OLD MAGIC

Chapter 12: What's up with Professor Quirrell?

Astronomy class was interesting but hard to pay attention to after such a long day. When they were released it was moving past one in the morning. By the time they readied themselves for bed it was one-thirty.

Harry was so tired he forgot he needed to speak with Professor Snape. He simply slid gratefully into his soft bed and was quickly asleep.

Meanwhile in the dungeon, Snape eyed the old clock on his mantle with a tired sigh. It was a quarter of two...obviously Harry had forgotten their original appointment but he could hardly blame the child after all he'd been through this night. He would make an effort to pull Harry aside later today and find out what had been so important.

He yawned, finished his glass of wine he'd been drinking while he waited then rose and made for his own comfortable bed.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

The day went fairly well to Harry's mind as he and his new friends made their way to their Defense Against the Dark Art's class. No one had hassled him and though he knew he was under close observation by the Order, he felt safe enough to relax and just enjoy being a student just like everyone else.

The only irritant were the students that hero worshiped him. Now that was annoying. He was very grateful that Hermione and Ron were willing to act as buffers for him. Ron's methods were rather rude (pushing people away and calling them names) while Hermione's sharp tongue sometimes shamed the person to leave. Unfortunately, there were still the die hard hangers-on that just didn't get the message.

A particularly annoying flea was a little shaver known as Colin Creevy whose passion for photography made him a right nuisance with his need to capture every event on film. Harry never knew when the little blighter would appear and flash him in the face. So far, Creevy had taken no less than six photos since this morning at breakfast. Fortunately, he wasn't in any of Harry's classes.

His good mood evaporated the instant he stepped foot into the Dark Arts classroom. Just as before, a taint of evil permeated the air. Looking around he didn't see Professor Quirrell as yet but knew the man was the source. Now that he thought about it, he wondered why the castle spirit hadn't felt it as well and expelled it from the Hogwarts by now?

He'd met the castle spirit when a light feathery touch tapped against his shields the moment he'd crossed the threshold of Hogwarts. At the time, so much was going on he dismissed the touch but that night in his sleep, the spirit had made itself known to him. It welcomed him and promised to aid him should he need it.

Harry had felt awe that such an old spirit would be willing to talk to a lowly student like himself. It was a little frightening too considering how much magic Hogwarts held but he thanked it for its thoughtfulness. Nothing like another layer of protection, he'd thought at the time.

Anyway, as everyone took a seat, it was then Professor Quirrell entered the room. The evil reached out and made his scar burn with pain. He was quick to smother the sudden gasp he might have released at that sudden discomfort. His eyes narrowed as he tried to not reach up and rub his head, watching the Dark Arts Professor go to his desk and prepare for the day's lessons.

He roundly cursed himself. This was what he had wanted to speak to Professor Snape about last night and had forgotten. And now he knew why the castle hadn't detected the evil. It was hidden by the thin layer of a pure soul. Beneath that was a solid core of evil that fully engulfed the thin, nervous professor's body. Harry was hard put to hold onto his calm, disinterested expression, covering his consternation at his discovery by pulling out his paper, quill, and DA book.

The poor man was possessed! He thought, horrified. The castle cannot sense it because of that thin, barely intact layer of what was left of the man's soul.

Suddenly, the pain soared for no discernable reason. Quirrell wasn't looking at him as he told them the days lesson in that stuttering speech of his. Apparently his discomfort was plainly visible because Ron leaned close and whispered to him.

"Are you alright, mate?" he asked softly.

"Uh...just a headache, no worries," Harry managed to say, his voice tight.

Ron looked doubtful but didn't press him, returning his attention to the front of the classroom.

Harry pressed his hand against the scar while his eyes squinted up at the teacher. Quirrell wasn't looking at him as he was writing something on the chalkboard yet Harry couldn't shake the sensation that eyes were staring at him intensely, attempting to bore their way past his shields.

However, those shields were strong and resisted the intrusion firmly but not without giving poor Harry a giant headache while the battle was going on. It seemed like forever but was actually only minutes when the pressure ceased and class went on as if nothing had happened. And to the students nothing had. Quirrell acted as if nothing had happened either as he faced about and answered someone's question, but Harry couldn't make out what he was saying through the fierce aching of his head.

He'd never been soo glad when class was over and he could escape. He grabbed his books and slipped away before his friends realized he'd gone. Hurrying through the crowds of students he headed for the dungeons.

It was fortunate their next class was potions as he really needed to see Professor Snape before class began. His headache made his stomach ill and he could barely see where he was going but somehow he managed to reach the potion's classroom ahead of everyone.

Professor Snape wasn't in the room but Harry knew he was around and opened his shield just enough to call for help before shutting them tightly again. Only seconds later, Snape hurried into the room from a side door and rushed to Harry's side.

"What's the matter? You're white as a sheet," he asked, quickly.

"Uhh...headache...fierce...God it hurts...scar..." Harry stuttered, collapsing in a seat so he could lean down and hold his head with both palms.

Saying nothing more, Snape hurried to a cabinet and removed a bottle from it. Going to another cabinet he retrieved a tinier bottle and a glass. From the larger bottle he poured a greenish liquid into the glass to about halfway. Stoppering the bottle again, he opened the tiny bottle and carefully tapped three drops into the glass. Instantly, the mixture turned blue. Quickly, he hurried back to Harry and urged the suffering boy to drink the potion.

