And then, Severus smelled smoke.
Fire!?
Quirinus Quirrell lurched against him from behind, screeching about being on fire, of all things. As Severus fought to regain his balance, he lost sight of Harry for a mere second, the space of a heartbeat, or as long as it would take for his to stop completely. When he was upright again, he looked to the sky, fearing the worst.
Instead of being quite dead, the imp hurtled toward the ground, right side up finally, on a broom completely under his control, and nearly went for a tumble a few feet above the earth. He clapped his hand over his mouth as if he were going to be sick, and when he hit the ground, he landed on all fours. He coughed -- rather inelegantly, truth be told -- and out of the Brat Who Lived to Give Severus Heart Failure's mouth popped the little golden Snitch.
Merlin's Balls.
Severus' scowl was just this side of a smirk, in light of Slytherin's victory. The boy couldn't even play a simple game of Quidditch without making a spectacle of himself.
But at least he wasn't dead.
And Severus had yet another piece of damning evidence to stack against one stuttering, blundering DADA professor.
If only Dumbledore would listen this time.
TBC . . .
A/N: The four paragraphs (mostly dialogue) just before the () were lifted in their entirety from The Philosopher's Stone.
Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews! Hope this chapter makes y'all happy; hated to leave you in the lurch, cliffie-wise. Peppermint mochas (or eggnog, if you're not a caffeineaholic like me) all around!
*Chapter 33*: Chapter 33
Better Be Slytherin! – Chapter 33
By jharad17
Disclaimer: Waaaah! None of this is mine!
Warning: for language and innuendo
Previously:
And then, Severus smelled smoke.
Fire!?
Quirinus Quirrell lurched against him from behind, screeching about being on fire, of all things.
"You set Professor Quirrell on fire?!" Harry all but shrieked. They were in the common room, at their favorite table for studying quietly, but the room was so full of celebrating Slytherins, you could not have heard an erumpent trumpet its horn.
"Shush," Teddy said anyway, at the same time as Millicent shrugged, not looking at all apologetic.
"Could have been worse," she said. "I could have lit his head on fire. That smelly turban desperately deserves it, too." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Besides, it got him to stop cursing your broom, didn't it?"
"Yeah . . . But, are you sure it was him?"
Teddy rolled his eyes. "'Course it was. First of all, he's been trying to kill you all year, hasn't he? And also, he was staring right at you, without blinking. In order to carry out a sustained hex like that, you have to maintain eye contact. Uninterrupted. No blinking, no sneezing, no bending over to put out the flames on your robes."
Harry couldn't help it; he snickered. Though, when he'd been over a hundred feet in the air, his out of control broom had been anything but funny. Catching the Snitch, though, and winning the game . . . that had been the best feeling ever!
"I still can't believe they're not doing anything about him!" Millie growled.
"What do you mean?"
Teddy gave Millicent a sharp look before shrugging. "We saw Professor Snape talking with the Headmaster as everyone was leaving the stadium. The Professor looked furious, all pale except his lips which were white, he had them pressed so hard. You know The Look?"
Harry nodded dumbly, eyes wide. He'd seen that Look a couple of times. It usually heralded detention, and a raging dressing down.
"Yeah, well, I think he was angry with the Headmaster this time. I couldn't hear everything they said, but our Head of House was talking about Quirrell and how you'd almost died again and how the Headmaster better tighten up security, both on you and the you-know-what."
Huh? "What's a 'you-know-what'?"
"Damned if I know. Something they're trying to keep secret, anyway. And well-guarded." Teddy got a sly look and glanced around them to make sure none of their House mates had moved closer; they hadn't, the nearest ones were laughing their heads off a few strides away and couldn't have heard anything over the noise in the room. Even so, he lowered his voice, though not to a whisper. "Do you know why we're not allowed on the third floor corridor?"
"Peeves?" Harry guessed.
Teddy shook his head. "Cerberus."
"Serba-who?"
"Cerberus. A hell hound. Three heads, big teeth, nasty disposition."
Harry gaped at him. "A hell hound."
Teddy nodded.
"In the school."
Another nod.
"Why?"
"That's a good question. I think it's guarding something."
"Guarding what?"
Teddy wrinkled his nose a bit and sighed. "I don't know. But whatever it is -- and Hagrid, you know, the gamekeeper? He called it 'you-know-what' earlier today. Whatever it is, if the Headmaster wants it safe as much as he wants to protect you, then I imagine it's pretty important." He paused. "But the Professor was rather put out about Dumbledore being more interested in protecting the you-know-what than you."
Harry shook his head. It was too much. A three-headed hell hound was protecting something on the third floor, and the Headmaster was being less than helpful when it came to protecting Harry from the broom-cursing, murderous Quirrell.
"How d'you all this?" Harry asked, it being the only question he could wrap his mind around at the moment.
"He's very sneaky," Millicent said. "Sneakier than my big brother, and that's saying something." Teddy gave her a bland smile, and she continued, "And he eavesdrops."
"Give away all my secrets, why don't you."
"Right," Millie huffed. "As if you aren't gloating right now 'cause you know things no one else does."
"You know . . ." Harry said quietly, "I bet that's why Snape was limping."
"What?" asked Millie.
"When?" asked Teddy.
"Recently," Harry answered. "I really saw he was hurt on, um, Monday night," he didn't tell them about his trip to the owlery or the pictures Snape had shared; it was too personal. "But I think he'd been that way since Halloween."
"He didn't get hurt by the troll," Millicent pointed out. "No one did, not even Quirrell."
"No," Harry agreed. "But what if he had to check up on the cerberus?"
Millie rolled her eyes. "Why would anyone 'check up' on a three-headed hell hound?"
"Because they needed to make sure what whatever it's protecting is safe."
Harry nodded at Teddy. "And the troll . . ."
"Was just a distraction. So Quirrell could get his hands on whatever is being safeguarded, while the professors were all off chasing the troll."
"What are you two going on about?" Millicent crossed her arms over her chest. "Is this some sort of conspiracy theory?"
Harry was going to ask what she meant by that when a group of fourth and fifth years crowded the table, congratulating Harry on his first Quidditch win.
"Glad you didn't swallow, kid," said a boy who Harry didn't know, except that he was a fifth year. "Spittin's way better . . ." He smirked. "For Snitches, anyway."
"Shut up, Gaius," said a girl as she punched Gaius' arm. "Honestly. He's only eleven." The others Slytherins around them were laughing, though, and Harry smiled a little. The alternative was to appear stupid in front of older -- and much bigger -- students.
Gaius slung an arm around Harry's shoulders and squeezed the far one while he hugged Harry's body to his side. Harry managed -- barely -- not to twist away, but he did become very still. "Potter's cool with it, Darcy. He knows what's what. Doncha, kid?"