Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and all affiliated properties.
Quirrel walked through the corridors to the third floor, not encountering anyone on the way there, after all, now that exams were over most if not all students were outside enjoying the sun. The quartet followed close behind, the spell making it so that they couldn't get away.
It wasn't long before they reached locked off room, which Quirrel unlocked with a whispered "Alohomora duo." They entered the room, and were greeted by a loud growl, followed by a bark. There was a small burst of magic, Kishan's fear of dogs causing his accidental magic to break the bonds of Quirrel's spell.
"Scared, are you?" Quirrel said, recasting the spell, before they realised they were free, "Now that isn't very Gryffindor, is it?" he conjured a harp, and charmed it to play on its own. There was a loud thud, as Fluffy promptly fell asleep. "Why don't you go first then?" He pushed Kishan towards the trapdoor, releasing him from the spell, but keeping his wand trained on him.
Kishan edged towards the trap door, shaking with fear. He opened it up, and looked down into it. "I can't see the bottom, how am I supposed to get down?" he asked.
"Like this: Flipendo." With a yelp, Kishan fell through the trapdoor, prompting Hermione to scream, and Ron and Harry to yell "Kishan!"
"I'm okay," came the answer from the trapdoor, and a dim light appeared, as Kishan had cast Lumos. "My fall was cushioned, there's some sort of- Crap!" there were several thuds, and sounds of a struggle, "Incendio! Incendio!" The noise finally stopped, and Kishan called out "There's devil's snare down here, a lot!"
"Well then, who wants to go next?" said Quirrel, turning to the other three. "Don't be shy. How about you, Miss Granger? You're always the first to raise your hand, why so quite now?" with that he trained his wand on her, "Go ahead, hop in." She walked quickly to the trapdoor, hesitated for a moment standing in front of it, before jumping in. There was a thud, the noise of spellcasting, and then a pause as Hermione got to safety. Ron and Harry followed soon after, landing in a dark room, the floor covered in thick vines, charred in some places where Hermione and Kishan's spells had burned them. They stood in the corridor and watched as Quirrel dropped through, landing on a cushioning charm, the vines destroyed by a blasting curse.
He recast the binding spell, and walked through the doorway to the next room, where birdlike creatures fluttered in the air, a locked door in front of them, one that neither Alohomora, nor the more powerful Alohomora Duo could open. Quirrel looked towards the fluttering creatures, sighed, and blasted the door off its hinges.
The group entered the next room, and were presented with a large chessboard. Quirrel conjured a chair and sat down at the side of the board. "Now, I want you four to take the place of pieces on this board, and maybe entertain my master and me for the moment. Mr Weasley, I've heard you're quite good at chess, please, prove it."
Ron began directing pieces, the quartet moving across the board, playing an intense game of life size wizard's chess. They lost as many pieces as they took, and Ron often realised at the last moment that one of the others were in danger, quickly moving to bring them to safety. Finally, he sacrificed himself, after ensuring the others knew exactly what moves to make to ensure a checkmate. He was thrown across the room, landing with a small thud with the other pieces they had lost. Harry made the final move, and the king threw his crown at Harry's feet, the pieces parting to give them way to the next stage. The three ran to Ron's side, checking him for injuries. He didn't seem hurt, just unconscious, and he woke up after being hit by Quirrel's 'Enervate.'
They walked through into the next room, and were confronted with a large troll, bigger than the last one they had encountered. The troll growled, raising its club to swipe at the intruders. "Avada Kedavra!" the troll fell to the ground with a thud, dead before it could pose a threat, and the quartet were dragged into the next room. Flames sprung up, blocking both the door they came through, and the one they wanted to enter.
"Really Severus? Enchanted fire? I have the power and knowledge of Lord Voldemort!" He waved his wand; the flames blocking them were promptly put out, and he led them through into the next room, excitement visible on his face as he neared his goal. He pushed the door open and walked through. "At last, the stone-" he stopped short, seeing before him the Mirror of Erised. "What is this, Dumbledore, one last challenge?" He stepped towards the mirror, and the others saw it display the image of Quirrel standing triumphant, holding the stone up in victory. He cast a diagnostic spell at the mirror. Then another. And another.
