Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Leo attended this week's second Defence class, watching the stammering Quirrell while planning his next move. He'd corner the professor right after class—couldn't talk in the classroom with too many eyes and ears around.
This Defence class was still as watered-down as ever. Quirrell was actually discussing the origins and definitions of the Disarming Charm, but not how to use it.
How could a teacher not teach anything real? Leo couldn't help but think. Right, Quirrell? Or should I say... Tom?
Another tedious class passed with Quirrell barely trying. He grabbed his materials and fled the classroom directly.
Leo followed right behind.
Quirrell walked back to his adjacent office and was about to close the door when a hand pressed against the panel.
"Professor Quirrell, I've got some questions about Defence Against the Dark Arts I'd like to ask."
Quirrell turned to see a young man with dark golden hair staring at him with intense green eyes.
"Um, sorry, the teacher has... has things to do, business to attend to. Next time, next time."
Quirrell tried closing the door, but Leo's next words stopped him cold.
"Professor, I recently heard some rumours that seem related to why you're staying at Hogwarts to teach."
Quirrell's eyes darted away, suddenly nervous. "What... what rumours?"
Leo's lips curved upward. "It's hard to explain in just a few words."
Quirrell glanced around, seeing no one paying attention to their area.
"Alright, you... you come in and tell me."
Leo took in Quirrell's office—quite plain. No magic books, no alchemy or potion materials either.
Made sense. This guy would probably run the moment he got the Philosopher's Stone. Why acquire too many possessions?
Just like how the more trinkets on a worker's desk, the more the boss trusts them. Fewer decorations make them worry about someone preparing to quit.
"Student, now you can speak."
"Professor, my surname's Grafton." Leo leisurely sat down across from the desk. "I've got pretty good social connections and chat with lots of classmates. "Do you know how everyone evaluates you?"
Leo's eyes narrowed as he looked at Quirrell with a half-smile.
"How... how do they evaluate me?"
"Well, they say your classes are too theoretical. Their family elders told them Defence Against the Dark Arts should be interesting, with lots of magic practice."
"Oh right, I know several Slytherin friends—from the Greengrass family, the Malfoy family. They seem quite critical of the current classroom situation too."
"Especially one from the Malfoy family. That friend swore to me his father's a school governor and would help report on Defence class teaching, trying to get a professor who combines theory with practice."
"Oh, of course, I'm not saying you're bad; it's just..."
Leo spoke seriously while making things up. He'd been busy reading and studying—didn't actually know any Slytherins.
Well, at most he knew half of one. That Greengrass girl... Daphne, wasn't it?
But seeing Quirrell's pale face with fine sweat beading on his forehead under that turban, Leo felt the effect was decent.
Was Quirrell really this cowardly? Getting scared like this, when he dared let Voldemort possess him.
Plus, he'd just said a few random things—how could Quirrell actually believe it? Was this really a Ravenclaw graduate and top student?
Whatever. Someone who could be fooled by Tom into voluntarily offering his body couldn't be that smart anyway.
"If you don't continue as Defence Professor and leave Hogwarts, where do you plan to go?"
Leo suddenly stared into Quirrell's eyes, his gaze deep as if looking through the man at someone else entirely.
Quirrell froze for several seconds, his pupils dimming. He raised his hand to wipe away sweat, his mouth displaying a proper smile.
"Grafton, you're a Ravenclaw. Surely a clever young wizard too."
"Defence Against the Dark Arts involves magic of considerable power. Wouldn't it be better for first-year students to build a solid theoretical foundation first?"
Leo crossed his hands and nodded. "That makes sense."
"Quirrell's" smile was about to become more obvious.
"Professor, why aren't you stammering anymore?"
Leo smiled and moved his hand under the desk, touching his wand.
Interesting. Tom actually took direct control. Recovering this well?
"Quirrell" pulled at his stiff mouth corners. "Hehe, your observation skills are quite sharp. We Ravenclaws are very fortunate to have a new student like you."
"It's my personality problem—I get nervous facing many people but naturally become more fluent when there are fewer around."
"However, Defence Against the Dark Arts practice is still..."
Seeing the other party still wanted to deflect, Leo didn't want to waste time and directly raised his wand.
"Quirrell's" eyes sharpened, a hint of coldness flashing through.
"I already arranged with classmates to have lunch in ten minutes, so I'll be direct and not waste your time."
"Professor, I've self-studied some defence techniques from books. Like this Bluebell Flames, like this Reducto, like this Diffindo..."
The office immediately filled with swirling flames, tea sets shattering, cabinets getting slashed...
Throughout the process, Leo and "Quirrell" kept watching each other without looking away.
"Ha, of course, in front of you, these are all mere parlour tricks."
Leo waved his wand again and cast Reparo, restoring the office to its original state.
Demonstrating some power to show he could cause a big commotion in a short time was necessary. Basic politeness was also required.
"I just want to ask about some practical combat techniques."
"Of course, what you said's also right—most first-year students don't need exposure to practical combat so early, so..."
"Quirrell" nodded and smiled, but there wasn't much sincerity in his laughter.
"How about this—you're a very talented student and can completely try practical combat in advance."
"Once or twice a week, come to my office alone for tutoring."
"I will personally teach you combat techniques!"
Leo smiled, also without much sincerity. "Thank you for your guidance. I'm very honoured."
The wool had been successfully fleeced.
But looking at Tom like this, if he didn't pull some dirty tricks during tutoring, he wouldn't be Voldemort.
Wealth comes from risk, though. Precious knowledge was the same.
Of course, precautions were necessary. He should find old Dumbledore first and ask for advice.
Leo stood up to leave and departed the office.
A few minutes later, Quirrell began talking to himself.
"Master, those pure-blood students..."
"Fool, can't you see? That boy just wanted to extort you, get some benefits!"
"Master's right, so why still teach..."
"I need the Philosopher's Stone. The plan cannot fail. It's just a small episode. I'll teach you a Dark Arts spell—a variant of the Imperius Curse that takes several castings to control someone's mind, but it's stealthier and won't let those teachers notice anything unusual."
"Master, what if that child notices something's wrong himself..."
"You timid creature, with the Dark Arts spells I grant you, do you think that boy has studied Dark Arts or possesses extremely high Dark Arts talent? Otherwise, how could he possibly notice?"