Staying awake until three in the morning always brought trouble.
Otherwise, how could he possibly have run into this man?
The moment he heard the voice behind him, Argus's blood pressure spiked and every muscle in his body tensed instinctively.
He didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.
Quirinus Quirrell.
Hogwarts' Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
More importantly…
The current host of Voldemort himself.
Argus had already attracted enough attention simply by arriving at Hogwarts under the name Grindelwald. There was no way Voldemort wouldn't take interest in him.
"Calm down," Argus silently warned himself. "Dumbledore is still in the castle. Voldemort won't act recklessly unless I expose something unusual."
After several seconds of mental preparation, his usual gentle smile finally returned.
"Good evening, Professor Quirrell."
"G-good evening… M-Mr. Grindelwald."
Quirrell's stutter sounded even worse than usual tonight. The smell of garlic surrounding him was so strong it practically burned the air.
"W-why aren't you asleep in your dormitory?" Quirrell asked nervously. "W-what are you doing here?"
"Sorry, Professor," Argus replied naturally. "I went to the kitchens for a late-night snack."
"A midnight snack?"
"That's right," Argus continued calmly. "I got too absorbed in reading earlier and accidentally slept through dinner. I only woke up around midnight."
"R-really?" Quirrell gave a weak smile while carefully studying him. "I-it's rare to see such a hardworking young wizard."
His eyes swept repeatedly across Argus's face.
Then suddenly—
Quirrell's expression changed.
The colour drained from his face almost instantly, and his gaze became strangely conflicted, almost hesitant.
Argus immediately sensed something was wrong.
Those eyes…
They had changed completely.
Without drawing attention to it, Argus quietly took half a step backwards.
"Professor," he said politely, "if there's nothing else, I should probably return to the Slytherin dormitory before Filch catches me."
"Sweet dreams."
"W-wait…"
Cold sweat dripped from Quirrell's forehead as though he were enduring tremendous pain. His smile became twisted and unnatural.
"M-Mr. Grindelwald… if you'd like… perhaps you could bring your books to my office sometime. I could personally tutor you."
"Thank you, Professor," Argus replied smoothly while continuing to retreat, "but it's already very late tonight. I wouldn't want to trouble you further."
"I'll definitely visit another day."
The moment he turned to leave, Quirrell's entire aura suddenly shifted.
The nervous cowardice vanished completely.
His posture straightened.
His eyes became cold, sharp, and filled with terrifying confidence.
Argus's pupils contracted violently.
At the same time, his Occlumency activated almost instinctively.
The Imperius Curse?!
Damn it.
Voldemort had actually made a move against him.
Argus cursed inwardly.
He never should've agreed to sneak out for a midnight snack with the Weasley twins. Life at Hogwarts had been peaceful for too long, and he'd gradually lowered his guard without noticing.
He truly needed to become stronger as quickly as possible.
Unfortunately, now wasn't the time to think about future plans.
Whether he could escape tonight was the real problem.
Argus forced himself to remain calm. Any sudden reaction might expose far too much.
"Professor," he said with the same polite smile, "it's not that I'm refusing your invitation. It's simply too late."
"I still have classes tomorrow morning."
"Professor McGonagall definitely won't appreciate me sleeping through Transfiguration."
A flicker of surprise flashed through Quirrell's eyes.
He clearly hadn't expected Argus to recover from the brief mental interference so quickly.
"How interesting…" Quirrell murmured softly.
Then he smiled.
"Mr. Grindelwald fears his professors?"
"I'm a student," Argus replied casually. "Wouldn't it be strange if I didn't?"
Just then—
Clack. Clack.
Faint footsteps echoed through the corridor in the distance.
Argus immediately raised his voice slightly, making sure the newcomer could hear him clearly.
"Professor Quirrell, I really am exhausted tonight. Thank you for the invitation, and I'll definitely visit another day to apologise properly!"
The approaching footsteps paused briefly.
Then they sped up dramatically.
"Mr. Grindelwald."
A cold, familiar voice cut through the corridor.
"If I remember correctly, you should currently be asleep in your bed instead of wandering around the castle like some brainless Gryffindor."
For the first time in his life, Argus found Severus Snape's voice unbelievably pleasant.
Quirrell slowly turned toward the approaching Potions Master. Surprisingly, instead of annoyance, there was only deeper interest in his eyes when he looked back at Argus.
"Mr. Grindelwald," Quirrell said softly, "I believe we'll meet again soon."
"I hope you won't reject my invitation next time."