"I don't understand, the mirror shows no sign of the stone, where is it? It must be here!" He turned to the quartet. "Well, do any of you know, I know you've encountered this mirror before, tell me what you know!" his outburst was followed by a bone breaker curse. Hermione screamed, and the others turned away from the spell, trying to avoid being hit.
There was a clang, and the quartet turned to see the spell ricochet off a shield. Quirrel had just enough time to let out a startled "What?" before the mirror behind him exploded, throwing out shards of hot metal and splinters of wood. The shrapnel hit Quirrel's hastily thrown up shield, though a few got past, searing hot metal cutting through his robes and exposed skin.
"Dumbledore!" he snarled, his face bleeding from many small cuts.
And indeed, Dumbledore stepped over the smouldering remains of the Mirror, Professor Flitwick appearing on his right, as Professor Sprout, whose shield had saved them from the bone breaker, quickly ushered the quartet behind the other professors, and Professors Snape and McGonagall strode through the doorway behind Quirrel.
"I see you've finally caught up to me, Dumbledore, after I had so easily dealt with your protections against the stone. Tell me Dumbledore, did you really think this would stop me?"
The Professors had begun to circle around Quirrel, and as Snape passed them he quickly gave five small vials to Professor Sprout.
"Quirinus, I'm disappointed, did you think those were supposed to stop you?" Dumbledore began to speak, as all four of the professors drew their wands. "Did you really think we would keep the Philosopher's Stone at Hogwarts? It was a trap, Quirrel, why do you think I announced at the opening feast the supposed location of the stone?"
Professor sprout handed the red potion, a healing one, to Ron, ensuring he drank all of it.
"But the protections? Surely you're protecting something Dumbledore, the stone must be here!" Quirrel had started to look panicked, realising his work had been for nothing.
"These chambers have a rather impressive set of runes and wards placed on them, they ensure that anyone within is unable to replenish their magic while within. Tell me Quirinus, do you feel drained, perhaps from all those powerful spells and curses you cast?"
Professor sprout handed a blue bottle of magic replenishing potion to Hermione and Kishan, as they had cast spells, one to Ron, to replenish what the healing potion had used up, before swallowing the last one, replenishing what she had lost while maintaining the shield.
"But I am aided by the Dark Lord! His magic is strong, and would not run out so quickly!"
Snape, Quirrel's back turned to him, pulled out a yellow potion from his robes, and readied his arm.
"But you are not Voldemort, and while he may have large reserves of magic, those lie with his body, not his spirit. Your own reserves, Quirinus, are quite small."
Quirrel snarled, throwing another yellow spell at Dumbledore. The spell was blocked by a shield, and at that signal the professors spun into action. A potions bottle smashed into the back of Quirrel's head, the acidic spray eating through his skin and turban. Quirrel gritted his teeth as he deflected hexes from Flitwick, blasting apart the stone McGonagall transfigured to hinder him, throwing sickly green spells at the professors.
He yowled with pain as Dumbledore's reducto tore through his left arm. The professors moved in circles around him, never staying in one place long enough to get hit, every so often one of them would drop back, the others moving to cover the gap and block spells their way as they drank a Magic replenishing potion, before diving back into the fray with renewed vigour.
The quartet watched in awe as the professors fought, realising that these were skills built through having lived through the first war, having fought to protect students from harm many times before. They were humbled, realising how foolish they had been, in trying to investigate this on their own.
Quirrel was being worn down quickly, his magic reserves being depleted rapidly by the powerful curses he was throwing around, while the Professors were constantly replenishing their own. His spells began to sputter out, his magic running low.
"Master, I beg your forgiveness, I have failed you!" he called out, and suddenly he froze. The spellcasting paused for a moment, as Quirrel let out a sound as if he was choking. "That you have" a voice spoke, seeping to come from Quirrel, but muffled somehow. "But there is still use for you." Quirrel's head jerked to the side, as his whole body twitched, and he began screaming. The tattered remains of his turban fell off his head, and as McGonagall, who had been standing behind him, gasped. Quirrel's head slowly turned, and as it stopped, turned as far as it could go, Quirrel began begging "Please master no, don't do thi-" His voice was cut off as his neck snapped, and his head continued to turn, crunching sickeningly as the back of his head faced Dumbledore.
The other occupants of the room stared in horror, the face on the back of Quirrel's head sneering back at them.
"Dumbledore, so nice to finally be… face to face with you, It been a while"
"Indeed it has, Tom." Dumbledore's face was impassive, but Voldemort's contorted in rage.
