Here is the next part after that cliffhanger! Things are pretty fast paced in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it. The further I get in this story, the more I diverge from cannon. Harry and Ron have made a lot of different decisions since they were in Slytherin. So have some others, like Patill, and Neville. But then others haven't changed their plans just because Harry's house is different. That's why Quirrell still released the troll, and gave Hagrid a dragon egg. Dumbledore still let Harry see the Mirror of Erised. The small ripples just get bigger.

I want to say thanks to everyone who reviews. I am so glad so many people like this story. I am planning to go through all the books, continuing to change things up.

I have been asked about Ron's brothers. Don't worry, their attitudes will change soon, but they still have to deal with the fallout of how they treated Ron. And they aren't too fond of snakes, even if they accept their brother.

Disclaimer: I do not own!

Captured

"Now, then, what am I to do with all of you?" Quirrell mused.

"You could let us go?" Ron suggested, but Quirrell didn't seem to be paying attention.

Out of the blue, a voice spoke, the same one they had heard at Halloween, but there was no communication device to be seen. Harry's scar began hurting again, and Ron had to hold him up as his knees gave way, "Take them with us. Perhaps they will be of some use. We will go to get the stone now. It is best to do it before anyone notices what has happened."

"Yes, Master. Inside, quickly. It would not do to get caught. I will not hesitate to kill anyone that you might try and alert." Harry was barely able to discern the words through the immense pain in his head, though he did move forward as Ron mostly dragged him into the castle, Quirrell's wand trained on them the whole time.

By the time they reached the third floor corridor, Harry's scar had retreated down to a dull ache, allowing him to concentrate on his surroundings once more. They paused outside the door, as Quirrell transfigured a piece of armor into a harp, which he charmed to play. He pushed the harp through the door, waiting a few minutes to let it lull Fluffy to sleep.

"Remember, you are to do as I say. Do not try anything if you want to make it through this." Harry doubted that Quirrell would simply allow them to leave when this was all over. Plus there was Voldemort to deal with, who must be the voice they kept hearing. As they entered the room with the beast, Harry began to get an idea of exactly what it meant that Quirrell was host to Voldemort. This thought caused Harry to remember Snape, who was lying unconscious outside, worry for his teacher overcoming him. Harry was jostled from his musings by the sight the sight that met him as he stepped over the threshold.

There was a giant, three-headed dog, sleeping peacefully. Harry could not help but stare at the beast, and he could feel Ron doing the same. They held their breath, hoping that it would not wake up.

"Hurry up. The harp will stop playing eventually, and then we will be in a lot of trouble," Quirrell's voice reminded them of their perilous situation. Harry and Ron stepped to where Quirrell was directing them. There was a trapdoor, which is what Fluffy had been guarding.

"Weasley will go through first," Quirrell attempted to use a levitation spell to lower Ron, but Ron's head only just cleared the trapdoor when he was unexpectedly sent plummeting to the ground with a scream.

"What's down there, Weasley?" Quirrell called down.

"Dunno. Some sort of plant. I think it's here to break our fall. By the way, what happened?"

"There is a blocking spell which prevents anyone from using a spell to help slow their fall. What type of plant is it?"

"I'm not sur-AHHH!" Ron screamed, "The plant is attacking me."

Quirrell frowned down at the hole. "Go on, Potter." Quirrell shoved Harry into the darkness before he could react. Once he landed, Harry scrambled away from the plant, to a narrow ledge off to the side. Quirrell landed seconds later, immediately creating a fire with his wand. The plant retreated from the source of light, which Harry was grateful for, since the plant had begun strangling Ron.

"What was that?" Harry asked, running to help his friend, who was gasping for air.

Quirrell gave him a withering stare, "This is not class, Potter. I am not here to teach you anything. You will help me get what I want and you will do as you are told. Now, move." They went down a sloping, stone passageway. After some time, they could hear a soft rustling sound.

