Chapter 196 – A Different Phineas
How can this be?
That was the only thought in Hermione's mind. If what she suspected was true, then everything had just shifted—completely.
Phineas noticed the change in her expression—the flicker of realization, the disbelief in her eyes. He smiled slightly.
"It seems our little Hermione has figured it out. Yes, that's exactly what you're thinking. But don't say it—let them piece it together on their own. What I will say is this: professors who have taught at Hogwarts for more than ten years—like Snape—are deeply trusted by Dumbledore. They wouldn't betray him over some shortsighted scheme. So, your previous assumption? Completely off the mark."
Harry's eyes lit up. He turned to Phineas and asked, "If Dumbledore is guarding against someone, does that mean the threat is from outside the school—or is it someone new among the professors?"
Phineas was pleased. Harry was, after all, the protagonist of this story. A boy capable of being sorted into all four Houses. While his Gryffindor traits had developed fastest, his qualities from the others hadn't vanished. He was growing.
To notice the most obvious clue so quickly—well, that was impressive. Obvious if you saw it, but easily overlooked if you didn't.
Feeney nodded. "All the current professors at Hogwarts have been teaching here for years. All but one."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "You mean... Professor Quirrell? That's impossible. He—"
"You're thinking of how timid and stammering he is?" Phineas interrupted, smiling.
Harry and the others nodded.
"You underestimate him," Phineas said with a soft laugh. "He was once one of the top students in Ravenclaw—brilliant, confident. Just last year, he taught Muggle Studies here, and back then he didn't stutter or act so afraid."
He continued, "And just a year ago, he left Hogwarts on a journey, seeking knowledge and experience to prepare for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Does that sound like someone who trembles at his own shadow now?"
Neville frowned. "Then... why does Dumbledore allow this? Why do the other professors—"
Phineas smiled faintly. "That was the point of the question I asked earlier. I think most of them have noticed something's wrong with Quirrell. But they're waiting."
"Waiting?" Harry asked, puzzled.
Phineas only shook his head. He gave a polite nod to Hagrid and headed back toward the castle, offering no further explanation.
Ron scowled at Phineas's retreating figure. He hated that Slytherin—especially since he got along so well with Fred and George. Ron disliked him almost as much as Percy.
"Harry, you don't really believe him, do you? I mean, Snape's his Head of House, and he's in Slytherin—"
Hermione shot Ron a sharp look. She couldn't believe this was the same awkward boy she'd met on the train. Was this who he truly was?
Rolling her eyes, she followed after Phineas. She had too many questions—about magic, the wizarding world, and Dumbledore—to let him walk away just yet.
Neville let out a breath of relief. He was the only one in the hut who truly understood how dangerous Phineas was—who knew the kind of power he held behind that calm smile.
Hagrid heard Ron's comment and spoke up, "Phineas ain't like the others in Slytherin. He's trustworthy."
Neville hesitated, then turned to Ron and Harry. "Ron... seriously, don't provoke him. You don't want to know what happens if you do."
Harry looked at Neville, confused. Phineas had always seemed like a kind older brother—though he insisted on being called "uncle," much to Harry's discomfort.
Ron looked puzzled too. Hagrid just scratched his beard, a bit slow on the uptake.
Neville took a deep breath. "I've never told you about my parents."
Harry nodded. They knew Neville was from the Longbottom family, but he rarely mentioned anything beyond his strict grandmother.
"My parents," Neville said, voice tight, "are Frank Longbottom and Alice Longbottom."
At those names, Hagrid gasped. He clearly recognized them—and suddenly seemed to understand something about that apology from Phineas.
Neville continued, speaking as calmly as he could. "They were tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange until they lost their minds. They've lived in St. Mungo's ever since."
Harry's brows knit together. "But what does that have to do with Phineas?"
Neville clenched his fists. "Bellatrix Lestrange—formerly Bellatrix Black—is Phineas's cousin."
The last word left him drained, and he stumbled slightly, as if the weight of the truth had sapped his strength.
Ron said awkwardly, "Even if that's true, she's locked up in Azkaban now. What's there to be afraid of?"
Neville shot him a fierce look. "You don't understand. No one in the Black family is simple. Even though Phineas never harmed my family, you all know who the Slytherin Quidditch captain is, right?"
Harry nodded. "Marcus Flint. That troll."
Neville said grimly, "He provoked Phineas last year. After that... the Flint family nearly vanished from the wizarding world."
Ron's jaw dropped. "You're joking! I know Phineas's strong, but he's just a student—"
Hagrid cut in, his voice low. "It's true. Most folks in the magical world know about it. Ron, maybe your mum and dad just didn't tell you."