The morning of New Year’s Day arrived quietly.
Snow fell softly outside the round basement windows, piling up against the glass in thick white drifts.
Edward woke up in his bed.
The dorm room was empty.
The other first-year boys were still at home for the holidays.
Edward liked the silence.
He sat up, pulled his heavy yellow blankets up to his waist, and rubbed his eyes.
It was the first of the month.
“System,” Edward whispered into the quiet room.
“Roll.” The glowing wheel appeared in the air.
It spun rapidly, flashing with different colors.
Ten small orbs popped out and floated in a line.
Edward looked at the colors.
He frowned.
He had five brown orbs and five grey orbs.
No gold.
No platinum.
“Well, that is disappointing,” Edward muttered.
He leaned back against his pillows.
“Open bronze.” The five brown orbs popped.
A BROKEN SHOELACE.
A PLAIN WOODEN SPOON.
A ROLL OF GREY DUCT TAPE.
AN EMPTY PLASTIC BOTTLE.
A RUSTY IRON KEY.
Edward sighed.
He threw the trash into the dark corner of his hidden space.
He kept the duct tape.
Tape was always useful.
“Open silver,” Edward said, hoping for something better.
The five grey orbs shattered with a chime.
5,000 POUNDS.
Fresh paper cash.
A THICK WOOL SWEATER.
Dark green and very warm.
A BOX OF LUXURY CHOCOLATES.
A HIGH-QUALITY CAMPING KNIFE.
A sharp steel blade with a grip handle.
A BOTTLE OF CLEANER’S FLUID (JOHN WICK UNIVERSE).
A bottle filled with clear liquid.
Pouring this on a body dissolves it completely into harmless, clear water within seconds.
It leaves no trace, no smell, and no evidence behind.
Edward picked up the bottle.
He looked at the clear liquid inside.
“Not exactly a new skill book, but I suppose it might be handy if I spill something on the rug.
Or if I need to hide a big mess.” He stored the money, the knife, and the sweater.
He ate a piece of chocolate for breakfast.
He felt annoyed that he did not get anything to help his training.
He decided to work off his frustration.
He put on his winter coat and his heavy training weights.
He climbed out of his window into the freezing snow.
He spent the entire morning running across the empty grounds, doing pushups in the snowbanks, and pushing his body until his arms shook.
A few days passed.
The rest of the students returned to the castle.
The halls filled with noise again.
Classes started back up.
Edward fell right back into his easy, quiet routine.
One night, later in the week, the moon sat high and bright in the sky.
Edward waited until Justin and Ernie fell completely asleep.
He quietly pushed his blankets aside.
He dressed in dark clothes.
He climbed out of his window and dropped onto the snowy grass.
He walked toward the Forbidden Forest.
He liked to visit the unicorn he saved.
The animal was good company.
It did not talk, and it liked to play tag in the snow.
Edward walked deep into the dark trees.
The forest was completely silent.
The snow muffled his footsteps.
He used his basic Observation Haki to feel his way through the shadows.
Suddenly, he stopped.
He heard a sound in the distance.
It was a high, panicked cry.
It was the sound of a horse in terrible pain.
Edward narrowed his eyes.
He knew that sound.
He reached into his hidden space.
He pulled out the plain white Anbu mask with the red painted lines.
He placed it over his face and tied the string tight.
He did not run normally.
He closed his eyes for a second.
He pulled his warm aura close to his body.
He shut his aura nodes completely.
He used Zetsu.
His presence vanished.
He felt like a ghost.
He made no sound, pushed no air, and cast no intent.
He dashed forward through the trees.
He moved like a shadow slipping over the snow.
He reached a wide clearing.
He hid behind a thick tree trunk and looked out.
The white unicorn ran across the clearing.
It limped heavily.
A long, dark cut bled on its back leg.
Right behind the unicorn, a tall figure in a black cloak glided across the snow.
The figure wore a dark hood.
It moved fast, chasing the injured animal.
Edward watched them.
He remembered fighting Quirrell back in December.
He remembered pulling his punches.
He remembered leaving Quirrell alive because he did not want to cross that final line.
He was just a software developer in his past life.
He never killed anyone.
The thought of taking a life made him feel sick back then.
But as he watched the hooded figure raise a wand to curse the innocent animal again, Edward looked inward.
He checked his own feelings.
He felt no fear.
He felt no disgust.
His template synchronization sat much higher now.
The mindset of a trained Zoldyck assassin blended smoothly with his own thoughts.
Quirrell was a threat to his quiet life.
Quirrell was a threat to his friends.
Quirrell was hurting an animal Edward liked.
The logic was entirely simple.
The threat needed to be removed.
Edward stepped out from behind the tree.
He kept his aura nodes locked tight.
He used his silent step.
He crossed the clearing in a blur of motion.
He made zero sound.
Quirrell did not hear him coming.
Quirrell did not sense him at all.
Edward appeared directly behind the black cloak.
He did not hesitate.
He did not say a word.
He pulled his right arm back and thrust his hand forward.
In the exact split second before his hand touched the black fabric, Edward dropped Zetsu.
He forced his aura out, using Ten to coat his hand and his arm in a thick, invisible glove of energy.
At the same time, he flexed his fingers.
His fingernails elongated into sharp, deadly claws.
His claws pierced the thick black cloak.
They pierced the skin, the muscle, and the ribs.
His hand slid into Quirrell’s back with a sickening, wet crunch.
Quirrell froze completely.
His wand dropped from his hand and fell into the snow.
