After a thoroughly boring hour dragged on.
The bell finally rang, signaling the end of class.
It wasn't just the young witches and wizards who sighed in relief— even Quirrell let out a long breath.
He packed up his things in a flash and hurried out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
The way he bolted like he couldn't stay a second longer, it was as if he had some urgent task from his master waiting.
Watching Quirrell's antics, Lucien just rolled his eyes.
The guy was playing the groveling fool way too convincingly.
How could anyone who lands a job as a Hogwarts professor be a total pushover?
Sure, I could pick up some Defense Against the Dark Arts from books on my own, but having a proper teacher would speed things up big time.
Who wouldn't want to level up faster?
But who's gonna fill that teaching gap for me?
Lucien glanced down at his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook—mostly dry theory in there.
Real duels and battles? They were decided in the blink of an eye.
The split-second decisions and countermeasures you needed? You couldn't just cram that from books alone.
The thought of a whole year stuck with Quirrell's half-hearted, muddled teaching made Lucien inwardly groan.
If Dumbledore wasn't suspicious of Quirrell and on guard for any sign of Voldemort slinking back into Hogwarts...
Well, Dumbledore's style was to keep potential problems close where he could watch them. Otherwise, he'd have booted Quirrell ages ago for this nonsense.
Hang on.
Firing a professor?
That sparked an idea in Lucien's mind.
Hey, if the guy's my teacher, shouldn't he actually teach me something?
Might as well see if I can squeeze a little value out of Quirrell.
Hmm, who knows—maybe even get something out of Tom Riddle while I'm at it!
...
After saying goodbye to Harry and the other two, Lucien grabbed his books and quick-stepped out of the classroom.
His classes for the day were done. Time to get to the important stuff.
Off to the library!
The moment he stepped inside, the whole place hushed up.
Not because all the young witches and wizards were suddenly model students, keeping quiet on their own.
No, it was thanks to this skinny, elderly woman clutching a feather duster, prowling the aisles like a lioness staking out her territory.
If any kid got rowdy or damaged a book, she'd swing that duster and shoo them right out.
Lucien scanned the room and spotted her quick.
"Madam Pince?"
At his soft query, the madam nodded.
Lucien pulled out Professor Flitwick's book list and handed it over.
She skimmed the titles, and her brows furrowed.
Then she gave Lucien a once-over and asked abruptly: "What year are you in?"
"First year."
That made her frown even deeper.
The list had stuff like Achievements in Charms, Development of the Silent Spell, Applications of Composite Incantations...
These were advanced tomes that only upper-year students prepping for N.E.W.T.s would dare borrow—and even then, just one or two at a time for deep study.
And here were at least ten on the list. Madam Pince eyed the first-year in front of her, wondering if this was some prank.
But there was Flitwick's signature, plus an unmistakable magical seal that'd be tough to fake.
After a moment's hesitation, she said coolly: "Wait here."
With that, she turned and glided to the shelves. No hesitation—she wove between the stacks like she had every book's spot memorized, pulling them one by one without a second thought.
Lucien watched her fetch them by hand instead of just Accio-ing them over. He figured she must really cherish the books, opting for care over crude magic.
As for the idea that Madam Pince was a Squib who couldn't do magic? Nah, Lucien dismissed that quick.
The Restricted Section was packed with priceless tomes— no way they'd leave it to someone without magic to guard. That'd be begging students to sneak in with spells and help themselves.
She gathered the books swiftly and handed them to Lucien: "Do not damage these books, or you'll be punished!"
"Borrowing period is one month. Come back to me if you need a renewal."
Lucien nodded his thanks.
He grabbed a few extras on Transfiguration and Potions too, checked them out with her, and headed out of the library.
Just as he turned a corner outside, his towering stack of books blocked his view—and he didn't see the person coming the other way.
"Oof!"
A yelp rang out.
Lucien stumbled from the bump, and his books teetered, about to tumble everywhere.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
He reacted fast, whipping out his wand and casting a Levitation Charm.
The falling books hovered steadily, then restacked themselves neatly in the air.
"Sorry, you okay?"
Lucien reached out to help the other person up.
"You're... Lucien!"
The girl sprawled on the floor, rubbing her wrist with pale blonde hair, looked up at him. Lucien was pretty sure he didn't know her.
But she grabbed his hand and pulled herself up with surprising poise.
"I'm Daphne Greengrass."
"Eldest daughter of the Greengrass family."
At her introduction, Lucien's eyebrow quirked, but he replied politely: "Nice to meet you. I'm Lucien Grafton."
"Yeah, I know. You stood out at the Sorting Ceremony."
"And weren't we in History of Magic together this afternoon?"
He glanced at the Slytherin crest on her robes.
She was still massaging her wrist—looked like she'd twisted it in the fall.
Feeling a bit at fault for the collision, Lucien raised his wand.
"Episkey."
A soft white light wrapped around her wrist, and the pain vanished in an instant.
"The Healing Charm? Thank you!"
Daphne expressed her gratitude with elegant grace.
Her hunch had been spot-on: someone who could pull off magic this smoothly right at the start of term was clearly exceptional. Worth getting to know.
"No problem."
Lucien just hummed and started to walk away. He planned to grab some dinner from the Great Hall to go, then hole up in his dorm and dive into the books.
Finally getting his hands on advanced magic knowledge—not the basic stuff you could snag anywhere—had him buzzing with excitement.
Silent Spells to practice, Potions to brew... tonight was gonna be productive!
"Lucien, would you care to join me for dinner?"
Seeing him about to bail, Daphne jumped in with the invite.
As she spoke, her lips curved into a refined, ladylike smile, her chin tilting up just so, exposing her slender, pale neck.
Like accepting her invitation was some grand honor.
Lucien caught that poised expression and felt a weird sense of déjà vu.
How did she make grabbing a bite in the school hall sound so posh?
Greengrass—ah, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, a pure-blood family.
No wonder she seemed familiar. He'd seen that exact vibe from the noble young ladies chatting up his Aunt Penelope at those fancy banquets.
Pure-blood heiress, Slytherin... yeah, that stacked up to a whole lot of complications.
Lucien's gut told him this girl might be more trouble than she was worth.
And with all these books waiting, all that knowledge calling... no time to waste chatting.
"Thanks for the offer, but sorry—I've got something to take care of tonight."
With that, Lucien stepped around her and kept going.
Daphne's smile froze. Wait... had she just been turned down?