"Goodbye, Sir Nicholas. Thank you so much!"
"It's no trouble at all. Helping a studious young wizard is my pleasure!"
On the third floor of Hogwarts Castle, Lykos and Nearly Headless Nick parted ways at a corner of the corridor.
Once Nick floated away, Lykos finally let out a quiet sigh of relief.
The layout of Hogwarts was ridiculously complicated. One wrong turn could lead you somewhere completely unexpected—sometimes even carried away by the ever-moving staircases.
Aside from the mischievous twins Fred and George, even older students wouldn't dare claim they could wander the castle freely without getting lost.
For someone like Lykos, who had just arrived at Hogwarts for the first time, navigating it alone would have been nearly impossible.
Fortunately, he had run into the kind-hearted ghost Nearly Headless Nick, who guided him all the way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office on the third floor.
Before he even entered, Lykos smelled a strong scent of garlic outside the office door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He knocked.
This time, he felt far more nervous than when he had knocked on Snape's door.
"W-who is it?" Quirrell's trembling, stuttering voice came from inside the office.
"Professor, it's me. Lykos Hayden," Lykos said calmly, suppressing the unease in his chest.
"Come in."
Quirrell's stutter vanished instantly, replaced by a cold tone.
Lykos pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Compared to Snape's office, Quirrell's room was slightly brighter, lit by numerous candles.
Several African tribal masks hung on the walls. Nearby stood a large bookshelf filled not only with books but also objects that looked suspiciously like skulls—evidence of Quirrell's travels during the previous year.
A pale young man wearing a purple turban sat on a sofa, staring at Lykos without blinking.
"You're late," Quirrell said coldly after a moment.
"I apologize, Professor," Lykos replied calmly. "I'm not very familiar with the castle yet and got lost."
"That's understandable. I got lost my first time at Hogwarts too," Quirrell said casually, picking up a kettle. "Would you like something to drink?"
Following the principle that speaking more meant risking more mistakes, Lykos simply shook his head and remained silent.
"In that case, let's get straight to the point."
Quirrell stood up from the sofa.
"The Master wishes to speak with you."
As he said this, Quirrell lifted his hands and untied the purple turban from his head, tossing it casually onto a nearby blanket.
His bald head was revealed.
Then he gave Lykos a strange smile and slowly turned around in place.
Lykos's pupils shrank violently.
Even though he had read countless descriptions and seen every depiction of Voldemort in books and films, none of them came close to the horror of witnessing it in person.
Where the back of Quirrell's head should have been, there was a face.
A horrifying, unimaginable face.
Its skin was pale like chalk. Its red eyes glowed faintly. And beneath those eyes were two narrow, snake-like slits for nostrils.
"Lykos… my good child…"
The face spoke, its voice a soft hiss that sounded like both a whisper and a serpent's tongue.
Lykos's mind nearly went blank.
But he knew silence would be dangerous.
Forcing his mouth open, he lowered his head and greeted him.
"My Lord…"
"There's no need to be so nervous, Lykos…" Voldemort said from the back of Quirrell's head, attempting to form a gentle expression. Unfortunately, on that grotesque face, it only looked more disgusting.
"You are my most trusted child, Lykos… I have told you before—you resemble me greatly… in magical talent, in temperament… even in appearance…"
"I have always raised you as my successor…"
When Lykos heard Voldemort claim they looked alike, he glanced at the monster's face and nearly screamed in terror.
Then he quickly realized Voldemort must have meant his younger self.
Which… was probably handsome.
Lykos quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
"I understand, my Lord," he said.
"Good… very good…" Voldemort hissed.
"You know our goal—the Philosopher's Stone."
"Once I recover my power with the Stone… you will become the next Dark Lord."
Lykos sneered internally at the obvious empty promise, but outwardly he maintained a respectful expression.
"Lykos, listen carefully…"
"I suspect the Philosopher's Stone is hidden in the corridor on the fourth floor that Dumbledore mentioned. That old fool must have arranged extremely tight defenses there."
"Remember—you are only a first-year student. Your identity must not be exposed."
"I do not need you to investigate the corridor. That is Quirrell's task."
"Your task is to create a diversion… to give Quirrell an opportunity."
"Do not let the castle caretaker notice him sneaking into the restricted corridor on the fourth floor."
"Do you understand?"
Lykos nodded slightly.
If his role was merely to create a diversion and give Quirrell the chance to sneak out at night…
Perhaps it wouldn't be too difficult.
Hope flickered again in his eyes.
There might still be room to maneuver.
"Go now," Voldemort hissed. "Do not stay here too long. Be careful not to attract Dumbledore's attention…"
After saying this, he closed his crimson eyes.
His facial features shrank and faded, turning into five twisted wrinkles on the back of Quirrell's head.
Quirrell turned back around and smiled at Lykos.
"You should head back now, Lykos. Perhaps you'll still get to enjoy a few days of school life."
…
When Lykos returned to the Slytherin common room, the first-year students were gathered near the fireplace under the supervision of a prefect, chatting together.
Malfoy stood on top of a stool, his face glowing with excitement as he spoke loudly.
Crabbe and Goyle stood nearby, clapping and cheering from time to time to support their leader.
Several new witches sat on the carpet, listening eagerly to the young master of a pure-blood family.
Meanwhile, the blonde Cassandra sat on a chair nearby, lazily reading a book.
"Hey, Hayden! Where did you go earlier?"
Malfoy spotted Lykos entering the common room and waved at him from atop the stool.
"Who would've thought you'd end up sharing a dorm with me, Crabbe, and Goyle!" he said proudly. "Looks like you're destined to be under my protection!"
As he spoke, Malfoy shouted loudly to the surrounding students,
"Did you hear that? Lykos Hayden—he's under my protection!"
Lykos glanced at the overly proud Malfoy, rolled his eyes, and turned away.
He put on an expression that clearly said I don't know this person and walked straight toward the dormitory area on the side of the common room.
With life-threatening danger potentially looming at any moment, how could he possibly have the mood to play around with these carefree young wizards?