Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Lucien was attending his second Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the week, observing the stammering Professor Quirrell while planning his post-class agenda.
He would corner Quirrell right after class, but not in the classroom; there were too many eyes and ears.
This Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson was still so superficial. He was lecturing on the origin and definition of the Expelliarmus spell, but not how to apply it.
Lucien couldn't help but grumble inwardly, How can a professor not teach anything substantial? Right, Quirrell—or rather, Tom?
Another long class passed with Quirrell slacking off. He grabbed his teaching materials and promptly fled the classroom.
Lucien followed him directly.
Quirrell walked back to his office next door, about to pull the door shut.
A hand pressed against the door.
"Professor Quirrell, I have some questions about Defense Against the Dark Arts that I'd like to ask."
Quirrell turned around and saw a young man with short dark-golden hair, staring at him with dark green eyes.
"Uh, s-sorry, Professor has something, something to do, next time, next time."
Saying this, Quirrell was about to close the door, but a sentence from Lucien stopped him again.
"Professor, I've recently heard some rumors, and they seem to be related to your continued employment at Hogwarts."
Quirrell's eyes darted, and he suddenly became nervous.
"W-what rumors?"
Lucien raised the corner of his mouth.
"It's hard to explain in a few words."
Quirrell looked left and right, seeing that no one was paying attention.
"Alright, y-you come in and tell me."
Observing Quirrell's office, Lucien found it quite simple, with no magic books, alchemy tools, or potion ingredients.
That made sense. He probably planned to run away as soon as he got the Philosopher's Stone; why bother setting up too much?
Tsk, it's like the more trinkets a worker has on his desk, the more at ease the boss feels; conversely, if there are few, the boss worries he's planning to run off or change jobs.
"S-student, you can speak now, right?"
"Professor, my surname is Grafton."
As he spoke, Lucien calmly sat down opposite the desk.
"Ah.. y-yes, Mr. Grafton."
"Professor Quirrell, I have a pretty good social circle, and I often chat with many students. Do you know how everyone evaluates you?"
Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly, looking at Quirrell with a half-smile.
"H-how do they evaluate me?"
"It seems they say that your lectures are too theoretical, and that their elders at home clearly said Defense Against the Dark Arts class is supposed to be very interesting and involve trying many types of magic."
"Oh, right, I know a few Slytherin friends, such as the Greengrass family and the Malfoy family; they also seem to have quite a few complaints about the current classes."
"Especially one from the Malfoy family—this friend swore to me that his father is one of the school governors and would help report on the teaching situation of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, striving to replace you with a professor who combines theory and practice."
"Oh, of course, I'm not saying you're bad, it's just…"
Lucien was spouting nonsense with a straight face; he was busy studying and didn't actually know any Slytherin students.
At most, he knew half of one—the one named Greengrass. He remembered her name was Daphne.
However, seeing Quirrell's pale face and the fine sweat covering his forehead beneath the turban, Lucien felt the effect was pretty good.
Quirrell was too timid, wasn't he, to be this scared—even though he dared to let Lord Voldemort possess him.
Moreover, he had only said a few casual words—how could Quirrell actually believe them? Was this really a so-called top student who had graduated from Ravenclaw?
Forget it, if he could be conned by a half dead Tom into willingly offering his body, he couldn't be that smart.
"If you don't teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, where do you plan to go after leaving Hogwarts?"
Lucien suddenly stared into Quirrell's eyes, his gaze deep, as if looking through Quirrell at another person.
Quirrell was dazed for a few seconds, his pupils dimming instantly.
He raised a hand to wipe away sweat, a polite smile on his lips.
"Grafton, you are a Ravenclaw, and I believe you are also a clever young wizard. Defense Against the Dark Arts class involves magic of considerable power; isn't it better for first-year wizards to first build a solid theoretical foundation?"
Lucien clasped his hands together and nodded.
"That makes sense."
Quirrell's smile was about to become more pronounced.
"Professor, why aren't you stammering anymore?"
Lucien smiled, placed his hand under the desk, and touched his wand.
Interesting, Tom actually took over directly—and he's already recovered this well?
"Quirrell" tugged at his stiff lips.
"Heh, your observation skills are very sharp. We Ravenclaws are very lucky to have a new student like you."
"It's a personality issue for me; I get nervous when there are too many people, so when there are fewer, I naturally speak more clearly."
"But the practical aspect of Defense Against the Dark Arts still—"
Seeing that the other party was still trying to argue, Lucien didn't want to waste time and directly raised his wand.
Quirrell's eyes narrowed, a faint chill flashing through them.
"I've already arranged to have lunch with a classmate in ten minutes, so I'll be direct and won't waste your time."
"Professor, I've self-studied some Defense Against the Dark Arts spells, such as Incendio, such as Diffindo, such as Reducto…"
Immediately, flames swirled in the office, teaware shattered, and a cabinet was cut in half…
Throughout the process, Lucien and "Quirrell" watched each other, never breaking eye contact.
"Haha, of course, in front of you, these are all minor tricks."
Lucien waved his wand again, casting Reparo, restoring the office to its original state.
It was quite necessary to demonstrate his strength and let the other party know he could cause a big commotion in a short amount of time.
Of course, basic politeness was also necessary.
"I just wanted to ask about some practical combat techniques... Of course, you're also right—most first-year wizards don't need to engage in practical combat so early, so…"
"Quirrell" nodded and smiled, though there wasn't much sincerity in his laughter.
"How about this—you are a very talented student and can certainly try practical combat early. Once or twice a week, come to my office alone for extra lessons."
"I, personally, will teach you practical combat techniques!"
Lucien smiled, also without much sincerity.
"Thank you for your guidance, I am honored."
He had gotten what he wanted.
However, seeing Tom in this state, if he didn't try something sinister during the extra lessons, he wouldn't be Lord Voldemort.
But one must take risks to gain wealth—and the same goes for valuable knowledge.
Of course, precautions were necessary; he should talk to old Dumbledore first and ask for his advice.
Lucien stood up to take his leave and exited the office.
A few minutes later.
Quirrell began to mutter to himself.
"Master, those pure-blood students…"
"Fool, can't you see? That kid just wants to blackmail you, to get some benefits!"
"Master is right, but why still teach…"
"I want the Philosopher's Stone. The plan cannot fail. This is just a small interlude. I will teach you a Dark Arts spell, a variation of Imperio. After several uses, it will control the other person's thoughts, but it's discreet and won't make the professors notice anything unusual."
"Master, what if the child himself notices something is wrong…"
"Cowardly thing! I grant you Dark Arts spells—do you think that kid has studied the Dark Arts, or possesses extremely high Dark Arts talent? Otherwise, how could he possibly notice?"