"What is that?" Ron asked.

"Be quiet," Quirrell instructed. They went around the corner, finding themselves in a room filled with strange looking birds. Quirrell went straight passed them to the only door in the room. He attempted to open the door, even trying some sort of unlocking spell, but was unsuccessful. "It looks like we'll have to catch the key." Harry looked back at the birds, realizing that they were in fact, keys. "Both of you, pick a broom and bring me the key. Then we will proceed." Quirrell pointed to several brooms which had obviously been left there for this particular task.

Ron looked aghast, "But there are hundreds of them."

"Then I suggest you get going."

Harry examined the doorknob, "We're looking for an old fashioned key, probably silver, like the door handle." Harry and Ron exchanged worried gazes, before mounting a broom and flying into the fray.

The keys were quick and difficult to catch. The venture was made even harder by the fact that they weren't entirely sure which key they were searching for. They had been in the air long enough that Quirrell was becoming impatient, and threating them if they didn't hurry up.

Harry, who had keen eyesight and knack for noticing what others missed, saw what could only be the key to door. "Ron, there's the key." Ron was able to find it quickly once Harry had pointed it out. Harry and Ron both tried to catch the key, but it was elusive.

Harry was getting frustrated and nervous from Quirrell's constant threats, when Ron spoke up, "Harry, stay there. I'm going to herd the key toward you and you catch it." Harry had barely nodded his assent, when Ron dove toward the key, which flew straight to Harry in its attempt to get away. Relieved, Harry and Ron landed, where Quirrell snatched the key from Harry's hand. Without another word, Quirrell unlocked the door, and they all stepped through to the unknown.

The room was dark, but light flooded the room as they stepped inside. The room was filled with giant marble figures, and Harry only realized what they were when Ron breathed, "It's a chess set."

So, it was.

"Well, it looks as if we'll have to play our way across,"Quirrell told them. Ron and Harry were instructed to take the place of some of the pieces. Harry became a rook, while Ron was a castle. Quirrell took the place of the queen.

The game was intense, as it was just like real wizards chess. When one piece was caught, the other side obliterated it. Quirrell did not seem too worried about the safety of his two hostages, making risky moves that placed them in danger. Harry was glad that Ron was so good at chess, able to make suggestions for better moves that kept them from harm. Quirrell even seemed to register that Ron was better at the game, and mostly allowed the red head to direct the game.

Harry saw that Ron hesitated, several times, considering making a move that would take out Quirrell. Harry half wished he would do it, but both knew that the act would probably be futile, only resulting in angering their captor. The game continued, and Ron managed to keep everyone on his side safe, until, eventually, Harry stepped forward to take the black king.

The king took off his crown, dropping it at Harry's feet. All of the pieces moved to the side, allowing the trio passage into the next room.

Harry's heart almost stopped at the sight that met them.

There was a large troll, standing in the middle of the room. It was nearly twice the size of the one that had been in the castle at Halloween. Harry had only ever seen a troll unconscious, and as the troll turned to them, raising his club, Harry decided he much preferred them that way.

Quirrell lifted his own wand, muttering a spell Harry had never heard before. There was a blast of yellow light, and then a loud thump. The troll was lying on the ground, no longer a threat to them. Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, as they moved passed the troll.

As soon as they were over the threshold of the next room, flames erupted on both sides of the room, trapping them inside. Purple flames were behind them, and black in front. There was a table filled with different sized bottles, and a piece of parchment with a riddle on it. Quirrell stared at the parchment for a long while, trying to decipher the answer.

Quirrell picked up the two smallest bottles on the table, "One of these will allow us to move forward, while the other will allow us to go back. Unfortunately, there is only enough for one to move forward, while there is just enough to allow two to head back. Therefore, we will have to do this in turns. Since I cannot leave you both behind, one of you shall have to go ahead and wait in the next room. Two of us will go back and wait a few minutes until the flames have receded. Then we shall move forward, one at a time, until we have all advanced. Weasley, this potion will allow you to move on. We will join you in a few minutes."

