Third Floor

It was as soon as the next day that the Ministry had taken the full thrust of Harry's energy in the Daily Prophet to begin drafting new legislation and budgetary reforms before the Wizengamot. Lucius Malfoy was beginning to be seen as an inspiration according to the news, and other magazines were picking up on this. Lucius had a great working relationship with the Daily Prophet after he helped secure the deal with Harry Potter, and other magazines were flocking to court him in the hope of similar arrangements and exclusives.

The Minister, Cornelius Fudge, had, soon after Harry's publication, been seen as attempting to issue a new wave of reforms. Fudge was ever so weak to a headline like Harry's, not wanting to damage his public reputation too much and to be seen as blocking things. He just wanted to be re-elected, always keeping an eye on the wind of public mood and watching it shift. Fudge sought the council of Professor Quirrell. He was tasked with outlining the educational reforms necessary to "better equip the young magicians of tomorrow", as he so politically put it.

However, there was certainly unrest in government departments. There was especially strong pushback from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office. The threats to cut their budgets brought about a renewed drive and effort to make the department show they are worth the galleons. They needed to prove their worth before they were cut. This was problematic for Lucius Malfoy. Although showing the push for legalising much of the dark magical items that he kept in his house was in the public mind, getting caught with the items before they were legalised would be much too embarrassing. This would make him look like he was hiding his tracks. Plus, he may have a collection of items that were beyond the realms of being legalised just yet. This would be next on the agenda.

To Harry's surprise, none of the Professors had said anything to him about the piece he had published in the Daily Prophet. He was certainly expecting Dumbledore to haul him up to his office, but stunned silence was also fine.

In fact the first sign of trouble actually came from the biggest dunderhead in the school, Ron Weasley. It was not long before he took the attack on the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office personally. Ron's father worked in the office. It also seemed to that, with the risk of unemployment, he was not sure how his Father would be able to find another job, especially considering the fact that they wouldn't be able to find a replacement where certain dark artefacts to be legalised.

Harry was actually trying to be considerate to Ron, for once, as they were sitting and waiting for their class of Defence Against the Dark Arts to start when Quirrell showed his head. "You know Ron, your Father might have a good working knowledge of so-called dark artefacts. Perhaps he should get a job in the industry, rather than fighting people on it?"

"Are you mad?!" It took a minute after Ron's initial reaction for him to gather a complete coherent sentence together. "Dad would never want to be involved with your lot."

"My lot?" Harry asked, feigning surprise. "I can not bare claim I have dabbled in the fine art of darker heirlooms just yet."

"Liar!" Ron shouted. "You are just like the rest of them. Dad will fight this, or some day when you go too far you will all be arrested. The Weasley's will never touch dark magic!"

"Then you might want to prepare to leave my class." Professor Quirrell stated in a bored tone as he moved through the aisles, surprising everyone from the back of the room. "It seems an inevitability that the curriculum will be revamped from January classes onwards to include a broader spectrum. It is all but official, should be Educational Decree Number 10."

He stood standing from the front of the class and smiled to Harry, before picking up the facial expressions of everyone else in the room. Some of the Gryffindors in the class were looking rather nervous.

"Therefore, I shall be asking all of you to get ready to purchase another required textbook for the term commencing January. I expect the same from your Charms professor, who I will be liaising with. Hex and Curses, by Boris Black, and Battle Magic by Lutheran Blishwick. You may want to purchase them before the stores push up prices when they realise it is required text for the year. Any questions?" He asked, and a hand raised very quickly. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione had two minds to the situation. Questioning the curriculum was something she needed to do, she had read a lot about dark magic and thought only poorly of it. She felt it was elitist and practised by pureblood extremists, she was naturally excluded from the culture behind it. On the other hand, she had a natural affinity for not questioning the teacher. "Is it safe for us to practice this sir? I have read about the problematic nature of blood magic."

"Of course, I would never teach anything that would harm my students." The Professor tried to reassure her. "First years will not be covering blood magic."

This seemed to reassure Hermione greatly. She had read terrible things about how it can have long term consequences when practiced poorly, and the fact that a teacher was taking this so seriously could only be a great thing. It gave her all of the reassurance she needed.

