CHAPTER FIFTEEN
and spells by heart, memorize the dates of magical discoveries and
goblin rebellions. . . .
Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, Harry’s
new resolution not to interfere in anything that didn’t concern him
was put to an unexpected test. Walking back from the library on
his own one afternoon, he heard somebody whimpering from a
classroom up ahead. As he drew closer, he heard Quirrell’s voice.
“No — no — not again, please —”
It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry
moved closer.
“All right — all right —” he heard Quirrell sob.
Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom
straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was
about to cry. He strode out of sight; Harry didn’t think Quirrell
had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell’s footsteps had dis-
appeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, but a door
stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway toward it before he
remembered what he’d promised himself about not meddling.
All the same, he’d have gambled twelve Sorcerer’s Stones that
Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard,
Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step — Quirrell
seemed to have given in at last.
Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing
Ron on Astronomy. Harry told them what he’d heard.
“Snape’s done it, then!” said Ron. “If Quirrell’s told him how to
break his Anti-Dark Force spell —”
“There’s still Fluffy, though,” said Hermione.
“Maybe Snape’s found out how to get past him without asking
Hagrid,” said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books sur-
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