Edward felt a beating muscle in his palm.
He closed his claws tight.
He pulled his hand back violently.
He ripped Quirrell’s heart completely out of his chest.
Blood started to drip from the muscle.
Edward immediately tossed the wet heart onto Quirrell’s back so it would not drip and make a mess on his clean boots.
Quirrell did not scream.
He did not turn around.
His body simply shut down.
The tall man folded at the knees and collapsed face-first into the deep snow.
He was dead before he hit the ground.
Edward stood over the body.
He waited for the guilt.
He waited for the sickness to hit his stomach.
He waited to throw up.
He felt absolutely nothing.
His heartbeat remained steady.
His breathing remained calm.
It felt the same as stepping on a dangerous spider.
Suddenly, a terrible, high-pitched scream tore through the quiet clearing.
Thick black smoke poured out of the back of Quirrell’s head.
The black smoke gathered in the air above the dead body.
It formed the shape of a horrible, snake-like face with glowing red eyes.
It was the wraith of Voldemort.
The spirit looked down at its dead host.
Then, it looked at the boy wearing the white cat mask.
The red eyes burned with fury.
The wraith shrieked.
It dove straight at Edward, opening a mouth made of shadows, intending to possess him and take his body.
Edward did not move.
He stood his ground.
The dark spirit slammed into Edward’s chest.
It did not go inside.
It bounced off.
A human soul is incredibly strong.
A spirit cannot possess a body unless the victim is mentally vulnerable, weak, or willing to let them in.
Edward was none of those things.
His mind was a fortress.
On top of that, the thick layer of Nen coating his skin acted like a solid brick wall against the dark magic.
The wraith bounced off Edward’s chest and scattered in the air, howling in pain.
Edward looked up at the swirling black smoke.
He tilted his head.
“See you next time, Mr.
Voldyshorts,” Edward said calmly through the mask.
The wraith shrieked in anger.
It spun wildly in the air, completely unable to harm him.
Without a body, it was weak.
The black smoke turned around and shot up into the dark night sky, fleeing the forest as fast as it could.
The clearing went quiet again.
Edward lowered his arm.
He untied the string and pulled the Anbu mask off his face.
He put it away in his hidden space.
He looked across the snow.
The unicorn stood near a tree, watching him with wide, frightened eyes.
“It is okay,” Edward called out softly.
He held his empty left hand up to show he was friendly.
“Everything is safe now.” The unicorn recognized his voice.
It recognized his face.
It let out a soft sound and slowly walked over to him.
Edward reached out and patted the animal’s neck.
He checked the cut on its leg.
It was not deep, but it bled silver blood onto the snow.
Edward pulled a Senzu bean from his pocket and fed it to the unicorn.
The cut closed up instantly.
The animal nudged his shoulder happily.
Edward turned his attention back to the ground.
He looked at Quirrell’s body.
He looked at the snow.
He saw Quirrell’s wand lying in the white powder.
Edward bent down and picked the wand up.
He dropped it into his hidden dimensional space.
A spare wand was always a good thing to keep.
Then, he looked at the body again.
He had a problem.
If the teachers found a dead professor, they would panic.
Dumbledore would search the entire school.
The Aurors from the Ministry would come.
It would ruin his quiet life.
Edward thought about burying the body, but magical people had spells to find hidden things.
Then, he remembered this month’s gacha pull.
Edward opened his hidden space.
He pulled out the Cleaner’s Fluid.
He popped the cork off the top.
He poured the clear liquid over the dark robes, over the heart, over the body, and over the few drops of blood that stained the snow.
The reaction was immediate.
The liquid hissed quietly.
It did not smoke, and it did not smell.
Quirrell’s body simply began to melt away.
The cloth, the flesh, and the bone dissolved into clear, clean water that soaked harmlessly into the dirt.
In ten seconds, there was nothing left.
Only a small dip in the snowbank remained.
There was no magical signature, no dark curse residue, and no body.
Professor Quirrell simply vanished from the face of the earth.
Edward looked at his own right hand.
He expected it to be covered in blood, but it was completely clean.
His quick use of Ten prevented any of the mess from actually touching his skin or his clothes.
He let his aura fade away.
His sharp claws shrank back into normal, blunt fingernails.
Edward let out a long breath.
The problem of first year was solved.
Harry Potter did not have to face a dark lord this year.
The Sorcerer’s Stone was safe behind a three-headed dog.
The school year could finally just be normal.
Edward turned back to the unicorn.
He smiled.
“Come on,” Edward said, patting its side.
“Let’s play for a bit.” He spent the next half hour running around the snowy clearing with the unicorn.
They chased each other through the trees.
Edward felt completely relaxed.
The heavy burden of the plot was gone.
Eventually, Edward stopped.
He patted the unicorn on the nose.
“I have to go back to sleep,” Edward told the animal.
“There is no need to be afraid of the hooded figure anymore.
He will never disturb you again.” The unicorn seemed to understand.
It gave a happy toss of its head and trotted a few steps away, looking back at him.
“I will come visit again soon.
I promise,” Edward said.
He turned around and walked out of the forest.
He crossed the snowy lawns.
He reached his basement window.
He opened the glass, climbed inside, and locked it tight.
His dorm room was warm and quiet.
Justin and Ernie slept soundly.
Edward took off his winter coat.
He changed into his pajamas.
He climbed into his bed and pulled the yellow curtains closed.
He felt a deep sense of peace.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep instantly, ready to enjoy the rest of his quiet, boring first year at Hogwarts.