The Great Hall.
After the Banquet.
Tonight's banquet was more than just an occasion for feasting; it was also abuzz with one major piece of news. Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, had been seriously injured by a dark wizard and was now on indefinite leave.
Starting this week, Professor Snape would be taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes until either Quirrell returned or the semester ended.
David found this arrangement highly questionable. How could Snape possibly manage two full subjects across all seven years? Class schedules were bound to conflict.
Though it was something David had dreamed of—Snape being in charge of Defense Against the Dark Arts—he couldn't ignore the logistical nightmare it would create.
That said, he wasn't surprised by Quirrell's absence. The man had been in terrible shape after their last encounter. David wasn't sure how much damage he had inflicted, but the chances of Quirrell returning in just ten days or even a few weeks seemed slim. He might never come back at all.
But it didn't really matter. As long as Voldemort remained alive and the Philosopher's Stone was still within Hogwarts, he would never give up.
An Unexpected Encounter
"Malfoy?"
David, on his way back to the Ravenclaw Tower, came to a halt as Draco Malfoy stepped into his path. He frowned, confused.
Ever since Malfoy had been beaten up by five senior Slytherins, he had treated David like the plague, avoiding him at all costs. Outside of class, he never dared to come near.
So why now? What had given him the confidence to confront David tonight?
"I… I just wanted to say sorry," Draco stammered, avoiding eye contact. "Adrian, it was me who pushed things too far last time. I—I apologize."
Then, as if eager to get it over with, he thrust a book into David's hands.
"This is my compensation gift."
David eyed the book curiously. Its cover was old, yellowed, and inscribed in an unfamiliar script—not in any mainstream European language but something resembling Middle Eastern writing. The material felt thick, almost like it was made from animal hide.
"A very old book from the Middle East?"
"This is The Book of Balance by Abu Musa Jabir ibn Hayyan, one of the most famous alchemists of the eighth century. It's a Malfoy family heirloom," Draco explained hastily. "I brought it as an apology."
David remained silent, still examining the book.
For the past few weeks, Draco had been living in constant fear that David would retaliate. His paranoia had grown so intense that he frequently woke up from nightmares in which his limbs were broken by David.
Unable to bear the pressure any longer, Draco had finally confessed everything to his parents over the Christmas break—his feud with David, the Hogwarts Express incident, and his failed attempt to have David punished through senior Slytherins.
He had hoped his father would intervene and put David in his place.
Instead, Lucius Malfoy had berated him for being an idiot.
"You want me to help you?" his father had sneered. "You dug this hole yourself. You can climb out of it yourself."
Lucius had then ordered him to apologize and seek David's forgiveness. If Draco failed, he could forget about receiving any help—even if David beat him to death.
Lucius had personally chosen The Book of Balance as an apology gift after hearing that David had been studying alchemy extensively.
Draco had not understood why his father—one of Hogwarts' governors and the head of the Malfoy family—had to go to such lengths to appease a single student. Wasn't the Malfoy name powerful enough to settle this matter with just a word?
But now, standing before David, Draco was regretting everything.
David finally took the book from Draco's hands.
"In that case, I'll accept this," he said slowly. "Consider the matter settled. But if there's a next time… it won't be just a book."
Draco let out a long breath of relief. His father's command had been fulfilled.
After scurrying away, he rushed straight to the Owlery to send a letter home, reporting that his task was complete.
Draco was a spoiled child, oblivious to the harsh realities of the world. He had grown up basking in the glory of being part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, convinced of his family's invincibility.
But in truth, the Malfoys had suffered greatly.
They had thrown their lot in with Voldemort, only to be treated as little more than disposable pawns.
After Voldemort's first downfall, Lucius had spent a fortune pulling strings to avoid Azkaban, sacrificing vast amounts of wealth in the process.
Now, he could not afford to make another mistake.
He knew firsthand how quickly powerful wizards could rise. Voldemort had left school as just another brilliant student—only to return as a force no one but Dumbledore could stand against.
Lucius had no intention of making an enemy out of someone like that ever again.
A Curious Christmas Gift
"David, what did Malfoy want?"
Back in the Ravenclaw dormitory, Terry Boot caught up with him, eager for gossip.
"He apologized."
David showed him the book.
"Huh. That's unexpected."
Terry, however, was quickly distracted by something else.
"By the way, do you know why my phone won't turn on?"
He pulled out a brand-new Motorola flip phone.
"It was a Christmas gift from my parents so I could stay in touch. Owls are way too slow. But it won't work at all!"
David sighed. "You seriously don't know? Muggle technology doesn't work at Hogwarts. The magic here interferes with it."
Terry groaned. "So I guess asking Professor Flitwick for a charging spell is pointless?"
"Completely pointless."
Terry slumped in disappointment.
David, however, was already thinking ahead. Wouldn't that Muggle-born boy coming next year somehow get his camera to work? How did that work?
The Room of Requirement
David slipped away later that night, making his way to the Room of Requirement.
Inside, Cassandra and Penelope were already there.
Cassandra was practicing weather spells, while Penelope was engrossed in The Runic Dictionary and Runic Pictograms.
Hermione and Cho Chang had never joined their training sessions.
Since distancing herself from Ron and Harry, Hermione had become a model student—strictly following the rules, uninterested in dueling or practical combat.
Cho Chang, meanwhile, was too focused on Quidditch. With weekend practices and nightly training sessions, she barely had time for anything else.
Cassandra immediately approached David.
"Here!" she said excitedly, handing him two books. "I found these at home—spellbooks on Fire Escape and Gubler Fairy Fire! But I couldn't find anything on The Fire God's Path."
David's eyes lit up.
"Good job!"
Cassandra beamed at the praise.
She had searched everywhere over the break—her father's study, their home library, even secret chambers.
Eventually, when her mother left for a tea party, she had sneaked into her parents' bedroom and found the books hidden away.
"David," she hesitated, "will you teach me the Fiendfyre spell after you master it?"
David smirked. "Of course."
Cassandra was too talented to waste, and David had no reason to keep knowledge from his allies.
He flipped through the Gubler Fairy Fire book and immediately realized his mistake.
Unlike the Fiendfyre spell, which burned wildly and required constant magical control, Gubler's fire was everlasting. It burned indefinitely, neither growing nor shrinking.
A self-sustaining, inextinguishable flame.
Smiling, David raised his wand.
"Gubler Fairy Fire."
A steady, golden flame ignited, floating in the air.
And then, much to Cassandra and Penelope's shock—
David placed the dragon egg into the fire.
For a moment, they genuinely thought he was about to cook it.
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