"Whatever reason they have doesn't exonerate them from concealing and restricting knowledge."
The duo sit at their usual secluded table in the corner of the library. Harry brings Hermione from her deliberation by simply gesturing at the restricted section, "Why do you think the school forbids us from reading those books?"
"Because some are dark? Letting just anyone access them seems silly to me, like handing a knife to a toddler."
"True, some people don't deserve it. But for us, the top of our years? Even Head Boy or Girl aren't allowed to look at them, only a teacher's permission lets you through, even then you're restricted to what the teacher allows you." Harry explains.
"That seems... Fine to me?" she trails off unsurely.
He audibly sighs, "Yes, because you like to see the best of things. Don't forget the state of the magical world though, Hermione. You're regarded as a second-class citizen, to most of magical Britain you are akin to a black person under Jim Crow." he pauses, taking in her put-out expression, "Do you really think the bigots they hire as teachers would allow you to 'learn above your betters'?"
"Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Dumbledore, and Sprout don't seem that bad?"
Harry lets a scowl show, "Dumbledore had me left on the doorstep of my abusive relatives almost immediately after my parents died. There, they treated me like dirt, had me work constantly, beat me, and forced me to sleep in a dirty, spider-infested cupboard under the stairs!" he growls, the table shaking from his anger-fueled magic. "Don't believe the facade people put on, behind the masks they wear are monsters, people like Dumbledore don't get where they are without ruining lives."
...
"W-wouldn't that be your relative's fault...? Why would you blame Dumbledore for placing you with your family?" she questions, terribly stricken by his revelation.
He leans forwards and looks around conspiratorially, "It would, if Dumbledore hadn't threatened, hurt, and schemed against me when I tried to get help. Even an orphanage would have been a better place to live, but he didn't want me to move... He is a monster, Hermione, and don't let the twinkling eyes or 'gentle voice' trick you, he is most certainly evil."
"B-but..." she trails off, words failing her.
He chews his lip, annoyed at her insistence, "Do you want proof? I'll show you proof." he stands and after making sure no one else is around, raises his shirt to show his back.
She lets out a short gasp, eyes trailing along the many faded scars, remnants of the abuse he'd suffered at the hands of the Dursleys. From thin lines where Vernon had hit him with his belt, to splotches where his punches had actually ruptured the skin, and even burn marks where aunt Petunia threw a hot frying pan at him.
"This is Dumledore's fault..." he pauses, "And if you want to remain friends, you'll accept that. You can't trust him, and those under him are probably just as bad."
"I-I'm sorry Harry, I never thought." she cuts herself, not sure of where to even start.
He shakes his head, lowering his shirt and sitting bag down with a sigh, "I just don't want you strung along by that man and his lackeys. Do you know what he and Snape did when I first got here? They tried to break into my head with Legilimency, a school of magic that allows you to read and manipulate the mind."
She blinks, "They can do that...?"
Harry nods, "They can and will. You can avoid most subtle attempts by not looking them in the eye though, which you should probably do from now on as Dumbledore has shown he'll do anything to get to me, even if it means through other people."
He stands, "I don't need you to do anything, just think about this later. Classes are starting soon, let's clear the books up."
"Y-yes..."
---------------------------
"That was, put politely, very short-sighted of you." Quirrel remarks to Harry in their next private lesson.
"What do you mean?" Harry innocently questions.
"Poisoning your fellow students with worms. Creative, I admit, but all you've done is draw Severus' ire and Dumbledore's attention. He might be a scheming goat, but he is no fool, he won't tolerate such a blatant attack on his students, especially by one he already holds suspicions about."
Harry frowns, "You want me to lay down and take their abuse then?"
Quirrel scoffs, "Of course, I'd rather you show the cunning that befits your house. But now? I am sure they are aware who was responsible, and they will respond with more force. Were you an ordinary first year, I would honestly fear for your safety." he smiles, "I do know of a spell that would deter them, perhaps permanently if you wish to learn it?"
"I can kill them without your help." Harry retorts, "Weren't you just criticizing me for attracting attention?" he questions, wondering what Quirrel's game was.
The Professor shakes his head, "No, not kill. Indeed, the spell I wish to teach can only harm if overused. You may have heard of it, the Cruciatus Curse."
"One of the unforgivables...? You really are trying to get me in trouble, aren't you?"
"As long as you don't get caught using it you should be fine. Plus, it will keep your Housemates off of your back with a small demonstration. Power attracts, but also repels."
...
Well, no one said he had to use it. He might as well learn it now that he had a proper instructor for it. "Okay, show me how it's done then."
His smile turns sinister as Harry finishes his words, "Gladly," he points his wand at Harry, "CRUCIO!"
Harry's world turns red in a rictus of pain as he topples to the ground, squirming and spasming as his nerves, muscles, pain receptors, and anything else you can imagine light up as if he'd been set on fire.
A pain he'd never suffered before, almost as terrible as his stint in the Lich's well of magic... Maybe he should have worded his request to Quirrel differently...?