A Certain Magical Hogwarts

In his previous life, William had once seen a peculiar job advertisement:

"Syrian conflict zone hiring summer workers. Flexible hours. 8,000 per day, paid daily.

Similar to playing PUBG. Includes guns, rocket launchers, and off-road armored trucks. Full meals and accommodation provided."

The ad's outrageous offer immediately caught William's attention. Being a skilled gamer, he was confident in his "camp and snipe" tactics.

Unfortunately, he was underage at the time and couldn't apply.

Regardless of whether the ad was real or fake, it highlighted a simple truth: high risk yields high reward.

Similarly, mortuary attendants in some regions earned premium wages, as the job often involved the risk of encountering paranormal occurrences. One scratch from a ghostly nail might even turn you into a ghost yourself.

So, what about the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts?

Low pay

Heavy workload

Constant pressure

A whimsical, eccentric boss

And most importantly: extremely high mortality rates.

In three consecutive years, two professors had died, and one had been sent to Azkaban. And that was just what William knew; there were likely more cases he hadn't heard about.

The cursed reputation of the Defense Against the Dark Arts position was once again making waves throughout the school.

…

What was the cause of Quirrell's Death?

Naturally, the students were quick to absolve themselves of any involvement.

After much analysis, they concluded that Quirrell's death was due to the overwhelming pressures of teaching at Hogwarts.

As the sole Defense professor for all seven years, Quirrell's workload was immense. He woke earlier than Hagrid, slept later than Filch, and had a packed, non-stop schedule during the day.

Even the healthiest body would eventually break down.

"Professor Binns died from stress too," some students noted. "And even in death, he's forced to keep teaching!"

As for their pranks? Those, they claimed, were simply their way of lightening Quirrell's burden.

It sounded so reasonable that even William couldn't argue against it.

…

The Forbidden Corridor

Dumbledore stood silently before Quirrell's corpse, his expression unreadable.

Snape's face was dark as he gazed at the empty bottle of poison on the table, a knot tightening in his chest.

It wasn't Quirrell's death that upset him—it was the implications for himself.

Regardless of the other injuries Quirrell had suffered, the ultimate cause of death was poison, and Snape had brewed it.

Would he have to go to Azkaban again?

'Bloody hell!' he thought. 'I should've just brewed cough syrup instead of actual poison.'

"Don't worry, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Take a look at the back of Quirrell's head."

Curious, Snape approached the body and rolled it over. Quirrell's bald head revealed a noticeable indentation on the back, as if something had once been there but was now gone.

"What is this?"

"A dark magic of the highest order," Dumbledore explained.

"It allows a wizard to inhabit the body of another and even use their host's physical form to some extent. But it comes at a great cost, the host's life will be rapidly drained."

"Who was attached to Quirrell?" Snape asked, his voice trembling.

"You know who it was, Severus." Dumbledore's gaze remained fixed on the body.

Snape's face twisted with fury. "You knew all along… that he was there, on the back of Quirrell's head?"

"Yes," Dumbledore admitted. "From the first time I met Quirrell, I sensed something off. He hid it well, but I'm far more observant than most.

"After the incident at Gringotts, I was certain of my suspicions."

"And yet you allowed him to stay in the school?" Snape snapped, glaring at Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, is your head filled with troll snot?!

"This school is full of students! And Potter—impulsive, arrogant, reckless, ignorant—he's a walking target! That man would stop at nothing to kill him!

"Were you not afraid?"

"Severus, the choices Harry will face in the future will be far more perilous than this," Dumbledore replied, his voice calm but deep.

"This was a test, a crucible. He is important. If he cannot handle even this, I must reconsider my plans.

"Also, I kept a close watch on Quirrell."

"And Quirrell's death? Was that part of your plan too?" Snape asked mockingly.

Dumbledore didn't answer immediately, and the silence was heavy.

In truth, Quirrell's death was an unforeseen complication.

In Dumbledore's original plan, Harry would have gradually uncovered Quirrell's secret, entered the Forbidden Corridor with his friends, and bravely confronted Voldemort. 

Relying on the protection left by Lily, Harry would emerge victorious.

That was the story's intended course.

But plans rarely survive reality.

Dumbledore hadn't anticipated Voldemort's rampage in the Forbidden Forest, recklessly draining Quirrell's life force. Nor did he expect Voldemort to attempt stealing the Philosopher's Stone immediately after a life and death battle.

Most surprising of all, Quirrell, the unwitting pawn, had died before the climax of the story.

Dumbledore was now at a loss.

"What do you plan to do about this corridor?" Snape asked. "And the Philosopher's Stone?"

"We'll leave it as is," Dumbledore sighed. "I know Voldemort well, better than he knows himself.

"He hasn't left. He wouldn't just walk away. He's hiding somewhere within the school."

"Where?" Snape frowned.

"There are many possibilities," Dumbledore admitted. "I'll investigate each one, but my concern is that he may be hiding somewhere I've yet to discover."

"A part of the school you don't know about?" Snape asked sarcastically.

"Severus, Hogwarts holds many secrets. Even I don't know them all.

"There's one place I've long suspected exists, but I've yet to pinpoint its location."

Snape eyed Dumbledore skeptically, unsure if he was being serious.

"What about Quirrell? A Defense Against the Dark Arts professor dying mysteriously in the schoolh, ow will you explain that to the Ministry?"

Dumbledore had anticipated this question.

"Quirrell attacked Gringotts," he said. "He was a dark wizard who infiltrated the school.

"I suspect Cornelius Fudge will be pleased to see such a criminal apprehended, even if its as a corpse."

"And the evidence? Will the Ministry believe you?"

"My word is evidence enough. He wasn't in his quarters but in the Forbidden Corridor at midnight, attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone.

"He died trying."

"Perhaps he was just curious…" Snape countered. "That doesn't sound like solid evidence."

"William is my witness. I'll have him testify before the Aurors, confirming that Quirrell was the dark wizard who attacked Gringotts."

"That's a bad idea," Snape said, shaking his head. "As the sole witness, William's testimony will surely be made public.

"The papers will run with headlines like: 'Youngest Merlin Award Winner Foils Dark Wizard Again!'

"Won't all the praise go to his head?"

"William is more mature than you think."

Snape shrugged, unconvinced. He disliked Stark but didn't want him to end up as arrogant as Potter.

Speaking of which… why was Potter's personality so utterly unlike Lily's?

Snape sighed deeply. 

If Harry had been a girl, he would have adopted her without hesitation.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and Quirrell's body floated into the air, encased in a large box.

Picking up the parchment on the table, Dumbledore glanced at the empty bottle labeled No. 4 and hesitated.

"Severus," he finally asked, "what was the correct answer to your riddle?"

Snape looked puzzled.

"Why? You didn't know? It's obvious—'Dumbledore' is bottle No. 2, and 'Snape' is No. 8."

"…"

"Wait…am I wrong?" Snape frowned, suddenly uncertain. "It must be correct! If it's wrong, the error is yours, Headmaster!"

Dumbledore said nothing. For the first time, he felt a pang of sympathy for Quirrell.

The man truly died in vain.

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