Chapter Twenty Five

"Here I come."

Harry walked forward. He went slightly rigid as he walked though the black flames. The flames licked at his body, yet he could not feel them. For a long moment be could see nothing but black fire, until he was on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was someone already there, just as he expected. And it wasn't even Snape.

It was someone certainly unexpected to him.

"You!" Harry gasped and gaped.

"Yes," said professor Quirrell.

He snapped his fingers and ropes sprang out of thin air. They wrapped themselves around Harry tightly.

"I- I thought --"

"It was Snape," Quirrell continued for him with a grin. His face was calm and triumphant. His voice held no stutter. "It was simply wonderful the way Severus would stalk up and down the halls, terrifying students to no end. Simply superb. It was perfect. No one would suspect p-poor stu-stuttering professor Qui-quirrell with that overgrown bat lurking around!"

Harry just could not take it.

"B-but Snape hates me! He would be the one to want me dead, not you!"

Quirrell chuckled. "Queerly, no. Snape does not want you dead. Now I, on the other hand, do."

Harry just couldn't believe that. Snape didn't want him to die?? With another snap of his fingers the ropes around Harry tightened.

"Your just too nosy to live, Harry Potter... Especially when you and your three little friends were scurrying around on Halloween the way you did. For all I knew you all could have seen me come to look at what was guarding the stone."

The troll suddenly became clear to Harry.

"You. You let the troll in!"

"Of course I did. You must have seen what I did to the other one as you made your way here? ... I have a special gift with trolls, you see. Unfortunately, Snape, who already suspected that I was up to no good, went straight to the third floor to head me off. Not only did the troll fail to beat you, Ronald Weasley, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger to death --" he sighed, "That three-headed beast didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly."

Quirrell suddenly turned his back to Harry. With one last look over his shoulder, the man spoke to the boy.

"Now shut your gob, Potter. I need quiet to examine this interesting mirror."

It was only then that Harry realised what was standing before Quirrell. It was a large mirror.

"In order to find the Stone," Quirrell was murmuring to himself, setting his hands onto the glass and examining it, "This mirror is key... Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this... but he's in London, bloody fruit cake... I'll be far away by the time he gets back..."

All Harry could think of was to come up with something that would keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror.

"I can't believe Snape doesn't want me dead!" Harry announced. Actually he really did mean this. "With the way he treats me and all, I wouldn't think anything other."

"Yes" Quirrell said idly, "Severus Snape is a very peculiar man. He's been trying to keep you out of trouble the whole year, you know. I wouldn't put it past him if he had someone tailing you at certain times... Issues, that man has."

The man walked around to the back of the mirror and then he walkled back to the front. Quirrell stared hungrily at it.

"I see the Stone... and I'm presenting it to my master... Where the hell is it?!"

All the while, Harry struggled with the ropes binding him. They did not give. He just had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror.

"I saw you," Harry said loudly, "You and Snape. Snape was threatening you and you were sobbing..." Like a little wimp, Harry thought to himself.

For the first time, a small spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face.

"Sometimes," he said softly, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions... He is such a great wizard... and I am weak..."

Harry was confused.

"You mean," he aid weakly, "he was there in the corridor with you?"

"He is with me where ever I go," Quirrell voice was ever so soft, but it seemed loud as it echoed in the cavernous chamber. "I met him when I was traveling the world. I was such a foolish young man... Full of ridiculous ideas of good and evil..."

His voice suddenly became strong and firm. "Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to have and seek it..."

Harry suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

"Since then, I have faithfully served my master. Though I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly. "My master does not forgive mistakes easily. He was most displeased when I failed to steal the stone from Gringott's. He told me he would have to keep a closer watch on me... and then he punished me..."

Quirrell's voice trailed away, but then he cursed under his breath.

"I don't understand... is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"

At that point, Harry mind was racing. He that at that moment what he wanted more in the world was to find the Stone before Quirrell. He just did not know how. Harry then tried to edge to the left to get a good look at the mirror without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tightly wound. He grunted as he tripped and fell over.

Quirrell merely ignored him. He was still talking to himself.

"Please, Master! Help me!"

Harry did not like the sound of that and to his horror, a voice answered.

