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It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked passed Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.
"What is it?" asked Percy.
"N-nothing."
The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had got from the teacher's look - a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.
"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape.
He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want everyone to know he's after Quirrell's job.
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Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.
Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with itthen Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and coldthere was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.
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