With classes by day and the laboratory by night, even Harry and the others could see that the professor's complexion was looking a bit off from the strain.
However, they didn't feel it was their place to ask him directly what was going on.
In the Great Hall.
The morning classes had just ended, and the students were gathered there for lunch.
As they were finishing their meal, Harry was about to head back with his friends for a rest when he saw Professor Quirrell walking toward them.
"Miss Granger, I have a few more questions I'd like to ask you. As you know... Muggle society changes so rapidly, yet these textbooks haven't changed much at all."
"Oh... of course, Professor," Hermione replied politely.
Professor Quirrell had been consulting Hermione frequently about the Muggle world lately.
This wasn't actually strange, given that Quirrell was the Professor of Muggle Studies and the wizarding world's books on the subject were severely outdated.
It made sense for Quirrell to seek advice from a Muggle-born student like Hermione.
In fact, Harry and the others had a fairly good impression of Professor Quirrell.
Though he always carried a heavy scent of garlic, he was always polite to his students and didn't put on the usual professor's airs. Compared to a certain 'big bat' who always looked gloomy, he was much more pleasant.
Moreover, Hermione mentioned that Professor Quirrell was the only professor who asked her about the Muggle world. Judging by the outdated textbooks, she felt he was far more competent than any previous Muggle Studies professors.
Over time, the relationship between Harry's group and Professor Quirrell became quite friendly.
Even though they were only in their first year and hadn't started electives yet, they all felt they might choose Quirrell's Muggle Studies class in the future.
Professor Quirrell didn't take much time with his questions and soon left with his newly written notes.
Leaving the Hall, Quirrell quickly returned to his office.
The moment he closed the door, the humble and cowardly expression on his face vanished, replaced by coldness and disgust.
He threw the notebook onto the desk as if it were trash.
"Master... why did Victor Wick want me to take the initiative to approach that Mudblood, Granger? What exactly is he trying to do?"
A raspy voice echoed in his mind, 'Just do as he says. Logic is far smarter than you... To get closer to that boy, starting with the people around him is indeed more natural and effective...'
"Yes..." Quirrell didn't dare say more.
Clearly, although Voldemort felt Victor Wick was becoming difficult to control, he never once doubted the man's ability.
Since Halloween, Snape had disappeared from everyone's sight for two whole weeks.
All Slytherin affairs and Potions class duties were being handled by the substitute, Professor Slughorn.
Except for the Slytherins, students from the other houses were delighted. Some even prayed that Snape would continue to recover from his injuries for a very long time.
There was truly no comparison.
Compared to Snape, everyone much preferred Professor Slughorn.
In Professor Slughorn's class, even if you made a mistake, he wouldn't deduct many points. But if you did well, there were real rewards!
One student had even received a small bottle of Felix Felicis as a prize!
As for Snape... in his class, if you didn't lose points, it was a miracle from Merlin himself. Rewards were out of the question.
In truth, Snape's injuries were mostly healed.
For a wizard, his wounds weren't actually that severe; he only needed to remove the cursed power of the fantastic beast from the wound to recover quickly.
Combined with some of Victor Wick's new formulas, he had regained his mobility and no longer needed to sit in a wheelchair, though he still walked with a slight limp.
However, because Victor had shared a plan with him, he was in no hurry to return to his teaching duties.
Instead, he used this rare idle time to continue studying the formulas.
By now, he had nearly finished the potion recipes for the secret resurrection method.
There were only a few rare materials for which he hadn't yet found perfect substitutes.
The alternatives either had side effects that were too great or caused unwanted reactions with other ingredients. Until these problems were solved, the recipe remained unusable.
Snape was frantically flipping through reference materials when the Communication Stone beside him suddenly vibrated violently!
Snape shot a dissatisfied look at the stone.
Despite his annoyance, he picked it up.
Victor Wick contacting him now likely meant his so-called plan was about to begin.
'But... how does he know my leg is better?'
The moment the stone connected, Victor's calm voice rang in his mind, devoid of his usual joking tone.
"Go out, pass through the library corridor, and head toward the fourth floor. Don't go too fast. Keep the Communication Stone in your pocket to stay in touch."
This familiar coldness made Snape's heart skip a beat. He knew the 'old' Victor Wick had briefly returned.
Whatever was happening tonight might be truly important.