And the voice seemed to be coming from Quirrell himself.

"Use the boy ... Use the boy..."

Quirrell turned sharply at and glared down at Harry, who was still on the stone floor.

"Yes," Quirrell hissed in agreement. He barked out, "Potter! Come here."

He clapped his hands once and the ropes holding Harry fell away. Harry scrambled to his feet and looked at the crazed man in apprehension.

"Come here," repeated Quirrell. "Do us all a favor, Potter and look into the mirror."

Harry walked toward him all the while thinking, I mustn't tell the truth. Lie, I must lie about what I see! It's simple!

Quirrell moved close behind him. Harry wrinkled his nose as he breathed in a funny smell that seemed to be coming from Quirrell's turban. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he opened them again.

He looked into the mirror. And he was surprised, at first.

Harry saw his reflection, pale and scared looking at first. But then after a moment, his reflection-self smiled at him. The reflection raised a hand, placed it into it's pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked, grinned and then set the Stone back into it's pocket -- and as it did, Harry felt something heavy drop into his real pocket.

Astonishingly - incredibly - Somehow, he'd gotten the Stone.

Quirrell sounded impatient. "Well? What do you see? Tell me!"

Screwing up his courage, Harry answered.

"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he lied. "I've won the house cup for Gryffindor."

Cursing, Quirrell pushed Harry out of the way. As Harry moved away, he felt the heavy Stone against his leg. Did he dare make a break for it?

He had not even walked a few paces before a high voice spoke up, though Quirrell was most definitely not moving his lips.

"He lies... He lies..."

"Come back here, Potter!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?!"

The eerie voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to him ... Face-to-face..."

Quirrell wrung his hands and he whimpered, a look of almost caring desperation crossed his face. "Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough... for this...," the voice answered.

It was almost as if the Devil's Snare was rooting him to the spot. Harry could not move a muscle. Absolutely petrified, he watched as Quirrell reached up to his turban and began to unwrap it.

Where there should have been the back to Quirrell's head, there was a gruesome face. The most terrible looking face that Harry had ever seen. It was a pasty, chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, just like a snake.

Harry would have screamed, but he was to petrified to do so.

"Harry Potter..." it whispered.

Harry stumbled. He tried to move away from it but his legs were like jelly.

"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor ... I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... Now... why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket."

So he knew. Feelings was beggining to surge back into his unresponsive legs and he stumbled backward.

The face snarled. "Don't be a fool, Potter. Better save your own life and join me... Or you'll meet the same end as your parents... they died begging me for mercy..."

Harry saw red. This was Voldemort. This ugly face attached to the back of Quirrell's head, was Voldemort... He killed his parents.

"LIAR!" Harry shouted.

Quirrell was now walking backward at him, so that Voldemort could still see the boy. Voldemort smiled.

"How touching..." it hissed. "I always valued bravery...

"Yes, boy. Your parents were brave... You father, I killed first; and he put up such a courageous fight... but your mother, she needn't have died... she was trying to protect you... Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain, boy."

"NEVER!"

Harry sprang toward the flame door, but Voldemort shrieked "SEIZE HIM!" and the next second, Harry felt a hand clamp onto his wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry's scar. His head felt as if it would split in two. Harry yelled and struggled with all of his might to get away from Quirrell and Voldemort, and to his surprise Quirrell let go of him.

The pain in his head instantly lessened and he looked around wildly at Quirrell. The man was hunched over in pain, gaping at his fingers. They were blistering before his eyes!

Voldemort shrieked again. "SEIZE HIM! SEIZE HIM!"

Quirrell lunged at Harry, knocking him off of his feet, landing on top of him. His hands wrapped around Harry's neck and Harry's scar began to blind him with pain. Quirrell howled in agony.

"Master!" Quirrell cried out desperately. "I cannot hold him! My hands! My hands!"

Quirrell let go of Harry's neck and stared, bewildered, at his hands. They looked to be burned raw, red and shiny.

"Just kill him, fool!" screeched Voldemort. "Be done! KILL HIM!"

Quirrell raised his wand to preform a deadly curse, but by sudden instinct, Harry reached up and grabbed on Quirrell's face.

