Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Quirrell who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can’t be far, we’ll catch them." His voice was low and cold and sort of raspy, no stutter to be heard. He barely sounded like Quirrell; he sounded colder, harsher —familiar in a vague way that made his magicks feel heavy and disgusting, like slime dragging across his skin. 