Damian opened his eyes to the familiar sight of his dormitory ceiling.
He had slept straight through the night for nearly nine hours, completely sweeping away the deep, bone-weary fatigue that had plagued him.
He was finally back at Hogwarts.
Ever since entering the Winter Forest back in the other world, he had been running grueling exploration missions during the day and fighting terrifying stone monsters in the Mist World at night. The brutal schedule had left him with virtually no time to rest over the past few days.
Because of this, he had planned to travel back to Hogwarts specifically to recuperate. After all, he had discovered that the Mist World was packed with easily farmable anti-magic stones, meaning he was no longer short on the energy required to travel between dimensions.
This morning's schedule featured Herbology Class, which meant trekking out to the outdoor Greenhouse.
It was currently snowing heavily outside the Castle. Winter at Hogwarts without a proper blizzard was as unthinkable as an ocean without crashing waves.
Thick, goose-feather snow fell from the sky like a giant curtain, trimming the Castle turrets and the woods in a layer of pristine, white fluff. The usually shimmering surface of the Great Lake was completely frozen over, and several younger students were already out playing on the thick ice.
As soon as Damian stepped out of the Castle doors and headed toward the Greenhouse, he found his path blocked by a massive, chaotic snowball fight.
"Hey, Damian!"
"Get over here and join us!"
Fred and George Weasley yelled in unison, instantly hurling two tightly packed snowballs directly at Damian's head.
Damian smoothly tilted his head, letting the snowballs whiz past his ears. "I'm going to class right now. And if I remember correctly, you two are supposed to be in the exact same Herbology Class period as me."
"It's just for a little while! Professor Sprout will forgive us!" Fred yelled, immediately winding up and throwing a third snowball.
Damian casually drew his wand. With a precise, flicking motion of his wrist, the incoming snowball bounced cleanly off an invisible barrier and ricocheted straight back, catching George squarely in the face.
"Hey, that's completely unfair!" George sputtered, wiping the freezing snow from his eyes.
Refusing to be outdone, George drew his own wand and cast a quick levitation charm on the snowdrifts around his feet. Half a dozen snowballs floated into the air. With a forceful jab of his wand, the icy projectiles shot toward Damian like cannonballs.
"George, you're a genius!" Fred cheered, mirroring his brother's spell. Suddenly, a dozen charmed snowballs were hurtling toward Damian from multiple angles.
Holding his wand like an elegant fencing foil, Damian remained perfectly calm. He waved his wand in a fluid, continuous motion, parrying and deflecting the incoming barrage one by one.
The surrounding Gryffindor and Slytherin students, who had originally been trudging toward the Greenhouse, stopped dead in their tracks. Unable to resist the temptation, they immediately joined the battlefield.
Following the twins' example, dozens of students drew their wands and began enchanting the snow. Within seconds, the courtyard devolved into absolute chaos, with hundreds of snowballs flying blindly through the air. It was impossible to tell who was targeting who.
Right at the peak of the chaos, Professor Quirrell happened to shuffle past the courtyard.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Quirrell was instantly pelted by several stray snowballs in rapid succession.
"Wh-what... do you... think you're d-doing?" Quirrell stammered angrily, brushing snow off his robes. "It's almost... t-time... for class... g-go to class!"
However, because there were so many students actively participating in the crossfire, he didn't dare dock points. If he had, the House point hourglasses for both Slytherin and Gryffindor would have been instantly emptied.
Seeing a professor intervene, the students immediately froze, lowering their wands.
But the charmed snowballs were still in motion.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
Three heavily packed snowballs slammed directly into the back of Professor Quirrell's turban-wrapped head.
Fred burst out laughing, entirely missing the danger. "Professor, class hasn't started yet! Come join in!"
Damian blinked, suppressing a grimace. The Weasley twins had just forcefully pelted Lord Voldemort directly in the face with enchanted snow. If the Dark Lord possessed his own physical body right now, he would undoubtedly be throwing Unforgivable Curses.
But since Lord Voldemort didn't have a body, it was Professor Quirrell who began trembling with absolute, barely contained rage.
Quirrell's face turned a sickly, deathly pale.
"Y-you... you... how d-dare..."