Harry did as ordered. His eyes nearly bugged from his face and he nearly spat the horrid stuff out but did manage to down it all.

"Oh! Gah! That's nasty!" He gasped.

A small twist of a smile pulled at Snape's mouth. "None of my potions taste nice but they do work. How do you feel now?"

Harry blinked. His mouth tasted rather like an ash tray now but his head... "wow, it's gone...the pain is gone...that's bloody amazing!" He said, grinning then grimacing. "Oy, you think you can give me something to take that gross taste away?" He begged.

Snape smile in amusement, turned with a swirl of his robes back to where he'd left the bottles. He picked them up and put them away then fetched something that looked like a wafer and brought it back to Harry.

While Harry put that in his mouth, Snape walked briskly out of the room and back into the side door he'd come through. Puzzled at his sudden departure, Harry was about to get up and follow when he heard the sounds of students arriving.

Ah, that's why he left, Harry realized. Well at least my head feels so much better and the cookie or whatever it is got rid of that awful taste.

"Oy! Harry! Where the heck did you get off to? One would think you were in a hurry to get in this dreadful class," Ron asked, dropping his book to the desk and eyeing his friend in puzzlement.

"Yes, Harry. We were rather concerned when you disappeared like that. Ron said you didn't seem well," Hermione said, setting her stuff on her desk a little ways away.

"I did have a headache and the noise from everyone was making it worse. I'd hoped Professor Snape would take pity on me and give me something for it."

"You asked him? And did he give you something because you seem okay now?" Ron asked, studying his friend's face closely.

"Yes, but the cure was almost worse than the problem," Harry said, making a face.

"None of his potions taste good but apparently work really well or so I heard," Hermione said. "Guess its true as you seem fine now."

"Granger...Weasley...if you will take you seats we might be able to get class started," Snape's voice startled them, his manner cold and annoyed.

The two quickly took their seats, faces red. Harry smirked inside. Snape liked doing that far too much, he thought, then focused on the day's lesson.

When class ended with Snape giving them over two feet of homework to do, Harry quickly sent an urgent call to Snape.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I still need to speak to you about a very serious problem with Professor Quirrell. It's urgent. When can we meet or should I just give you a quick report now?"

"Quirrell? I don't have time later. Though I don't like it, better give me what has you concerned."

"Right! The professor is possessed. Very little of his soul remains but enough is there to form a thin skin around the evil that has taken over which is why the castle spirit didn't detect it."

Snape didn't say anything at first, too shocked by the news to respond. Meanwhile, Harry was on his way to his next class. It made him nervous to have his barrier down this long.

"Professor?"

"Sorry, the news was upsetting. I'll look into it. Don't touch him or be alone with him for any reason, understood?"

"Of course, sir. However, I think you need to get with Hagrid about this immediately."

"Hmm, yes...you're right. Go focus on class and leave this up to me."

"Alright, sir." Harry quickly shut his shields but wasn't completely happy about Snape's decision. He felt he should do something about poor Quirrell's situation himself. This would require some deep thinking but he would need time alone. It wouldn't be easy but he would have to shake his friends again. They would just have to get used to him doing that from time to time. He should speak to Hagrid as well but knew he couldn't be seen going to the man's cabin so he'd send Wine out with a message tonight.

Later at dinner, he was feeling anxious. Professor Quirrell wasn't seated at the teacher's table. That didn't bode well. Where was he and what was he doing right now? He rushed through his meal and it wasn't easy shaking his friends but he finally managed it.

Letting them think he'd gone to the library, he headed to his bed instead and there he waited for Wine to show. Thankfully, the kneazle didn't take long to appear.

"Good evening, Wine. I have some urgent business for you tonight. Here's some food I saved you." He placed a napkin on the bed and opened it. "Tonight was chicken."

Wine mewed with delight and attacked the food. Harry waited politely until his friend was finished. Pleasantly stuffed, Wine rubbed himself against the boy's knees in thanks.

"You're welcome. Now, here's a message I want you to take to Hagrid," Harry put a ribbon with a message tied in it around Wine's neck. "Also, I would like you to see if you can find out what Professor Quirrell is doing as he wasn't at dinner tonight. The poor man is possessed."

Wine gave Harry a grave look. He mewed and nodded.

"Oh, you know about that already, eh?"

Wine nodded again.

"Okay, then you tell Hagrid what you've found out and thank you."

Rubbing against Harry's knee again, Wine mewed softly then jumped down off the bed, turning invisible as soon as he landed on the floor.

Harry sighed. There was nothing more he could do now but get his homework done. He reached for his bag and dragged out his quill and paper. If he was lucky, it would only take him three hours to finish.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Wine moved with ease along the wall as students passed by. He reached the main doors just before they were being closed by Filch. Mrs. Norris, his cat, froze and stared at Wine who gave her a rather smug look then ignored her as he slipped through the doors and out. Mrs. Norris hated the little creature but knew instinctively that the kneazle was not to be trifled with if she wanted to stay alive.

The night was fair and only moderately cool. No one bothered Wine as he trotted along toward the Grounds keeper's cabin. Reaching Hagrid's home, he realized the half giant wasn't home at the moment as he caught a fresh scent leading away from the cabin and into the nearby woods.

He sat on the porch and gave a loud cry. After a long moment, a strange hooting cry answered him. Nodding to himself, he settled down to bath himself. Hagid knew he was waiting and would be back presently.