The Final Destination of the Sherbet Lemons

Stepping through the archway out of the Hospital Wing, Harry stopped in her tracks. She glanced around, and after making sure no one was nearby, she turned to her two companions and lowered her voice. "How's Professor Quirrell now?"

"What do you mean, how is he?" Ron looked bewildered. "He was teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts this morning, stuttering his way through a lesson on vampires... er, why are you looking like that?"

Harry stared at him in disbelief. "But he tried to kill me yesterday!"

Hermione and Ron exchanged a shocked look. "Professor Quirrell tried to kill you?"

"Right after I came out of the Chamber of Secrets," Harry said with a nod. "He pretended to be concerned, but actually..." Harry didn't finish. "Never mind, the details don't matter."

Hermione grabbed Harry's wrist, her brown eyes wide. "Does Dumbledore know about this?"

"I'm not sure..." Harry pondered for a moment, then shook her head. "But Professor Snape saw it."

Understanding dawned on Ron's face. "Oh-so the old bat didn't tell the headmaster!" He waved his arms dramatically. "I knew he was no good! Maybe he's in league with Quirrell!"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Hermione was so angry that her hair stood on end. She wanted to pry Ron's head open and see if there was nothing but paste and water inside. "Use your brain!"

She counted off on her fingers. "If Professor Snape were a bad person, why would he save Harry? Why take her to the Hospital Wing himself? He could easily have joined Quirrell in..." She left the rest unsaid, leaving Ron to work it out for himself.

"All right, all right!" Ron shouted, cutting Hermione off. Under her reproachful gaze, he scratched his head, a little embarrassed. "I was just saying... That's what everyone says about him."

Hermione wanted to say more. She really was getting fed up with Ron's brain short-circuiting. Ron's head hurt from Hermione's scolding. He pursed his lips and sent Harry a signal for help.

But Harry didn't take his side. "Professor Snape isn't a bad person."

She spoke firmly. "He's saved me many times."

Ron looked at Harry, then at Hermione, and finally raised his hands in surrender. "All right, all right, we'll go with what you say. Professor Snape is a good person."

Only then did Hermione stop arguing with Ron. As if she had suddenly remembered something, she slapped her thigh. "Oh, right! I've finished looking up information on the Basilisk!"

"We might... not need that for now." Harry's expression was a little strange. Her lips twitched for a moment, but she still didn't tell her closest friends about him and Voldemort.

Hermione froze for a moment, then grew even more excited. "That's wonderful! I just found a few new Potions books! They might be useful..."

Hermione didn't finish. She was staring ahead in horror.

Harry followed Hermione's gaze. At the corner of the corridor, half of Snape's body was visible, and there was no telling how much of their conversation he had overheard.

Seeing that they had spotted him, Snape stopped hiding. "Miss Potter, I'm glad there's nothing wrong with your health." Though the words expressed concern, his voice still sounded like a serpent flicking its tongue.

"Professor!" Harry called out. She grabbed Snape's sleeve and felt a bulging packet. "Professor Quirrell, he..."

Snape pressed his index finger to Harry's lips. "That is not something you need to concern yourself with, Potter."

He bent down, his black hair, greasy as though it hadn't been washed in three months, falling over his eyes. "Keep your friends in line, Potter." The whisper was almost inaudible. "The sweets are in your left pocket."

After the black-robed professor strode away, Ron poked his head out from behind Hermione. "What did he put in your pocket?"

Harry pulled out a handful of brightly wrapped Sherbet Lemons. The three of them all looked at them strangely.

Snape, carrying sweets?

What kind of Arabian Nights ghost story was this?

And they were sweets that had absolutely nothing to do with Snape, at that!

After a long silence, Hermione suddenly sucked in a breath. "Wait! Was he warning us that there really is something wrong with Quirrell?"

Ron snatched a sweet and tossed it into his mouth. "I suppose so? But why would Professor Snape be so kind? We're not Slytherin students."

Hermione disagreed. "Besides being the head of Slytherin, Professor Snape is still a professor. It's perfectly normal for him to warn us. Besides, Ron, have you forgotten? Harry is the Girl Who Lived! Of course Professor Snape wouldn't want anything to happen to her!"

Harry let her two friends argue as they walked along with her between them. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass, casting dappled light and shadows over them.

Chatting as they walked, the three soon arrived at Herbology class.

Morning sunlight streamed through the greenhouse glass onto the damp soil. When Harry pushed open the creaking wooden door, the scent of fresh grass enveloped her. She had barely stepped inside when a group of figures wearing red-and-gold scarves surrounded her.

"Merlin's beard! It's so good that you're all right!" Dean patted his chest dramatically. "I heard you were attacked by a Troll?"

Seamus squeezed his way over too, his eyes shining. "Fred said you took out a whole army of Trolls single-handed!"

"That's not true!" Harry's green eyes shone faintly. The warmth of their concern made her chest grow hot.

Fred's nonsense, as relayed by Seamus, also made her smile.

That's Fred for you. He actually said something like that, and people believed him. George must have had a hand in it too.

Just as she was about to explain, a drawn-out sneer suddenly came from the greenhouse entrance.

"How touching, such affection between classmates."

Draco Malfoy strolled over, with Crabbe and Goyle following behind him like two mountains of flesh.

The Gryffindors all tensed up, ready to stop the young master who had come looking for trouble from suddenly attacking Harry.

Draco's grey-blue eyes swept over Harry, from the hem of her robes to the red hair sticking up over her forehead, finally settling on the bandages around her arm.

"It seems our 'Girl Who Lived' has had a bit of luck." He drawled, "Let's hope you're just as lucky next time."

The words should have sounded concerned, but he made them sound like a declaration of war.

Crabbe suddenly closed his eyes and began pretending to be a potted plant. Goyle, meanwhile, stared at the ceiling, as though he had suddenly developed a keen interest in the greenhouse's structure.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled Harry closer to her. "Malfoy, if you've only come to spout this nonsense-"

"I'm just passing by," Draco interrupted, lifting his chin. "I only stopped to see how our dear Miss Harry Potter, the centre of all the news, was doing."

...Young master, that's not what you said in the dormitory!