So… what if the one messing with Harry Potter's broom wasn't Head of House Snape at all, but that super shady Professor Quirrell who's been hiding something this whole time?
Alice really hoped it was Quirrell. She couldn't help rooting a tiny bit for Snape—just a little Slytherin solidarity.
When Harry finally got control of his broom again and spat out the Golden Snitch, the Gryffindor stands exploded like the Fourth of July.
Over on the Slytherin side, everyone just slumped. They knew the game was toast.
Alice waved bye to Millicent and the girls, then slipped out alone.
She needed to know what kind of guy Professor Snape really was.
She bolted straight for the Slytherin common room—time to track down the Bloody Baron.
---
"Sir, you have to tell me what Professor Snape is really like!" Alice locked eyes with the Baron, dead serious.
The Bloody Baron looked torn. In his book, Snape wasn't exactly a saint, but he could tell Alice was fishing for the good stuff.
"Alice, I told you—now's not the right time."
"Of course, sir, I get that. But this is huge for me. Huge. Huge. Huge."
The Baron saw that "not leaving without answers" glint in her eye. He went quiet for a long beat, then finally caved.
"Fine. I'll give you some stuff about your head of house. Just some."
"You know Severus Snape is a half-blood—not pure-blood."
"So when he was a student, a lot of Slytherins gave him grief."
"And let's be real—our head of house isn't exactly Mr. People Skills. That made things even rougher."
"Because of all that—plus some stuff I can't get into—he got obsessed with the Dark Arts."
"And yeah, I wouldn't rule out him testing dark spells on classmates."
Alice asked, "What about the other houses? Did they like Professor Snape?"
"I mean, take me—I get along fine with kids from the other three houses."
For some reason, after she asked that, the Baron gave her a weird look.
"…Back then, yeah, some kids from other houses hated him too. Like…"
He trailed off. Alice stared. He finally kept going.
"Like James Potter—Harry Potter's dad."
Alice's eyebrow shot up. Harry's dad was in this?
"James was a big deal in Gryffindor. Ran with three or four buddies. They all ganged up on Snape."
Another pause—like he didn't want to keep going.
Alice rolled her eyes. "Sir, just spill everything you know. I can handle it."
"If you're not gonna tell me, cool—just don't do this whole 'almost-saying-something' thing."
The Baron gave an awkward chuckle. "Eh, nothing I can't tell you. It's all just… tragic, really."
"Snape had this friend—Lily Evans."
"Lily got sorted into Gryffindor and ended up with James Potter. Became Harry's mom."
"I don't know what went down between James, Severus, and Lily that made her ditch Snape and end up with the guy who bullied him."
"But whatever it was? Super messy. I can feel Snape's pain and regret, even now."
Alice asked, "So the head of house was in love with Lily Evans?"
The Baron shrugged. "Beats me—I'm just a ghost."
"One more thing about Professor Snape: during the war, he rolled with the Dark Lord."
"After You-Know-Who went down, Albus Dumbledore vouched for him. Told the court Snape was his inside guy with the Death Eaters."
"So yeah, Alice—if you really want the full scoop on Snape, go ask Dumbledore. Pretty sure he gave you an open invite."
Dumbledore, huh?
Alice nodded, said goodbye to the Baron, and headed out.
The castle was still quiet—most kids were glued to the Quidditch pitch.
Walking the halls alone, Alice spotted Professor Quirrell scurrying off again.
No more stalling. She hit the stairs, heading straight for the eighth floor.
She stopped in front of the giant stone gargoyle. Headmaster's office—bingo.
Alice remembered the password Dumbledore had given her and said it out loud.
"Lemon sherbet."
(Dumbledore loved his candy.)
The gargoyle slid aside, revealing a spiral staircase. Up she went.
At the top: an oak door, already open. Dumbledore was waiting right there.
He smiled warmly and waved her to a chair. Alice took in the Sorting Hat, fancy silver gadgets, a shallow stone basin (no clue what it did), and a stack of papers on the desk.
A gorgeous gold-and-red bird perched nearby, clutching a golden twig, tilting its head at her with shiny black eyes.
Noticing her stare, Dumbledore said, "That's Fawkes. Still a youngster."
Alice nodded, gave a soft "Hey, Fawkes." The bird trilled back.
"So, Alice," Dumbledore said, magically floating a cup of tea her way, "you look like you've got questions burning a hole in you. What brings you here?"
Alice's eyes lit up at the wandless magic. Dumbledore chuckled. "Just a simple trick, my dear. You'll pick it up in no time."
She got straight to it. "Headmaster, I need to ask: would Professor Snape ever secretly hurt a student? And if something bad happens to us, can we trust him—no questions asked?"
She couldn't read Dumbledore's face, but his answer was crystal clear.
"My dear, to the first question: no."
"To the second: yes, you can trust him."
Alice nodded. Case closed.
The one controlling Harry Potter's broom? Quirrell.