After leaving the Forbidden Forest, Professor Snape returned to the castle. He walked briskly through the corridors adorned with dragonfly portraits, heading straight to the Headmaster's office. Though he had long suspected that Quirrell was hiding something, he hadn't imagined the truth—that Quirrell was possessed by Lord Voldemort himself.
Snape speculated that Quirrell's consciousness had likely been completely erased. After all, Lord Voldemort wouldn't have openly revealed himself unless he had full control. Snape had never truly believed that the Dark Lord trusted him; this sudden disclosure seemed more like a move born out of necessity.
He needed to inform Dumbledore immediately.
Meanwhile, Harry Potter was soaring through the night sky on his Nimbus 2000, returning to the broom shed. The cold wind howled around him, and his heart pounded with an intensity he'd rarely experienced. Just minutes earlier, he had overheard a tense conversation between Professor Snape and Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest. Though he only caught fragments, what he heard was enough to shake him.
For one, Snape had addressed Quirrell as "Master."
That alone was shocking. Snape, who always carried himself with arrogance and superiority, submitting to someone like Quirrell? Something was definitely wrong. From the snippets of conversation he caught, Harry deduced that Lord Voldemort and Quirrell were conspiring to steal the Philosopher's Stone.
Rushing back to the Gryffindor common room, Harry had to quickly brush off his classmates' celebration of their Quidditch victory. Pulling Hermione and Ron aside into a quiet corner, he revealed what he had overheard.
"What's going on?" asked Ron, still smiling from the match. "Did you come up with a new way to humiliate Malfoy tomorrow?"
Harry shook his head, serious. "No time for that now. Quirrell and Snape are planning to steal the Philosopher's Stone. I overheard them talking in the Forbidden Forest. Quirrell was asking Snape to help him get past Fluffy."
"The Forbidden Forest?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows. She hugged a thick book close to her chest. "What were you doing there?"
"That's not important," Harry replied. "What matters is why the two of them want the Philosopher's Stone. And why Snape is working with Quirrell."
"Well, who wouldn't want it?" Ron said, stuffing a biscuit into his mouth. "Gold and eternal life? I'd take it if I could."
"But they're professors!" Hermione argued.
Ron scoffed. "Maybe Dumbledore won't give them the Stone, so now they're trying to steal it. Snape does seem like the type."
Harry's earlier assumptions began to crumble. Maybe the enchantments on the fourth floor weren't just challenges set by the professors. Maybe they were real protections—meant to keep the Stone safe from people like Snape and Quirrell.
Hermione closed her book and leaned in. "Do you want to stop them from stealing the Philosopher's Stone? Or are you trying to get it first?"
"Neither," Harry said slowly. "I just… I just realized it doesn't really matter if they get the Stone. It has nothing to do with me, right?"
But he didn't believe his own words. Deep down, he knew it did matter.
"The Philosopher's Stone is a legendary magical item," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I read a lot about it in the library. It creates gold and can produce the Elixir of Life. But there might be other uses, too."
"Then Snape's definitely planning to do something evil with it," Harry concluded.
The trio spent the rest of the evening speculating about Snape's motives.
The next morning, Harry sat at breakfast, distracted. Ron nudged his arm.
"Still thinking about the Philosopher's Stone?"
Harry nodded, then suddenly turned to Hermione. "Do you remember what kind of books Professor Weasley kept on his shelf?"
Hermione tapped her chin. "Hmm… A cookbook, a book about Nicolas Flamel… and something on alchemy…"
"Wait!" she exclaimed. "Are you saying Professor Weasley is also interested in the Philosopher's Stone?"
"I think so," Harry replied.
Ron shrugged. "Seems like everyone's after it—Snape, Quirrell, and now Weasley. Looks like we don't stand a chance."
Hermione ignored him and looked at Harry. "So, what now?"
After a pause, Harry leaned in and whispered, "Let's tell Professor Weasley about Snape and Quirrell's plot. I'd rather he gets the Stone than them."
Hermione agreed, and even Ron offered no objections.
"Let's go," Harry said, pushing back his chair. "If he's not in the dining hall, he's probably in his office."
While the trio hurried off, Professor Snape sat in his usual seat at the staff table, glaring at Harry. But his mind wasn't focused on the boy. His thoughts were still consumed by last night's revelation.
He had reported everything to Dumbledore—the return of the Dark Lord, Quirrell's possession—but Dumbledore had simply told him to observe and wait. Snape was furious.
Why would Dumbledore allow Lord Voldemort to remain within Hogwarts, even in such a weakened form? Sure, the Dark Lord couldn't do much right now, barely able to control a three-headed dog like Fluffy. But it was still him—the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time.
The only silver lining was that Voldemort still seemed to trust him. As long as Snape played his part well, he could monitor the situation closely and protect the students—especially Harry.
Still, he couldn't shake the anger. What was Dumbledore thinking?
Meanwhile, Harry and his friends had reached the door of Professor Weasley's office. Harry stepped forward, ready to knock, but stopped when words appeared on the wooden surface:
"Please knock, thank you."
Obediently, Harry knocked twice. The three of them waited in silence for about thirty seconds—no answer.
Harry was about to suggest leaving when Ron tapped his shoulder and pointed. The words on the door had changed:
"If you are Harry Potter, please come in."
"Looks like Professor Weasley really likes you," Hermione whispered.
Harry shrugged, pushed open the door, and led the way into the office.
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