Ron's eyes were wide as he took the smallest potion bottle from Quirrell. Ron glanced at Harry, swigged the potion, and proceeded through the black flames. Quirrell took a small sip from the potion he held, giving the rest to Harry. The two of them walked through the purple flames. Harry made sure to stand far away from the troll as they waited.

"I will go next, and then you shall come through, Potter."

Harry looked at his former teacher in surprise, "You don't want me to go first?"

Quirrell appraised Harry, "Potter, I would like to keep you alive, since I am sure the Dark Lord would be most pleased to speak to you once he regains his own form," Harry shivered at the implication that he would wind up face to face with Voldemort, "I am unsure of what we will have to undertake next as we move through these tasks. Dumbledore himself set up the next room. It is sure to be difficult, and you are untrained and unlikely to be able to handle whatever may occur."

Harry felt his stomach clench, "You sent Ron through alone!"

"I could not leave you two behind to spoil my plans by running off. Weasley is unimportant if anything should happen."

"You mean you might have sent him to die!"

"Perhaps, but I have seen you and Weasley together. If there is still a possibility of Weasley being alive, you will not abandon him. You will follow me through or Weasley will die. It is as simple as that." Harry could only stare in horror at Quirrell's callousness, not even noticing when the flames disappeared. "You do remember which bottle grants safe passage, do you not?" Harry nodded numbly. "Then wait here." Quirrell spun on his heel and entered the potion room, the flames springing up behind him.

Harry remained where he was, unable to move. Harry was sure, more than ever, that he and Ron wouldn't make it out of this alive. It would be easy to leave, make sure one of them would survive this whole ordeal. Ron might not even be alive.

Harry shook those thoughts out of his head. He was thinking too much like Malfoy. Being Slytherin meant he should think things through, but he wasn't going to desert Ron, either. Harry needed to snap out of it and figure out a plan. He asked himself, what would Ron and Greengrass do? He didn't have a wand. The only weapon in the room was the troll's club, which was far too large for Harry to carry.

Harry's contemplation was interrupted by the flames vanishing. Harry stepped forward, pausing inside. He searched the room, hoping to see something that could help. The only thing in the room was the table and the bottles on it.

Struck by inspiration, Harry headed over to the table. He looked at the parchment, properly reading the riddle for the first time. He glanced at the bottles, not sure which ones had poison in them. He didn't have time to figure out which ones did. Even if he did, he doubted there was a way to get Quirrell to take any, if Harry could bring himself to do that. Instead, Harry grabbed two bottles, emptying them of their contents. He stuffed them in his pockets. Hopefully he would could use them as weapons. Harry drank from the smallest bottle, heading through the purple flames.

As Harry entered the next room, he did his best to prepare himself for whatever he might see. It took Harry a few seconds to understand exactly what he was looking at. Having been expecting the worst, Harry was confused to find that nothing had really happened.

Ron was sitting off to the side, unable to move because of the thick black ropes keeping him in place. "You can join your friend." Quirrell instructed, creating the same ropes to wrap around Harry.

"Are you alright, Ron?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Fine." Assured that his friend was alright, Harry took stock of the room. The only object in the room was a tall mirror. Upon closer inspection, Harry realized that it was the Mirror of Erised.

Quirrell was pacing in front of it, muttering to himself, "Where is it? I can see myself presenting it to my master, but I can't find it."

Voldemort's voice spoke up once more, "Use Potter."

"Come here, Potter," Quirrell commanded. The ropes around Harry loosened, permitting him to stand up. He glanced at Ron, who seemed to be trying to communicate something. Ron kept glancing down at his lap, but Harry wasn't sure what he was trying to say. Despite his confusion, Harry did his best to give Ron a reassuring look. He crossed the room, stopping in front of the mirror.

