CHAPTER 24:

THROUGH THE TRAPDOOR

Harry cursed himself for being so stupid as to follow his friends here. He knew something was wrong, but they had told him someone had gotten injured by Quirrell while trying to stop him from stealing the Stone. And then, he found Quirrell himself there. And his friends under his control.

With his friends controlled by Quirrell, Harry had no choice but to wait and see what happened. He didn't want his friends to be killed. But it didn't mean that he was going in without any warning to any others.

As Quirrell prepared to kill Fluffy, Harry spoke to Jenova. Jenova, Quirrell's making his move. Ron and Hermione are under some sort of control, probably the Imperius. He has my Materia, and he's using it to kill Fluffy.

Jenova's voice came back down the connection. Okay. I have three bodies in this castle. I'm going to fetch Aerith and Cait Sith. Dumbledore's gone to the Ministry, but I'll go and see if I can persuade Fawkes to fetch him. I'll get any staff members I can rouse. Meanwhile, I've got two bodies in the obstacle course leading up to the Stone. My challenge is basically to beat one of my monster forms. I'll throw the fight there, in case he decides to use you as a meat shield. I have another body guarding the Stone. Hold on until then, and don't piss him off.

Harry finished speaking with her in time to see Fluffy's last moments, drowning from the effects of Aqua Breath, before Quirrell incinerated the Cerberus' corpse. For all its monstrosity, Harry felt a pang of sadness at the massive dog's passing, and an even stronger surge of anger at Quirrell.

After he was shoved through the trapdoor, he landed on something soft…something that began to writhe and constrict around him, and his brainwashed friends. In the dim light, he could barely see that it was a plant of some kind. Quirrell floated down, looking down at them as he hovered, just above the writhing tendrils of the plant. "My, my, Devil's Snare. Lethal, to one who is unprepared. But no obstacle to a trained wizard. Sprout must've been afraid of actually hurting someone." He smirked down at Harry. "Now, should I leave you to die here and now? No, no, I may need you as fodder." He clicked his fingers, and flames suddenly burst into life above the plant. It cringed, and shrank away, releasing them.

Harry and his controlled friends got to their feet. Quirrell escorted them down a stone passageway. Suddenly, with a shriek and a roar of unearthly fury, a creature surged down the corridor towards them. Harry recognised it as a smaller version of the Jenova creature Sephiroth had sicced on them in the deepest depths of the Crater, a massive hollow globe of flesh, with a feminine figure on the front, and waving tendrils.

"Ah, this must be Professor Calamitas' obstacle," Quirrell said, almost conversationally. He then tapped the Materia on his wrist. "Shadow Flare!" he yelled.

The creature shrieked as it seemed to flare from positive to negative, and dissolved into a gooey mess. "Well…I expected something more challenging," Quirrell murmured, wrinkling his nose from the stink erupting from the mephitic puddle.

Harry's gaze flickered over to Quirrell, but he refrained from saying anything, to Quirrell, anyway. To Jenova, he asked, Are you all right?

Yes. That was highly unpleasant, all the same. Normally, I would have made a better effort to tear this guy apart, but he's got you, and besides, these obstacles are meant to be a lure. Okay, I've got Aerith, Snape, McGonagall, and Flitwick. Cait Sith's already on his way to the door, and I've sent Fawkes to get Dumbledore. We'll be there shortly. I know you can't risk delaying him too much, but every moment counts.

He charmed the door after he closed it. It might not open easily.

Don't worry. If I have to, I'll blast it open with Ultima. I'm also waiting in the room with the Stone. Hold on.

By this point, they had reached a new chamber, a large one that was brightly lit, and filled with birds. No, not birds, Harry realised. They were too shiny and oddly-shaped for that.

Quirrell strode to the door on the other side, and said, "Alohamora!" When the door refused to open, he frowned, and checked it with some sort of spell. "Well, at least Flitwick knows how to charm a door shut." He then waved his hand. "Accio Key!" Once more, nothing happened, and he smiled bitterly. "No, I don't suppose it would be that easy." He noted the broomsticks in the corner. "Potter, find the key. I'm sure your Seeker reflexes will be useful. And no tricks."

In the final room of the gauntlet, Jenova was perched, as hidden as she could be, in the ceiling, amongst the rafters. The Mirror of Erised was down below, and the sealing array ready to entrap Voldemort's spirit…assuming it would work. Dumbledore may be a master sealer, but Voldemort was powerful and tenacious. Trapping Voldemort within the Mirror was a best-case scenario. Hopefully, even if Voldemort did escape, his power would be weakened.

That being said, Jenova was not along in the rafters of the room. An elegant man with white hair and proud, youthful features was sitting above as well. "And so, the endgame begins," he murmured.

Jenova gave him a glance. "This isn't a game. Harry and his friends' lives are at stake."

"I know. And so too is the fate of the world, Jenova. In any case, the time has probably come for me to fade from this world. The vultures and hyenas keep circling, and they would not believe the true nature of the Stone, or else try to exploit it should they find out." The man looked down into the chamber. "Your child is a remarkable boy."

