Defence Against the Dark Arts –which he was actually looking forward to– ended up being a load of rubbish. Harry also very much wanted to avoid that class, considering the creepy, pain inducing, turban wearing Professor –whose name was Quirrell– was the teacher. The man was more nervous and fidgety than even Neville, but Harry could feel an ugly sort of aura around him. Whenever Harry's eyes wandered towards him, it was because he had to stifle a flinch. Those eyes seemed to be ever-trained on him. And Harry really wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light —eyes constantly flashing from red to blue. He didn't understand, the careful, cold contemplation that seemed to wash off him in waves, even as he was teased for hiding garlic in his turban.