Chapter 93. Waiting for Your Good News
When the bats fluttering in the Great Hall had been more or less caught by the students, Professor McGonagall waved for everyone to be quiet.
And she had the Prefects step out to the front to lead the students of their respective Houses back to their dormitories in an orderly fashion.
The professors stood on the dais watching all the students depart, exchanged a few words, and strode off towards their offices.
Quirrell, suppressing the pain in his body, walked at the back of the crowd, doing his utmost to hide his strange state so that no one would notice.
"Take me to see Snape."
Lord Voldemort's voice suddenly sounded from the back of Quirrell's head.
Quirrell trembled all over with fright at once, hurriedly looked up ahead, and only when he saw that all the professors were already far away did he breathe a sigh of relief.
"M-Master."
Quirrell's tone was still shaking.
"If you need something next time, you can wait until I'm back in my office.
If you speak so casually in the corridor like this, we are very likely to be exposed."
"Take me to see Snape now!"
Voldemort's tone grew heavier, as if to say, "Are you teaching me how to do things?"
"All right, all right..."
Quirrell nodded at once, sighed, and sent a message to Snape in the agreed manner.
He slipped up to the fifth floor of the castle and huddled in a disused classroom to wait, every so often peeking out with great care lest anyone passing by happened to spot him.
After about five minutes, hurried footsteps approached, and Snape strode into the classroom with brisk efficiency.
"Snape, you..."
Quirrell had just opened his mouth to get a word out when Snape closed in on him and looked down from above.
Quirrell thought better of it and shut his mouth.
"Quirrell, what exactly are you doing?"
Snape demanded sharply.
"Why did you not act according to plan?"
"I—I....."
Quirrell hadn't expected Snape to ask that; he was stunned for a few seconds, then hurried to speak.
"You what?"
Snape fixed Quirrell with a cutting gaze, as though a sharp blade were stabbing straight into his heart.
"Did some thoughts that shouldn't be there sprout in that foolish head of yours, so you deliberately failed to go, not wanting the Master to recover quickly?"
"N-No, I am wholly loyal to the Master—absolutely no such thoughts!"
Quirrell shouted back.
His legs had gone weak with fright; Lord Voldemort was listening right at the back of his head, after all—if he really believed it, he'd be done for.
"Then what exactly happened?"
Snape asked coldly.
Under Snape's relentless questioning, sweat seeped from Quirrell's brow; he wiped it lightly.
"My plan may have been exposed.
Someone set all kinds of traps in the forest.
Without the Master's help, I might already have died in there!"
"Weren't you the only one who knew where the troll was hidden?
You weren't even willing to tell me—how would anyone else know?"
Snape's brow knit slightly as he, without a flicker, washed his hands of any responsibility.
"I don't know either..."
Quirrell said.
"As soon as I saw the troll, I fell into a trap—saw many magical creatures attacking me and couldn't dodge no matter what.
Only when the Master woke did he tell me it was my imagination and help me out of the forest."
Snape gave a cold snort, his face full of disbelief.
"I reckon you arranged those yourself.
Otherwise why was there never any incident on your previous trips, and only today an accident?"
"Quirrell, let me speak with him."
Seeing Quirrell completely cowed by Snape, Voldemort spoke up helplessly.
"Y-Yes, Master....."
Quirrell answered humbly, turned, and slowly removed the turban from his head.
A face ashen and hideous, with red eyes and nostrils as thin and long as a snake's, stared straight at Snape.
"Master."
Snape lowered his head slightly; no longer overbearing as before, he spoke with deference.
"Snape, long time no see..."
There was no trace of emotion in Voldemort's tone.
"I have been waiting for your return.
In recent years I've worked to gain their trust so as to enter Hogwarts, and I have gathered a good deal of information on Dumbledore for you.
I believe it will be of use to you," said Snape.
Voldemort fixed his gaze on Snape and asked, "So you're saying you have stayed here for me?"
"Of course—why else would I follow that detestable Dumbledore?"
Snape said with deep loathing.
Voldemort fell silent.
A stifling atmosphere gradually spread through the room; Snape's and Quirrell's hearts thudded out of control, and they even felt that the sound of their own breathing was an affront to the man who did not speak.
After a long time, Voldemort finally spoke.
"I sent out many messages in secret in Albania, but those who once addressed me as Master seemed to have forgotten me—no one ever came to find me.
In order to survive I even sometimes attached myself to those hideous animals!"
Snape and Quirrell fell silent by tacit agreement; neither dared to make a sound.
"But fortunately I still had a faithful servant.
Quirrell came into the forest to find me and brought me out."
"Master, it's only what I should do," Quirrell replied with delight at Voldemort's praise.
"As for you, Snape," Voldemort said, his gaze scrutinising the wizard before him with his head bowed, "I am pleased that you have not completely forgotten me like the others.
What you've done satisfies me.
Continue to lie low at Hogwarts and gather information for me—when I return, this will be the key to our victory."
"Rest assured; I will strive to ferret out the information you want," said Snape.
A trace of satisfaction showed in Voldemort's eyes.
"Nor need you doubt Quirrell's loyalty to me.
He will absolutely not betray me now.
Do you understand?"
"Understood."
Snape nodded slowly.
"And prepare some healing potions for Quirrell," said Voldemort.
"He was badly wounded in the forest."
"Thank you, Master," Quirrell said, moved to tears.
Snape replied, "Very well.
I'll deliver the potions to him in a couple of days."
"In addition... I hear you intend to kill Harry Potter?"
Voldemort's tone sounded like casual conversation with Snape.
But Snape's whole body went taut.
He kept his cool and replied, "Yes, Master.
From Harry Potter's very first day at school I have been considering what method to use to kill him."
"Have you thought of a way?
Will killing him expose you?"
asked Voldemort.
"I have," said Snape.
"Harry Potter has joined the Quidditch team.
I can make a move in secret during a match, and no one will notice."
"Very good, Snape.
I'm waiting for your good news."
Voldemort seemed a little tired; he closed his eyes.
"Quirrell, let's go back."
"Oh, all right, all right."
Quirrell carefully wound his turban back on, bade Snape farewell, and left the classroom.
"Master, can we trust him?"
Quirrell asked, glancing back over his shoulder.
"He will show us with his actions whether he is worthy of trust," Voldemort replied.
Enjoyed the story? Support me and get access to early chapters by joining my Patreon!
Find me at: Patr*eon*.com/Resium
Free members can read 10+ Chapters Ahead of Release
Paid member can read 150+ Chapters Ahead of Release
Stories Available
Honkai? No, This Is Daily Life
Hogwarts Pet Master
Pokémon: Who Let Him Leave Pallet Town!
Scrolling Yu-Gi-Oh! Shorts