"AAAARRRGGGHHH!"

The man rolled off of him, his face blistering. It was all very clear to Harry, very fast. Quirrell could not touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain and injury. His only chance would be to keep hold of Quirrell.

Harry scrambled to his feet and flung himself at Quirrell. He grabbed onto the man's arm and held on as tight as he could. The pain in his head was building as Quirrell screamed in agony.

He held on and squeezed his eyes tightly closed. Harry could hear Quirrell's terrible screams and Voldemort's yells of, "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!"

And he could hear other voice as well, maybe they were just in Harry's own head, but they were steadily becoming loud and clear.

"Harry! Harry!"

Quirrell suddenly gave a violent wrench from his grasp and Harry fell into darkness. It was as if he were falling into a never ending well. Down ... down ... down...

--

Four figures hurried down a Hogwart's corridor. Three adults and one child. Sirius Black, Remus J. Lupin were at front. Samantha and Abigail Black brought up the rear. Abigail, who was close to turning nine years old was in tears, and her mother, Samantha Black nee Warren was mostly certainly close.

'I'm a bad parent!' thought Samantha as they came across the doors of the infirmary of the school. 'How could I have just let Harry go through with this! I knew this would happen... but it didn't cross my mind that he would actually have to come close to death for him to become the victor.'

Sirius and Remus pushed the doors open and entered. Almost all of the infirmary beds were empty, except for one at the very end, closest to the medi-witch's office. Surrounding the lone bed were many baskets of sweets and cards. Get-well presents from friends, they supposed.

Samantha, who held her daughter Abigail's hand in her own, rushed forward. She stopped in front of the bed and looked upon Harry's sleeping face. There was not a single speck of anything on him. His face was slightly pale, but all in all, he looked to be fine.

Relief began to flood her being as she let a choking sob. A gentle tug at her hand succesfully got her attention and Samantha looked down at her almost nine year old daughter.

Abigail smiled up at her mother.

"It's okay, mommy," Abigail said as she began to hug her mother around the middle. "Harry's okay."

Sirius brushed by Samantha, giving her elbow a gentle squeeze before he occupied the chair beside Harry's bed. He smoothed out a wrinkle of Harry's blanket and then leaned back into his chair, content to just stay quiet and stare at the eleven year old boy. Samantha and Remus reckoned that Sirius had the idea to stay that way until Harry decided to wake up.

Abigail sat in her father's lap, comfortable and also content to follow her father's example. Sirius wrapped her arms around his little girl and place his chin at the top of her head.

Samantha smiled fondly at the two before she sat in the chair on the other side of Harry's bed. Remus stood behind her. He picked up a card and skimmed through, a hesitant smile on his lips, but it soon disappeared and was replaced with sheer sadness.

"Good afternoon, everyone."

Four heads immediately shot up. Albus Dumbledore walked toward them from the med-witch's office. His smiling face gave them hope. He stopped directly in front of Harry's bed and his smile widened, his eyes twinkling like diamonds.

"Good afternoon to you also, Harry."

The four heads turned at break neck speed to get a look at the boy in the bed. Harry eyes blinked for a moment. He reached to the small bedside table and grabbed his glasses. Once he set them onto the his face he blinked around at all his company.

"Mom? Dad?" he asked, "What are you guys doing here? And Uncle Moony and Abby, too?"

His eyes suddenly widened when they landed on Dumbledore. Harry stared for a moment. Then he remember.

"Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! --"

"Harry calm down --"

"Take it easy cub!"

"Pup, it's alright!"

Dumbledore also spoke up. "Calm yourself, dear boy."

His smile reassured Harry. "Quirrell does not have the Stone, Harry."

"The who does? Sir, I --"

"Harry, please relax," Dumbledore asked of him with amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Madam Pomfrey will surely have me thrown out if you or your family become too riled up."

Samantha stood from her chair and sat at the edge of Harry's bed. She tucked the corners of the blanket under his and made sure he was warm enough. Harry had begun to look at his surroundings.

He seemed to be trying to figure out why half of Honeyduke's candy shop was piled around him.

"Gifts from your friends," Sirius said from the other side of him. Abigail was unwrapping one of his chocolate frogs.