"He is not my child."

"Not by birth, but he carries your cells and thus your legacy, and I can see the maternal feelings you have for him, regardless of his actual parentage. Certainly better, from what I understand, than Sephiroth. To have faced such perils at his age, and come out sane…it's an astonishing feat. And he managed what many would have considered impossible, turning the Calamity from the Skies into a Goddess once more. Well, that wasn't all him, but still…without him and the others beginning to treat you as a person, and not as a monster, would you be here?"

"Probably not," Jenova conceded. "And you are right…I do view him as a son. More of a son to me than Sephiroth. And Voldemort will rue the day that he decided to target him. Prophecy or no prophecy, Voldemort will suffer long before he dies."

Nicholas Flamel, perched next to Jenova in her station, shrugged. "Just warn me before you actually do anything. I'm not really fond of witnessing prolonged torture and suffering, and I'd prefer not to lose my very expensive dinner."

Jenova rolled her eyes. "I might not do that, if only to be entertained by one like you vomiting. It would be amusing."

Jenova? We're on the chessboard. Quirrell's using us as chess pieces and directing us, Harry's voice came through their mental link.

Okay. Keep your wits about you. We know Quirrell will keep you alive until the last chamber if possible. If our suspicions about him are correct, his master's hitching a ride like a tick on a dog.

Reminds you of someone, hmm? Harry asked, wryly.

Jenova scowled when she realised Harry was having a dig at her expense. After all, not so very long ago, she was forced to live inside his body, and with much the same motives as Voldemort. Cheeky brat. Just don't provoke Quirrell the way you're provoking me.

I'll try not to. My friends' lives are at stake. That bastard is going to try and have my friends kill themselves.

If Aerith heard such language, she'd make you wash your mouth out for emulating Cid or Barrett. But you're right. Keeping your friends safe is the priority. I'm in the final chamber with an ally. When you come in, keep him occupied. We need to trap him. Don't worry about the sealing array on the Mirror, it's not keyed to you or to your friends. But it'll take time to activate once he's in range.

Okay. Play for time, and then, hopefully, the bad guy gets trapped. By the way, what's Aerith's obstacle?

Jenova chuckled. Well…we needed something that was relatively easy when you knew how to. And thanks to Reeve, we knew how to shield electronics from magic. Just after Halloween, Reeve had finished modifying what we wanted, which was a certain something from the Golden Saucer. I forgot, Harry, do you know how to play 'Mog House'?

Twenty minutes later, an incoherent howl of rage was emitted by Quirrell. He beat his fists angrily on the white plastic façade of 'Mog House', and it was all Harry could do to keep himself from laughing his head off. He was feeling particularly malicious towards Quirrell, given that Hermione was currently back at the chessboard, unconscious at the very least from a head wound. Said wound had been inflicted during the game, and he had been prevented from going to her aid. Jenova had told him, though, that her other body, along with Aerith and the others, weren't far behind. They were staying at least one room behind them, to make sure Quirrell didn't feel cornered, or else he might do something desperate. He was glad someone was looking after Hermione, and Jenova said that Snape would probably be the best person to remove the curse on Hermione.

"What is this…? I don't even…" Quirrell snarled, before breathing out, trying to calm himself. He had tried and failed to play the game a couple of times already. "How can Muggle electronics work within Hogwarts?"

"Special shielding from ambient magic," Harry replied. The arcade machine was connected to a door. Only by winning the game could it open.

"I was Muggle Studies teacher before I assumed the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts!" Quirrell snarled. "I know Muggles have machines like this, but how could they shield against magic?"

"Maybe you don't know everything about Muggles." A suggestion about how to explain it came from Jenova, one that wasn't quite true. "It's called EM shielding. Electromagnetic shielding. Magic creates an electromagnetic pulse, and that fries electronics."

Quirrell sniffed. "If you know so much about it, you play the damnable thing! And every time you get it wrong, I will have Mr Weasley use the Cruciatus curse on himself!"

Harry scowled, but went over to the arcade machine. He had played this at the Golden Saucer, and new that the trick was to feed Mog five Kupo Nuts the first time, and then three Kupo Nuts the second time. The trick was to listen to Mog. If his belly rumbled, he needed more Kupo Nuts. If he squeaked, he was full.

The game took a while to play through, and Quirrell was getting increasingly impatient. But eventually, the game's credits rolled, and the door opened. Quirrell then used a Blasting Curse on it. The shielding didn't protect it against the blast, turning it into a pile of plastic and metal.

"Ridiculous, conceited thing," Quirrell sneered.

Thankfully, Quirrell didn't use either him or Ron as guinea pigs for the Potions puzzle. Harry had to admit, Snape did have a way with poetry, and his logic puzzle was good. Harry would have taken a long time to get it, though he was sure that Hermione would have done it swifter than Quirrell.

