Professor Binns looked confused.
For the first time since the start of the lecture, he lifted his gaze from the notebook in his hands and looked down toward the classroom.
Draco's originally pale face had flushed bright red like a monkey's backside. But now that he had started, he couldn't back down. He kept clapping vigorously while forcing out insincere praise.
Meanwhile, the Ravenclaw students around him stared with strange expressions, while the Slytherins looked utterly stunned at the behavior of their pure-blood classmate.
They simply couldn't understand it.
A Slytherin student could actually be so shameless that he would say such obvious nonsense—lies that even a dog wouldn't believe?
Yet while everyone else was bewildered, Professor Binns suddenly tossed aside his transparent notebook and wiped the corner of his eye emotionally.
"I knew it. One day, someone would finally understand my class."
He looked at Draco with a deeply moved expression. The words a true kindred spirit is hard to find seemed practically written across his translucent face.
"Well done, Mazda. Ten points to Slytherin!"
"Professor… my name is Malfoy," Draco said awkwardly.
"Very well, Malaka," Binns replied smoothly, still getting it wrong. "You are the most outstanding student I have taught in the past several hundred years!"
After that moment, Professor Binns's entire demeanor changed.
His tone and enthusiasm suddenly became full of life. Drawing from the eras he had personally experienced and the history he had studied for centuries, he began describing events vividly and passionately.
The students stared in disbelief—then quickly became overjoyed.
Feather quills that hadn't moved all class finally sprang to life as students hurried to jot down page after page of rich notes.
…
"It's unbelievable. That ghost professor actually knows so much about magical history."
On the way to the Great Hall for dinner, students could be heard discussing the History of Magic class everywhere.
Draco, now hailed as the hero who had "awakened the sleeping Professor Binns," strutted proudly through the corridors with his back straight and chin raised, eager to boast about his achievement to anyone who would listen.
"Pansy, did you know? The moment I saw Professor Binns, I recognized the depth hidden within him."
Draco was currently bragging to a small witch who resembled a pug.
"The reason his lectures make people sleepy is because, after so many years of teaching, he lost his passion and was just going through the motions. But my praise helped him rediscover… rediscover…"
He leaned toward Lykos and whispered quickly.
"What was it again?"
"His lost passion for educating students," Lykos reminded him for what felt like the hundredth time.
He really couldn't understand how Draco kept forgetting such a short line.
"Ah, right! His passion for teaching!" Draco grinned smugly and continued boasting to the girl beside him, Pansy Parkinson.
Pansy gazed at Draco with admiration, convinced he was incredibly impressive.
Even while eating, Draco kept bragging.
With a piece of cheese pie in his mouth, he spoke unclearly while showing off to older students.
Lykos quietly moved a little farther away, pretending he didn't know him while silently enjoying the glory from the shadows.
"But earlier you were trying to sneak out of class," Theodore Nott asked curiously. "Why did you suddenly decide to 'discover Professor Binns's inner depth'?"
"That was… that was just a final test!" Draco insisted stubbornly.
Goyle, sitting nearby, clearly disagreed. After swallowing a large chunk of steak, he leaned toward Nott.
"Lykos definitely told him to do it," he whispered—completely unaware that everyone around them could hear his voice. "Draco isn't that smart on his own."
Crabbe nodded honestly.
"Sometimes Draco isn't even as smart as me. For example, I knew that cheese pie tasted bad."
They had meant to show their closeness with Draco—but instead they had completely exposed him.
"Crabbe! Goyle!"
Draco angrily slammed the cheese pie back onto his plate and immediately lunged at the two fat boys, wrestling with them.
Lykos quietly moved his chair even farther away.
Just then, a voice suddenly sounded in Lykos's ear.
"Come to my office again tonight."
Lykos froze.
His gaze swept around the hall before finally locking onto the professors' table in the distance.
From a seat on the right side of the Great Hall, Quirrell was staring directly back at him.
…
Before curfew, when the corridors were empty, Lykos quietly pushed open the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office.
"Did the Dark Lord summon me for something?" he asked quickly.
"No, this time it's a personal matter," Quirrell said gently, smiling at him.
"A personal matter?" Lykos's expression darkened slightly. "My main task right now is to protect my identity. The two of us aren't supposed to know each other. I can't keep coming to your office without a reason."
"I know, of course I know," Quirrell said, nodding. "But please don't be anxious, Lykos. I have something important I need your help with."
"I'm just a first-year student. What could I possibly help you with?" Lykos said impatiently.
He truly didn't want to be involved with Quirrell any more than necessary. The longer he could delay things, the better.
"It's actually quite simple. You'll definitely be able to help," Quirrell said as he poured Lykos a cup of tea.
"You should know that Slytherin has a Defense Against the Dark Arts class tomorrow morning."
"That's right," Lykos replied.
"I'll be the one teaching it," Quirrell continued, looking directly into his eyes. "But to conceal my identity, I can't reveal any real ability."
"My goal is for everyone to see me as a joke—to make myself someone nobody respects. That way, even if I slip up occasionally, no one will suspect me."
"I don't think that's a very good plan," Lykos said casually, glancing at the teacup on the table. "You studied at Hogwarts yourself. You were even the Muggle Studies professor before this."
"Do you really think Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall don't know your true ability?"
"It doesn't matter," Quirrell said with a dismissive wave. "I'll say that I suffered setbacks during my travels, and that it changed my personality."
"A major personality shift leading to a decline in spellcasting ability—that's perfectly reasonable."
Lykos curled his lip slightly but didn't bother telling him the truth—
Dumbledore had never stopped watching him from the very beginning.
"It's really simple," Quirrell continued, repeating his request. "All you have to do is ask me a few questions during class."
"Once this is done, your task will be finished for the time being. For the next week, you'll be free to enjoy life at Hogwarts."
…
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