Scar Mates

CONFRONTATIONS

The door to the classroom swung open with a bang, and a steady crush of noisy students streamed out. Some of them stopped chattering when they saw him standing there, keeping silent until they were well past him. His impatience was obvious as the last of them skittered by.

After checking to see that the corridor was empty, he stepped through the door and scanned the room, noting with satisfaction that it was empty as well, save for the teacher at the front who, his back to him, was piling papers into his bag. He watched the man for a moment, then started down the center aisle toward the man. Thus alerted to his presence, Quirrell looked up to see Snape striding toward him with a look of grim determination on his face. With a flick of his wand behind him, the door was flung shut, as were the shutters to the long windows. Quirrell took several steps backwards, pressed against the blackboard, as he watched Snape ward and raise a Silencing Charm on the room.

When the booming noise had died down, Snape twitched his hand slightly, saying, "Accio wand," catching it easily with the other hand. Almost casually, he moved to the front of the room, never once taking his eyes from the stunned teacher. Crossing his arms in front of him, a wand in each hand, he leaned back to rest against one of the front row desks. He narrowed his eyes at Quirrell, his face twisted in a scowl, as he softly commented, "Quirrell, I find it most intriguing that you have not protested the loss of your wand. That could almost be interpreted as an admission of guilt." He stood, his eyebrows raised in question, waiting for the man to respond.

Quirrell remained flat against the wall, his eyes fixed on Snape, who had already remarked that the man was once again Occuding him. With a low growl, Snape was around the podium in a flash, his hands against the wall on either side of Quirrell's head, his face only inches away. "Quirrell, first you let me take your wand, suspicious enough for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and now you're Occluding me. Neither of them the actions of a man who would protest his innocence. You are going to talk to me now, and you are not going to blither like the idiot that you are, understood?" Pushing off from the wall, in one fluid movement he pulled the chair from the teacher's desk and slammed it down in front of the man. "Sit," he commanded him.

The now trembling man hastily slid over to the chair, wringing his hands in his lap. "I... I... must protest th...this t...t...treatment, S...S...Severus. You have n...no right..."

Snape, now standing in front of the man, watched him coolly. "Oh, I have every right, Quirrell. I am here at the Headmaster's bidding." He noted with satisfaction the growing fear on the man's face. "Yes, that's right, Quirrell, the Headmaster has suspicions about you, too. Did you think we would let you get away with endangering the life of a student?" he thundered.

Quirrell sat up straighter. "I had n...n...nothing to d...d...do with that. I..."

Snape reached over to drag a stool to sit in front of the man, giving himself the subtle advantage of forcing the man to look up at him. Waving a hand to silence the man, the Potions Master drew on his skills as an interrogator. "Quirrell. Let's start at the beginning, shall we? Where did you go on holiday this past summer?"

A look of confusion passed over the man's face. This was not the question that he was expecting. When he hesitated, Snape prompted him. "This is not a difficult question. And before you answer, may I suggest that I might already know the answer? Not a trick question, Quirrell, so answer me."

"The C...C...Continent. Italy, G...Greece, Albania," he stuttered out.

Snape considered him. "Very good, Quirrell. Let's try another. Why those particular places?"

"I h...h...have family in T...Tirane."

Snape nodded. "Two for two, Quirrell. So this was a pleasure trip then? No business on the side? Quirrell shook his head emphatically, but would not meet his eyes, Snape noticed. "And the turban?" He slid off the stool, stepping closer to examine it.

"M...m...my family is M...M...Muslim," he offered weakly.

One of Snape's eyebrows shot up as he eyed the head dressing suspiciously. "Ah, getting back to your roots you mean, finding religion?" When Quirrell nodded, he stepped out in front of him. Crossing his arms, he made the man wait for the next question. "The Stone, Quirrell. Surely you know how stupid," he spat out the last word, "it would be to try to appropriate it for yourself?" He leaned in closer towards the man. "Or for another? You know the Headmaster would decimate anyone who would be foolish enough to even try."

Quirrell had stopped trembling, but was watching him warily.

It's so very telling that he is not defending his innocence. And not yielding any information either.

"The Stone is secure. You know what wards it, you fool. I caution you strongly to take that under advisement. Are we understood?" Quirrell, still watching him, gave no outward indication that he did.

Snape kicked the stool to the side, causing the seated man to startle.

