"Quiet!"
Whether he had finally composed himself or was acting under strict orders, Quirrell eventually returned to the podium, his face flushed. He tried to salvage whatever shreds of authority he had left as a professor.
"Everyone, back to your seats!"
Fortunately, the title of "Professor" still held enough weight to intimidate the young wizards. So, despite Quirrell looking like an absolute wreck, the students obediently settled down.
Seeing that his words still carried some weight, Quirrell breathed a secret sigh of relief. He shot a glare at Tom—a look filled with anger and a lingering trace of fear.
But no matter what, for his Master's grand plan and for the sake of his own life, he had to force himself to remain calm.
"T-this... this matter ends here. We... we will continue with the lesson."
He had realized the truth: this cat was a loose cannon. As long as the creature was around, he was in constant danger of being exposed.
To avoid drawing the cat's attention further, Quirrell didn't even dare deduct points from Hufflepuff. He just wanted to hastily drag the topic back to the curriculum and see if he could piece his disguise back together.
However, Tom wasn't satisfied with Quirrell's performance.
[Wait, Professor. You didn't stutter at all just now!]
Tom had gone to great lengths to "cure" Quirrell's ailments—at least the stuttering part. How could he just let him slide back into his old habits?
"I..."
Quirrell hesitated. Looking at the solemn-faced Tom and the curiosity written on every student's face, he knew he couldn't just brush this off.
After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice smooth and clear.
"I have my reasons, and this is not something I can discuss with anyone. Is that clear? Also, Mr. Lovegood, please stop disrupting the class order. If there is a next time, I will take points from Hufflepuff."
[Of course. But Professor, I heard you voluntarily applied for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, didn't you?]
"Yes. Is there a problem with that?"
Desperate to end the conversation, Quirrell just went along with Tom's line of questioning.
[In that case, considering your behavior and current state, am I to understand that you are intentionally refusing to teach us properly?]
Tom's handwriting was neat, but to Quirrell, the words felt like daggers plunging into his heart.
[If that is the case, perhaps the Headmaster should consider finding a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.]
"No! That's not it!"
Reading Tom's words, Quirrell panicked instantly. He shouted the denial reflexively, his face draining of color.
His mission at Hogwarts wasn't complete. If he got kicked out now, he was dead!
[Since that's not the case, surely the Professor knows what to do? I assume you can teach a proper class now, right? Also, you might want to do something about that smell.]
"...I understand."
Quirrell was silent for a long moment. Finally, he took a deep breath, nodded, and without punishing Tom for his insolence, restarted the lesson.
For the rest of the class, it was like Quirrell had been swapped with a different person. His lecture was logical, clear, and substantial. Even though he was still wearing what looked like beggar's rags, his demeanor was night and day compared to before.
It wasn't until the bell rang and the young wizards filed out of the classroom that the whispering began.
"Merlin's beard, did you see that? Tom actually cured Professor Quirrell!"
"I wouldn't call it a cure, exactly. Felt more like he got exposed."
"But why would the Professor fake that stutter? It doesn't do him any good."
"Who knows?"
---
Ron walked behind Harry, his mind a jumbled mess. He stared at Tom, who was currently being swarmed by a crowd of students up ahead, and muttered, "He actually did it..."
"What?" Harry asked instinctively, not having caught the words.
"I said, he really made Professor Quirrell 'change,'" Ron said, his tone complicated. "Even if the process was a bit... unique, Quirrell really turned into a competent professor."
"Yeah," Harry nodded, feeling equally conflicted. He had hoped Tom could change Quirrell, but he never expected it to play out like this.
"Don't you guys find it strange?" Hermione frowned, lowering her voice. "Why was Professor Quirrell pretending?"
"Probably because he was scared?" Ron blurted out.
"But what is he afraid of?" Arianna asked softly but clearly. "This is Hogwarts. With A... with Dumbledore here, this is the safest place in the wizarding world. Why would he be afraid?"
"Maybe the person he's afraid of is right here at Hogwarts?" Harry guessed, his mind immediately drifting to Snape.
"Leaving that aside, his attitude toward Tom was weird, too," Hermione said, her brain working in overdrive. "After getting humiliated like that, any normal professor wouldn't just let it slide. Even if they didn't give detention, they'd at least take a few points from Hufflepuff. But Quirrell didn't even try to deduct points. And..."
"So what? Snape didn't take points from Hufflepuff either," Ron countered instinctively.
"That's different!" Hermione shook her head. "Tom was messing around in Potions, sure, but he actually brewed a successful potion in the end. Plus, Snape wasn't humiliated the way Quirrell was. But today? Quirrell was made to look like a fool in front of everyone, and his secret was exposed. To not get angry? To not take points? Do you think that's likely?"
"Well..." Ron was stumped.
It was true. Unlike the previous days, Tom's behavior today felt more like a pure prank.
"Also, did you notice? Professor Quirrell's reactions earlier were bizarre. When that gale hit him and his clothes shredded, his first instinct was to cover the back of his head. And when Tom mentioned replacing him, his reaction was way too intense, wasn't it?"
Hearing Hermione's points, the group fell into silence. Thinking back, Quirrell's behavior was indeed suspicious at every turn—evasive, as if he were hiding something.
"I've decided," Harry suddenly said.
"Decided what?"
The three of them—no, five of them, as Tom had pulled a vanishing act from his admirers, dragging Hannah along to join the four Gryffindors—looked at him curiously, waiting for the Savior's insight.
"I'm going back," Harry said firmly.
"Back? Why?"
"Something isn't right with Professor Quirrell." Harry frowned. "He's so terrified, plus all those weird reactions... I feel like he's hiding a secret. Maybe it has something to do with whatever is under the trapdoor on the third floor. So, I want to go back and check."
"But what are you going to see by going back?" Ron didn't get it.
"I don't know," Harry admitted honestly. "I just have a feeling I need to check. Right now."
The group exchanged glances and finally nodded. "Let's go, then."
Seeing his friends support him, Harry smiled and turned back toward the classroom.
"!"
However, before they even reached the door, Tom's ears perked up instantly. He quickly whipped out that familiar bedsheet and threw it over the group.
"Tom, what are you—"
Hermione, who hadn't experienced this drill before, started to ask a question but was immediately silenced by Tom's paw gently covering her mouth.
[Shh. Listen!]