Just as I was about to draw my wand, Albus hurriedly continued.
"Sir. You know it as well, do you not?"
"Know what?"
"Harry, Sir. The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter."
At the mention of my disciple's name, I paused my hand and waited for Albus's next words.
"Sir, confronting Dark Wizards will be Harry's unavoidable destiny."
Dark Wizards. In truth, the beings that Albus and I think of as Dark Wizards are probably completely different. This is because we have lived in different eras.
Nevertheless, it was all too clear who Albus was referring to when he said 'Dark Wizards.'
"You mean that fellow, Voldemort, the so-called Dark Lord, will eventually come after Harry?"
"That is correct. He will eventually come for Harry."
I could instinctively tell that Albus wasn't telling me the whole story, but I let it go.
In the end, this was a truth that Harry had to bear himself, so it was not a matter for me to interfere in, even as his master.
Of course, separate from that, if he dares to touch my disciple, he will pay the price.
I let out a sigh and said.
"I suppose so. He is my disciple, and the name 'The Boy Who Lived' will follow Harry around like a brand."
Fame always has two sides. It brings both a halo and a stigma.
"That is why. If his life is one where struggle is unavoidable, is it not right to watch over his first struggle within the safe confines of Hogwarts?"
"So, you're saying you'll use Quirrell for Harry's growth?"
"That is correct."
As Albus said this, clear traces of anguish were visible in his eyes.
Seeing that, I put my wand back in my robes.
In essence, no matter how cold his plans were or how twisted his educational philosophy, Albus was a good person. Just a bit twisted.
"Alright, Albus. I'll accept your plan. Harry needs real combat experience, after all."
Indeed, there is an experience that cannot be gained even by catching a troll.
Seeing him cast Crucio on Bellatrix the other day, it seemed he had at least developed the minimum mindset, but facing a defenseless opponent with no wand was different from a real battle.
But as I was thinking, a question arose.
"But, you're saying that Harry needs to grow, right?"
"That is the case."
"What about you?"
"...Pardon?"
I looked at Albus with eyes full of questions.
"No, setting aside the fact that Voldemort will come for Harry, didn't this whole situation happen because you failed to eliminate Voldemort in the first place?"
"...Th-that's right?"
"Then, before you think about training Harry, shouldn't you be thinking about growing yourself and finishing off Voldemort directly?"
"Sir, but what more can I grow at this age?"
"Albus, what did I always tell you?"
Albus sighed and muttered.
"To always stand at the forefront, like a Gryffindor. But Sir, I am not you. I... am just a very foolish, and incompetent, old man."
Albus, as he said this, looked quite pathetic.
Seeing him like that, I was able to see, for the first time in a long time, the image of the young junior I had cared for.
"Well, you might be able to grow again even at that age, don't you think? Shall I teach you some ancient magic?"
And so, Harry gained an elderly fellow disciple.
After giving Albus a piece of my mind.
I was living my usual Hogwarts life.
In other words, I was not concentrating on my classes at all.
The only classes worth my time were the special lessons with Professor McGonagall and Snape, but they hadn't even started those yet.
Hermione's face grew more and more fearsome as she saw me consistently get top marks without ever listening in class, but what could I do?
I'm sorry, Hermione, but if you're that upset, try being a second-timer at Hogwarts yourself.
Meanwhile, after my conversation with Albus, I gave up on the idea of doing anything to Quirrell.
If I had my way, I would have liked to undo the turban on his head and find out what was under there, but after hearing what Albus had to say, I changed my mind.
I looked at Harry next to me and recalled Albus's words.
Harry, I'll leave that wizard as your share. You lucky brat.
Just then, Harry, who had been lying on his dormitory bed, ran up to me and said.
"Master, did you see this?"
"See what?"
"We have a flying lesson next week!"
I asked Harry, puzzled.
"So? You're good at flying, aren't you? You're not in a position to be learning anything new, are you?"
"I don't think I've ever seen you fly a broom, Master! Wouldn't it be fun to fly a broom together?"
A broom, a broom.
After a moment of reminiscing, I grinned.
"Harry, I was once called the Speed Master of Hogwarts."
"Wow, that's amazing!"
Though that was a record from a hundred years ago.
"Harry, no matter how good you are on a broom, you're still no match for me."
My words seemed to have sparked a bit of a competitive spirit in Harry, as he replied.
"Alright. Then let's find out next Tuesday!"
Harry ran outside as if to practice right away.
But Harry. No matter how good you are on a broom, I've been flying one for ten years.
Come to think of it, this would be a good change of pace. No, wasn't the reason I re-enrolled at Hogwarts in the first place to enjoy the school life I had missed?
I shrugged.
It seemed that the impact of the flying lesson was greater than I had thought.
As I headed to the library to read the new books that had been added over the past hundred years, I witnessed a rather amusing sight.
Hermione was struggling to carry five or six books.
"Hermione, what are you doing?"
"Ah, Aisen."
Hermione, who saw me between the tall stacks of books, narrowed her eyes.
"What are you doing in the library? A kid who doesn't even bring his textbook to class."