"Stand up, Quirrell." As the man stood, Snape moved swiftly, grabbing the front of his robes in one hand, dragging him up to stand on his toes. With his other hand, he placed the tip of his wand alongside the man's throat. "The other matter, the Dark Magic that you threatened the boy with will...not...be...tolerated. I have no evidence against you, as it was wandless. But I know it was you, Quirrell. I don't know why you did it. But hear me well. If you attempt anything...anything," he jerked the man upwards, "that I perceive as a threat to the boy, I will kill you. Do you understand?"

He let go, pulling back suddenly from the man, leaving him to struggle to regain his footing. Snape watched him with disgust. Facing each other now, Snape asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Any questions, concerns, protestations of innocence? Hmm? I thought not. Your silence and Occulding convict you."

Without a backward glance, he strode towards the door, unwarding as he went. Reaching the back of the room, he paused long enough to say, "The Headmaster will see you as soon as you have pulled yourself together. He will return your wand. Class dismissed."

He sat in front of the Headmaster's fire, this time not deprived of a brandy. "He didn't give anything up, Albus. But he acts so damn guilty, because he is. His story does check out, however. He does have family in Tirane."

Dumbldore, sipping his tea, nodded thoughtfully. "Albania has an old wizarding community, mostly in Tirane. I've always thought it an odd marriage, wizardry and Islam. Perhaps the turban is a symbol of new found convictions."

Snape snorted into his brandy. "Would that the answer were that simple. More likely, he purposes some monetary gain out of it. He's not wealthy, you know."

Dumbledore sighed. "Not destitute, either. Let's hope we've scared some sense into him." He frowned into his cup. "We're still in the dark as to why he'd try to harm Harry." Setting his cup aside, he walked over to an armoire. "Speaking of Harry, I wanted to show you something." Pulling a box out, he walked back to sit down beside Snape. He opened the box, and pulled out the cloth within, swirling it over his lap for the other man to see.

"Albus? What in Merlin..?" His voice trailed off as he realized what he was seeing.

"An invisibility cloak. James Potter's to be precise. I took a trip to my cottage to retrieve it. James entrusted to my shortly before his death."

Snape fingered the fabric in wonder. "They're very rare. I'm surprised that James even had one." His face darkened as he considered the ramifications of this revelation. It would explain some things that happened during our school years. I'm sure he and his friends used it to full advantage.

The Headmaster broke into his musings. "I intend to give it to Harry at Christmas."

Snape reacted immediately. "You can't be serious, Albus. He's eleven. And a Gryffindor. And a Potter. It's an invitation to abuse every bloody school rule when the whim strikes him. You can't be serious," he repeated, settling back into his chair in disbelief.

Dumbledore replaced the lid on the box, then turned to his disgruntled Potions Master.

"Severus," he rebuked gently, "Harry not only lost his parents, but he has not one, single possession that belonged to them. Had James lived, he would have given this to his son. Perhaps not at this early age," he admitted, "but it would have eventually come to him. I cannot withhold this treasure, especially when he has not one thing as a remembrance. I cannot deny him this."

Snape shook his head. "No good will come of this. The temptation to run amuck will prove too great."

The Headmaster chuckled. "If you catch him at it, Severus, by all means, discipline him if you find that he has misused it," he teased.

Snape was still incredulous, shaking his head at the old man's apparent lapse of judgment.

Dumbledore's tone sobered suddenly, causing Snape to glance at him sharply. "Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. I know that I told you to treat him as any other first year, Severus, and so you should. But in some respects, his is not ordinary, nor can we afford to treat him as such." He paused, a far away look in his eyes. "There are some things about the boy that you do not know, Severus, in fact, that only I know. It is why, in part, I am willing to give him his father's cloak. He will always merit special consideration, but not only because of his celebrity."

Snape looked perplexed. Speak English, old man.

"I cannot be more specific at this time. There will come a time, however, when all will be made clear, I promise you. Trust me, Severus, as you always have. In the meantime, I need your help," he said imploringly.

Nodding his head, Snape murmured, "Anything, sir. You know that."

There was a glint in the blue eyes. "I need you to protect the boy while he is here, Severus. It's that simple. I do not know what kind of dangers he may face, but it appears that the first one has already presented itself, and you saved him from it. For that I am immensely grateful. I suspect there will be more. It is perhaps unfair to ask suck a thing of you without further explanation, but so it must be for now."

Snape nodded. "Of course, Headmaster. You know I trust your timing."

Dumbledore patted him on the hand, just as a knock sounded at the door. Grinning at the Potions Master, he remarked with humor, "That would be Professor Quirrell looking for his wand."

After checking on the Seven-fold Grid, Snape swept down to his dungeon rooms. So, there's more to The-Boy-Who-Lived than meets the eye. As if I didn't bloody well know it.