At that moment, Hermes finally realized that he had been fooled by Dumbledore.
How could the greatest wizard of the modern age—the universally acknowledged pinnacle of the entire wizarding world—possibly be a helpless old man?
Calcifer lay atop the coals, watching the unfolding drama with undisguised amusement.
“Actually…
what you’re thinking isn’t entirely wrong.”
He sighed and looked at the soot-blackened bricks lining the fireplace.
“An old man who has spent his entire life in unbearable loneliness, never meeting anyone who truly understood him, suddenly encounters someone he can share his secrets with—someone whose strength is equal to his own.
Under those circumstances, it would indeed be easy for him to lower his guard.”
Hermes: “…”
After a brief silence, he raised one hand and waved.
The coals beneath Calcifer rolled over and tumbled into the depths of the fireplace, taking the flame demon burning atop them along for the ride.
After stumbling around for a moment, Calcifer crawled out of the pile of coal cinders.
Before he could begin cursing, however, a Galleon thrown by Hermes came crashing down.
“Draw me a hot bath.
I want to relax.”
“You f—” Calcifer abruptly swallowed his curse.
“Of course!
Calcifer is delighted to serve you.”
His expression instantly became fawning.
He nimbly swallowed the Galleon, and a fierce blaze erupted from his body.
A continuous stream of heat flowed from the fireplace toward the third floor of the Castle, where Hermes’s private living quarters were located.
For once, Quirrell had acted like a decent human being and finished teaching that day’s lessons himself instead of forcing an unprepared Hermes to replace him immediately.
At that moment, therefore, Hermes wanted nothing more than to relax.
Half an hour later, he returned to his office carrying a candlestick.
“Professor…”
Harry and Ron sat amid towering stacks of test papers, both wearing deeply aggrieved expressions.
Not the slightest hint of guilt appeared on Hermes’s face despite his shameless exploitation of child labor.
“Have you finished grading the multiple-choice and fill-in-the-blank questions?”
He casually picked up one of the papers and skimmed through it.
If the two young wizards before him had possessed enough knowledge to evaluate the short-answer and essay questions, he would gladly have made them finish the entire job.
“There are only a few left,” Harry answered immediately without even raising his head.
His familiar and practiced response caused Ron to glance at him repeatedly.
Why did Harry seem so experienced at this?
Thinking back to how naturally Harry had accepted the work when Professor Moriarty assigned it to them, Ron’s mouth twitched.
In the end, however, he suppressed the strange suspicion that had surfaced in his mind.
Before long, the final test paper was placed in front of Hermes.
At his indication, Harry and Ron left the office.
As they stepped into the corridor, Ron thought he heard another voice from inside.
“You’re nothing but a profiteer!
This wasn’t included in the price of that Galleon…”
Before he could turn around, the office door had already closed behind them.
“Did you hear something?” Ron asked.
Harry looked back at the closed wooden door and shrugged.
“You probably imagined it.”
With that, he began walking toward the Great Hall.
“Come on.
If we don’t hurry, we’ll miss dinner.”
…
The following morning, the first-year Slytherins and Gryffindors arrived for Defense Against the Dark Arts still wearing the dazed expressions of people who had not fully awakened.
They shuffled into the classroom like a procession of walking corpses.
Squeak—
The classroom door was suddenly pushed open, slamming against the stone wall behind it with a dull thud.
Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, his platinum-blond hair glowing warmly beneath the torchlight.
His chin was slightly raised, and his indifferent gaze swept lazily across the classroom as though he were searching for something.
Behind him stood the two hulking figures of Crabbe and Goyle, blocking the doorway like a pair of sentries.
The low buzz of conversation inside the classroom immediately died away at Malfoy’s entrance.
Under everyone’s gaze, Malfoy entered with his two lackeys, took a seat among the Slytherins, and leisurely placed his textbook on the desk.
“The classroom doesn’t have that revolting garlic smell today.”
Sitting nearby, Ron twitched his nose and sniffed the surrounding air in surprise.
Harry, meanwhile, stared at the empty lectern without answering.
“That’s perfectly normal,” Hermione said from beside them, raising her chin slightly.
“The Scouring Charm can remove the smell completely.”
Although they had not yet learned it in Charms, she had already studied it in advance.
She was just about to explain everything she had read on the subject when the bell rang. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Hermione immediately straightened in her seat and opened The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection to the page where Quirrell had left off the previous day.
Ron breathed a quiet sigh of relief before pulling a face at Harry.
At that moment, someone entered through the doorway.
The heavy door closed behind him with a muffled click, moving smoothly without the slightest scrape.
Under the astonished gazes of the young wizards, Hermes walked calmly toward the lectern.
His posture was straight and composed, and the elegant folds of his black robes fell perfectly around him.
Without needing to say a word, his presence alone drew the attention of every student in the room.
“Good morning.”
Hermes’s clear, mellow voice broke the classroom’s silence.
“Professor Quirrell is in poor health, so I will be teaching your lessons for the next week.”
As soon as he finished speaking, delight appeared on the faces of the young wizards.
They had attended only one lesson with Professor Quirrell, yet they were already unable to tolerate the suffocating odor of garlic, his incessant stuttering, or his habit of simply reading aloud from the textbook.
They would have learned more through self-study.
Despite their excitement, however, the students remained silent.
Clearly, they had already heard some of the rumors circulating among the older students.
Hermes swept his gaze across the classroom before casually raising one arm.
He did not utter an incantation.
The attendance register beside the lectern opened by itself.
Its yellowed parchment floated into the air as glowing silver letters emerged from the page and flew toward the students.
Within moments, every name had left the register and arranged itself above the corresponding student’s head.
After confirming that everyone was present, Hermes waved his hand in satisfaction.
The silver names scattered as though caught in a breeze, dissolving into countless points of starlight before disappearing.
“Very good.
No one is late.”
Hermes nodded.
“Now, can anyone tell me what Professor Quirrell taught you yesterday?”
A bushy-haired girl immediately raised her hand and looked eagerly at Hermes.
Beside her, Harry also thrust his hand into the air under Ron’s incredulous gaze.
A few other students slowly followed their example.
After surveying the classroom, Hermes called upon Hermione.
“Miss Granger.”
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