"Okay," Harry breathed, tugging Evan in closer to lean his head on his shoulder, and swallowing the fear that crawled up his throat —ugly and rancid. Their hands still smoked where they were clasped together. He didn't know what they were meant to do with that information, and Evan seemed just as clueless. "Okay. We can't do anything about any of this right now. We have to get rid of Quirrell and —" he stumbled then, not quite sure what the next step was. "We have to get rid of Quirrell." 