"Of course, Professor," Argus replied with perfect politeness.
Snape's arrival instantly removed most of the pressure weighing on him.
The moment Argus turned around, however, he came face-to-face with Snape's terrifying expression.
The man's face looked dark enough to murder someone.
"Mr. Grindelwald," Snape said slowly, "would you care to explain to your hardworking Head of House why you are breaking school rules on the second night of term?"
"I simply went for a late-night snack, Professor."
"A late-night snack?" Snape sneered. "Perhaps a Calming Draught from Madam Pomfrey would suit you better."
"Congratulations, Mr. Grindelwald. Your exceptionally brave behaviour has earned you one week of detention."
"Slytherin loses five points."
"Report to Filch tomorrow evening."
"And now," Snape said coldly, "return to your dormitory immediately."
"Yes, Professor."
Argus nodded obediently, though his expression remained unreadable.
As he walked away toward the Slytherin dungeons, he could still hear Snape's icy voice behind him.
"Professor Quirrell… I assume you understand perfectly well…"
.....
Inside the Headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore sat quietly in his chair while lightly tapping his fingers against the armrest.
Ever since hearing about Ron Weasley's behaviour earlier that day, the wrinkles between his brows had not relaxed for even a moment.
He was old.
Far too old.
Facing Voldemort again in his current state was almost impossible.
Harry Potter was the future.
From Harry's birth to his admission into Hogwarts, every step of his life had been carefully arranged by Dumbledore himself.
And among those arrangements…
Ron Weasley was meant to become Harry's closest companion.
Dumbledore originally believed the Weasley family's bloodline, influence, and loyalty would make Ron the perfect support for Harry in the years to come.
But tonight, he had begun to realise something deeply troubling.
What if Ron lacked the qualities necessary to stand beside the Boy Who Lived?
Dumbledore's standards for Harry's companions had never been as simple as friendship.
Harry needed people who could guide him, support him, and help him mature into the wizard capable of defeating Voldemort.
Yet what had Ron shown so far?
The mistake in Potions class could perhaps be dismissed as childish recklessness.
But Flying class?
That was different.
That wasn't merely incompetence anymore.
That was the kind of behaviour capable of leading Harry astray.
If Harry eventually became jealous, impulsive, and desperate for attention because of poor influences around him, then how could he ever become Voldemort's equal?
Dumbledore had spent the entire evening thinking about this problem.
Just then, the stone gargoyle guarding the office entrance slowly moved aside.
Snape strode inside, his black robes billowing behind him like the wings of an enormous bat.
"Severus," Dumbledore said tiredly, "you've come."
"Quirrell encountered Mr. Grindelwald tonight," Snape said immediately.
Dumbledore's eyes snapped open.
His previously relaxed posture straightened slowly.
"What happened?"
"It should've been accidental," Snape replied after a brief pause.
"And why do you believe that?"
Snape considered his answer carefully.
"Because Argus clearly dislikes Quirrell."
"No," he corrected himself coldly. "Disgust would be more accurate."
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
"So… he sensed it."
"You think he can sense… him?"
"Argus Grindelwald's Occlumency is exceptional," Dumbledore said quietly while rubbing his temples. "Even I cannot fully read his true thoughts."
"In Voldemort's current condition, attempting Legilimency recklessly could easily alert him."
"Severus."
Dumbledore's expression suddenly turned serious.
"I need you to do something for me."
Snape let out a mocking sneer.
"Our esteemed Headmaster now needs someone to monitor an eleven-year-old child?"
"It isn't surveillance," Dumbledore replied calmly. "I simply want you to pay closer attention to him."
"He resembles an old friend of mine very closely… and he's already become quite close to Harry."
"I'm concerned—"
"Concerned about what?" Snape interrupted sharply. "Mr. Grindelwald possesses considerably more intelligence than Potter and Weasley combined."
"At the very least, he doesn't run around the castle behaving like an idiot."
Dumbledore looked directly into Snape's eyes.
"You understand exactly what I mean."
"We cannot afford failure."
"Harry's upbringing must remain flawless."
Snape said nothing.
He simply turned to leave.
Then Dumbledore spoke once more.
"He is Lily's son."
"And just like her… he has those same emerald green eyes."
Snape stopped walking.
His body trembled faintly.
"We must do everything possible to create the perfect environment for Harry's growth," Dumbledore said softly.
"We cannot allow anyone to interfere with our plans."
"Severus."
Silence filled the office for a long time.
Then, without another word, Snape walked straight out of the Headmaster's office.
"I know."
....
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