Chapter 10

Focus Harry recall! Are you sure it was Quirrell?

"Yes, Tom for the last time. It was bloody Quirrell!

The man clearly isn't who he purports himself to be-

"The MAN should be EXPELLED!" Harry angrily interjected.

"What kind of a sick nuisance uses two students to act as bait and switch for his twisted plans?" Harry fired back.

Very hypocritical of you Harry. You were quite content to use the boys as bait yourself last night. Tom remarked back.

"I didn't "use" them, I followed them. On your request I might add. He on the other hand is a professor whose duty bound to stop such happenings." Harry wrote

Spare me your faux moral outrage Harry. You were the one who made the final judgment on following the twins, I merely provided the suggestion. As for concepts of "Honor", Honor isn't worth the dirt on my ex shoes. Honor is a false construct to help sanctimonious cowards sleep better at night. Honor helps them believe in the morality and the righteousness of their cause. Tom replied.

"Do tell oh wise one, what exactly is the one true path of life?" Harry sarcastically wrote back.

Power defines all. The one with the power and the wit to use it clearly defines the framework of society and his or her surroundings. Power demands attention of those with less of it and compels them to act in the ways the powerful deem fit. There is no good or evil, morality is subjective. The ones audacious enough to seize power are the ones who will shape future decades to come. From Herpo the Foul to Merlin and Morgana's duels to the Founder's civil war to Grindelwald and Dumbledore. Those who have emerged victorious from these conflicts have imposed their will and wit upon others and have shaped the world in their vision for generations to come. The bare truth is as simple as that. The very school you are sitting in right now is a testament to that fact.

"And what about Lord Voldemort? Was he one of the powerful ones or the vanquished?" Harry inquired.

Tom didn't bother to reply. He never did.

"Mr. Potter!"

Speak of the devil Harry thought before looking up. Quirrell stared at him with an unusual intensity causing his scare to flare even worse than before.

"Do you mind telling us where you're off to young man?" Quirrell demanded.

The entire class watched. Never before Quirrell had singled out somebody and with such intensity.

"Apologies Professor, I haven't been feeling well these past few days." Harry replied through gritted teeth. Quirrell stared at him directly in the eyes and it seemed to Harry that his head might explode. Quirrell nodded slightly and seemed to continue the lecture. The rest of the class passed on in blur before Hermione nudged him awake as they were about to leave.

"Mr. Potter! A word please!"

Harry glanced at Hermione, being one on one with Quirrell was not a safe bet right now. Hermione never getting the hint from Harry's expressions, nudged him onwards and left quickly.

The scar on Harry's forehead flared again in a sharp spike and receded just as quickly. Oddly enough Quirrell looked more confident and upbeat than he ever had before.

"Mr. Potter, please have a seat" Quirrell intoned.

Harry sat down. His heartbeat was through the roof and sweat started to form on his brow.

"Mr. Potter, how are you faring this semester?" Quirrell inquired with all the joviality of a man with all the time on his hands.

Harry tried to look anywhere but at Quirrell as he tried to answer. Matters were made worse when the "journal" inside his robe's pockets started vibrating.

"I- I am faring q-quiet w-w-well Professor. T-thank you for questioning!" Harry managed to stammer.

Quirrell raised an amused eyebrow at Harry's last line.

"Hardly "questioning" my dear boy. Since I too am quite new in academia, I make a point to know the experiences of my students. Its helps in feedback as I—"

Quirrell paused and started to look as he was about to cough and clutched the arm rests of his chair very hardly.

"Are you all right professor? Should I get some help?" Harry inquired as he got up from his seat and prepared to bolt from the office. The diary grew even more restless in his pocket.

"Sit. Down. Potter." Quirrell spat out.

Harry was slammed down in the chair by invisible hands. Quirrell regained his authoritative edge. Harry still had no control over his body and was forced to stare directly at Quirrell now.

Since when did Professor Quirrell's eyes have such a shade of red? Harry thought.

Quirrell leaned on his desk and shut his eyes tightly. Taking a few deep breaths, Quirrell seemed to regain his focus and spoke once again.

"As I was saying, I believe prompt feedback is necessary to foster a healthy academia. Since you don't seem to have any words for me, allow me to say a few for you." Quirrell stated. His voice progressively grew more sinister.

"It has come to my attention, Mr. Potter, that you have started to engage in late night forays in Hogwarts beyond the allotted curfew time." Quirrell spoke directly looking into Harry's eyes.

The memories of that night started to play once again in Harry's mind. The howl of the three headed dog, the twins barely avoiding the toxic colored spell fire, and Harry scrambling out of the corridor door.

