John Constantine and The Useless Magic Rock

The Reveal

"Bu-but I thought that.....that Snape-"

"-Yes Harry, Professor Snape did indeed seem the type~"

The DADA gave a feral grin, obviously amused at the boy's assumption.

"Next to him-who would've ever suspected the bumbling 'p-p-poor Pro-Professor Quirrell'?!" He mocked his previous mannerisms.

"But that can't be! At the quidditch match-Snape tried to kill me!"

John startled-he what?!

"No you foolish boy-I tried to kill you!"

Harry swallowed in fear, having no problems with John pushing him back with an arm.

"If Snape's cloak hasn't caught fire I would've succeeded! Even with him muttering those-counter curses."

Suddenly it clicked for the mage.

Harry Potter was a natural on a broom; it was just fact.
The sudden jerking of the broom like he was being pulled at-almost as if trying to knock him out of the air.

That game.....had foul play involved...

The sick bastard in front of him tried to kill a kid.

"You sick son of a Bitch!"
Constantine all but growled much to the amazement to the other wizards.

Harry was shocked at the language.

Quirrell at the aggression behind them.

"Your slimy arse probably let the troll too!"
A finger pointed harshly with accusation.
"You and your speeling of 'how knowledgeable with magical creatures you are'! What better way to lead in an intruder?!-For someone who bloody works there to open the doors themselves!"

John Constantine didn't care if he was loud, the actions of their teacher speaking much more.

Quirrell sneered.
"Yes. I let the troll into Hogwarts."

The wizard raked a hand down his cloak, straightening out the creases.

"With the school in disarray, I would've snuck past and taken the stone!"
He growled out the next parts.
"But Snape wasn't so easily fooled. He had confronted me, on multiple occasions! He cut off my advances for the third floor, interrogating my person at every encounter hence forth! Snape of course, just had to've been suspicious of me from the very start."

John snorted, "Not hard to imagine-if ya hadn't noticed by now: You're a fuckn creep mate."

Quirrell narrowed his eyes at the foul mouthed student.

A shiver ran down the mage's spine.

That blasted feeling was back again.

"-ahck!"

Harry gasped at the sharp burning sensation, a hand shooting towards his head.

Curious.

John had seen that more than once.

Were he anyone else, he might've thought it to be coincidence.
But thankfully, he wasn't.

He looked back to the teacher, who had again gazed into the mirror.

Why had the mirror been moved down here?
Not that he complained-he couldn't care less for the cursed thing.

Quirrell's reflection had met his eyes.