Ron, on the other hand, protested rather loudly from the centre of the room. "First you are going after my Dad's job, and now you are turning us all into DARK WIZARDS?" He shouted directly to Harry who set a few desks away from him. The Professor did not seem too alarmed by it and was largely ignoring it. "Potter defeated You-Know-Who because he was more evil than him!"

"Sit down, Weasley." The Professor finally spoke when he realised Harry was ignoring him, and laughing to Draco about the entire situation. "You will learn a variety of different spells and incantations in this classroom, and if you choose to learn some spells and not the other that will be reflected in your grades at the end of the year. Five points from Gryffindor for shouting in my classroom."

He immediately took his seat without any further interruptions.

"Class. There is no good magic and bad magic. The quality and worth of the spell, the motives of a spell, is down to the caster - excluding unforgivable that can only be past with poor motives." He spoke with such authority, Harry could only feel trust in the words that he spoke. He grew to have a little bit more respect for the Professor, and the class listened attentively. "The problem with regulating spells is that you can never hide the knowledge, you just limit understanding of the knowledge to too few people. It is too difficult to suppress an idea, you can not un-invent. We just have to learn, live, and adapt."

Harry looked interested in this information. Tom explained much the same to him, but Harry could alway tell Tom's express interest in darker magic too. The way he was encouraging it so soon, and the methods he took to ensure that Harry was in fact able to practice. Sneaking around the corridors at night, taking from the restricted section, hiding the books he took inside other book covers. It seemed strange, unnatural, for a young mind to have to go to such extremes. Harry was starting to realise why there was such a rebellion.

It was midnight the next week before Harry attempted to do the ritual again. It was surprisingly a lot easier than the last time that he did it, he did not black out for nearly as long, he estimated. He was a quick learner, and it was coming naturally to him. He felt like he was accessing some sort of inner power that was locked inside of him. It needed to escape.

He was climbing down the main stairwell in the middle of the night, creeping slowly back down to the dormitories in the dungeons. Yet he found himself stopping outside the entrance to the forbidden third floor corridor. It was almost like the moving staircases were telling him to go there.

"One peak could never hurt," Harry said to himself, feeling his hands at the entrance door. Pushing it slightly ajar.

Tom did not say anything, he wanted to see where Harry was taking him. How far his temptations would bring him. He would never lie, Tom was curious about the third floor from the moment Dumbledore announced that it was a forbidden part of the castle. It was clearly a new announcement, the more senior students were surprised by it, and yet no excuse.

As he stepped through the door, the lights in the huge hallway lit up automatically, a warm flame on top of the pillars flickered as he approached each. There was an inconspicuous, ordinary, door at the end of the corridor that immediately caught the attention of Harry. It was the only door in the entire corridor without cobwebs on it, or was not evidently dusty. Clearly people continued to pass through this door.

He immediately moved towards it, each a quiet step in the direction of his curiosities. His heart raced with buzz and anticipation.

Locked. Shit.

He knew of the spell for unlocking the doors, yet they still had not covered it in charms. He felt it would be beyond his capabilities, and this was only confirmed when he attempted the spell. Although the curiosity was great for Tom, he knew they would be able to return in just a short couple of weeks.

"How do we get in Tom?" Harry asked himself as he pushed and banged on the door. He was met with an eery silence. "I should know the spell already!" Harry's frustration was clear, but his voice low.

After a few moments he gave one final push, before turning around. A hooded figure stood at the entrance to the other door, and Harry's heart skipped a beat, his hand reached for his wand. Harry jumped quickly away from the door as a reflex.

"Harry." A hooded voice spoke, and the figure took off the hood that was hiding his face.

"Professor Quirrell." Harry gulped, but moved his hand away from the wand in his pocket.

"You know the third floor corridor is out of bounds." He stated. It was not a question.

"Yes, Professor." Harry said pulling him together, a thousand questions roaming around in his head. He was about to explain himself, but he paused and closed his mouth before he spoke. He realised telling a lie was not the right route to go just yet, especially when he was not asked a question.

