The bell finally rang after I had read most of the book, making me feel confident that I might just skip this class in the future.
"That teacher is scary," Val muttered, seeming to agree with me, which only made me feel more on edge whenever Quirrell's gaze wandered over to me.
I stood up from my seat to head back to the house, but a hand placed on my shoulder stopped me. I looked up to see the professor, offering his bumbling smile to Pansy and me.
"D- Dumbledore wanted to see y- you after class."
I gulped, keeping my head down, avoiding eye contact with him.
Pansy glanced over at me. I was doing a good job of maintaining my composure, as she seemed to have no clue how much Professor Quirrell unsettled me.
"Would you like me to take your books again?" she asked.
I nodded, eager to leave the conversation quickly. She took my books and headed to the door, the last of the class to eagerly leave.
Once she exited, I was left alone with Quirrell.
"Shall I go?" I asked politely, starting to move toward the door.
However, the hand on my shoulder clamped down harder, keeping me from moving.
"You're doing a very poor job of hiding your fear…" he said, his voice suddenly devoid of its stutter. His words flowed smoothly and eloquently, making me realize that he had been faking his nervous condition the entire time.
"I don't know what you're referring to," I replied, keeping my eyes fixed on the door.
Quirrell chuckled, his grip tightening further, preventing my escape.
"Good instincts. Good liar for your age. And a Slytherin…" he mumbled before finally removing his hand from my shoulder. He turned me toward the front of the class, where I had left the scorch mark.
"I assume you don't know many spells due to being deprived of such, leaving you with only first-year spells... Morons. Talent needs to be fostered," he muttered with a smirk, though I caught every word clearly.
Quirrell grabbed a copy of the textbook and flipped to a page in the middle.
"Show me the Knockback Jinx. Flipendo," he instructed, his voice sharp and commanding, leaving no room for argument. His hand pointed at the wall I had damaged earlier.
I was confused. Though he was undoubtedly the source of my fear, he seemed strangely intent on helping me grow. My thoughts were in turmoil as I drew my wand from my waistband. The swirling colors of the wood helped me focus.
I noticed Quirrell staring at my wand again, his eyes narrowed in thought, but I wanted to comply quickly so I could leave.
"Flipendo!" I shouted, feeling the power surge through my wand. The amplified energy shot toward the wall, pushing back several stones and leaving a noticeable dent in the stonework.
My stomach dropped slightly, worrying about how much trouble I might be in for damaging the castle. Without thinking, I whirled my wand in a clockwise motion, feeling the energy flow through me. I cast a spell I was familiar with but had yet to use.
"Reparo."
I watched as the stone slowly reverted to its original form, though I couldn't do anything about the scorch mark I had made earlier.
"Oh, you know the Mending Charm?" Quirrell asked, flipping through the book absentmindedly.
"Yes. Even though I just started, I've seen my father use it many times," I replied.
Quirrell nodded slowly, seemingly satisfied, before abruptly closing the book with a loud bang.
"I'm sure you understand the importance of keeping certain things about yourself hidden from others," he said, still staring at the scorch mark, not sparing me a glance.
I nodded silently. I had lived my whole life with that knowledge. Though I felt a strange urge to confide in him, the same lifelong fear, now mixed with his piercing gaze, kept me silent. I held my tongue, knowing the less I said, the less chance there was of a negative response.
Quirrell gave me one frosty glance before speaking again.
"Very good. I expect nothing in this room to leave this room."
I nodded once more as he continued.
"Starting next week, come here for private tutoring and homework. You have a good future ahead of you if you don't waste it."
Without another word, the door slammed open, revealing the empty hallway. The chilling tension in the air seemed to dissipate as Quirrell moved back into his private office without so much as a glance in my direction.
Once outside, Val finally squirmed around my arm. Clearly, he had been too terrified to move in the presence of Quirrell's true personality.
"He is scary…" Val hissed, trying to calm himself beneath my robes.
I nodded in understanding.
"Yeah… But I think I need to go without you."
Val tightened around me at that last statement.
"Why!?" he protested.
I sighed, keeping silent as we passed other students.
"I don't want him to notice you. I can handle it myself," I replied firmly.
Val wriggled some more beneath my robes, unhappy with the idea.
I didn't like it either, but I felt this was an opportunity I couldn't pass up—nor one he would let me escape from. I felt as if I had no choice.
"Pureblood," I muttered with slight disdain in my voice, barely noticeable as I walked into the house.
I observed only a few students in the lounging area, most of the others likely in the Great Hall studying or outside on the grounds.
"Lucas."
I instantly recognized the voice. Pansy stood up from the leather couch she had been lounging on and walked over to me.
I nodded at her and headed to my room to drop off Val before making my way to the headmaster's office.
Pansy followed me up to my door, pausing outside with a frown.
"How was your meeting with the headmaster?" she finally asked after much deliberation.
I looked at her for a moment, my mind churning with ideas on how to let Val into most of my classes but keep him away during my private lessons.
"How do you feel about wizards with close familial ties to Muggles?" I asked.
Pansy was stunned by the unexpected question. She almost thought I was trying to avoid talking about my meeting, but the intense look in my bluish-green eyes told her it was a question I needed answered.
Still confused, she gave her answer slowly and carefully, wondering if it was some sort of trick.
"Mudbloods? Their blood is beneath ours…" she replied, but when I lowered my gaze, almost urging her for more, she continued. "They are just beneath our pure bloodline. Their blood is tainted."
When she looked back at me, she was met with my snide smile.
"Of course, just wondering how you might answer," I said, my gaze colder than she had ever seen before.
Pansy subconsciously gulped as my eyes shifted away from her and toward my room. Without another word, I walked inside, leaving her stunned, staring at my door.
She was lost in thought until Draco's voice called out to her.
"Pansy, you okay?"
She glanced over at Draco and his two friends.
"Yes, of course. I was just lost in my thoughts," she muttered, trying to regain her composure.
But just as she turned to leave for her own room, the door in front of her flung open, making her jump in surprise.
"Hey, Lucas! How was the meeting with the Headmaster?" Draco asked.
But Pansy noticed something off—the cold eyes and sneered expression Lucas wore as he spoke to Draco.
"No, I just had to drop my books off first," Lucas lied smoothly.
Pansy furrowed her brows. She knew he was lying. He was a fantastic liar, his mask flawless.
'Why would he bring it out now?' she wondered, still unable to fathom the idea of a Slytherin harboring sympathy for Mudbloods.
"If you'll excuse me," Lucas said with a cold gaze masked by a fake smile as he walked toward the entrance.
Pansy stared at his back, confused by his behavior. As she watched Draco and his friends leave, she was about to return to her room when a strange hissing sound made her freeze.
She glanced at Lucas's door and gulped.