Rather than look in the mirror, Harry took a deep breath before pulling one of the bottles from his pocket. Harry leapt at Quirrell, swinging the bottle at his face. Quirrell flinched back, and the bottle merely glanced off the side of his head. Harry clutched the other bottle, preparing for another attack, but he was suddenly bound in thick, black ropes once more, the bottle slipping from his grasp. Harry crashed to the ground, landing heavily on his side.

"That was stupid, Potter," Quirrell touched his cheek, where Harry had hit him. It was beginning to swell, and would probably bruise.

"Leave him alone," Ron yelled.

"Silence!" Everyone froze as Voldemort's voice rang throughout the room. Harry had forgotten that Voldemort was there. "Let me speak to him."

"Master, you're not strong enough."

"Do not question me, Quirrell. He has heard my voice, but it is time he saw what I have become."

"Yes, master." Quirrell reached up, unwrapping his ever present turban. Once it was off, Quirrell turned around to reveal that there was another face on the back of his head. Harry stiffened at the sight, and he could hear Ron gasp from behind him. Harry had figured out that Quirrell must somehow being housing Voldemort's spirit, but he had not guessed that Voldemort would be living on the back of Quirrell's head.

"Hello, Harry Potter. Do you see what has become of me? Forced to depend on others merely to survive." Harry felt horror rise in his chest as his scar prickled at every word spoken. "I need the stone, so that I can be restored to my full strength. You should have simply helped me. It was foolish to think you could stop me. Quirrell, teach young Harry why he it is unwise to make an enemy of me. Use his friend."

"Yes, master." Quirrell turned his wand toward Ron, who had been struggling to reach Harry. "Crucio." Harry didn't have time to wonder what spell was being used, when Ron began screaming.

"Stop, stop! Please stop!" Harry begged, but Quirrell did not let up for several minutes. Harry's shouted pleas mixing with Ron's pained screams.

"Now, Potter, you will look in the mirror, and not cause any more problems." Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off Ron, who was lying limply and panting. The ropes vanished, "Then get the stone."

Harry once more found himself standing in front of the Mirror of Erised. He looked into the mirror, seeing himself. On closer inspection, Harry could see that he was holding the stone, offering it to Quirrell, who let Harry and Ron leave with no further injuries.

"What do you see?" Quirrell was losing his patience.

"I see myself, giving you the stone, but I'm not sure where it is."

"You lie," Quirrell screeched.

"I'm not. I don't know where it is!" Quirrell roared, gripping Harry's arm. There was a splitting pain in Harry's scar, causing him to cry out. He struggled to get away from Quirrell, who surprisingly let go.

The pain in Harry's head receded, clearing his vision enough to see that Quirrell was staring at his hands alarm. They were blistering before his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Voldemort roared, "Seize him!" Quirrell leapt forward, wrapping his hands around Harry's throat. Through his own pain, Harry could see Quirrell howling in agony, and Ron could be hear yelling in the background. Quirrell released Harry, but still kept him pinned. Quirrell's hands were burned, all shiny and red.

"I can't master! My hands!" By instinct Harry reached up, touching Quirrell's face. Quirrell-"ARRGH!"

Quirrell's face was burning as well, flinging himself off of Harry. Harry realized that Quirrell couldn't touch him, not with his bare skin. He could use this to his advantage, but he needed to get himself and Ron out of here. No help was coming, since no one knew where they were.

"KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" Voldemort shrieked. Quirrell raised his hand to perform a curse. Harry lunged, grasping Quirrell's forearm, wailing as the pain hit. Harry was almost blinded by his own pain, but he hung on, searching for his missing wand.

Quirrell's arm was wretched from his grasp. Harry felt himself falling into darkness, despair filling him as he realized all was lost. He and Ron would both die down here.

Quirrell and Ron's screams blurred together, and he could still hear Voldemort, "KILL HIM!" As everything faded away.

How was that!

Please review!