Harry watched as Madam Pomfrey walked out of the office, he was wondering what to do next, he had not intended to say anything about Snape, but once the incident with Malfoy had escalated, Harry after eighty years as headmaster of Hogwarts in his other reality he had decided he would take none of the previous bad attitude from the potions professor.
Dumbledore was sitting listening to McGonagall who was still angry and wanting to know what was going to be done with Snape. It seemed to Harry that both professors' had overlooked the fact that the castle itself would no longer support Snape, and without the help of the actual building any teacher would find things difficult, Snape would not last long, he felt sure about it. For now though Harry was faced with a much bigger problem, he was thinking hard about Quirrell and how to bring about his downfall without having to go through all the same things they went through before, for a start he no longer had Weasley to get them past the enchanted giant chess set and he himself was still not to good at the game.
Harry sat next to Hermione and thought about Quirrell, recalling all he could about the man; he was a professor that most definitely should not be teaching at Hogwarts. Harry's problem was, if he could think of nothing himself then how was he to tell the headmaster what he knew, after all he could hardly say to him, a hundred odd years ago I encountered Quirrell, who just happened to have Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head hidden by that ridicules turban. He was still stuck for away around the problem when he was saved by Hermione.
"Professor Dumbledore sir, what would you do if you were a student and you suspected that Voldemort was in the castle, would you tell someone or would you try to deal with it your self?" she suddenly asked without warning.
Dumbledore looked at Hermione as though she had just thrown a glass of ice cold water in his face, "I take it you have a reason for asking such an odd question Mrs Potter?" he said staring at her.
Hermione shifted a little uncomfortably in her chair looking at Harry, before Harry said, quietly continuing where Hermione left off. "When we arrived at the castle, something odd happened, I could almost hear the castle, but it was more a feeling really, its hard to describe, but what I do know is that there is a professor Quirrell in the castle and Voldemort is using him, something under his turban is possessing him I suppose you would call it." Harry hoped he would have to lie no further, he remembered Snape was suspicious of Quirrell and hoped that and his own revelation would be sufficient for them to take some action.
Dumbledore and Snape acted almost as one, "I will relay the message that you wish to speak to Quirrell and return with him," Snape said before Dumbledore had spoken, it quite surprised Harry for a while then he remembered that both the professors were proficient at both legilimens and Occlumens.
"Sir, shall I take Hermione back to the common room," Harry asked wanting her out of harms way.
"Yes, yes, off you go," Dumbledore said ushering them out of the door with professor Snape.
Half way down the stairs Snape said "Mr Potter I apologise for jumping to conclusions, I was wrong."
Before Harry could wrap his mind around Snape admitting to how he was wrong, and also apologising the professor had rushed off. Harry stood on the step wondering if maybe the explosion at the ministry had done more harm than he thought, 'maybe I bumped my head and all this is just some fantastic dream.
Hermione had been deep in thought about the implications of Voldemort being within the castle walls, she could see just how dangerous that was, even though she had never heard of the madman till just a few very short weeks ago. She caught the end of Harry's thoughts about it all being a dream, "I don't think both of us bumped our heads Harry, I heard what the professor said, I don't really know him but it did seem to be out of character from what I have seen."
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One Hundred And Forty Nearly Twelve (Completed)
Fanfiction142 years of aged Harry, goes back in time in the past, to become eleven once again.