Vison spent a peaceful Christmas with his family in New York.
During this time, he constantly monitored his sister Ariana's condition, but disappointingly, there was no visible change—she remained the same as always.
Meanwhile, the Christmas holiday at Hogwarts was as lively as ever.
For Harry, this was probably the most enjoyable holiday he had ever experienced—every day was filled with delicious food and fun.
But the break was short. Soon, school resumed, and students returned to Hogwarts one after another. The castle gradually became lively again.
On the first day of term, Professor Weasley—Vison—arrived on time and even made it for breakfast.
In the Great Hall
"Professor Weasley," said Professor Flitwick, who was wearing a brand-new robe as he sat next to Vison, "How was your holiday?"
"Same as usual," Vison replied casually while eating a slice of pumpkin pie. "I went back to New York and spent Christmas with my family..."
Before he could finish, his eyes were drawn to the entrance of the Great Hall.
Quirrell was slowly walking in. His purple turban was wrapped tighter than before, nearly covering half his face.
He moved through the student tables expressionlessly, reached the professors' table, and sat down in the corner.
As Quirrell passed by, Vison noticed something surprising—the strong garlic smell that used to cling to him was gone.
Professor Flitwick also noticed and whispered, "I heard Quirrell went to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for recovery. Well… he does look better now."
"Indeed... like a different person," Vison murmured.
A person's mental state is often visible through their behavior.
Although this Defense Against the Dark Arts professor looked much improved, there was something off. His movements were too smooth, too deliberate—completely unlike the nervous, stuttering Quirrell from the previous term.
"Eldra."
[Name: Quirinus Quirrell]
[Occupation: Wizard]
Still just Quirrell.
Maybe Voldemort had left him. Quirrell's complexion was definitely much improved.
Professor Flitwick glanced at Quirrell, who was leisurely eating steak, and asked Vison, "You substituted for Quirrell in Defense Against the Dark Arts for a while, didn't you? Professor Weasley?"
"Ah, yes."
Vison nodded, still watching Quirrell. "But now that he's back, my temporary role is over."
"That's a pity," Flitwick said, shaking his head. "The students all said you taught very well."
Vison simply shrugged. It was Dumbledore's decision, after all.
At that moment, Quirrell seemed to notice their gaze and turned to look at them.
He even smiled at Vison.
That smile gave Vison an inexplicable sense of unease.
But where did Lord Voldemort go?
At the Gryffindor Table
Hermione had returned to Hogwarts a day early and was now having breakfast with Harry and Ron.
Harry was fiddling with the small wooden amulet Professor Weasley had given him.
No matter how he looked at it, it just seemed like an ordinary piece of wood.
"Professor Weasley gave you a gift?" Hermione asked, sounding a bit envious. "Can I take a look?"
"Sure."
Harry handed over the thunderstruck wood amulet.
Hermione examined it, and her expression changed to one of realization.
Seeing this, Harry leaned in. "Do you know what it does?"
"No," Hermione shook her head, "but it's definitely magical. Look at these markings—those are Runic symbols.
We'll learn about them in Ancient Runes class in third year."
"Ancient Runes?"
Harry blinked. "What do the runes mean?"
Hermione handed the amulet back and shook her bushy hair.
"You can go to the library to find out. I can't remember every rune off the top of my head."
"I thought she knew everything…" Ron mumbled under his breath, "Look at how bossy she usually is…"
"What did you say?" Hermione shot him a sharp glare.
"N-nothing!" Ron replied quickly, waving his hands. "I was just…"
"Just?" Hermione pressed.
"Um…"
Suddenly, as if struck by an idea, Ron quickly changed the subject. "By the way! Do you know Nicolas Flamel?"
"Nicolas Flamel?" Hermione frowned. The name sounded familiar.
Harry, remembering something, added, "We learned about him from Hagrid.
After you left school, he mentioned Fluffy—you know, that three-headed dog on the fourth floor.
It's guarding something related to Flamel."
Hermione crossed her arms, thinking hard.
"You two really dug up a lot of secrets while I was away," she muttered.
Harry nodded. "I think the fourth floor's a kind of trial—like Hogwarts is testing us."
Hermione sighed. "Even if it is a test, it's probably meant for older students, not first-years."
"It doesn't hurt to try," Ron said, puffing up a bit. "We're Gryffindor! We've got courage!"
"What you need is a brain," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "And by the way, 'courage' and 'bravery' mean the same thing, Ron.
Besides, this isn't just a game."
Harry quickly intervened to stop their bickering. "Hermione, do you know who Nicolas Flamel is?"
She frowned in thought, silent for a few seconds—then her eyes lit up.
"Cough cough…"
Ron choked on his sausage, startled by her sudden expression.
Harry patted his back and asked Hermione, "What is it? Do you know him?"
"I know where I've seen that name!" she exclaimed.
Harry and Ron leaned in closer.
"There's a book with his name on it in Professor Weasley's office," she said confidently. "I saw it on his bookshelf when I went to ask him a question before."
Harry instantly jumped to his feet. "Let's go check it out!"
"Don't rush," Hermione said, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. "Our first class this morning is Potions.
Do you really want to be late for Snape's class?"
Harry sank back into his seat with a groan.
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