“Hey, Vincent!” George said.
“Long time no see—” Fred added.
They introduced their latest creation, Puking Pastilles, which looked strikingly colorful in their hands.
“This is our newest masterpiece!” George said proudly.
“Guaranteed to give anyone a big surprise!” Fred added.
Vincent, holding his books, had “coincidentally” bumped into the Weasley twins while walking through the corridor.
Thanks to Ron, Vincent knew a great deal about his twin brothers.
“Good morning, George, Fred.”
Vincent exchanged very brief greetings that yielded a torrent of enthusiastic explanations from them.
The Weasley twins were actually extremely easy to get along with.
Perhaps due to the family culture of the Weasleys, they were both exceptionally warm individuals.
As long as you became their friend, even if you were a person of few words, you could still get along with them wonderfully.
Vincent was very patient.
He was willing to listen to the twins talk about their prank ideas without showing any sign of lecturing them, treating their concepts simply as fun ideas.
At first, George had thought Vincent was a rigid stick-in-the-mud, but he never expected him to be the first-year student who understood them best out of this entire intake—even better than their own little brother.
Fred tossed the candy up and down in his hand, his eager expression prompting Vincent to quickly change the subject.
“You could try testing it on small animals first, like Ron’s rat. I’ve noticed it barely moves and eats a huge amount, which really isn’t good for its health.”
Vincent naturally didn’t know how to care for a rat.
He was merely naming the creature he found most repulsive.
Every time he looked at that rat, Vincent felt uncomfortable, and the rat’s eyes seemed to hold little fondness for him either.
It was Ron’s pet, so Vincent simply kept his distance and refrained from doing anything else.
However, if the Weasley twins needed a test subject for their new candy, using it on a rat seemed far more acceptable than using it on a human.
George winked at him.
“If Ron asks about it—”
Fred laughed and stuffed a handful of candies into Vincent’s hands.
“We’ll definitely be the first to sell you out.”
Vincent pocketed the candies.
“Fair enough. If he really comes looking for me, I’ll apologize sincerely—maybe offer him a piece of candy.”
The Weasley twins leaned against each other and burst into laughter.
They could already imagine Ron coming to confront Vincent, only to be brushed off in a few words.
Ron’s brain couldn’t possibly compete with Vincent’s.
“If it’s meant for pets, why not feed it to Filch’s cat?”
The grudge between the Weasley twins and Filch had been forged in their first year, after all; what was a little vomiting candy between enemies?
“The Hogwarts staff certainly have their own distinct personalities,” Vincent remarked conversationally, fingering the candy in his pocket.
“Filch staring at students all day goes without saying, and the other professors seem alright. It’s just the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—it’s always hard to figure out what he’s trying to do.”
Then, the conversation naturally drifted to Professor Quirrell.
The Weasley twins had just created a new item and were at their peak excitement, ready to chat about any topic.
“Setting everything else aside, I don’t know what grand purpose that turban serves,” Vincent said, laying his cards on the table.
“I only know Muggles have various habits for hiding secrets, though the wizarding world shouldn’t need those things. Magic can solve most problems, after all. A gulp of Polyjuice Potion would be far more effective than any physical disguise.”
Fred casually chimed in, “Surely Professor Quirrell isn’t trying to cover something up? Could he really have a secret hidden behind his head?”
“What’s behind Professor Quirrell’s head?” George asked, his interest piqued.
“Well, it’s not like he has an extra face back there,” Fred said, tossing a Puking Pastille, letting his imagination run wild.
“Professor Quirrell is the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
Maybe he really knows something unknown and tested it secretly?
“After all, no one in Hogwarts knows Dark Magic better than the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, right?”
That hit the nail on the head.
Vincent distinctly felt the Weasley twins take a far more targeted interest than before.
Neither of them had ever encountered Dark Magic, so who knew what effects Dark Magic might bring?
“Ever since I walked into my first Defense Against the Dark Arts class at Hogwarts, Professor Quirrell has never taken off that turban,” Vincent said softly.
“Is it really just a personal habit? Personally, I think the excuse he gave is pretty flimsy. Maybe he really did end up with an extra face on the back of his head.”
George and Fred exchanged a glance.
“Maybe…” George said.
“There really is a special reason?” Fred continued.
Vincent smiled faintly and said, “It’s just idle thought.
We can’t actually run up to Professor Quirrell and pull off his turban to see what secret he’s hiding.
“Anyway, I have things to do. I’ll head back to Ravenclaw first. Talk to you later.”
Vincent turned and left without looking back once.
As for what the Weasley twins would do—
They had simply bumped into each other and shared a casual chat.
It was just a joke, a harmless bit of speculation and banter.
Who could prove he had done anything based on those few words?
Even if the Weasley twins did nothing at all, Vincent lost nothing.
*
A week later, the Weasley twins ran into Vincent again in the library.
This time, however, they weren’t cheerful like last time; instead, they looked quite downcast.
This was a remarkably rare mood to see on the Weasley twins.
Vincent didn’t even need to use any diplomatic tricks before they poured out everything they had done.
In their minds, Vincent was on the same front as them.
Now that the plan had failed, it was only natural to share the story with their partner.
That was right—they had failed.
The Weasley twins had tried using rats, spells, and various other tricks, but none had succeeded in making Professor Quirrell take off his turban.
Be it an accident or a deliberate attempt, he managed to dodge every single one.
“If he weren’t the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts…” Fred said, resting his chin on his hands as he sat across from Vincent.