"Why should I not report you to your Head of House?" He raised his eyebrow. "Or better, the Headmaster."

Harry sweated for a moment, before realising his Slytherin cunning and composing himself better. A faint smirk appeared on his face, he did not require Tom's gallant rescue this time. Time to unleash his cunning. "Because the third floor is out of bounds, Professor, and you too are here."

"But of course, I found you coming into here, Potter, and so went to investigate." He started to pace, smiling at the game being played before him.

"With a hood on?" Harry mused in his head, making an almost pouting face. "I think maybe perhaps you are also curious as to the contents behind the door."

The Professor paused for a moment. "Oh but I know the contents behind the door, Potter. Alas, it is late and time for bed. Follow me. We shan't be disturbing the potions master tonight. There has been enough students caught recently out of beds at night, and we would rather not have you on the list."

The Professor reached a hand out to Harry, which Harry approached. The Professor placed his hand on his shoulder, and brought him out to the grand staircase. He escorted him to the dungeons, the silence between them almost unbearable. They do not need to converse, they both know what they were doing there. Well, Harry was more curious as to why the Professor was letting him off easily - or really why he was searching the corridor himself. Perhaps the Professor rewarded cunning.

"Who were you talking to?" The Professor spoke simply, as they reach the bottom of the staircase, before the stairs to the dungeons.

"I do not know what you mean, Professor." Harry lied innocently.

"I heard you talking." The Professor continued, and paused waiting for the boy to continue.

"To myself, Professor. I was frustrated I had yet to learn the unlocking spell." Harry admitted. It was partly true, which helped him lie. Harry begged that he had not heard him say the name Tom earlier. Harry supposed he had not been speaking too loudly, so may have just missed it or the context.

"Fine. Well I will leave you here." The Professor turned away before stopping and spoke with his back to Harry. "Filch is not the only person to roam the halls at night Potter, make sure and be alert to your surroundings. The walls have ears, not just I."

"Where would one find a place where walls do not have ears?" Harry asked after pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs. Maybe the wrong question to ask actually, when the walls are listening.

When he heard no answer, he turned around and found that the Professor was nowhere to be found.

Let me guess, Quirrell interrupted us. Tom spoke almost immediately after Harry found the Professor was gone, and they were in entirely different surroundings.

He found me at the locked door when I was talking to myself, what is the last thing you remember? Harry asked frankly in his head as he rushed down the stairs on his way to the portrait hiding the Slytherin Common Room.

I'm not sure. Tom said with annoyance, he didn't like this not knowing. It made him anxious. A feeling he was not used to before. There was something about this Quirrell character that had him on edge. It is not a coincidence that I am gone when he is around. Were you talking to me?

I said your name, Tom. Out loud. Harry said as he prepared himself for the wincing pain that Tom would inflict on him. Sure enough as he stepped through the Common Room door, Tom sent a surge of pain straight to his scar that made Harry collapse and cry in pain. It disturbed some of the paintings in the room.

IDIOT BOY. Tom screamed all over his brain. He lessened the pain for a moment so Harry would concentrate on his words. Never say my name again in this castle, do not even think of it. Did he hear you?

I do not know for sure. Harry internally screamed in pain as Tom jolted another lightning hit of pain into his scar. He did not mention it.

Well of course he would not you idiot. Tom groaned in displeasure and showed no mercy in bombarding the boy in more pain.

After a new moments, Harry snuck back into his dormitory. He found the other boys fast asleep in their beds. All of their bed curtains, his own included, were closed. He would keep them closed at night so that people would not be suspicious to find an empty bed - where they to awake during the night. He tip toed over to his own, pulled them back, and snuggled into bed. He was filled with exhaustion and worry. He did not have the voice of Tom tonight to make him feel better about everything, his silence said more than not.

In fact he was silent for much longer after that. Even when it was clear that his slip-up and caused no immediate problems and consequences, Tom kept silent. Silent like a predator watching his prey. It tortured Harry, and Tom knew that. His restlessness was desired. Harry knew Tom was listening, Tom was always listening.

A/N: Reviews and follows are always appreciated. Hope this intrigued you! What happens next? What exactly is Professor Quirrell doing?