At breakfast the next day, Snape could almost be described as happy. He sat proudly at his seat, slowly cutting the pancakes on his plate. When he nodded and accepted the butter handed to him by Professor McGonagall, his greasy black hair remained perfectly still, stuck to his face.
"What happened?" Anthony asked, puzzled, as he sat down and glanced up at the hourglasses representing the four houses. As far as he could tell, the house points hadn't changed much.
"What?" Professor Burbage asked casually, pushing a plate of baked potatoes toward him.
Anthony's attention was immediately drawn to the food. "Oh, thank you," he said, realizing how hungry he was.
All three of them had missed dinner the previous night because they had spent so much time with the Weasley twins, going over the qualifications they needed to prove for the owl adoption. Anthony had eventually asked a house-elf to bring them some food.
The Weasley twins had ordered steak and kidney pudding with carrots, while Anthony had opted for a sandwich and hot milk. When he woke up this morning, he realized that wasn't enough.
But his breakfast questions were quickly answered that afternoon.
Anthony spent the entire afternoon in the common area of the library, reading a new Muggle Studies book, Jim Cat.
The book, written by a friend of Professor Burbage, was aimed at preschoolers. It told the story of a cat named Jim who sneaked out of the tent while on vacation with his wizarding family. When he returned, he found that everyone had left, so he had to find his way home on his own, discovering novel similarities and differences between Muggle and wizarding life along the way.
As Anthony read about Jim the cat trying to help a sleeping old woman turn off a lamp, two students sat down angrily behind him. The kitten in the illustration was clumsily and curiously examining the glowing desk lamp. Anthony touched the switch on the desk lamp, and the light in the painting went out. Jim the cat looked at the now-dark lamp in surprise, then turned his gaze toward the reader outside the illustration.
"School is crazy," one student complained.
Mrs. Pince looked over sternly. Anthony heard a rustling sound behind him as the student took out a book, spread out some parchment, and pretended to be writing a paper.
His friend echoed in a low voice, "That's right, Potions class is bad enough, but Defense Against the Dark Arts—"
"Can't they find someone else to take over the class?" the first student whispered, flipping through the pages of his book. "Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, I bet neither of them would be worse than Snape."
"I think Professor Sprout would be great too," his friend added hopefully. "She could teach us how to throw biting cabbages at Grindylows."
"Whoever it is, I've never been so eager to see Quirrell back in class," the first student grumbled. "Here, Grindylow's eating habits. Why do I need to know what it eats? As if it's going to catch me and make me cook for it." He muttered as he began copying notes onto his parchment.
His friend also started writing and then quietly asked, "Do you know what happened to Professor Quirrell?"
"Who knows," the student said resentfully. "Maybe he finally realized he's lost his sense of smell and went to St. Mungo's for treatment. And then left the whole school to Snape, who's lost his sense of taste… Ha, I'm not surprised at all..."
"I heard that Ernie saw Professor Quirrell the day before yesterday," his friend replied. "He said Quirrell looked terrifying, with scratches and blood marks all over his face and body. If it weren't for the smell, it was so bad that Ernie almost didn't recognize him."
Anthony suddenly remembered that he hadn't seen Professor Quirrell in several days.
"What happened to him?" the student asked, voicing the question in Anthony's mind.
"I don't know, but Ernie thinks..." The friend lowered his voice mysteriously, and Anthony had to strain to hear clearly. "He thinks Snape might have threatened him. You know, Snape's wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for years. And where in Hogwarts do you find the most knives?"
"The kitchen?" the student suggested, then quickly corrected himself. "Okay, I know you mean the Potions classroom... but Dumbledore's still here, and you don't think—no, you don't think Dumbledore would let Snape stew Quirrell, do you?"
His friend hesitated. "I'm not sure; that's just what Ernie said. But think about it—what else could have injured him like that? Madam Pomfrey couldn't have cured those wounds, but who's teaching his classes today? Snape! Not just for us, but all the grades seem to have switched to Snape."
…
In the staff lounge, Professor Sprout told Anthony unequivocally that the "Snape sliced Quirrell" theory was pure nonsense.
"Quirinus went to explore a dark magic creature cave over the weekend," Professor Sprout explained, dipping a finger biscuit into her tea. "He wanted to bring back some teaching materials for the students. That's what he told us himself. As it turns out, the creatures in that cave were far stronger than he anticipated. Several powerful magical animals scratched him up, and he didn't even see what they were."
"I hope his life isn't in danger," Anthony said, concerned.
"Oh, probably not," Professor Sprout replied sympathetically. "He refused Poppy's help—I think he felt a bit embarrassed—and said he just needed some time to recover. Poor Quirinus, he's really trying to be a good professor."
Anthony asked, "Do you think I should visit him? I mean, we live in the same corridor, but I didn't even know he was injured until today..."
"I'm not sure. Maybe give him some time to recover quietly," Professor Sprout suggested, taking a sip of tea. "It's normal that you're just now hearing about it, Henry. He won't blame you. When he came back injured last Saturday, you were out with the students in the Muggle world."
Anthony nodded and picked out a caramel cinnamon biscuit. "I hope he gets better soon... To some extent, many students now think he's a good professor. I suppose Professor Snape's involvement might have helped a bit."
Professor Sprout laughed, then gently changed the subject. "Tell me about your practical activity, Henry. How did it go?"
Anthony pretended to be surprised. "Hey, didn't you hear, Pomona? I thought everyone was talking about how they were going to have more pets!"
Most of the students who participated in the activity expressed their desire to adopt pets. Several still needed to obtain parental consent—especially those who wanted to adopt dogs, which meant their parents would be responsible for the pet most of the time—and a few even wanted to adopt multiple pets. Anthony warned them to discuss it with their roommates before deciding if they really wanted to take on so many responsibilities.
Professor Sprout smiled. "I've heard about it. Midgen's roommate has been complaining that she talks nonstop about a smart, gentle, cute, capable, and beautiful cat every day." She asked curiously, "What's that cat like?"
Anthony thought of Miss Heathcliff. "Ah... well, it's a tortoiseshell cat. It seems Midgen is really fond of her." He added with some concern, "I just hope her roommate grows to like the cat as much as she does."