In just one short week, Victor Wick's Defense Against the Dark Arts class had already become the most popular course at Hogwarts.
It was all thanks to his magical mirror.
When facing the younger students, Victor would lead them into the mirror to witness real dark creatures.
During lessons for the upper years, Victor would take them inside the mirror to engage in extremely realistic simulated combat against projections of various dark creatures.
Whether it was theory or practice, he provided the students with the most authentic experience possible.
He was equally popular among the professors, especially the women.
After Professor McGonagall shared the beauty potion he had brewed, that popularity became practically set in stone.
"I'll be meeting with your mother this afternoon to discuss the exclusive distribution rights for this beauty potion," Victor said with a smile, looking at Shafiq.
Shafiq's face was flushed with excitement. "Professor... is it true? Is this... is this potion really being given to the Shafiq family for distribution?"
"I told you, Andrey... you work for me, and I help you restore your family's glory." Victor patted Shafiq on the shoulder. "I rarely go back on my word. You... should understand what I mean."
Shafiq gazed at Victor, his eyes filled with gratitude and resolve.
There was no doubt that a beauty potion capable of making women look younger—with results already proven by the Hogwarts staff—would be an absolute goldmine once it hit the market.
Yet here Victor was, handing the business directly to the Shafiq family, without even shortchanging them on the profit margins.
It was clear that Professor Wick truly cared about his promise to help restore the family, rather than just paying it lip service.
However, as a Slytherin, Shafiq remained perfectly clear-headed. If he remained nothing more than an expendable teaching assistant, he wouldn't be worthy of such a massive investment.
No one was ever kind to someone else to this extent without a reason.
Since Victor chose to throw his full support behind the Shafiq family, it proved he had more important—or perhaps even more dangerous—tasks for him in the future.
Still, many things didn't need to be spelled out explicitly.
As long as there was a mutual understanding, that was enough.
But what did that matter? He only needed to grasp one simple truth.
He, Shafiq, needed an opportunity, and Victor had given him one. That was sufficient.
...
It was Friday, and Victor finally had an afternoon free of classes.
He told Shafiq to take Lucky over to Hagrid's to play with Fang, then left Hogwarts alone.
For his plan involving the Philosopher's Stone to proceed smoothly, he had been deliberately cultivating a relationship with Hagrid from the very beginning.
He needed to leak some information to Hagrid...
It had to be said that Hagrid's loose tongue was indeed very useful at times.
Of course, Victor couldn't be blamed for this; he had simply learned it from Dumbledore.
Hogsmeade wasn't particularly busy on a Friday, as Hogwarts students were only permitted to visit on Saturdays.
Victor stepped into the Three Broomsticks.
A woman who still possessed quite a bit of charm immediately came forward to greet him, her smile as warm as a spring breeze. "Professor Wick, welcome! What can I get you today? How about some of our freshly brewed mead? Professor Dumbledore speaks very highly of it."
"I'm afraid I don't drink, Madam Rosmerta," Victor said with a smile. "Just a glass of honey water and a standard set meal will do."
"You're the same as always..." Rosmerta said helplessly. "When will I ever earn even a single Nut from you for a drink?"
In the charming landlady's memory, Victor almost never touched alcohol.
At first, she thought her selection didn't suit his taste, but she felt much better after hearing that Victor only ordered lemon tea even at that grumpy Aberforth's place.
"There will be a time," Victor chuckled. "One day, I'll drink my fill here."
"Well then, I'll have to make sure I live a long time... Maybe before I die, I'll see that wish fulfilled." Rosmerta laughed softly and turned back to prepare his meal.
Victor sat by the window. He had arrived early; Mrs. Shafiq hadn't appeared yet.
While he waited, he picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet and began reading it leisurely.
Suddenly, Victor's nose twitched as a faint scent of perfume drifted from across the table—a very familiar one.
"Dorcas... it's been a long time." Victor set down the newspaper and looked up at the woman before him. A faint, almost imperceptible ripple crossed his calm eyes.
Dorcas Meadowes sat quietly opposite him. Her dark, curly hair was loosely pinned back, with a few stray strands framing her face, making her sun-kissed skin look exceptionally soft in the dim light by the window.
Compared to years ago, her features remained sharp, her hazel eyes steady and keen, though they now held a trace of exhaustion.
Dressed in a simple, clean set of plain robes, she carried a cold aura that warned others to stay away, yet that familiar scent of perfume betrayed the parts of her that hadn't changed.
Dorcas pursed her lips slightly, her elegant face devoid of expression, but her slightly quickened breathing gave away her inner turmoil.
"You've lost weight," Victor sighed softly, his gaze somewhat complicated as he looked at his former girlfriend.
His calm words were like a stone skipping across the ice of her heart, shattering it.
Dorcas opened her mouth, a flood of anger and resentment ready to pour out onto the man before her.
These furious accusations had been bottled up for far too long!
And yet... when the words finally came, they turned into a soft greeting.
"Victor... how have you been?"
"The same as always... though Professor Dumbledore gave me a job recently." Victor took a small sip of his honey water.
Dorcas's hands gripped her sleeves, her knuckles turning white.
"Ever since I found out you were working at Hogwarts, I wanted to see you. But..." Dorcas said softly, "I know you don't like me visiting while you're working, so... I've been staying in Hogsmeade all week. I knew I'd run into you eventually."
"Dorcas... the past is in the past." Victor's fingers rested lightly on the edge of his glass. "I only hope you can live well from now on."
Dorcas's face turned slightly pale at his words.
She took a deep breath, staring intently at Victor. Her once cold, sharp eyes were now as hot as fire. "But... Victor, the war is over! You don't have to keep living like this!"
Victor understood what she meant.
But he knew better than anyone... the war was far from over.