"And admirers," added Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened down in the chambers between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows."

Remus and Sirius chuckled. Harry smiled slightly.

"I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a school toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey on the other broomstick, felt it very unhygienic, thus, it was confiscated."

Abigail was the only one who looked very interested in the school toilet.

Harry turned to Samantha. "How long have I been here?"

"Three days," Samantha answered softly, "Sirius, Remus and I have been in the school since we got the news."

Remus nodded from behind her. Harry noticed that his eyes were grim.

"We've only left to have meals in the Great Hall and go back to the cottage for sleep, he said.

Sirius smiled from his seat. "It felt as if we were back in school again, eh, Moony?"

Remus returned the smile reluctantly.

"Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved," Dumbledore spoke up. "They have been extremely worried."

Harry nodded, he hoped he would be able to have a visit with his three friends. Though he did wonder, was Draco not worried about him? Of course he must be back at the castle by now. Harry was most certainly sure that a family meeting would never take longer than three days. At least he hoped so.

There was still something that bothered him though.

"But, what about the Stone --"

Dumbledore looked amused. "I see that you not to be distracted. Very well. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that."

"Thank god," Samantha muttered under her breath.

"Although," Dumbledore said, "You were doing very well on your own, I must say."

"You got there then?" Harry asked. "You got Hermione's owl?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, "We must have crossed in midair. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you."

Harry suddenly realized. "It was you. You were the one calling my name."

Dumbledore nodded. "I feared I might be too late."

"You nearly were," said Harry, "I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer --"

"Not the Stone, Harry," Samantha said giving him a loving look. "The effort involved nearly killed you!"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, and as for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" asked Harry blankly. "But your friend! What about Nicolas Flamel?"

"Oh!" Dumbledore was pleasantly delighted. "You know about Nicolas? You did do the research properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat and agreed it's all for the best."

Harry looked amazed. "But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"

They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."

Dumbledore smiled down at Harry. "To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

"You know," Remus said from his position behind Samantha's chair. "The Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want... The two things most human beings would choose above all. The trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

"Wise words, young Remus," praised Dumbledore with a beaming smile.

Remus pinked at the ears as Harry lay there, lost for words.

"I believe I shall take my leave now," said Dumbledore. "I shall leave you to your family, Harry."

They all watched as the headmaster walked out of the infirmary, humming to himself all the while. There was comfortable silence for a moment.

"He's barmy."

"Abigail Lily!"

Abigail pouted. "Mum, but he is! The headmaster is barmy, right daddy?"

"I'm afraid Abbys' right, Sam," sighed Sirius from his seat, "That seasoned old fruit cake is most definitely barmy."

"Too right you are," chimed in Remus, though quietly, "I had almost forgotten just how much after all these years."

"Dad?" asked Harry, "Can I ask you a question?"

Sirius smirked. "You already did, pup."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I've been thinking... Even if the Stone is gone, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, right? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"

His smirk faded and he grimaced. "No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere. Not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. Perhaps he is looking for another body to share."

"There is still something else I want to know. Why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

"Your mother died to save you, Harry," said Remus from behind Samantha. He understood the situation very well. "If there is one thing that Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves it's own mark."

Samantha took over. "To have been loved so deeply, even though the loved one is gone, will give us some protection forever. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

"Okay, now just one more..."

"Oh, Harry you need to rest... Go on then."

"How did I get the Stone out of that mirror?"

Harry took notice of the look his mum and dad shared.

"Well," said his dad, "from what Dumbledore told us, the mirror that you retrieved the Stone from is called the Mirror of Erised. Also known as the Mirror of Desire. When you look into it the mirror will show you your greatest desire."

Harry was in awe. "That's wicked!"

"Now, don't misunderstand me, Harry. It will not give you your greatest desire, it will only show it to you. Dumbledore had charmed it in a way that when a person who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it- would be able to get it. A person who wanted to use the Stone would only see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life."

Abigail's eyes widened. "Barmy, but genius!"

They all chuckled for a moment and settled into another comfortable silence. Harry laid back into the infirmary bed and sighed. He was most certainly ready to go back to sleep.

