Running the Gauntlet:

While academically the children had known for the better part of a year that there was a giant, three headed dog in this room, in Neville's case had many recountings of its description from his dorm mates, and even researched it in the library, seeing it in the flesh still brought them up short.

It was quite hard to see, as the only light came in from the corridor behind them, but Fluffy looked to be about five meters long or so, not including the tail. The dark coat blended into the shadows so well that the first years had to take a moment to find its entire outline. Harry's first reaction was that it didn't look that much like a dog, as the additional head required longer necks and broader shoulders than its mundane cousins. The heads, however, were undoubtedly canine, short and blunt like a mastiff. Thanks to the enchanted harp still letting out its sweet melody the great beast was fast asleep, snoring gently as its chest rose and fell.

Thankfully the great iron ring bolted to it made finding the location of the trapdoor easy. Unfortunately it was partially covered by one great paw.

"Do you think it will notice if we move it?" Neville asked in a whisper.

"Hopefully not, but given that that harp has been getting quieter this entire time, I suggest we make the choice quickly, we might not have long until the enchantment winds down." Susan murmured back. "I'll grab one side, Harry, you get the other. We only have to slide it off the door."

With exaggerated movements the children tiptoed up to the sleeping creature and half lifted, half dragged the paw to the side. Then Neville grabbed the ring and pulled up. The size and weight meant that this was not easy for the eleven year old, so once it had risen a few inches Padma squatted down and grabbed the rim. And then immediately let go and looked at her hands.

"Ugh, filthy."

"Well you can find Filch and complain to him." Harry commented and all four of them dissolved into giggles. This caused Neville to drop the door, which slammed shut with a bang. The giant dog shifted behind and they all sprang into action. Grabbing on to whichever part they could reach they collectively hauled the door open and piled through with their eyes fixed firmly on the stirring guard. That meant that they didn't see that they were jumping into a black pit.

After a moment of terrifying freefall they landed with a muffled squelch on something soft. Soft and damp. Soft and damp and moving.

"Um, guys?" Padma asked. "What is this?"

Finally tearing his attention away from the muffled growling coming from up above Harry placed a hand on the ground next to him to try and feel around only for something to grab his wrist.

"Hey! Something's got me!"

He wasn't the only one.

"Ah, my leg!"

"I can't sit up!"

Finally someone managed to get a hand on their wand. "Lumos."

Blinking away the sudden light, it was evident that they were sitting on, or more accurately partly in, a carpet of slow moving tentacles of vines. After a shocked moment to process the scene, Neville shouted "Stop! Don't move!"

"You know how I always read those Herbology books." Nods all round. "Well I think I recognise this, it is Devil's Snare. It is a plant, it can't see us, only feel our movements. If we stay very still then it should think we are not alive and so not edible." At that last word Padma couldn't help but let out a squeak.

"Is there any way we can get rid of it?" Susan asked. "We are going to need to reach that door." She pointed ahead of them. "So we are going to sort of have to move."

"Um. Well, they prefer dark and damp environments, often found near underground water sources. I think the book said something about being careful that they don't dry out, so maybe fire? It might be able to sense heat and want to move away. `Don't just look at me, I can't reach my wand, someone else will have to."

Glancing around at each other Harry realised that he was the only one currently capable of magic. "Can someone put a light up as soon as they can and not move too much to start with, because I am going to have to put this out and it might get a bit hard to, you know, aim. Ok. Nox."

While they had been taught a basic heating charm which produced blue coloured flames for use in Potions, however that was specifically designed to be difficult to burn things, so instead he chose a different spell.

One of the advantages of being a co-conspirator to Hagrid's impromptu 'dragon care club' was they had met and worked alongside several older students taking OWLs and even NEWTs in Care of Magical creatures. Obviously they were the ones that dealt with actual spell-work involved in raising a dragon, while Hagrid and the younger helpers focussed on what they could do physically. But they were perfectly happy to let some precocious first years watch, and perhaps give them some hints on mastering some of the spells early.

Remembering what the older student had instructed him, Harry pictured a fire in his head. Spending so much time around the roaring fires used to heat the castle's rooms made this significantly easier. There was the light, and the heat, and the feeling of constant, changing motion. Then he used bellows on that fire, causing it to flare up and lean in a direction. Keeping going he imagined the fire being pulled along a line, flowing and billowing down his arm. Just as he could swear he could feel the heat prickling the tips of his fingers, he flicked his wand through the movements and incanted: "Incendio!"

A tongue of flame leapt from the end of the wand to about half a meter in front of him. A dim and flickering strand of fire rather than a solid lance that the spell should produce, but it was enough. Immediately the devil's snare reacted, trying to tear itself away from him, almost causing Harry to drop his wand. It also loosened its grip on the others enough that they could slip free and scramble to their feet. Waving the fiery mass as close to his friends as he dared, Harry cleared a path to the door and swept the spell across the room behind everyone until they were all through and safe. Then he cut it off as Susan slammed the door shut.

"How did you know that spell?" Padma demanded at Harry, who was breathing heavily from the exertion. "We don't cover that until fourth year."

While they had already trusted Padma with a lot that evening, it was not just their secret to keep, so Neville just deflected with: "We got an older student to teach us." No need for her to know about its uses in dragon care.

