Among the Hogwarts teachers, Snape was generally considered a bad sort.
The other teachers never gave anyone that impression.
Harry, in particular, thought Snape was no good.
"Achoo!" Snape rubbed his nose.
Will kept his distance. The man might have a cold, and he had no desire to catch it.
"Behrens, your teacher hasn't come down with dragon pox. Are you standing so far away to give knowledge room to enter that wrinkle-free brain of yours?" Snape was displeased. He had just refereed a Quidditch Match in which Slytherin had lost to Gryffindor, and he was already in a foul mood.
Will's attitude only made him angrier. He had offered to tutor the boy out of kindness, and now the boy was avoiding him?
An ungrateful brat, just like Potter!
Above the Forbidden Forest, Harry also let out an "Achoo!"
Harry had never thought Professor Quirrell was a bad person. In fact, hardly any students thought the stammering professor was bad. He did little but read aloud in class and had even let the Weasley Twins pelt the back of his head with snowballs. Everyone saw him as timid.
So Harry never imagined that following Quirrell might be dangerous. Worse, it never occurred to him that the Forbidden Forest itself might be dangerous. He had long since forgotten Dumbledore's warning at the start-of-term feast.
Harry followed Quirrell through the air until the professor entered the Forbidden Forest. Dense foliage hid Quirrell from view, forcing Harry to fly lower to look for him.
"Where could Professor Quirrell be going?" Harry's shoes brushed the treetops as he searched. From a distance, he would have looked like a black speck above a sea of dark green.
Meanwhile, Quirrell pressed deeper into the Forbidden Forest. His head felt as though someone had split