“I’d suspect he could foresee the future well enough to teach Divination,” George added, slumping on the table with his head propped up on one hand, looking utterly exhausted.
“It’s fine as long as you two are alright,” Vincent comforted them casually.
“If Professor Quirrell noticed anything suspicious, Professor McGonagall wouldn’t let you get away with playing pranks on a teacher.”
He patted the twins’ shoulders, indicating they didn’t need to worry.
Hearing this, George felt a bit offended.
“You’re underestimating us…”
“Even Professor McGonagall can’t catch us every time…”
“It’s just Professor Quirrell. He was merely lucky.”
Vincent quickly raised his hands in surrender.
“You’re right, Professor Quirrell was just lucky. For someone with his demeanor to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, you couldn’t find anyone luckier than him.”
Having placated the Weasley twins, Vincent prepared to think of another approach.
Holding his books, he stepped out of the library, the expression on his face far from relaxed.
The cold wind swept through his school robes with the chill of impending winter.
Nearly half a year had passed, yet the unsolved mystery still hung over his head like a spiderweb.
Vincent found this state of affairs somewhat unacceptable.
He had never encountered a problem that took him this long to resolve.
“What do you hope to get from Quirrell?” A magnetic voice called out from behind, interrupting Vincent’s thoughts.
He turned to see Professor Snape step out from the shadows, those deep eyes seeming capable of piercing through everything.
Vincent didn’t know how much Professor Snape actually knew, but this professor was by no means an easy opponent.
“Good afternoon, Professor Snape. I don’t quite understand what you mean. Perhaps I simply wish to learn more Defense Against the Dark Arts knowledge from Professor Quirrell. Books in the library aren’t as effective as being taught by a living person, after all.”
Like hell they were.
A teacher like Professor Quirrell would be better off not teaching at all.
If Hogwarts had teacher evaluations, Professor Quirrell would definitely be the first one fired, and the second would be the Professor Snape standing right in front of him.
“I thought only the dunderheads in Gryffindor had brains stuffed with fluxweed. Since when did Ravenclaw start accepting students like this?” Professor Snape’s voice carried sharp sarcasm, his gaze piercing as if trying to probe Vincent’s soul.
Snape knew Vincent was plotting something against Quirrell, and Vincent knew Snape knew he was up to something, but for now, both had to pretend ignorance.
Vincent offered a polite smile, unfazed by Snape’s intimidation.
“Professor Snape, I’ve heard that you possess a profound understanding of Potions, and that you yourself are a remarkably outstanding Potions Master. Regardless of the subject, gaining results requires a spirit of exploration. I assumed you would appreciate students who dare to explore.”
Snape’s brow twitched slightly.
He clearly hadn’t expected Vincent to respond like this.
“Oh, really? And what have you explored, then?” The acrimony in his voice hadn’t lessened in the slightest.
“I am merely seeking knowledge, Professor Snape. After all, knowledge is the most precious treasure in the magical world.”
His response was both clever and cautious—neither answering directly nor avoiding the question entirely.
Professor Snape’s gaze grew sharper, as if weighing every word Vincent spoke.
“Then you had better be careful about the knowledge you seek. Some knowledge can drag you into danger.” His tone carried a clear warning.
Snape detested these reckless students, whether they were from Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.
Why couldn’t they act like normal students, focusing on studying and earning house points for their house, instead of poking their noses into useless matters and needlessly increasing his workload?
Especially this Ravenclaw brat.
Snape couldn’t catch a single fault with him in class, yet the boy had the spare energy to meddle with Quirrell outside of class.
If Dumbledore hadn’t asked him to pay special attention, Snape wouldn’t want to waste a single drop of energy on him.
Vincent Riddle—Snape didn’t know the reason behind Dumbledore’s special interest in him.
He was just an ordinary boy from the Muggle world.
Was it because of that ridiculously common surname?
Not everyone could turn out to be *that* guy.
Surely Hogwarts wasn’t “lucky” enough to produce two dark lords in a row from the same place.
Vincent nodded slightly, expressing understanding.
“I will, Professor Snape. After all, safety always comes first.” His reply appeared exceedingly polite, yet Professor Snape’s expression didn’t improve in the slightest.
“Then you’d better be extra careful, lest you end up causing unnecessary trouble for Madam Pomfrey.”
*
The encounter with Professor Snape was merely an interlude, and Vincent didn’t take it to heart.
He had far too many matters to deal with, and Professor Snape didn’t rank high on his priority list for now.
However…
he noticed another change.
Hermione had suddenly begun keeping her distance from Harry and Ron.
Previously, she had simply reduced how often she appeared around them, but now even Vincent rarely saw her.
Failing to spot her in the library once again, Vincent voiced his confusion: “Can someone tell me what happened?”
Harry rubbed his nose uncomfortably, his eyes darting away.
“What? Nothing happened.”
His answer sounded thoroughly guilty, clearly withholding information.
Vincent had thought that after the troll incident, the relationship between Hermione and the two boys had improved dramatically.
He hadn’t expected another rift to form so soon.
Ron sat nearby, looking rather quiet.
He didn’t answer Vincent’s question directly, but his expression betrayed plenty.
Vincent needed more information to unravel his puzzle.
He would have to talk to Hermione in private; perhaps she could offer a new perspective.
Ah, he remembered now.
Last time he went looking for Hermione, her attitude had been a bit strange.
A whole week had passed—had they really not made up yet?