With Lucien crossed off his list, Voldemort's patience ran thin.
If the boy wasn't responsible…
Then the answer was obvious.
Voldemort Shifts His Focus
From the shadows behind Quirrell's eyes, Voldemort redirected his attention to the one thing that truly mattered.
The Philosopher's Stone.
Power.
A body.
Time.
Everything he needed rested behind protections only Dumbledore would dare design.
Quirrell felt the change immediately.
No more observations.
No more paranoia about students.
Only orders.
"You will move faster," Voldemort hissed.
"Study the protections. Learn their weaknesses.
The Stone will be mine before winter ends."
"Yes, Master," Quirrell whispered, sweating.
He didn't dare argue.
The Stone was now Voldemort's sole priority.
Snape Confronts Quirrell
That same evening, Severus Snape cornered Quirrell near the staff corridor.
The flickering torchlight did nothing to soften Snape's expression.
"Quirrell," Snape said coldly.
"A word."
Quirrell stiffened.
"Y-Yes, P-Professor Snape?"
Snape stepped closer, eyes narrowing.
"These… rumors," Snape said slowly.
"About your head."
Quirrell forced a nervous laugh.
"Oh—th-that? R-ridiculous, r-really. J-just s-student nonsense."
Snape stared at him.
Long.
Hard.
"I do not believe in coincidences," Snape replied.
"Nor do I believe Bludgers strike twice by chance."
Quirrell swallowed.
"I-I am n-not a t-troll."
"I know," Snape said flatly.
That made Quirrell's relief freeze.
Snape leaned in just enough for Quirrell to feel trapped.
"But I also know," Snape continued, "when someone is hiding something."
Quirrell shook his head rapidly.
"Y-You're w-wrong."
Snape straightened.
"Then you are either a fool," he said icily,
"or far more dangerous than you appear."
Without waiting for an answer, Snape turned and walked away, robes snapping behind him.
Quirrell stood there, shaking.
Aftermath
In the shadows of the corridor, Voldemort's voice whispered—amused and cruel.
"You see, Quirrell?
Even your allies doubt you."
Quirrell clenched his fists.
"I w-will g-get the Stone, M-Master," he promised desperately.
"You will," Voldemort replied.
"Or you will be replaced."
And somewhere else in Hogwarts—
Lucien slept peacefully, unaware—or rather, unconcerned—that the game had officially entered its next phase.
The Stone was in play now.