Chapter 083

Lisa and Terry were pureblood's from minor Houses. Neither family owned a seat on the Wizengamot. Lisa's mother worked as a Nurse at Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, and her father was a small time businessman who worked for a company that imported magical items. Terry's parents were both authors who had written several fictional novels and a few thesis papers on magical theory. Neither were very well known, but they made enough money to live comfortably.

He also learned a bit about the two as people. Much like himself, Lisa was a history buff. The only difference between the two was that where Harry knew everything there was to know about the history of the non-magical world, Lisa knew everything about the wizarding one. Or at least, she knew enough to make Harry feel incompetent, something that did not happen very often.

That did bother him a bit due to his competitive nature, but seeing as Lisa grew up in the magical world, had to concede that she would know more about its history than he did. He was actually kind of glad that she was so into history, even if it meant she knew more than him, because it gave them something to bond over.

Terry was not much for history, but he did enjoy reading magical theory and fiction. It probably had something to do with his parents influence, but the male Ravenclaw was a big fan of stories like Enchanted Encounters and David Copperfield.

On that note, Harry found it very interesting when he learned that Jane Austin and Charles Dickens were actually squibs.

Their time after lunch was spent exploring the castle's halls and rooms. All in all, Harry the time spent with his friends to be fascinating and enjoyable, though a part of him still wished he could read his animagus book.

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The very first thing Harry did upon entering the room they would learn Defense Against the Dark Arts in was to crinkle his nose. The room held a heavy stench of garlic, as if someone had mashed garlic into a paste and smeared it across the walls, floor, ceiling and tables, then sprayed the air with garlic scented Lysol for good measure.

With his nose wrinkled in disgust—he wasn't the only one—and promising himself to find out if there was a charm to freshen the air around him, Harry walked further into the class room.

The room itself was pretty standard; it had several desks and tables, a large set of windows that gave a view of the grounds outside. An iron chandelier hung from the ceiling, as well as a dragon skeleton. At one end of the classroom was an old projector of some kind, and at the front of the class was a large desk with a staircase behind it leading to what Harry suspected was the professor's private quarters.

"W-welcome to D-D-Defense Against the Dark Arts," the teacher, a man named Quirinus Quirrel stuttered out as he surveyed the students. He appeared young, mid-twenties maybe, with pale skin, light blue eyes, and what looked like a really bad case of eye-twitching. Harry noticed the paranoid tick right off the bat and couldn't help but wonder what this man had done to contract such a reaction. The eye would twitch at random, irregular intervals every few seconds. He also wore a large purple turban on his head, and Harry wondered if he was hiding some kind of disfigurement. "M-my n-name is... Quirinus Quirrel, and I w-w-will be your t-t-teacher for your time a-a-at Ho-Hogwarts."

Harry frowned as he listened to the man's stuttering. Was this fool really the person who was going to teach them how to deal with the Dark Arts? He looked like the kind of person who was afraid of his own shadow! How could someone who looked so easily frightened possibly teach them how to defend themselves from the Dark Arts?

"N-now," Quirrel continued after bumbling through his speech. "P-please turn to page s-s-sixteen in your books."

It wasn't long after the lesson started that Harry determined this class would be a complete waste of time. The man before them wasn't a very good teacher, and Harry could glean bits of knowledge from the professor's incessant stuttering. The fact that Professor Quirrel seemed to be paraphrasing the book without even adding any personal anecdotes merely added to Harry's conclusion: he would be better of doing self-study in this class.

So while people like Hermione Granger dutifully took notes on, Harry used his parchment and calligraphy pen to get started on the homework he knew would be due next week thanks to Lisa and Terry having already had this class.

It was during this time, after nearly finishing his homework, that Harry felt a sharp pain entering his scar, along with the unmistakable feeling of someone using legillemency to try and poke around in his head.

Looking up, Harry frowned and tried to find out who was using legillemency on him. His first thought was the teacher, but when he looked at Professor Quirrel, the man's back was turned to the students and he was writing on the chalkboard, which immediately scratched him off the suspect list.

Harry knew very little about legillemency, but did know that eye-contact was required to initiate a mind probe. At least, the more passive form was. It could also be done with a wand, but that was only for the more aggressive form of invading the mind and only something a master Legillemens could do.

Taking a discreet glance around the room, Harry's frown deepened when he saw no one who could have possibly used legillemency on him. Not only were none of the students even looking at him, busy as they were writing notes—or at least pretending to—he couldn't see anyone hiding inside of the classroom either.

Then again, that meant very little. With magic it may be possible for someone to hide in the classroom using some kind of spell to remain invisible. That wasn't a pleasant thought, and Harry decided to research on how someone could become invisible, as well as spells to counter it. It would not only prove useful in finding out if there was anyone hiding in the room, but also help him with something else he was planning to do later in the year.

"You okay, Harry?" asked Neville in a quiet whisper.

"Just fine," Harry said just as quietly. He looked over at Professor Quirrel, who had just asked the class what they could tell him about the wand-lighting charm.

Naturally, Hermione Granger's hand was the first one in the air.

"Y-y-yes, Ms. Granger?"

"The wand-lighting charm, or Lumos, is a light-creation spell used to illuminate the tip of the caster's wand, and creates a very warm light. It was created in the eighteenth century by Levina Monkstanley. It is also used to repel certain spectral creatures such as Gytrashes and malevolent spirits." Hermione's answer was concluded with her sending Harry a smug look, as if being the first to answer the question somehow made her a better student than him. Harry just sighed as he realized the girl really was jealous about how easy he made their previous classes look, and was apparently looking for a way to even the score.

Granted, he could be just as competitive as her, but even then he usually tried to let his grades do the talking.

"V-v-very good," Quirrel stuttered out. "T-take f-f-five points for Gryffindor."

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