"Do not call me by that name!" he snarled. "Avada Kedavra!"
Dumbledore dodged the curse, directing his wand at the quartet as he and Professor Sprout pulled the trio out of the way, but drawing his attention to the students.
"This fool's life force will fuel me for a little longer, Dumbledore, and if I cannot have the stone, I'll simply kill a few of your students before I leave- you will not be able to protect them long enough!" He said, as the floor around him rose up at his command, transfigured into steel bars, and were pushed outwards, pinning Snape, Flitwick and McGonagall against the wall, who were only just able to stop the bars from crushing them. Dumbledore had blasted through, but he and Sprout now had to battle cursed fire as Voldemort strode past.
He approached the terrified quartet. "Harry, Harry, Harry. So brave, thinking you could investigate me without danger. You've only put your friends in danger, and now they will all die." He trained his wand on each of them in turn, as the professors battled to get past the Fiendfyre. "Did Dumbledore honestly think he could protect you from me? Did he think he could keep you alive, long enough to fulfil his damned prophecy? Of course you don't know what I'm talking about, but it doesn't matter, you'll be dead soon enough. But which of you should I kill first?" He looked them over. "Perhaps the Mudblood. Don't worry, this won't hurt for long. Crucio!"
Hermione screamed.
Magic reacted.
Time slowed down for Ron, he moved, tackling Voldemort, firing spell after spell into his side, more rapidly than should be possible. He was thrown aside by Voldemort's banishing spell, right as a bolt of overcharged lighting arced across the room from Kishan's wand. Voldemort threw him across the room, before striding across the room, to Harry who had been casting spells at him nonstop. Voldemort gripped him by the neck, lifting him up. Suddenly, they both screamed in pain.
The skin along Voldemort's arms burned, as did his face, where Harry was trying weakly to push him away. He dropped Harry, as his body began to burn up, crumbling in places. Voldemort let out an inhuman scream of pain and rage, before crumbling; leaving a faint spectre that flew from the room, the fiendfyre dying down now that Voldemort was no longer maintaining it, allowing the teachers to finally rush to the aid of their students.
'P,
Harry woke up to yelling. He opened his eyes, seeing blurry figures come into view. Putting on his glasses, he saw a man with a mane of tawny hair arguing with Madam Pomfrey.
"Auror Scrimgeour, I do not want the DMLE harassing my charges, especially considering what happened to them, now please leave before I remove you."
The auror, who had by now noticed that Harry was awake, pressed on.
"Madam Pomfrey, all of your charges are already awake and well. This is a matter of utmost importance, He-who-must-not-be-named has resurfaced, and we need to find out everything we can about the event. The professors who fought him off have already been spoken to, we need to do this, it will only be a few questions, then I will leave."
"Fine, but if any of them seem distressed I will remove you from the room."
The auror nodded, then approached Harry, as his bed was closest.
"Hello Harry, I'm here to ask you a few questions about what happened."
'P,
After Scrimgeour had questioned them all on what had happened, and what had led to it, he left, as promised. The moment Madam Pomfrey had left, after making sure her charges weren't badly affected by being questioned, the quartet had gathered around Harry's bed, and began discussing the events of the past few hours.
The first and foremost topic was the issue that this had all been a trap, for anyone trying to infiltrate the school and gain immortality. Hagrid must have been in on it, seeing as he had let slip the secret of how to get past Fluffy, though they weren't sure how deliberate it had been. Though why he was allowed to keep Norbert, why Percy of all people had to be the one to remove him when the other professors were in on the plan was a mystery to them.
The second issue was the fact that Voldemort himself had appeared, and while the teachers together had been an easy match for Quirrel, it was terrifying to see them so easily overpowered by Voldemort. The memory of Quirrel's body contorting, his screaming before it was cut short by his neck breaking, would haunt their nightmares for weeks to come. Dumbledore had been called the only one Voldemort feared, yet he had been caught up by the fiendfyre while Voldemort had toyed with them. Hermione whimpered, the pain of the Cruciatus still recent, still apparent. Ron put a comforting arm around her, as they sat solemnly, remembering what had happened.
Lastly was the prophecy Voldemort had spoken of. Harry, who had been the only one conscious at the time, told them what he had told Scrimgeour, about the strange power that had burned Quirrel's body to ash, about the prophecy Voldemort had spoken of.
