"Devro? Devro? Wake up! What are you doing sleeping here?"
A chorus of voices echoed through the room, accompanied by someone shaking him.
Devro slowly opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light. Standing in front of him was a tall, burly boy with a concerned look on his face. It was Marcus, the prefect of Slytherin.
"Sorry, Marcus. I was up studying too late last night… What time is it?" Devro mumbled, wiping his face as he got up from the sofa. He looked completely exhausted.
"It's half past eight. If you head to the Great Hall now, you should still have time for breakfast before class," Marcus said, relieved to see Devro on his feet. "You really should get more rest. Being top of the year doesn't mean pulling all-nighters. If you catch a cold, your grades will only suffer."
Marcus gave a sincere warning—he was a senior, after all—then turned and left the common room to head to class.
At this hour, the common room was nearly empty. Most students had already gone to the Great Hall for breakfast since class was about to begin.
Devro still felt drained. But what he'd done the night before had been far more exciting than reading textbooks.
"Ravenclaw's relic…" he muttered, recalling the information he had seen just before falling asleep.
He already had a theory: Voldemort's Horcrux might have been influenced by the Hogwarts founder's relic. It had been with the relic for so long that it likely absorbed part of the founder's magical essence. This would mean that the Horcrux could use the founder's magic, at least to some extent.
Thinking of this, Devro touched the scarf he kept close to his chest.
A spell and a line of dialogue immediately surfaced in his mind:
[Spell Library: Disillusionment Charm (Proficient)]
"Little one, to make it easier for you to come over, I'll give you this spell for free. If there's anything else you want to learn in the future, come find me. I know everything. But remember this—wisdom cannot be given, only earned through your own practice."
Devro picked up his wand, hesitated for a moment, then waved it over his head.
Instantly, it felt like an egg cracked open over him. A thick, transparent liquid flowed across his body, coating him entirely.
He looked at the dressing mirror in the common room.
It was impressive. Unless someone looked closely, they wouldn't notice him at all.
After observing for a while, he could still sense a slight unnaturalness, a faint shimmer perhaps—but still, for nighttime use, the spell was more than effective.
"It can even implant spells directly into my brain… Is this the effect of the [Wilderness of Knowledge]?" he wondered aloud. "It can teach anything…"
Devro frowned as he pondered the implications. Honestly, not even Dumbledore seemed capable of knowing everything. But this young version of Voldemort had seen through the source of Devro's Zen meditation in an instant.
It was unsettling, and at the same time, strangely convincing. Maybe this Voldemort really did possess ultimate knowledge.
And given his attitude so far, it was hard to judge whether he was truly an enemy anymore.
Not to mention, he offered free spell lessons.
That alone was enough to make Devro decide—he wouldn't mention any of this to Dumbledore. At least, not yet.
He had no plans to visit Voldemort again right away either. First, he needed to strengthen himself.
Even if he couldn't be mind-read, the Killing Curse would still end him just like anyone else. He didn't have Harry's protection from love magic.
Wait!
Devro's eyes lit up as he suddenly remembered something. He had copied Harry's love protection entry before!
He quickly opened his entry library.
[Love Protection (Gold/Closed)]
There it was. But unfortunately, it was still locked.
"If only I could find a blood relative…" he thought.
Then he'd have a real shot at activating the love protection. And then he could face Voldemort with confidence.
Given his parents were from different countries, it was unlikely that all of his family was gone.
And if he wanted to trace them, he only had one lead—Snape.
Devro felt an immediate urge to facepalm.
"Damn it. Of all people, he has this crucial info!"
Devro began pacing in front of the fireplace. His current plan was simple: trick Snape into revealing information about his blood relatives. Then find them. Activate the Protection of Love. And finally, come back to Hogwarts to exploit this Voldemort for spells.
Perfect plan.
Having sorted out his priorities, Devro shifted his focus.
That operation yesterday had significantly increased his castle exploration progress.
[Current Wizarding Mystery Realm: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry]
[Exploration Progress: 9.81%]
Still, the number gave him a bit of a headache.
After everything he'd done, he wasn't even at 10%.
In contrast, places like Diagon Alley had been fully explored in no time. Even the train station was complete.
But now that the purple entry loading cooldown had ended, he had to decide whose entry to copy next.
Currently, he didn't urgently need anyone's purple entry. He'd just copy whoever he bumped into in class later.
With that decided, Devro took a deep breath and headed to the bathroom to wash up.
He wasn't planning on eating breakfast.
After a quick cleanup, he walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom just as the bell rang.
Though he'd only been at Hogwarts for two days, Devro had already memorized the castle's basic layout. It would be crucial for deeper exploration later.
So far, he had no record of being late.
Harry and Ron, on the other hand, had already been late twice.
But this time, Devro immediately regretted being punctual.
The smell in Quirrell's classroom was absolutely awful.
The room was filled with an overwhelming garlic odor that made Devro feel like he was suffocating. Just standing there gave him a sense of dread.
He had a sinking feeling this would become his most hated class—second only to Potions.
He tried to find a seat at the back, where the smell was weaker. Unfortunately, he was too late. The only available seat was in the front row.
Devro sighed and sat down reluctantly, fighting the urge to gag.
Professor Quirrell entered the classroom, carrying two books, and began his lecture in a trembling voice.
"Hello everyone. I-I am Professor Quirinus Quirrell. I'll be teaching you Defense Against the Dark Arts. You c-can just call me Professor Quirrell. Now, everyone, please take out…"
Devro, meanwhile, opened Quirrell's panel to take a look.
[Name: Quirinus Quirrell]
[Age: 33 years old]
[Spell Library: Finite Incantatem (Proficient), Banishing Charm (Proficient)…]
[Entries: Magical Talent (Purple), Exam Genius (Purple), Chameleon (Green)]
[Magical Talent (Purple): Possesses magical aptitude beyond ordinary wizards. Learns spells faster and has creative potential.]
[Exam Genius (Purple): Exceptionally skilled at studying textbooks, has photographic memory, and handles exams with ease.]
[Chameleon (Green): Cowardly, greedy, and weak-willed. Easily manipulated by those stronger than him.]
Devro couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
Quirrell was a walking contradiction: gifted in magic and academics, yet spineless to the core.
No wonder he reeked of garlic—he was probably terrified of dark creatures, or worse, of someone like Voldemort himself.
Devro made a mental note to observe him more closely.
There might be more going on beneath that trembling voice.