AU of 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' inspired by Nemati and Faith Accompli...
Die, Potter, Die.
As Harry moved aside he felt the Philosopher's Stone against his leg. Dare he make a break for it?
But he hadn't moved five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.
"He lies... He lies..."
"Potter come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"
The high voice spoke again.
"He has the stone... kill him."
Harry stumbled backwards as Quirrell raised his wand, he turned to run through the black flames and had nearly made it when Quirrell cried "Avada Kedavra!"
...Then there really wasn't anything after that.
"Hurry fool, get the stone!"
Quirrell ran forward and searched through Harry's pockets, his hand finally closing on the cold, smooth surface of a gem.
"I have it Master!"
"Then take us away from this place, before Dumbledore comes."
"But Master..."
"NOW!"
Quirrell ran.
Quickly casting spells cancelling each of the room's challenges (really, who thinks up a bunch of trails that a band a first years could best?), Quirrell levitated up to the trapdoor and raced out of the door before that overgrown hound could realise what had happened. He tore off out of the castle and into the (relative) safety of the forbidden forest.
As he ran, Quirrell glanced up and caught sight of a black shape speeding towards Hogwarts. Remembering how the Headmaster often rode to Lodon on a Threstral rather than floo or go by broomstick, Quirrell smiled and picked up his pace, by the time Dumbledore got to the mirror room and saw Potter's body, he and his Master would be long gone.
Dumbledore landed Tenebrus and dismounted, hurrying over to the front doors of Hogwarts. It was a gamble to take to be sure, he of all people knew the power of the Dark Lord, but he also knew that Harry deserved a chance to meet his nemesis face to face, and conquer the fear that so many in the wizarding world lived under.
Nearly running into Ronald and Hermione in the entrance hall (Weasley sporting a splendid black eye and leaning heavily on his friend) he stopped only long enough to say; "Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?" Before running on up the stairs without awaiting an answer.
Curse Fudge for keeping him busy! Instead of simply telling Dumbledore he wasn't needed and letting Dumbledore return to Hogwarts so he could keep an eye (from a distance) on the happenings there and intervine when neccesary, that fool of a Minister had decided that since Dumbledore was there he could help him with three dozen pieces of legislation. He had only just managed to escape and get to Hogwarts in time.
Bypassing Fluffy (who was trained not to attack him or Hagrid), Dumbledore easily negated all the various challenges in the rooms and leaped out of the fire to-
-the sight of a very dead Harry Potter.
Dumbledore froze. the room was empty of everyone and everything save himself, poor Harry's body and the Mirror of Erised, no sign of either Voldemort or Quirrell, missing too was the distinct magical signature of the Philosopher's Stone.
He had made the gamble, and lost, Voldemort would return, immortal this time, and the one fated to destroy him was dead.
Voldemort stretched new muscles in delight, whole at last! Really, as days went this was one of the best in memory. A body, immortality, the only one with the power to destoy him now dead, his wand and power back and dear Quirrell back at Hogwarts and fobbing off the Ministry... Life was good.
Admittedly there was ten years worth of repairs to make on his army, most of which was in Azkaban, but he was confident he would make it.
So much to look forward to, death, genocide, power...
And best of all, tomorrow's edition of the Daily Prophet. What would Dumbledore say? Tell the reporters that Potter had died in an accident to save face? Or tell then the truth and have to answer some VERY awkward questions about his role in the affair. The there was still Quirrell with a good (read Imperio'd) alibi to head them off...
Yes, life was good.
Dark, as usual, but what else do you expect? I hate that brat.
Skull Bearer.