And then, they were in the chamber where the prize awaited. The Mirror of Erised, and within it, according to Jenova, the Philosopher's Stone.

Quirrell, with a gesture, caused the entrance to the chamber to become wreathed in magical flames. He then snapped his fingers, and Harry was bound in ropes. "There, now we have time until I can get a hold of the Stone."

"For your master," Harry snarled quietly. "Why do you help him?"

A brief spasm of fear crossed Quirrell's features, before he recomposed himself. "Because I was weak. I sought him out because I was seen as weak. And I didn't want to be seen as weak anymore. I was foolish, then. Filled with ridiculous ideas of good and evil. But Lord Voldemort showed me that there is only power, and those who are too weak to seek it…"

"Wrong," Harry said. "It's what you do with power that counts. Do you destroy? Or protect?"

"Be careful with your insolence, Potter, or I might just order Mr Weasley to inflict the Cruciatus Curse on himself," Quirrell sneered. As he turned to the Mirror again, he said, "I am impressed that you even think about such things at a young age. You have the eyes of a soldier. And I know that antediluvian fossil Dumbledore would not have trained you that way. He is altogether too soft, and slow to anger."

"Maybe, but he's still powerful."

Jenova's voice came to him. Try not to provoke him too much. The sealing array is almost active, but I don't want to risk him commanding Ron to kill himself. I've managed to find Hermione, and I'm unravelling the curse on her, but it's hard work. This bastard's good at what he did. And I don't want to attack him just in case he commands Ron to commit suicide.

Quirrell merely scoffed. "Nothing, next to my master." He began mumbling to himself as he looked into the Mirror. He could see himself possessing the Stone, but he couldn't get it. "Help me, Master!" he finally cried out.

"Use the boy…" hissed a reply, in a high-pitched rasp of a voice. It seemed to come from Quirrell's turban.

Quirrell whirled to face Harry, undid his ropes with a gesture, and grabbed him roughly, and placed him in front of the mirror. "Now, Potter, tell me what you see…"

Once more, Harry saw himself as a Jenova hybrid, surrounded by family and friends. The reflection, however, smirked, and pulled a blood red stone from his pocket, and then put it back. Harry felt something enter his pocket.

"I see myself surrounded by my friends and by my family," Harry said, making it a lie of omission.

Quirrell shoved him out of the way, only for the voice of Voldemort to speak again. "The boy lies. Quirrell…I want to speak to him…face to face…"

"Master, you are not strong enough…"

"Let me see him," Harry said, coldly. "I want to see the man who killed my parents…and threatened the lives of my friends."

A rasping chuckle sounded from within the turban. Then, Quirrell removed the turban, and turned his head, revealing a grotesque, ophidian face, with dark red eyes.

"Harry Potter…" Voldemort rasped.

"Voldemort…" Harry said, quietly. "It's nice to meet you again…face to face. A nice little Reunion."

Voldemort frowned at the slight emphasis on the word 'reunion'. But he smiled. "So, you see what I have become? Reduced to mere shadow and vapour? I have form only when I share the body of another."

"That must be…inconvenient," Harry said. "But you have plenty of followers. Plenty of people willing to let you hitch a ride."

"Fewer than you'd think," Voldemort hissed. "None of my so-called loyal Death Eaters tried to track me down."

"You can't find the help these days," Harry said, shrugging, emulating a little of Reno's nonchalant attitude.

"True enough. But our discussion can wait. You have the Stone in your pocket. Give it to me."

Harry brought it out, and when his fingers touched it, he frowned. He realised that it felt very familiar. And then, he realised why. "Wait, you mean this? The so-called Philosopher's Stone?"

"Yes."

"Well, there's a couple of reasons why I wouldn't give it to you. One, you murdered my parents, and you want to kill my friends. Two, the Stone is absolutely useless to you, at least as far as gaining immortality is concerned." He brought the Stone to eye-level, a blood-red stone. "This thing won't grant you immortality. It certainly wouldn't grant me immortality. It may be the property of an immortal, but it can't give it to anyone else."

"Cease this foolishness, Potter! You are undertaking another expedition into the realms of duplicity(1)!"

"I am not, Voldemort!" Harry yelled, triumphantly. "There is no Philosopher's Stone! This is a Summoning Materia!"

CHAPTER 24 ANNOTATIONS:

And there it is! The big secret behind the Philosopher's Stone! I'd been considering how it would work since I began thinking about the Philosopher's Stone and what it might actually be. I hope you like this twist.

I was actually struggling to come up with challenges for Jenova and Aerith to place. I decided Jenova would place a guardian monster (like a mini-version of Jenova SYNTHESIS), but it wasn't until the last minute that I came up with the 'Mog's House' idea for Aerith's challenge…and Quirrellmort's reaction to it.

1. I cribbed this line from the Borad in Doctor Who: Timelash. It's basically a fancy way of saying 'YOU LIE!'

CHAPTER 24 SOUNDTRACK:

Through the Obstacles: Underneath the Rotting Pizza (FTG)