Snape didn't hesitate. He dropped his quill, grabbed his wizard robes, put the stone in his pocket, and strode out of his office.
"Slower..." Victor's voice spoke again.
"You can't go out for a night stroll!"
Late at night, the Gryffindor common room was empty of other students.
Hermione was trying her best to stop the three boys from their reckless adventure.
"Hermione, we have to go! That bastard Malfoy went too far today! Always talking about pure-bloods! Who isn't a pure-blood?!" Neville's face was flushed with anger.
Ron added excitedly, "Yeah! There's three of them, and even if you don't go, there's three of us! Three on three! The advantage is ours!"
Hermione turned to look at Harry, her lips pressed tightly together. "Is... is this what you think too?"
Harry's face was calm, but a flame flickered in his eyes. "If he had said anything else... I would have ignored him. But he shouldn't have insulted my mother and my godfather! That is my bottom line, Hermione... Some things are more important than one's own life. So, we absolutely must go to tonight's duel!"
Hermione opened her mouth, wanting to say more... but remembering what Victor Wick had told her, she swallowed her words.
What she wanted to say was too rational.
It wasn't that her words were wrong.
But while any other Gryffindor could say them, she, as their friend, could not!
'What would Professor Wick do?' Hermione furrowed her brows.
Seeing that Hermione was no longer stopping them, the boys shared a look and headed toward the common room exit under the cover of night.
"Wait!" Hermione hurried over, pulled out her wand, and cast a Felix Felicis Charm on each of them. "I... I'm coming too!"
Harry and the others stared in shock.
This rule-abiding top student was actually going to break school rules with them today?
"The school rules do forbid night-wandering, but... the Gryffindor rule is: as long as you don't get caught, it doesn't count!"
Harry and his friends exchanged glances.
"I don't trust the three of you. If Malfoy's provocation today is a trap... if I'm there, we might have a way to escape. You know I know more spells than you do," Hermione said with a determined look.
Yes, she was going with them. If it were Professor Wick, he would surely do the same, because he was not the type to let his friends face danger alone!
Hermione still remembered the sorrowful look in Victor Wick's eyes as he watched the projections of the Inferi.
Quirrell hurriedly threw on his outer robe, locked his office door, and strode toward the library.
As he walked, his cold expression shifted, and before long, he was once again the cowardly Professor Quirrell.
Soon, Quirrell reached the corridor outside the library. He looked into the distance and caught a glimpse of a black robe turning a corner.
Quirrell's gaze sharpened, and he followed quickly.
Just as Quirrell disappeared, four small heads peeked out from behind a large statue nearby.
"Was that Snape?" Harry stared intently at the corner ahead.
Even if that bat-like outer robe were burnt to ashes, Harry would still recognize it!
"It definitely was Snape... what's going on? I thought he'd gone to St Mungo's..." Ron said dejectedly.
Seeing Snape walking around the school was not good news.
It proved Snape was healed, which meant the old git would be back to teach classes soon.
Neville sighed too; he had just started to feel like he enjoyed Potions.
"Hey! Did none of you notice the person behind Snape?" Hermione snapped, interrupting their moping.
"Professor Quirrell? He's..." Neville finally noticed the purple turban.
"He's tailing Snape!" Hermione frowned.
"Let's follow them and see!" Harry's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Harry, what about the duel with Malfoy?" Ron asked, eyes wide.
"It's still early... and besides, aren't you curious why Quirrell is following Snape? And... that direction leads to the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor!" Harry whispered.
Snape hadn't shown his face for two weeks, and the moment he appeared, it was in the middle of the night heading for the forbidden area, with Quirrell following him.
The mystery involved was enough to pique Harry's curiosity beyond endurance.
"Harry! I don't think we should go looking for trouble!" Hermione was growing anxious.
Following the boys to a duel was already risky enough, and now these guys wanted to tail two professors?!
"No... Hermione, this might be related to what Professor Wick hid on the fourth floor!" Harry said only this before moving to follow.
If they didn't hurry, they would lose them.
Hermione understood what Harry meant and knew she couldn't stop him. Victor Wick had looked unwell lately, seemingly troubled by something, and now there was a potential lead. Harry, eager to repay Victor, wouldn't let it go easily.
Helpless, she kept a sharp eye out and quietly followed the boys.