Quirrell now smirked like a cat that had the mouse firmly in its sights. At this point Harry was openly sweating as he tried to physically heave and move out of magical bonds binding him in his chair. His face red Harry spat back,

"As if you weren't there either Professor!"

Quirrell was now openly smiling

"This was easier than I expected. You just admitted to your guilt." Quirrell took out his wand and pointed it at Harry.

"Might I suggest better learning to lie in future, Mr. Potter?" Quirrell said.

"Go to hell! I'm damn sure this isn't legal. You have nothing on me!" Harry once again pushed at the arm bindings with all strengths and broke free. The chair tumbled back due to the force of Harry's release.

Quirrell stood there stunned as if he had been slapped in the face.

Harry once again made to bolt from the class. Red spell fire followed at his trail.

"You'll not get away from me once again Potter!"

Harry had almost reached the door. Whatever new found confidence Quirrell had gained, thankfully his physical features remained the same and his reflexes even worse. Now snarling like a dog Quirrell pointed his wand at the ground and stones of the floor smashed together and blocked the wooden exit door. Harry was now trapped in a room with a lunatic. Frightened, Harry slowly turned back to see Quirrell furiously wave his wand in a diagonal arch and a blue light slammed into Harry. He was thrown back quite a distance. His robe was now off, and the diary lay in front of him. Quirrell once again advanced at him intently on him as if he were about to finish a long overdue task. The journal was now moving as excitedly as a thoroughly shaken soda can.

Quirrell's gaze fell on it and he paused. He tilted his head looking at it and poked it with his own foot. The room fell utterly silent.

Quirrell was now starting to look deathly pale. Harry struggled to move. The landing had left his body quite sore. Now was his chance to escape and get help while Quirrell was distracted.

"W-where did you even find this?" Quirrell muttered to himself.

The world started to go blur as Harry body temperature went up and his scare blazed with an unholy intensity. Quirrell snapped and glared at Harry once again, eyes glowing red, he pointed his wand at Harry and slammed him once again in the chair. This time around, Harry literally felt and saw every single limb of his tied down with some rope.

"Well well well Harry."

"I never thought I'd ever see a day when the brave and mighty Potter start consorting with dark artifacts of such degree."

Quirrell loomed over him and started,

"Now then Potter. I need you to listen to what I'm about to say very carefully. Blink your eyes once if you understand."

Not seeing any way out of this quarry, Harry blinked once.

"I have you dead to rights here Potter. Nothing that you say anymore will change that. You have openly carried a dark artifact for nearly half of your semester and didn't report it to the administration. Furthermore, you not only hid it, you have been openly interacting with it."

Harry made a sound that sounded like disagreement through his sealed lips. Quirrell grabbed his hair in a fist and stated,

"Oh, knock it off Potter. Your essence is all over the journal. You won't fool me!"

Letting go of the boy, Quirrell continued,

"Not only that, you also ventured into the forbidden area of Hogwarts alongside Fred and George Weasley. You see where this situation puts you doesn't it? Not only can I have you expelled for this but subjected to an auror investigation for a long time. No doubt they'd be very interested to know what the "boy who lived" was up to the whole time. You see where I'm going with this? I hold your entire future in my hands right now boy. I can have you removed from this world in a blink of an eye!"

Harry was now dead inside. All he ever hoped and worked for seemed to be collapsing all around him. There's was not a single thing he could do salvage his situation right now. Tom's words that he ignored now rang hollow in his mind

Those who have emerged victorious from these conflicts have imposed their will and wit upon others

If only he was powerful enough to do break free so that he could impose his answer on Quirrell himself. While Ron had told him in an off the cut remark that "self-thinking" objects or "Abominable Intelligence" as they were referred to in the magical world were a taboo, serious cases could land someone in serious trouble. Harry's shame engulfed him.

"Now I'm a generous man Potter so I won't directly report you to the deputy Headmistress. I'm sure one day you'll enthusiastically repay my generosity." Quirrell said

Harry felt that his lips had been unsealed but the shock from the sheer gravity of the situation still engulfed him.

Quirrell pointed his wands at Harry's ribs and Harry felt the wind get knocked out from him. He looked up in pain at Quirrell who merely raised an inquisitive eyebrow in response.

"Y-yes. Whatever yoo waaaant!" Harry wheezed out.

Quirrell grinned like a shark in response.