The corners of his mouth quivered uncontrollably, unable to force out a complete sentence. Beneath his outward anger, Quirrell was terrified. He could feel the Dark Lord's burning, homicidal fury radiating against the back of his skull.
Quirrell desperately pleaded for his master's forgiveness in his mind. Ultimately, the entity beneath the turban remained horrifyingly silent.
Breathing a massive, secret sigh of relief, Quirrell managed to steady his voice, though it still lacked its usual stutter.
"Disrespecting a professor... ten points from Gryffindor! You will... r-report to Mr. Filch... tonight... for detention!"
Fred scratched the back of his head, looking utterly bewildered. He felt Quirrell was making a massive mountain out of a molehill. He had merely invited the man to join a snowball fight, and in return, he was hit with a double-whammy of point deductions and detention.
"What are you all doing loitering out here? Get inside the Greenhouse immediately!"
Professor Sprout's stern voice rang out across the courtyard. Class had already officially started, and when her students had failed to arrive, she had marched out to find them.
Not wanting Quirrell to find an excuse to hand out more detentions, the students immediately scattered, hurrying toward the warm glass of the Greenhouse.
As he walked, Damian kept a close eye on Professor Quirrell's rapidly shifting expressions. He had to admit, Lord Voldemort was hidden incredibly well. Despite his advanced magical sensitivity, Damian couldn't sense the Dark Lord's presence at all.
If he didn't already possess the meta-knowledge of the plot, there was absolutely no way he could have guessed that Lord Voldemort was currently stitched to the back of the stuttering man's head.
Even Albus Dumbledore might not fully realize the extent of the possession yet. It wasn't until Quirrell ventured into the Forbidden Forest to poach Unicorn blood that Dumbledore's suspicions would truly solidify.
Right now, Dumbledore likely suspected Quirrell had merely been corrupted into becoming a Death Eater. He didn't know Lord Voldemort was physically inside Hogwarts, which was exactly why Dumbledore was using the Philosopher's Stone as bait to draw the Dark Lord out of hiding.
Dumbledore was a genius, but he wasn't omniscient. Before the Chamber of Secrets incident next year, Dumbledore wouldn't even know that Lord Voldemort had created Horcruxes. At this exact point in the timeline, the Headmaster was still largely in the dark regarding Lord Voldemort's true state of existence.
Quirrell hasn't started hunting the Unicorn yet, Damian calculated silently. That means Lord Voldemort is currently at his absolute weakest.
The illegal Dragon Egg Damian had acquired in Hogsmeade Village was still sitting safely in his magically extended pocket. If he was going to use the egg to strike a dangerous deal with Quirrell, the absolute best time to make his move would be now, before the desperate Unicorn poaching began.
Today's Herbology Class lesson focused entirely on cultivating Devils Snare.
Devils Snare was a notoriously dangerous magical vine. A fully mature plant possessed thick, snake-like tendrils designed to violently entangle anything that brushed against it. Once caught, the more the victim struggled, the tighter the vines would bind them, eventually crushing the prey to death.
Fortunately, Professor Sprout was only having them work with young seedlings.
The plant thrived in dark, damp environments and violently recoiled from bright light and heat. Because of this, the students were tasked with carefully transplanting the restless seedlings into specialized, magically darkened dark boxes.
Damian reached out and grabbed a bundle of the small, black vines. The moment he touched them, the tendrils whipped around, desperately trying to tighten around his fingers. However, because the seedling was so small and weak, the deadly attack felt more comical than threatening.
After carefully burying the roots into the soil of the dark box, Damian knew he couldn't just yank his hand away. Using brute physical force to break the grip would snap the fragile vines and ruin the seedling.
"Lumos," Damian muttered softly.
The tip of his wand flared with bright, warm light. The Devils Snare seedling immediately shrieked silently, violently recoiling from the glare and releasing its tight grip on Damian's fingers.
With his task completed flawlessly, Damian looked around the Greenhouse. The transplanting process was incredibly straightforward, and the vast majority of the class had completed it without issue.
However, there were always a few stubborn, impatient students who insisted on trying to break free from the vines using sheer, brute force...
[75 STONES] - Unlock1 Bonus Chapter
[150 STONES] - Unlock 2 Bonus Chapters
[300 STONES] - Unlock 3 Bonus Chapters