While Louis and Hermione chatted, the crowd escorting Harry Potter to the infirmary had already moved on. Only the two of them remained on the moving staircase.
"Professor Snape trying to kill Harry? That's impossible," Louis said, deciding to speak in defense of his Head of House.
"Why is it impossible? He's always disliked Harry, hasn't he? I heard he constantly targets him in class," Hermione challenged.
It sounded reasonable on the surface—but Louis had facts.
"Hermione, do you know how powerful a fully-trained wizard is?" Louis said. "If Professor Snape really wanted to kill Harry, he'd have a dozen better ways to do it. Even using a Bludger—he could've easily made sure Harry died, not just fainted."
"That…" That logic was too airtight. Debater Hermione Granger had no counter.
"And also…" Louis suddenly leaned in close to Hermione's ear. "Why are you so nervous about Harry Potter getting hurt?"
"Because we're friends, obviously," Hermione answered, flustered by Louis's sudden closeness. Then she remembered—when they'd gone to the library on their first day, Padma had done the same thing, only to be forced back when Louis leaned in further.
So Hermione, as if discovering a counterattack method, stepped forward herself and looked up into Louis's face.
"Friends, huh?" Louis gazed into Hermione's determined expression, so close they could almost touch. But instead of retreating like she expected, he softly asked, "Then if I got hurt, what would you do?"
"I... I-I-I'd be worried too, of course!" Hermione stammered, and instinctively tried to step back—but Louis suddenly wrapped an arm around her waist.
Hermione was so stunned by the bold move that her mind went blank. She stared into Louis's eyes like a frightened little bunny.
Louis tilted his head, speaking with a playful grin near her ear, "You won't scare me off like this. That kind of move doesn't work on thick-skinned people—and I think my skin's pretty thick."
His warm breath brushing against her earlobe caused a red flush to immediately spread across the tips of her ears.
Louis finally let go, chuckling as he saw the dazed look on her face.
Objective achieved: Daily Hermione Teasing—Complete. ✔
"Ahem!"
Suddenly, an elderly cough startled Hermione so much she nearly jumped.
Louis turned around and found none other than the headmaster of Hogwarts—Albus Dumbledore.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster," Louis said with a smile, showing no embarrassment whatsoever.
Hermione, not nearly as shameless, lowered her head and muttered, "Good afternoon, Headmaster Dumbledore."
"I hope I didn't interrupt you two," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "I'm on my way to the infirmary to check on Mr. Potter. Do continue."
And with that, he walked past them toward the hospital wing.
"The headmaster really cares about Harry," Hermione said quietly, glancing at Dumbledore's back.
"Well, of course. He's the savior who defeated the Dark Lord," Louis replied. Then he looked at her. "Wanna reset your mood and, like the headmaster said, continue?"
"Pffft!" Hermione stuck her tongue out. "Not a chance."
---
In the Headmaster's Office...
"Albus, isn't this incident enough to alarm you? That man's influence has already seeped into Hogwarts—he's targeting Harry Potter."
Snape's tone was urgent.
"I know. Calm down, Severus," Dumbledore replied slowly. "But he hasn't dared to show himself, has he? Otherwise it wouldn't have been a Bludger—it would've been the Killing Curse."
"But he has shown himself. And the most likely suspect is Quirinus Quirrell," Snape emphasized. "He's been acting suspicious ever since returning to school, hasn't he?"
"We have no proof. We can't make accusations without evidence, Severus," Dumbledore answered with his usual calm.
"Suit yourself. But I'll be watching him," Snape said, frustrated by Dumbledore's passiveness.
"And I hope you'll pay attention to your own behavior," Dumbledore added meaningfully. "Because compared to Quirrell... more people are suspicious of you."
What he didn't say aloud was: Snape was simply too unlikeable. Compared to the meek and stammering Quirrell, Snape looked far more villainous.
"That's just my fate, isn't it?" Snape replied coldly.
---
Back in the Dormitory...
Louis tossed Hermes's head over to the Volumen Hydrargyrum and began pondering again.
School had been in session for one or two months already, and Dio Brando still hadn't paid Voldemort a visit? That was unacceptable.
"Alright then, time to go see him. Let's find out what they're up to—don't tell me they're still figuring out how to get past the professors' enchanted traps?" Louis rubbed his chin and summoned Faceless Phantom.
His dorm mates were all present, occasionally glancing over at him, but none of them noticed Faceless Phantom.
Unless it revealed itself, a Stand remained invisible to everyone except its user.
Switching to remote view, Louis had Faceless Phantom transform into the blond-haired Dio Brando. Then he further dressed up the image, outfitting Dio in a magician's ensemble—
Top hat, tailcoat, cane, and of course, a theatrical mask.
"Let's reinforce Voldemort's impression that the entire World Villain Alliance is coming together," Dio Brando tipped his hat and floated upward through the ceiling, heading toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's quarters.
Each professor had their own private room, typically located close to their classroom to save time.
Louis moved steadily upward—walls posed no obstacle to his Stand, and even passersby walked right through him. However, midway, he had to stop.
Because he'd bumped into a ghost.
Calling it a "ghost" might not be quite accurate—it was a short, chubby, jester-like figure clutching a very real-looking bottle of ink.
It was Peeves the Poltergeist, Hogwarts' resident menace: known for pranks, pranks... and more pranks.
"Who?! Who bumped into Peeves?!" Peeves somersaulted in midair, the ink bottle flying from his hands and splattering across the floor, prompting a furious shout from someone nearby.
Peeves couldn't see the Stand—but he could collide with it, which was... interesting.
Louis said nothing, simply watching as an irate Filch, mop in hand, tried to chase Peeves away. But his broom was useless, and Peeves's flying ink bottle smacked Filch right in the head, covering his face in black splotches.
"Hahaha! Filch is so dumb! Filch can't beat Peeves!" Peeves howled with glee as he pointed at Filch and danced through the air, quickly forgetting he'd been bumped in the first place.
*