Of course, once they were back at the castle, the chatter of the young wizards drifted into his ears.

Quirrell had resigned!

The man who had tormented them for almost the entire school year had bolted in the final month, much to the delight of many. At last, no more enduring that indescribable stench.

Only Harry seemed troubled. He had always believed Quirrell was resisting Snape's threats and intimidation, refusing to reveal the trap he himself had set up.

Now that Quirrell was gone, did that mean he had failed?

Harry started watching Snape even more intently, "accidentally" running into him dozens of times a day around the castle.

"Harry Potter! I don't know what you're loitering around the castle for! Is all that homework not enough to calm your restless little mind? Two points from Gryffindor! And if I see you again, I'll make it ten!"

When Tom came to find Snape, he walked right in on the scene of Snape exploding at Harry.

"Professor, I just left something in the classroom," Harry protested, trying desperately to claw back the lost points — though at this point, his inability to see through Snape's true nature was almost impressive in its own way.

As if Snape would give him points back.

In the end, Harry slunk away in frustration, and Tom chuckled to himself. The whole thing was deliciously ironic — James Potter's face drifting around in front of Snape like a taunt, practically fighting on his doorstep.

As for Quirrell's resignation, it wasn't exactly outside Tom's expectations.

Did people really think Andros's punch was something you could just… walk off?

The only reason Quirrell hadn't died on the spot was thanks to Voldemort's mastery of the Dark Arts. Even now, the Patronus magic — the purest counter to evil — was surely still raging inside Quirrell's body, torturing him to the brink of madness.

If Quirrell had actually been able to show up for class today, Tom would have started wondering whether Andros had been holding back… or whether Andros was simply all talk to begin with.

And if Andros ever heard Tom questioning him like that, he'd probably beg for another chance to "demonstrate in person" — this time without knocking him across the room first, but going straight for the kill.

"Find something funny?" Snape's voice came without him even turning around.

"Isn't it funny?" Tom tilted his head in mock confusion.

"I've never seen an idiot laugh."

Snape turned, his expression dark. Of course, he knew Harry suspected him of coveting the treasure hidden on the fourth-floor corridor, but his anger wasn't from being accused — it was because Harry was just so stupid.

With a brain like that, how was the boy ever supposed to survive being caught between Voldemort and Dumbledore's schemes?

"You fall on your face enough times, you get smarter," Tom said, uninterested in discussing child-rearing philosophy. He cut straight to the point: "Professor, I need your help."

"Ironhide Potion, Berserker Potion, Agility Potion — do you have improved versions of these recipes?"

Snape eyed him suspiciously. "And what exactly do you want those for?"

"Just… a sudden interest," Tom replied with an easy smile. "If you have them, I'd like a few samples and the formulas for research."

Snape frowned, clearly unable to figure out what Tom was up to.

These potions temporarily enhanced physical abilities, but in the wizarding world they were practically useless — they did nothing against magical attacks, and a single flash of green light could still kill you instantly.

But for Tom? They were cheating tools of the highest order.

Bare hands? No problem.

No magic allowed? Still no problem.

Nobody ever said he couldn't use potions.

Turn yourself into a rampaging berserker, and suddenly that three-headed dog wasn't so scary after all.

"When I was younger and had too much free time, I did improve those useless potions," Snape said offhandedly, slipping in another display of superiority before narrowing his eyes. "But why should I give them to you? Just because you asked nicely?"

"I'll trade you the spell from last time," Tom countered immediately.

That glowing sphere spell was Andros's own creation — named the Omnisphere Charm — capable of both offense and defense, and not overly difficult to learn. The real challenge lay in its control requirements and massive magical drain, but for Snape, those were hardly obstacles.

Tom, of course, wasn't about to make a loss on the deal. In exchange, he also requested a few of Snape's own original curses — mostly small, nasty hexes, but useful in the right circumstances.

Faced with such a tempting offer, Snape couldn't refuse and agreed on the spot.

He didn't bother asking what Tom intended to do with the potions — not because he wasn't curious, but because he knew Tom wouldn't tell him anyway, and there was no point in wasting breath.

…

With Quirrell gone, Defence Against the Dark Arts essentially became a self-study period.

The other professors had their own classes to teach; even if they managed to squeeze in the occasional substitute lesson, it wasn't enough to create a coherent curriculum. Quirrell had made such a mess of the subject this term that none of them even knew where to start patching it up.

In the end, the only option was to let students review freely. As for the final exam — that no longer mattered. Dumbledore had already promised no one would fail.

A week later, Tom finished recording his data on feeding a unicorn with the Patronus Charm, along with his personal observations on forming a magical contract with it, and sent the results off.

Thanks to their first exchange, Tom now bore the Scamander family's unique magical seal — which meant he could send letters directly to Newt Scamander via owl, without having to trouble Dumbledore as an intermediary.

Not that he doubted old Dumbledore's integrity, but letters were private, and it was simply more comfortable sending them directly.

Keeping on good terms with Newt was worth the effort. With nine trials still ahead, Tom was almost certain he'd need Newt's help again.

True to his word, Snape delivered the improved recipes and several bottles of potions he had brewed himself. Tom tried making two batches on his own, then drank his own potion and Snape's potion in separate tests — sparring against Max and Leo to compare effects.

The difference was about twenty percent. Not bad. Snape truly was the potions master both Voldemort and Dumbledore valued so highly. Tom was sure he had executed the process perfectly, yet the quality still fell short of Snape's work.

Since Snape's potions were better, he'd just use those. No sense wasting time here — not with final exams looming.