Ron POV

Ron was not having a good time. He tried and tried but no matter how hard he did it, he could not escape. The Weasley and all its "attributes" came back to him no matter what. He tried hard to be different. To be something other than a dirt poor, red headed freckle faced blood traitor. He had begged the hat to place him in a different. Anywhere but Slytherin or Gryffindor, bloody Hufflepuff would be great. But as always, none ever bothered to listen to home there were always the twins to "encourage" him. Making him part of their sick pranking games and a guinea pig for their contraptions. Always reminding him of his worthlessness. Meanwhile mother would either purse her lips or screech, never taking any solid action. Dad would always chuckle mumble something along the lines of "boys will be boys". He never properly got to hang around Will and Charlie. Both too busy making their own mark on the world. Percy dropped the occasional helpful tidbit here and there along with a galleon when he could spare it, but that was the end of his generosity. Ginny was far too young for him to connect with. He had hoped, bloody Potter, of all people given how he looked so lost in the world, would make for a good beneficiary to have. Yet as soon as the boy had met with the Malfoy brat, he had been given the cold shoulder. After that it was the stupid little diary where he was always scribbling in.

Speak of the devil

"Hello Ron, long time no see…." Harry muttered lamely while looking at the ground.

"Ah blimey mate really been a while…. I thought you had forgotten all about us lowly mates given your recent chummy mates in Slytherin…." Ron continued before adopting a thinking pose

"But something must've happened for them to turn on you like this… Ah wait! You're a Gryffindor! I heard seakers and beaters usually don't mix well with others this time of the year…." Ron said

"You seem to be driving an awfully savage pleasure from this..." Harry once again lamely muttered though he was getting annoyed as well.

"Well I'm not the only one you've managed to hurt. Oliver of the Quidditch squad looked peakish. Its cuz he has no idea of what do with the seeker job…"

"Ok! OK! I get it Ronald! I haven't been the best Gryffindor lately. If you must know, for us lowly first timers, taking in all" Harry gestured to his dormitory surroundings

"Is a bit too much chug in all at once." Harry said

"You got that right" Ron replied

"Besides, I came here to apologize and make amends. I know it was bad of me to leave you while we bailed from the duel disaster. That prick Malfoy will get what's coming to him. I assure you."

"Well you did bail, and I got screwed. But I forgive you. Now what amends?" Ron demanded.

"The best revenge a Gryffindor can have Ron. A chance to get back at one of the Slytherins!"

"W-wait how?" Ron replied looking very interested.

"Oh, it's a terrific tale Ron and I swear by every word of it." Harry replied while taking a seat on one of the opposing beds. Ron didn't notice the discreet crossed fingers in Harr's pockets for his own good of course.

"You honestly expect me to believe this Harry?" Hermione said with a poker face.

"A teacher, who I imagine is thoroughly approved by the school administration, is attempting to steal something from one of the forbidden sections of our school? His own school?" Hermione said and raised an eyebrow.

"She does have a point mate. Wouldn't Dumbledore know about all this thievery business?" Ron replied.

"Look guys the administration isn't giving a whit about what Snape is doing. Believe me I know. I went to them." Harry said

"And what exactly did you do?" Hermione questioned.

"I went to Quirrell and he flat out refused to hear me!" Harry pleadingly interjected.

At that both Hermione and Ron paused in contemplation.

It was Ron who first broke the silence

"I don't know man… I mean if the teachers don't believe us, what can we do about it? I mean we are all first years and the mids are coming up too man….."

Hermione remained silent.

Harry could feel Quirrell's hands wrapping around his throat and manacles on his hands, in times like these Harry missed Riddle's confident demeanor…. Shaking himself from his reverie, Harry tried to convince his new-found "mates" to help him in this endeavor. His future depended on it… he can't do this alone.

"Look guys, all I am asking is for you guys to give this a look over. A potential thief with historic loyalty to the Dark Lord is making a play here at Hogwarts. I hear that myself when exploring Hogwarts late at night. While this might not seem like a big deal for you guys, if there is even a 1% chance of whatever hidden treasure there is bringing back Voldemort, I want to stop it!" Harry said in an impassioned voice. Good thing all four of them were in an abandoned classroom.

"Should Rowena or Godric have left it all when the Aether Weavers threatened them with death and excommunication? Should Salazar have surrendered when Aethr weavers trapped him for 2 days and nights in their prison to surrender his allies? No they didn't! They stood against injustice! Should Churchill have bowed to Hitler's aims? No! Now, I don't know about you guys, but I for one am not about to let my mother's sacrifice go to waste!" Harry yelled the last part out defiantly. A bit of shiny watery eyes for the cinematic effect and both were hooked on Harry's every word.

Both Ron and Hermione looked stunned. They remained that way before Hermione leaped forward and tightly hugged Harry.

"YES! We will help you out Harry!"

"Won't we, Ron?!"

Hermione asked excitedly.

"Yeah blimey mate that was something else…. Sure, I'd be happy to help you!" Ron muttered while rubbing the back of his head.

At the top of the bushy hair surrounding him, Harry spied Kayla raising her cup up to him in salue

Well said Preacher