% Mana per kill

+33% Cold Resistance

+20% Shield Charm Defense Strength

Sockets: 2

Luke gazed at the wand, a look of satisfaction spreading across his face.

“It’s you—Runeword: Leaf.”

A notification sounded:

*Achievement Unlocked: Forbidden Forest Cavern (Normal Mode) (10)*

Cleared the Forbidden Forest Cavern (Normal Mode).  

*Runes are a Language (Milestone)*

Successfully crafted a Runeword.  

*Achievement Rewards: Two Mystery Pet Eggs.*

“What’s this?” Katherine asked, intrigued by the wand’s transformation.

“It’s made with runes,” Luke said, deflecting credit. “I found inspiration in my family’s records. Want to try it?”

If his grandfather asked, he’d just say it was Dumbledore’s idea.

Katherine took the wand. As soon as it touched her hand, a warm current flowed through her, dispelling the chill of the night.

“Amazing,” she said, raising her brows. “It even seems to speed up my mana recovery—though not as fast as your birch sap.”

“That’s not all,” Luke said with a grin. “This wand significantly boosts the power of fire spells, offers bonuses to Firestorm and Inferno, and even increases the strength of your Shield Charm by 20%.”

A flicker of disbelief flashed in Katherine’s eyes. “Impossible. How could a wand do that?”

“Try it and see,” Luke replied with a shrug.

Katherine waved the wand, and a ghostly green fire dragon roared to life.

“Stop! Stop! Make it stop!” Luke shouted in panic. The dragon had already turned its head toward them, its searing heat making him sweat.

Katherine flicked the wand, and with a soft “poof,” the dragon vanished.

Still eager to experiment, she raised the wand again, but Luke grabbed her wrist and shouted, “If you dare cast Inferno Explosion in here, I’ll die with you!”

The chapter ends with a note of nostalgia as Luke wonders if Diana will lock the door on him.

*End of Chapter.*

Chapter 20: Come to My Office This Weekend

"You’re such a silly little deer," the senior said with a look of pity. "Do you think my intelligence is as low as yours? I’m still young—I have no intention of experiencing what it feels like to be buried alive."

With that, she reluctantly returned the wand to Luke.

"A fine wand, little deer," the usually sharp-tongued senior surprisingly praised the wand for once.

"You keep it. It looks like you need it more than I do," Luke said, pushing the wand back toward her.

The system had evaluated the wand as giving a +20% boost. Since Luke wasn’t particularly interested in fire-related spells, he decided to do her a favor.

Building good relationships is important if you want to make more unreasonable demands later, right? Like… hehehe?

The senior froze for a moment, her expression one of stunned disbelief. After a pause, she asked, "Are you saying… you’re giving this to me? Are you out of your mind, Montbatten? Do you even understand the value of this wand—"

She didn’t even bother calling him “little deer” anymore.

"Relax, no one understands this wand’s value better than I do," Luke said, spreading his hands in a classic gesture. "Besides, I might need you to take me on a few night strolls in the future—consider it a prepayment."

He spoke casually.

Katherine looked at him for a while before finally saying softly, "Thank you."

"I’m not used to this non-sarcastic side of you. I kind of prefer your, um, sharp-tongued and tsundere vibe. You should go back to—"

The cold tip of the wand pressed against his chin.

"Deer meat for dinner tonight," the senior said, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Luke wisely shut his mouth.

By the time they returned to the castle, the sky was beginning to brighten. After sneaking back to his dorm room, Luke carefully placed the two mysterious pet eggs, one large and one small, by his bedside.

According to the description, they would hatch in two days.

Good things are worth the wait. Feeling content, Luke drifted off to sleep.

---

On Thursday, the only Defense Against the Dark Arts class was held late in the day. Seeing the eager faces of his classmates, Luke couldn’t bear to burst their bubble. Let them enjoy their anticipation for a bit longer.

The classroom was damp and reeked of mildew—this was the first impression the younger students had of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Heavy curtains completely blocked out the midday sunlight, and the strange, misshapen potted plants gave the room a weird, unsettling smell. The naive young wizards even thought they’d been transported to another dimension.

When Professor Quirrell, wrapped in his enormous turban, finally entered, the atmosphere grew even worse. The overwhelming stench of garlic made everyone roll their eyes.

Professor Quirrell seemed harmless enough, exuding a mix of innocence and shyness that made him look like someone freshly stepping into society. Yet, even when addressing much younger students, he appeared overly nervous, stammering as he greeted them and constantly adjusting his turban.

Draco, sitting beside Luke, muttered, "The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is such a joke. If my father found out, he’d definitely demand the board fire him."

"Agreed," Luke replied, playing along. He wasn’t fond of this professor either, though for completely different reasons.

To Luke, people could be categorized into two groups: those who were simply bad at something, and those who actively made things worse. He could tolerate the former, but the latter? They were a different story.

If Quirrell were merely incompetent, Luke could live with that and study on his own.

After introducing himself, Professor Quirrell stammered, "Does… does anyone know what Defense Against the Dark Arts is… about?"

The class fell silent, except for Hermione, who raised her hand high.

Luke wasn’t eager to draw attention to himself, especially in front of Professor Quirrell. What if Voldemort took notice of him?

"Y-you there," Quirrell said, gesturing to Hermione.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts involves magic used to protect oneself from the effects of dark magic, as well as offensive spells that can counter curses," Hermione explained.

"V-very good! Five points to Gryffindor," Quirrell said, checking the roster with magical photo IDs. "Miss Hermione Granger, excellent answer."

"Now… can anyone tell me what spells are commonly used in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

Quirrell chose Draco to answer this time.

"Protego, professor," Draco said, clearly pleased with himself.

Luke’s heart sank. Oh no, don’t do this, Draco…

Before he could intervene, Draco beamed and added, "My roommate, Luke, can even cast the Shield Charm silently!"

His face practically screamed, Look at my amazing friend, Luke the prodigy.  

Luke felt the world spinning.

Murphy’s Law strikes again. Some friend you are, Draco!

Quirrell’s interest was piqued. "Oh? Luke, c-can you d-demonstrate?"

Sighing in defeat, Luke decided he might as well get something out of this. "Professor, please cast Expelliarmus on me."

"A-alright," Quirrell said, raising his wand. "Ready?"

"Ready!" Luke braced himself.

"Expelliarmus!"

A crimson beam shot from Quirrell’s wand. Luke didn’t dare take it lightly; he raised his hand and conjured a blue shield to deflect the spell.

“You have gained 1,000 Shield Charm proficiency points.”  

Luke’s jaw dropped. For the first time in eleven years, he muttered a curse under his breath.

That had to be Voldemort taking over temporarily!

Quirrell—or rather, Voldemort—gave Luke a meaningful look.

"Impressive. Truly outstanding," he said smoothly, no longer stammering. "Mr. Montbatten, please visit my office this Sunday evening. I’d like to provide some additional guidance on your Defense Against the Dark Arts."

The class erupted into murmurs. Hermione looked at Luke with such envy that it seemed she wished to trade places with him.

If she knew who was really giving the lessons, she’d probably reconsider her enthusiasm.

"I… um, do I have to, Professor?" Luke asked hesitantly.

"A talent like yours, Mr. Montbatten, deserves proper guidance. It would be a crime not to nurture your potential."

Quirrell wasn’t taking no for an answer.