"I never anticipated that the traitor back then would turn out to be Peter Pettigrew," Dumbledore mused, his twinkling eyes fixed on Snape, who was visibly seething with anger. The headmaster's office was bathed in a soft, warm light, contrasting with the storm of emotions in the room.
"Calm down, Severus," the headmaster advised in a soothing tone. "We can't ascertain the truth of this matter!" Dumbledore's voice was a soothing balm for Snape's turbulent thoughts.
Severus Snape stared at the wise old man before him, battling to suppress the furious storm brewing in his chest. He had once believed Sirius to be the culprit, until Sirius found himself imprisoned in Azkaban. Nine long years had passed, and Snape had managed to quell much of the bitterness he held for Sirius.
But now, with Quirrell's shocking revelation, a glimmer of hope ignited within Snape's heart. If Quirrell spoke the truth, it meant that the actual traitor was still at large, and Sirius had been unjustly blamed for nearly a decade.
"Severus, don't forget that Quirrell and Voldemort are in league!" Dumbledore reminded him, his voice filled with wisdom and caution.
"If Peter Pettigrew were a Death Eater, do you believe he would have done something like this?" Dumbledore's eyes met Snape's, and the two shared a moment of contemplation. Dumbledore had met Peter Pettigrew during his time in the Order of the Phoenix, and the timid, unassuming boy before him hardly seemed like a Gryffindor.
Even Snape himself couldn't fathom how Peter Pettigrew had summoned the courage to confront Voldemort, let alone betray his friends. It all seemed too incongruous.
His racing thoughts gradually subsided, and a sense of rationality returned.
Quirrell's words couldn't be taken at face value, and according to Filch, Quirrell had been alone in the room at the time. So, where could Peter Pettigrew have disappeared to? No one had an answer, not even Quirrell.
"I'll personally get to the bottom of this," Snape declared, his gaze fixed firmly on Dumbledore with an intense, resolute look in his dark eyes. "If it turns out to be Peter Pettigrew, I'll deal with him myself!" His words were a vow, and his exit from the headmaster's office was marked by a sense of purpose.
"What's gotten into him?" one portrait inquired, puzzled by Snape's demeanor, while another lamented, "Dumbledore, I never expected such a turn of events under your watch!"
"I always said that Tom Riddle was a true Slytherin!" added a third. "Salazar's legacy lives on!" The portraits continued to chatter amongst themselves, but Dumbledore paid them little heed. His wise eyes gazed out the window at the moonlit night, his thoughts focused on Quirrell and the hope that this revelation might clear Sirius Black's name after nine long years.
Snape navigated the dim, winding stairs alone, his mind was razor-sharp. He was determined to confront Quirrell and dig for the truth. The anger that had consumed him had now given way to a sense of purpose.
As he considered his conversation with Quirrell, it became evident that he was hiding something, but Snape couldn't quite put his finger on it. Was this part of Voldemort's grand scheme? Snape wondered in silent contemplation, ready to delve into the mysteries that lay ahead.
.....
With his eyes wide open, Luke glanced at the two slumbering wizards sprawled on the plush carpet and suddenly smacked his forehead in realization. As he had returned the previous day, he had completely forgotten to dispel the illusion that had been concealing them. With a snap of his fingers, the two sleepers jolted awake, their expressions shifting from serene slumber to mild confusion.
"Good morning, you two," Luke greeted with a polite smile before deftly navigating around them, heading toward the washroom to freshen up.
Exiting the Slytherin lounge and arriving in the lobby on the first floor, he was met with a delightful surprise. Snowflakes had begun their graceful descent from the heavens, a serene cascade of white against the backdrop of Hogwarts. A brisk wind whistled through the corridors, coaxing the flakes to dance in chaotic harmony. It was a breathtaking sight, the very essence of winter's arrival.
Within the grand hall, numerous early-risers were already savoring their breakfast and engaging in animated conversations with friends at their respective tables. Amidst the cheerful ambiance at Gryffindor's table, a bustling crowd had gathered. Luke was warmly welcomed by the Weasley twins, who chimed in unison, "Good morning, Luke!"
"Good morning, George," Luke responded, grinning at the twins.
"Hey, I'm Fred, not George!" Fred chuckled, good-naturedly reminding him. Luke raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "How can I tell that?" The twins shared a hearty laugh, acknowledging that their near-identical appearance and personalities could leave anyone bewildered. Even Ron, their own brother, might occasionally struggle to differentiate them.
A thought crossed Luke's mind. What will happen when these two charming twins start dating? The mischief and double trouble would undoubtedly be legendary.
With the twins, he settled down at the Gryffindor table. But his eyes, ever observant, couldn't help but notice Hermione sitting alone at the edge. Approaching her, Luke inquired, "What book are you reading?" His curiosity was piqued by the title.
Hermione looked up from her book, "The Rules and Techniques of Quidditch."
"Why this book?" Luke questioned, knowing that Hermione wasn't particularly enthusiastic about Quidditch. Her broomstick skills had remained less than stellar.
Hermione took a bite of her bread and then slid a copy of the Daily Prophet toward him. The headline prominently featured the results of this year's Quidditch matches. However, Luke found himself less than thrilled. Quidditch wasn't his forte, and he had little interest in the sport.
Just then, Harry and Ron, who had evidently just woken up, strolled over, suppressing yawns as they joined the group.
"Good morning," Harry greeted with a lighthearted smile. The previous night, the pair had contemplated skipping Professor Snape's class, concluding that the loss of house points was a far lesser evil than enduring his insufferable teaching methods. Yet, Hermione interjected with a stern reminder, "Remember, there's an end-of-semester exam in Professor Snape's Potions class. Failing it would be a disaster..." Though she didn't spell out the consequences, her message was abundantly clear to Harry and Ron.
"What are we going to do then? We can't keep losing points!" Harry exclaimed in frustration. Ron subtly distanced himself from Harry, recognizing that the bulk of the deductions were aimed at Harry. In Potions class, he was usually seated beside Luke, which meant he wasn't the primary target for point deductions. Silently, Ronald offered a heartfelt apology to his friend.
.....
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