"But I don't understand," Harry said, "What does a prophecy have to do with this, why does Voldemort think I have to defeat him?"
"That, Harry, is a question I had hoped you wouldn't have had to ask for a few years more."
The four jumped, turning to see Professor Dumbledore stride towards them, he had probably been there for a large part of their conversation.
"Before we talk of the prophecy, let me first answer your other questions." He said, sitting on a conjured chair, facing the four of them.
"Hagrid did indeed know about the trap, though letting it slip to you four that Fluffy was supposedly protecting something was indeed an accident. We planned for Quirrel to attempt to manipulate Hagrid into giving away the secret, and so we were aware that Hagrid had told Quirrel what to do to get past Fluffy. The dragon on the other hand was something we had not planned for. We couldn't simply remove it, as Quirrel was watching, and it would tip him off that we knew how Hagrid had gotten it, that we knew he had found out how to get past Fluffy, and it would have raised suspicion if we made no move to change the trap."
Dumbledore paused for a moment, a twinkle in his eye.
"As I and the other teachers scrambled for a way to deal with the matter in a way that wouldn't tip Quirrel off, and wouldn't put too many people in danger, Hagrid told us about the plan you four had concocted, and we decided that, since Quirrel wouldn't think anything of it, it was the best plan we had for getting the dragon away from everyone. It also let Hagrid keep the dragon for a little longer, which we felt he needed, he was so happy to have Norbert in the first place. So rather than attempt to hinder your plan, we made arrangements to assist it. Professor Flitwick charmed the crate to be soundproof and dragon proof, and for good measure, Professor Snape used a potion in the dragon's food to keep it asleep. Professor McGonagall ensured Percy Weasley's schedule was adjusted properly, and we ensured no patrols or errant students would try cross his path or interfere, leading to Mr Malfoy's detention."
He smiled at the quartets looks of shock, at how closely they had been watched throughout the year.
"Some may think I have long since gone senile, lost touch with reality, but we, as teachers, will protect our students. There have been times when you slipped our notice, like the incident with the troll, but we kept an eye on you four. Fluffy was trained not to harm students, only scare them away from the third floor, Professor Sprout made sure to teach all her students about devil's snare, and was indeed in the room with you, ready to save you if the need arose. We had to keep you safe without Quirrel noticing, lest he start firing Killing Curses when he realised it was a trap. Ronald, when you were thrown across the room by that chess piece, you landed on cushioning charms cast by Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Sprout, who had followed under disillusionment spells."
Dumbledore sighed, his story having reached the battle itself.
"With the wards we had in place, we went in with magic regeneration potions, and used our wartime strategies to keep Quirrel at bay until his magic gave out. On his own we could have overpowered him, but he was assisted by Voldemort, and additionally, of our focus was in protecting you four long enough for the effects of magical exhaustion to help us win the battle. We had almost won, but we didn't realise the lengths Voldemort would go to, and while we focused on protecting you, Voldemort only wished to cause as much harm as possible before he was forced to vacate Quirrel's body. We had not been in combat for years, so we were rusty, and as a result, the four of you were hurt, and may have even died, had it not been for the accidental magic response from you three, on seeing Miss Granger hurt."
The four were quiet, thinking about how close they had come to death.
"You may be wondering what it was that cause Quirrel's body to be destroyed in such a manner, and in order to explain that to you fully, it is with great regret that I must explain to you the circumstances in which your parents died. I assume you wish for your friends to be here with you?"
Harry nodded, focused intently on Dumbledore.
"Very well. Some time before Voldemort's defeat, the war was going badly, many good families were lost, and there seemed to be no hope. I at the time, in addition to fighting the war, tried to maintain the school, and one of the tasks that involved was interviewing any candidates for vacant teaching positions, which were emptied especially often in times of war."
Dumbledore paused, remembering the friends and colleagues he had lost in the war.
"I was interviewing a purported seer, for the position of teaching divination, and it was not turning out well. The seer was as far as I could tell, a fraud, who used parlour tricks to achieve what status she had, despite being descended from a great Seer. I was ready to leave, when suddenly the woman's demeanour changed, and I realised that she had some of her ancestor's talent, though it seemed even she was not aware of it. She delivered a genuine prophecy."
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."
The quartet stared in shock, but Dumbledore continued.
