BLACK {1} harry potter

Chapter Twenty

It wasn't Snape,—as I'd always known deep down—but it wasn't even Voldemort, who we'd feared the worst. In fact, it was someone we'd never even considered. The pale skin and young face was painfully familiar, but the cold smirk on his face was not.

Professor Quirrell stood in front of us, no twitching eye or fearful expression on his face.

I gasped, eyes going wide in disbelief. Harry's grip on my hand stayed steady. Granted, I'd always felt it wasn't Snape, I had never expected this.

"You," Harry choked.

"Me," Quirrell nodded calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter." He glanced towards me as if I were a speck of dirt. "Black."

"But I thought—Snape. . ."

"Severus?" Professor Quirrell laughed, the sound sharp and cruel to my ears. It replaced his usual stuttering giggle, and made my skin crawl. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

"But Snape tried to kill us," Harry denied.

I had to admit I had a hard time believing this, too. It was Quirrell. Then again, the Quirrell in front of me hadn't been the Quirrell I'd known as a professor.

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a counter-curse, trying to save you."

"Snape was trying to save us—me," Harry reeled at the revelation.

I huffed, "I hate to say it, but I told you so."

"Yes," Quirrell kept that strange smile. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really. . .he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning. He did make himself unpopular, and what a waste of time. After all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."

With Dumbledore watching. . .why did someone being afraid of Dumbledore sound familiar and make a chill sweep down my spine? Without anymore explanation Quirrell waved his wand and long ropes appeared out of thin air, wrapping around us tightly like a constricting snake.

I gulped, trying to tug myself free, "Kill us?" The ropes dug in every area they were set, and with each movement it seemed they became tighter.

"You're too nosy to live, Black, and Potter too dangerously determined. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that; for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in," I questioned. Had he faked fainting as well?

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls—"

"Similar intellect, huh," I muttered under my breath. I gasped as the ropes became almost unbearably tight, the tendrils rubbing against my skin and aggravating it within seconds. "Just joking," I rasped.