Kyle chuckled at Kanna’s Transfiguration attempt, her beetle-turned-button still sporting tiny beetle legs, making it look like a peculiar, stubby tortoise.
Kanna quickly covered the half-transformed beetle, scowling at him. “What are you laughing at? You’re probably not any better than me!”
Kyle just shrugged and silently waved his wand over his own beetle. In an instant, it transformed into a neat, button-like shape, complete with a delicate turtle pattern engraved on top.
A murmur of admiration spread through the class as other students noticed his success; none had expected anyone to master the spell so quickly. Even Professor McGonagall seemed surprised, but she gave a small nod of approval, holding up Kyle’s button for everyone to see.
“Ten points to Hufflepuff!” she announced with a rare smile.
Kyle glanced over at Kanna, giving her a casual shrug. She flushed with annoyance, turning her head away in silent frustration.
By the end of class, Kanna had finally succeeded in turning her beetle into a button, too. As a reward, Professor McGonagall exempted both Kyle and Kanna from the assignment, while the rest of the class groaned under the weight of a two-foot essay on Transfiguration theory, due before the next lesson.
Outside the classroom, Mikel’s face was pale as he muttered repeatedly, still in shock. A typical ten-inch essay was grueling enough, but two feet? It felt like torture. Mikel turned to Kyle, eyes pleading. “Help me… please, just this once. Let me copy your assignment…”
“Sorry,” Kyle replied, patting his shoulder sympathetically. “You forgot—I don’t have to write it.”
The hope in Mikel’s eyes vanished instantly.
After Transfiguration, everyone eagerly anticipated their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Oren was a dark wizard, but his practical lessons had captivated the students, sparking a genuine interest in the subject within just one school year.
Professor Quirrell’s classroom was on the third floor. It was a cramped, dimly lit room, far smaller than last year’s, with only one small window that barely let in any daylight, making the space feel even gloomier.
As they entered, a strange unease settled over the students, deepened by Professor Quirrell's arrival. Who could make a room smell so strongly of garlic? The stench was overwhelming, almost as if the garlic were somehow alive. Several students instinctively covered their noses and attempted to open the window, but Professor Quirrell stopped them.
“N-no… we can’t open the window,” he stammered. “I... I was attacked by a Zombie over the summer and cursed. I c-can’t be exposed to the wind.”
He gestured to his oversized scarf. “This is a gift from an African prince I saved. It... it protects me.”
A Zombie? The students were instantly intrigued.
Katie Bell from Gryffindor couldn’t resist asking, “Professor Quirrell, what does a reanimated Zombie look like?”
“It has… inch-long fangs, a body like steel, and is immune to Charms… utterly terrifying!” he replied.
“Wow~~” gasped the students, looking at Quirrell with newfound respect. A creature immune to Charms and tough as steel? Even an Auror would struggle against something like that. Suddenly, Professor Quirrell’s unassuming demeanor took on a heroic air, and even the strong smell of garlic didn’t seem so bad.
“He must have encountered a Vampire on his journey and uses the garlic to keep it away, afraid it might return,” someone whispered confidently. “Garlic is a vampire's worst enemy.”
Professor Quirrell looked at the student in surprise, then nodded silently. It was a much better explanation than he’d managed to come up with.
“Professor Quirrell,” Katie asked eagerly, “if the Zombie was so powerful, how did you defeat it? Can you tell us?”
“Well… I…” Quirrell’s face reddened as he stammered, “It was... , and then... like that. It involved very advanced magic, so even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”
Seeing him struggle to explain, the students exchanged doubtful glances. His stammering only made him seem less believable.
Katie was relentless, pressing further, “It’s all right, Professor! Even if we don’t understand, we can look up any advanced Charms in the library.”
The others chimed in eagerly.
“Just tell us, please!”
“A few words will do!”
Professor Quirrell’s face flushed even redder. After an awkward silence, he avoided their questions entirely, glancing out the window instead.
“I don’t like… the weather in England,” he mumbled. “Too much rain… Romania is very nice.”
This confirmed everyone’s suspicions. Clearly, Professor Quirrell had made up the story—he hadn’t encountered any zombies. Disappointment washed over the students. While they had worried that this year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts professor might be less than competent, they hadn’t expected he’d turn out to be a liar. And a liar who reeked of garlic, no less.
This was even worse than Oren.
Interest in the lesson vanished. The students began amusing themselves with quiet distractions. Some were writing letters, others catching up on homework, while a few entertained themselves by playing with toads.
Professor Quirrell noticed but said nothing. Instead, he merely opened Dark Forces: A Self-Defense Guide and began to read aloud in a monotonous drone. Anyone observing would have thought Professor Binns had possessed him.
Kyle struggled to keep his eyes open, the drowsiness almost overwhelming. For a moment, he found himself actually missing Oren. Both had been dark wizards, but how could there be such a difference between them?
Forcing himself to stay alert, Kyle finally made it to the end of class.
“That was awful,” Kanna complained over lunch. “I really don’t understand why the headmaster would let him teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
“Maybe they really couldn’t find anyone else,” Cedric suggested after a thoughtful pause. “As you know, it’s always been hard to find professors willing to take that position.”
“But that doesn’t mean they should just read from the textbook,” Kanna protested. “If that’s all they’re going to do, they might as well hire a ghost like Professor Binns. At least then they wouldn’t have to worry about the curse.”
Cedric opened his mouth to respond, but paused, considering her point. For once, it actually seemed to make a lot of sense.