"Um, I'm here to read books, just like you?"
As I said this, I used a levitation charm to lift the books in Hermione's hands and move them to a desk.
Hermione, who had been struggling with the heavy books, awkwardly moved her now-free hands, sat down at the desk, and finally said.
"Ah, thank you. You're... really good at magic. Is it because you grew up in the wizarding world?"
As she said this, Hermione was looking at me with eyes full of something like envy.
I looked at the book Hermione had been looking at and understood the reason.
—The History of the Broomstick —The First Step of Flight —Easy Broomstick Usage for Children —A History of Quidditch
They were all books about broomsticks, a topic I couldn't imagine how one could write a thick book about.
It seemed Hermione had also been looking at books because of the flying lesson.
As if she had realized that I was staring at the titles of the books, Hermione blushed and gathered the books in front of her.
"Um, I don't know if you know, but I've never ridden a broom before."
"You can't learn how to fly a broom by memorizing books like that, can you?"
At my words, Hermione answered in a rather sharp voice.
"It's better than not reading them, isn't it? So, what are you doing here?"
"I told you, didn't I? I came to read books, too."
"You did?"
Hermione asked, her eyes wide.
"Then why else would I have come to the library?"
"Um, well. That's true."
"Well then, I have to go find my books, so I'll be off."
The flying lesson must be quite important for the first-years. Seeing as even Hermione over there is so anxious about it.
I left Hermione behind and went to find my books.
I heard Hermione's voice from behind me.
"Wait, Aisen! That's the restricted section, you can't go in—huh?"
Using a non-verbal Disillusionment Charm, I slipped past the librarian's gaze and into the restricted section.
After all, all the interesting books are in the restricted section.
A commotion caused by a flabbergasted Hermione was heard from behind me.
"Aisen, what spell did you use?"
"Miss Granger, is it not time you learned to be quiet in the library?"
"But Aisen just went into the restricted section over there...!"
"What? The restricted section? There's nothing there, what are you talking about. Miss Granger, this won't do. You're banned from the library for the rest of the day."
"Ah, wait a minute! He was really there! Ugh!"
In the end, I heard the sound of Hermione being kicked out of the library, holding only one volume of A History of Quidditch.
...I feel a little sorry, but why was she raising her voice in the library?
I went deeper into the restricted section in search of books.
And, time passed, and at last, it was next Tuesday. The time for the flying lesson.
As it happened, this class was a joint class for Gryffindor and Slytherin.
And so, I could feel two pairs of eyes glaring at me.
That's right, not one pair, but two.
One was Hermione. Ever since she was kicked out of the library for the commotion she had caused because of me, Hermione had been giving me sullen looks.
"What did you do that day?"
And she would keep pestering me whenever we met. She just wouldn't believe me when I told her I had used a Disillusionment Charm. It was a very difficult spell for a first-year to use, after all.
Of course, I wasn't in a very good mood about that day's events either.
Because that day had been a bust.
Seriously, a complete bust.
Since there were more than a few books in the restricted section, I hadn't been able to look through all of them, but at least that day's results had been a complete bust.
The books in the restricted section were, of course, secret and important knowledge, but that was precisely the problem.
They were such secret records that, for some reason, the library's collection hadn't changed in a hundred years.
I can say with certainty that all the books I saw that day were ones I had already seen at least once.
If I looked, there were probably some new books, but logically, would a thousand-year-old school library have more books from the last hundred years, or from before that?
In the end, I decided to give up on exploring the restricted section for a while. I could just go and look after I had found all the necessary books in the general collection.
Anyway. The other pair of eyes staring at me was Draco Malfoy.
Needless to say, he must have been holding a grudge for what I had said about his family during Potions class.
Malfoy was glaring at me with such fierce eyes that it looked like he wanted to start a fight with me on the spot, but he was forced to stand in his place as Madam Hooch came in and the class began.
Madam Hooch shouted.
"Say 'UP!' and the wand will come up!"
Shouts of 'up' were heard from all over the field. Harry and I succeeded, of course. Malfoy over there also surprisingly succeeded on his first try.
Meanwhile, the other students were a mixed bag.
In Hermione's case, the broom only trembled, and she looked tearful, and Neville's broom didn't even move. Ron succeeded after a few tries.
Ron, who had succeeded, whispered to Harry and me in a small voice.
"Did you know? These practice brooms are complete relics. There's a rumor that they're over seventy years old!"
"Goodness, they're still using such old things?"
Regardless of Harry's surprise, a command was heard from the front.
"Well then, everyone, fly!"
At Madam Hooch's command, a few children kicked off the ground and flew up.
Seeing them, I got on my broom and shot forward.
Swoosh!
The feeling of acceleration from the broom. It was much faster than I had expected, and I was startled.
What, this broom is a relic, why is it so fast? It's much faster than the newest broom I remember.
...And then I realized.
Even a seventy-year-old relic of a broom was newer than the newest broom I remembered!
I broke out in a cold sweat.
This is too fast, it's harder to control than I thought.
It seemed that the brooms of the 20th century were too fast for me.