"Harry!"

Ron and Hermione bounded into the infirmary. Approaching his bed and family, Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him. She refrained herself, though.

"Hello everyone."

Ron merely ignored the rest of the family. "The whole school is talking about it, Harry!"

"Oh, Harry we were sure you were going to - Dumbledore was so worried -"

"And not just about you either, mate -"

Harry was puzzled. "What do you mean? And where's Draco?"

Hermione and Ron then shared a look. Their eyes were saddened and Hermione's lip trembled. His mother set a hand on his own.

"Something has happened," she said sadly. "Three days ago, when Draco had left with his mother to meet Lucius for a family meeting... Well, they disappeared."

Harry's face paled.

"The meeting never took place, cub," Remus said. His eyes were sad and his voice was raspy. "The aurors believe that they were abducted by Lucius' old death eater friends. Not just Narcissa and Draco, but also Lucius. His blood was found at what they believe to be the scene of the crime. Excuse me for a moment."

They all watched as Remus walked quickly out of the infirmary, looking back only once. Sirius place Abigail on her feet before he too stood.

"Excuse me," he said. He gave Harry a wink and kissed Samantha on the cheek before following Remus Lupin out the door.

"As you might have already known, Harry," Samantha began when Sirius had closed the infirmary behind him. "Remus and Narcissa had started a relationship in the Christmas holidays. I believe that he was also very fond of Draco, but I am not quite sure. Obviously, the relationship has been cut short."

Hermione gave a whimper and Samantha opened her arms to the girl. Greatful, Hermione accepted a hug and laid her head upon Samantha's shoulder. Abigail patted Hermione on the back.

"Don't worry," Abigail said to them all, "I'm very sure that both Narcissa and Draco will be found. I have no doubt about it... I'm Abby, by the way. I'm Harry's sister."

Both Harry and Ron wiped away stray tears before the girls would see them. Harry smiled slightly.

"I do, too, Abby," he said, "I do, too. Thanks Abby."

Abigail nodded her head. "They're just lost is all. They'll find their way back home from where ever they were taken to."

--

Remus J. Lupin sat in the professor's section of the Hogwart's quidditch stands. He reclined back into the seat behind him and closed his eyes. With his heightened hearing and smelling, he noticed and recognized the familiar person who approached slowly.

"'lo, Padfoot," he acknoledged without opening his eyes.

"'Sup, Moony," was Sirius' answer.

Sirius sat beside him.

"As you must already know," Sirius began, "I have come out here to comfort you.

Remus chuckled. "Smooth, Padfoot."

"Why, thank you."

They fell into comfortable silence before Sirius spoke up again.

"They're going to be found. Don't you worry 'bout it."

Frowning, Remus opened his eyes to get a look at Sirius. Sirius had his elbows on his knees, his chin in his palm. The animagus was looking out onto the quidditch field.

"I feel helpless, Padfoot," whispered Remus, "I-I don't know what to do."

Sirius turned his head and his eyes gleamed as he looked at his werewolf best friend.

"I do," said Sirius. "Repeat after me, Moony. It's just one word."

"And it is?"

"Recon."

--

The Feast the next day had been very eventful. Dumbledore had award one hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor. It had catapulted them to first place for the house cup, with Slytherin in second, Ravenclaw in third and Hufflepuff in fourth. Throughout the Great Hall whispers of the Malfoy family's disappearance was everywhere.

His parents, Remus and Abigail had left the following day and had opted to meet him on the platform instead of escorting him home. Their wardrobes had been emptied and their trunks were packed. Notes had been given to students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays.

Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across he lake. On the train they pulled off their wizard robes and put on their jackets and coats.

It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. They had to be let out through the barrier in twos and threes so they did not attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the muggles.

"You must come and stay at Ottery St. Catchpole this summer," said Ron to Hermione, "Harry and I will send you an owl every week."

"Please do," said Hermione, "Keep me updated on Draco and his mum and dad, also."

As their family approached them, Harry took one last look at train before facing back to the barrier.

"You ready to go, pup?" asked Sirius as he took Harry's trunk.

Harry nodded. "Let's get home."

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this fiction. The sequel will be up in no time. -- JMMendiola