Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Harry nodded, but couldn't help thinking about how the twins had helped him.

There were also various potions that Kane gave him.

"But they don't seem...as bad as you think."

Sirius sighed.

He ruffled Harry's hair, just like James used to do.

"You have a more forgiving heart than your father, Harry. Just... stay alert, okay?"

Soon they stood at the castle gate saying goodbye.

"Remember our secret code," Sirius hugged Harry tightly. "If the letter mentions 'Old Buckbeak,' it means I'm fine; if it says 'Moonface's New Robe,' it means there's trouble."

Harry nodded, his throat tightening so much he couldn't speak.

"I will come back as soon as possible."

Sirius took a step back, his grey eyes gleaming. "Maybe next time we can ride broomsticks together, hmm? And maybe we can even play Quidditch together!"

Harry finally smiled. "That's great."

Just then, a cold voice came from the shadows: "What a touching farewell scene. I guess Blake finally realized he's not cut out to be a guardian?"

Snape appeared in the shadows of the porch at some point.

A signature mocking smile played on his lips.

Sirius took a deep breath.

To Harry's surprise, he didn't get angry; instead, he gave a bright smile.

"Ah, Severus, are you here to see me off? How touching. But don't worry, I'll be back—after all, someone has to make sure you don't cause trouble for Harry, right?"

Snape's face turned even paler than usual. "Get out of my school, Black."

"Your school?"

Sirius laughed. "I bet Dumbledore would find that very amusing."

"Sirius," Harry tugged at his godfather's sleeve, not wanting the farewell to turn into another argument, "you should go."

"You're right, Harry."

Sirius gave him a final, tight hug, then turned to Snape, his expression suddenly turning serious.

"Take good care of him, Snape. Otherwise, no one will forgive you!"

A flicker of emotion, unreadable to Harry, crossed Snape's eyes, but it quickly returned to its cold indifference. "Get out."

Sirius winked at Harry one last time, then turned and strode away.

Harry smiled and waved until his godfather's figure disappeared into the distance.

"Stupid, reckless, irresponsible," Snape whispered beside him, "exactly the same as back then."

Harry turned to the Potions professor: "Professor... I think your assessment suits you better!"

Snape stared at Harry with his dark eyes for a long time before finally saying coldly, "Ten inches of parchment, Potter, regarding the comparison of the Sleeping Beans' effects in different cuts. Due tomorrow."

After saying that, he turned and left, his robe billowing like bat wings.

Late at night, in the office of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts.

The flickering candlelight cast Qiluo's hunched figure onto the stone wall.

He nervously rubbed his fingers together, glancing occasionally at the closed door.

As if afraid someone would suddenly break in, he finally trembled as he untied the purple headscarf.

"Master, Master..." Quirrell's voice sounded like it was being choked.

Voldemort's snake-like face slowly appeared on Quirrell's head.

His pale skin took on a sickly bluish-gray hue in the candlelight. He opened his scarlet eyes, the pupils as narrow as pinpoints.

"You've disappointed me, Quirinas."

Quirrell's knees buckled, and he almost collapsed to the ground.

"I—I tried my best, Master! But there's always someone around Potter—"

"Not Potter," Voldemort hissed, his voice like a venomous snake slithering across a dead leaf.

"It's that Malfoy brat. Kane Malfoy."

Quirrell's Adam's apple bobbed.

He certainly knew why his master was angry.

Sirius Black's sudden release from prison and Peter Pettigrew's re-arrest.

It was all because of the testimony of that Slytherin first-year student in Wizengamot.

"Does he think he can interfere with my plans?"

Voldemort's voice suddenly rose in pitch, and Quirrell felt a sharp pain on his scalp.

"That arrogant brat, just like his father, knows no bounds!"

"Master, he... he is, after all, Lucius Malfoy's son..."

Quirrell stammered, "If we rashly attack him, the Malfoy family—"

"Lucius?" Voldemort sneered. "That opportunistic coward? Once I regain my strength, the first thing I'll do is deal with these traitors!"

Quirrell's back was soaked with cold sweat.

He recalled the Defense Against the Dark Arts class he had attended a few days earlier.

Kane Malfoy's sharp eyes—the boy was watching him like a viper watching its prey.

"But Master, Kane Malfoy... he is not simple."

Quirrell mustered his courage and said, "His progress in Defense Against the Dark Arts far surpasses that of his peers. Last week, he even pointed out my pronunciation error in a spell during class..."

Voldemort's pupils contracted slightly.

"Are you afraid of an eleven-year-old?" His voice was terrifyingly soft.

Quirrell's lips trembled: "No, Master! But... if he notices anything, tell Dumbledore—"

"He won't have a chance." Voldemort's lips twisted into a cruel smile.

"The Philosopher's Stone... will soon be ours. And Kane Malfoy, I'll make him open that door for us himself."

Quirrell's eyes widened: "Master means... the Imperius Curse?"

"A more elegant way," Voldemort hissed.

"Make him 'voluntarily' follow you to the fourth floor. Once you get the magic stone..."

His voice lowered, "I will make him understand the consequences of betraying the Dark Lord."

Outside the window, a bolt of lightning struck, illuminating Quirrell's pale face.

He recalled what Kane had said to him in the hallway that afternoon: "Professor, you've been acting... a little strange lately."

The boy's tone was gentle, yet it made Quirrell feel like he had a thorn in his side.

"But...but master, what if he resists—"

"Then kill him," Voldemort said coldly. "The accidental death of a student is all too common at Hogwarts."

Quirrell's hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

He recalled Kane's behavior at Hogwarts, and his ease in breaking the spells he had set for himself.

Is that boy... really just a first-year student?

"Or perhaps..." Voldemort's voice suddenly turned dangerous, "you're more afraid of him than of me?"

Quirrell fell to his knees with a thud: "No! Master! I will always be your most loyal servant!"

Voldemort narrowed his eyes in satisfaction.

"Very good. Next week, I want you to make sure Kane Malfoy... 'accidentally' discovers something interesting."