In the dimly lit third-floor corridor, Quirrell tried to steady his pounding heart as he walked toward the wooden door at the end of the hall.
The castle was eerily silent. In the darkness, the stone statues lining the corridor seemed like shadowed monsters, ready to pounce and tear apart anyone who passed.
But Quirrell felt no fear. What was there to be afraid of? The most terrifying Dark Lord, Voldemort himself, was with him. If anything, it was the monsters lurking in the shadows who should be afraid.
A Dark Lord both intelligent and brave was far more frightening than any ghost or creature.
The plan had gone perfectly. All the professors had been lured to the dungeons to deal with the troll, and the students were safely back in their common rooms under supervision. When Quirrell had opened his eyes and found himself lying alone in the Great Hall, he had nearly burst out laughing.
Everything had gone just as his master predicted. No one would disturb him now. If all went well, he would not only be able to study the protections the professors had set up but perhaps even seize the Philosopher's Stone itself.
His footsteps echoed down the corridor—quick, light, almost cheerful, as though announcing the end of his miserable predicament and the beginning of a bright new chapter.
When he reached the door, he unlocked it easily with a flick of his wand. The darkness beyond was thick, broken only by strange, intermittent noises. Quirrell hesitated for a moment, then cautiously leaned forward to peer inside.
He wasn't afraid of ghosts or monsters, but real, physical dangers were another matter—he didn't want to end up in a situation where he couldn't even run away.
At that moment, a dark figure appeared behind him.
In the empty corridor, the sudden appearance of a shadowy figure was like something out of a horror film.
Quirrell didn't even notice the presence behind him until—
"Quirinus Quirrell. So it really is you." Snape's cold, venomous voice whispered right beside his ear.
"Snape!!!" Quirrell nearly jumped out of his skin and instinctively darted into the open doorway.
"Stop!" Snape roared in fury. He'd caught Quirrell red-handed, and now the man dared to run into the room? Was he mocking him?
Snape bellowed again and charged after him.
Not far away, a third figure—Leonard, hidden by a powerful Disillusionment Charm—watched the chase unfold with a thoughtful look.
The corridor might have seemed empty, but in truth, two people had been lying in wait. Snape had arrived first, yet through Leonard's magical sight, the one concealed by the Disillusionment Charm stood out even more clearly than the one standing in plain view.
Both of them had watched as Quirrell walked right past. Leonard, ever the observer, had even seen Snape creep up behind him to give him a fright.
"So this is how he got bitten by the three-headed dog?" Leonard murmured to himself.
Back in his previous life, when he'd watched the film, Leonard had always wondered about that. Snape had clearly gone to stop Quirrell and had even reached the third-floor corridor first, with plenty of time to assess the situation—so how was it that Snape got injured, not Quirrell?
As the professor who helped design the final set of protections, Snape should've known better than anyone that the creature guarding the first trapdoor was a three-headed dog. How could he have been careless?
The answer was simple—he hadn't been careless; he'd been caught off guard. Just like now, chasing after Quirrell without a chance to react before running straight into danger.
Quirrell had Voldemort to protect him. Snape didn't. If it weren't for his skill and strength, he probably would've died in there.
Wait... Snape dying in there?
Now, that was an interesting possibility.
Leonard narrowed his eyes, a faint, calculating smile flickering across his face.
Without Snape, his time at Hogwarts would definitely be easier, wouldn't it? As for whether Snape's death might affect the events to come—Leonard couldn't care less. He'd already taken care of Draco Malfoy, who had far more presence in the story. What difference would one less Snape make?
Thinking that, Leonard couldn't wait to approach the open wooden door, planning to meddle a little.
But as soon as he got close, he saw magic as black and thick as oil swirling inside the room. A moment later came Quirrell's startled cry—and Snape's pained scream.
A bead of cold sweat slid down Leonard's forehead.
He'd almost forgotten that aside from Snape and the useless Quirrell, Voldemort was also in that room.
Now there was a real "old coin"—the true boss.
That one was far more dangerous than Quirrell. If Voldemort happened to see him trying to get Snape killed, he'd be in deep trouble.
Leonard couldn't be sure that Voldemort wouldn't notice the use of wandless, silent magic. Wizards like Voldemort and Dumbledore were beyond normal reasoning, and any sudden surge of magic could easily draw their attention.
It didn't matter if Quirrell saw him—Quirrell wouldn't live long anyway—but if Voldemort noticed... that would be a nightmare.
Leonard's wand was a replica of the Elder Wand, which made it even more noticeable. He had no intention of drawing Voldemort's eye before he'd even had the chance to grow stronger.
He wasn't Harry Potter—he didn't have Dumbledore to protect him. If Voldemort came for him, he'd be completely on his own.
"Phew... that was close." Leonard exhaled slowly, relief mixing with regret as he watched Quirrell stumble out of the room, chased by a limping Snape.
He watched the two of them disappear down the corridor—one fleeing, the other in pursuit—but just as he was about to follow, Leonard stopped.
He glanced toward the open door, quickly running through calculations in his head.
...
Without Harry Potter to interfere, the troll would still be roaming freely around Hogwarts. The professors could subdue it easily enough, but tracking it down would take time.
The portraits might help Dumbledore monitor the castle, but they weren't true surveillance. They couldn't watch everything at once, and even if they discovered something, they'd still need time to deliver the message. By the time they reached Dumbledore, the troll would've already moved on.
And to keep the students safe, the professors would likely start their search near the dungeons—around the two house common rooms.
In other words, finding the troll wouldn't be quick or easy. Which meant Leonard might have enough time to sneak a look at the Philosopher's Stone himself.
But after thinking it over, he decided against it.
He hadn't forgotten that Malfoy and his two cronies had been slaughtered in the corridor. There might not have been any portraits nearby, but with that much blood, the stench would spread for dozens of meters.
That meant the troll might be hard to find—but the crime scene definitely wouldn't be.
And what would the professors do first when they found evidence of a killing?
Without a doubt—they'd take roll call to confirm who was missing.
If Leonard wasn't in the common room when that happened, it would look very suspicious.
By his estimate, he didn't have much time left anyway.
"Forget it. There'll be other chances. I do wonder what kind of magical reaction the Philosopher's Stone gives off, though," Leonard muttered with a hint of regret, giving one last glance at the open door before quickly turning to leave.