"One of Voldemort's spies was eavesdropping on our conversation, and heard the first part of the prophecy. As a result, your family was in danger, and measures were placed to ensure their safety. The Fidelus charm was cast, a spell which made it so that a secret was tied to a single person, and only they could share it with others. That secret was the location of your parents' home. Unfortunately your parents trusted the wrong person, and as a result, Voldemort learned of your location. He attacked your home, and from what the ministry was able to determine, you father attempted to hold him off while your mother tried to escape with you. From there it is unclear what happened, but I have a theory. Voldemort gave your mother the chance to leave, survive, so long as she gave you to him. She refused, and he killed her, and as a result of her refusal to leave you, her willingness to die for you when survival was an option, a powerful protection was formed around you, shielding you from the Killing Curse Lord Voldemort cast. Weakened, his body destroyed by the rebounding curse, he fled."
Dumbledore paused for a moment as Harry wiped his eyes, his friends moving to comfort him.
"Because of that protection, Voldemort was unable to harm you, and thanks to it in combination with accidental magic, when he attacked you a few hours ago, touching you burned him, and his body was destroyed."
There were a few moments of silence as the quartet processed what they had been told, then Ron spoke up.
"But Professor, what does this mean for Harry, if Auror Scrimgeour knows that You-know-who mentioned a prophecy, won't he try to find out what it was? And what if You-know-who goes after him, or one of us? We were all there…"
The quartet exchanged terrified glances at the thought that Voldemort might come after one of them, but Dumbledore was quick to reassure them.
"Auror Scrimgeour has spoken with me, and while I was forced to divulge the details of the prophecy, for the purposes of the investigation, he has promised to not let the information spread to too many people. He has informed the Minister that Voldemort has resurfaced, and will be taking measures to track, in the very least, his approximate location. If Voldemort or one of his allies gets too close for comfort, we will try to move you and your families to a safer location. Unfortunately Harry, the safest location for you is with your aunt and uncle, as I used the same protection around you to create powerful wards around that home, tied to your aunt, as she is your mother's closest living blood relative. No one who wishes you harm will be able to enter within a few miles of your home."
Harry nudged the other three when they were about to object to his having to stay with his relatives. He would much rather be alive and treated a little badly than dead.
"Professor, the prophecy said I had some power Voldemort 'knew not,' do you know what it is?"
"I cannot be sure Harry, prophecies are vague, and what it defines as a power is open to interpretation, though, since you three, Kishan, Ronald, Hermione, have all exhibited rather rare abilities, I would not be surprised to find that you, Harry, have one of your own, beneath the surface. Fate is pulling the strings, it can't be a coincidence that the four of you became friends and three out of the four of you have abilities, while the fourth is expected to have one as well. Now that said, since Voldemort now knows of you four, when he inevitably returns, you will be in danger, and your abilities, as they are, are not enough to protect you. The other professors and I have begun returning to our old training, so as not be rusty next time there is a combat situation. At the closing feast, I will make an announcement, explaining what had happened with Quirrel, and announcing a new club for the next school year. While this club only will be mandatory for any students who wish to take Defence Against the Dark Arts at the N.E.W.T Level, I encourage the four of you to join, and anyone else who you can convince."
"Professor," Kishan spoke up, "what will the club be called?"
Dumbledore smiled, "Well the name I'm currently going with is the 'Defence Association'"
A/N: And I'm back!
Apologies to everyone who's been waiting on a new chapter, I got distracted by other hobbies and no small amount of laziness. Long story short, I started having ideas for this again, and decided to get back to it. The story's taking a slightly different tone, and I could really use some questions and nitpicking and flames, to help me get back in the groove. The latter half of this chapter might seem like a major infodump, but bear with me.
I would really appreciate suggestions for names for the new club (I personally like something along the lines of Advanced Battle Magic and Wartime Strategies, but if something can form a better acronym than A.B.M.W.S. then I might go for that) as well as suggestions for Harry's power. Prophecies are vague, so it could be anything from 'Ultimate power over light and dark' to 'Attack of the hugs,' so any ideas would be welcome.
Also, yes, the story got a bit darker with Voldemort making an entrance and Quirrel dying the way he did, so I've bumped the rating from K to T, thoughts on anything from the new tone to Dumbledore telling them all of this are welcome.
Until next time.
Nox