As I made my way down the corridor toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, my footsteps echoed lightly against the stone floor. The torches flickered faintly along the walls, casting long shadows that danced with every stride I took. My mind, however, was focused—not on the flickering light, not even on the murmuring students gathering nearby—but on the man who would be teaching this class.
Albus Dumbledore.
The name alone carried weight. Even now, in his younger years, he was already a legend in the making—brilliant, eccentric, and unnervingly perceptive. He had that look in his eyes, that constant glimmer of curiosity mixed with an unfathomable depth of understanding. The kind of man who could see through people if he wanted to.
That's exactly what made him dangerous.
The moment I stepped into the classroom, his gaze briefly flicked to me. Just a second—just enough to send a faint spark of pressure through the room. Then he smiled, that soft, almost whimsical smile of his, and said warmly, "Ah, welcome, everyone. Let us begin."
I took my seat quietly near the back, beside Abraxas, who leaned slightly toward me."Careful with this one," he murmured, lips barely moving.I smirked. "Don't worry. I'm always careful."
Dumbledore began his lesson with the fluid grace of a seasoned scholar. "Today," he said, waving his wand lightly as a shimmering dome appeared before him, "we shall discuss one of the most vital defensive spells in all wizarding combat—the Protego charm, or, as it is commonly called, the Shield Charm."
The energy in the room shifted as every student leaned forward with curiosity. Wands rose as Dumbledore demonstrated again, slower this time. The barrier glowed brighter, deflecting a mild jinx he cast from his other hand.
"Protection," he said, "is not merely about strength. It is about timing, focus, and above all—will."
I didn't need the demonstration. I'd mastered the Shield Charm long before even stepping into this room. But now was an opportunity—a chance to leave a mark.
When Dumbledore called for us to try it ourselves, I raised my wand immediately. "Protego," I said firmly.
The shield shimmered into existence, smooth and solid, not a flicker of instability to be seen. The class turned to look. Some students were still fumbling to channel the spell properly, their shields cracking or fading after a second or two.
Dumbledore's gaze landed on me again—this time, intrigued. His eyes twinkled with that knowing glimmer. "Excellent, Mr. Riddle. That's one of the most stable shields I've seen today."
And then—
Ding.
The familiar chime of my system echoed in my head.
[You are the first to complete the spell successfully in class.][Quest Complete: "Defensive Excellence"][Reward Obtained: Dumbledore's Transfiguration Talent]
A small smile tugged at my lips as my mind absorbed the new flood of insight. I could feel it—the way the magic around me seemed to bend more smoothly, the understanding of shape, form, and magical structure becoming infinitely clearer.
By the time class ended, Dumbledore walked over to me, notebook in hand. "You've got a sharp grasp of magical theory, Tom," he said softly. "I think you'll appreciate these."
He handed me the notebook. Inside were handwritten notes—personal insights into spell construction, magical resistance formulas, even a few advanced shield concepts far beyond the curriculum.
I accepted it with a composed, polite smile. "Thank you, Professor. I'll study it well."
He nodded, that faint smile never fading. "I'm sure you will."
As I left the classroom, I could still feel his gaze following me for a moment—quiet, watchful, almost… evaluating.
I didn't need to look back to know that Dumbledore was already curious about me.
And that was fine. Let him be curious.Because one day soon, I'd make sure he understood exactly what kind of wizard he was dealing with.