The classroom for Defense Against the Dark Arts was colder than the rest of the school, the torches' flicker unable to fully warm the stone walls. Harry entered quietly, settling into a front-row desk. Across from him, students whispered about their new professor—Quirinus Quirrell—rumors that he had returned more composed but haunted.
Professor Quirrell glided to the front, shoulders stooped, a nervous tremor beneath his robes. He placed his hands on the lectern with effort, as though holding himself upright against an invisible force. Harry's Phoenix Force hummed softly in response, drawing him deeper into awareness.
"Today," Quirrell began, voice trembling slightly, "we study the Cornish Pixie—small creatures, blue in color, mischievous and surprisingly strong for their size. A proper Defense charm can subdue them quickly… but beware, for even a moment's hesitation can result in—"
He shuddered, and Harry felt an echo of pain. It wasn't Quirrell's alone; it reverberated with a deeper agony. The Phoenix inside him recoiled at the sensation—remnants of Voldemort's fractured soul, still clinging to Quirrell's flesh.
He's endured this for so long… a man who split his soul into pieces, chasing immortality, suffering eternal torment. Truly a lunatic.
Quirrell recovered and continued the demonstration, summoning three Cornish Pixies into cages. With a flick, he chanted a simple Binding Charm, but the pixies broke free in a flurry of wings and chattering laughter.
The classroom descended into chaos. Students leapt from their desks while Quirrell's voice cracked over the din, calling out counter-spells.
Harry watched with clinical detachment, then suddenly sensed Quirrell's mind opening like a cracked window. Legilimency... he recognized—but this man's defenses were robust. Thanks to the Phoenix Force bolstering his mental core, Harry felt no pull, no intrusion—only the raw, panicked fear radiating from the professor. He sat back calmly as others panicked.
Within moments, Quirrell subdued the last Pixie, and the room fell silent. He managed a stiff bow, voice quivering. "Good... well done. That concludes our exercise. Dismissed."
Harry gathered his things, mind racing with what he'd sensed.
—
Evening in the Library
Later, as dusk settled, Harry slipped into the quiet of the library's restricted section. He pulled out treatises on mental wards, meditation manuals, and the latest notes he'd made in his Arcane Library.
He opened his mind and whispered, "Combine knowledge: magic theory + absorption techniques."
Immediately, the inner Library shimmered. A book of pure gold—leather-bound and glowing faintly—floated into existence on the lectern beside him.
Harry's heart quickened. He tapped into Appraisal Mode:
Book Title: (to be named)Contents: Comprehensive magic theory distilled from wizarding lore; advanced absorption techniques.Effects:• Passive recovery of ambient magic without active meditation.• 300% increase in magic recovery rate during active meditation.• Heightened emotional calm and long-term wisdom through continued study.Flaws: None detected.He breathed deeply. A flawless tome…
He closed the appraisal.
"Void Cultivation Codex," he whispered. The title glowed before fading into the cover.
His mind already spinning with possibilities—and the knowledge that to fully master it, he would need to earn its Golden Page through teaching others and broadening his own understanding.
Tomorrow, Harry thought, I'll start with Neville and Hermione—and perhaps a few more friends after that.