"Well, what now." Susan asked, drawing their attention to the room around them. "Are we still in the school? Because someone must have noticed if somewhere this big suddenly was blocked off."

While they hadn't been able to see the full dimensions of the devil's snare's lair, they must have fallen quite a distance, and this room seemed to be a similar height, while being significantly larger on the floor as well, maybe about half that of the Great Hall. The shear volume of the room was made especially apparent by the flock of keys fluttering around. On the far wall was a plain wooden door, like the one they had just passed through, with a couple of beaten up brooms, by the look of it borrowed from the school's training collection, leaning against the wall next to it.

"I would assume that we need to find the correct key." Neville stated, squinting slightly to try and make them out. "Hey! Isn't that one flying oddly, like its wing is damaged."

"Which one?"

"That one on the edge of the group, gold coloured. Probably the one that Quirrell caught, so probably the one we need."

Without even asking the others Harry ran forward to grab a broom. Thanks to a bit of coaching from Remus both Neville and Susan were perfectly serviceable in the air, but it was Harry who seemed to have been born on a broom. Apparently his father had been the same. Before anyone else was even halfway across the floor he had kicked off and was already homing in on his target. Padma considered chasing after to help, but reasoned that even if Harry didn't have it by the time she caught up, two people would just get in each other's way.

The key seemed to have some basic charms on it to try and avoid pursuers, but with the damaged wings slowing it down it was no match for Harry, despite the slight wobbling of the broom. A jinx to the side wasn't enough to save it as Harry's unerring hand swiped it from the air. Touching down lightly, Harry jammed the key in the lock, twisted it and onwards the group went.

"Is it me, or is this really weird?" Padma asked. "I mean, the teachers have obviously gone to a lot of trouble for this. They kept a cerberus for an entire year in the school despite all of the parents' complaints, transplanted in some devil's snare, charmed what must have been a hundred or more keys to behave as snitches. Now this seems to be a giant chess set? Not to mention that while Hogwarts' structure can be quite … inconsistent. I refuse to believe it can hide several massive rooms in the first or second floors which are only accessible in a line from a single trap door. I bet the teachers made this place, like those tents. Why go to all this effort when the obstacles are so, are so…"

"Bad?" Susan filled in.

"Yes, I mean it may get harder as we go on, but seriously, we are four first years and we have cast a single spell so far. Even if this is a trap, wouldn't the headmaster have made it more believable?"

"Maybe he is actually just a bit batty?" Neville suggested. "I mean, being stuck in this castle for decades with nothing but students would make me do weird things. Just being in the same house as the Weasley twins is bad enough, let alone being responsible for making them behave."

"While this conversation is fascinating, can we focus on going forwards. Unless anyone wants to try and get back past Fluffy." Harry cut in.

"How would we even get up there? Except there are brooms already provided. Awfully convenient. Anyway, I assume we have to play our way across." Susan deduced, walking towards the row of giant black stone statues in front of them. The black king turned around to look at her. While they might be just life sized, it still towered over the little girl.

"Do we need to win to cross?"

The statue nodded.

"Um. How do we start?"

The king stepped off the board and gestured with one arm to the empty space. Susan nervously stepped into it. As soon as she put her second foot on the square, there was a loud scraping sound and one of the white pawns began to advance.

"Guys! Help! Have any of you been holding out with your chess skills?" Susan began to panic a bit. This looked like a fully scaled up wizarding chess board, including the animation, and possibly including the 'taking' animation, bludgeoning the other piece over the head and dragging their unresponsive body off the board. Those stone weapons looked positively deadly.

"It is alright Susan." Neville called from behind her. "Unless there is someone else playing this, you are playing against an enchantment. They are always terrible. As long as you don't make any terrible mistakes we should be fine. Play it safe, just advance the pawn. You know, standard opening.

A few minutes later and Susan was feeling much more confident, although everyone still flinched slightly whenever one of the pieces was smashed to the ground and then dragged off the board. Finally, after a series of exchanges, there was only the black queen and the rook on the board aside from the two 'kings' and it was all over. With the challenge completed the surviving statues stood aside and the way was clear.

"What is next?" Harry wondered. "I can imagine each of the teachers contributed to this. Fluffy was Hagrid, the devil's snare was Sprout, those keys just scream Flitwick, complex animation like those statues, especially that large, must have been McGonagall and … please tell me I don't recognise that smell."

While it had been nearly nine months ago by this point, that particular mixture of rotting plants, mould and raw sewage was not something easily forgotten for those who have had the horror of experiencing it.

"Well, I think we know where that troll on Halloween came from. Must have gotten loose when trying to bring it here or something. Maybe it was a spare they were keeping locked up in the dungeons." Susan commented.

"If Quirrell is going after it now, maybe he was back then as well." Padma suggested. "Maybe he deliberately released it as a distraction. He never followed the other teachers down to the dungeons because he was lying on the floor, but thinking back he must have disappeared soon after otherwise he would have been trampled."

The others considered this for a moment. "Nah." Disagreed Neville. "If he had been after whatever was here from the start, what was stopping him from swiping it when they were setting up the traps, he was obviously allowed in here. Also, do you think Dumbledore would have let a teacher stay for an entire year if they had deliberately released a troll into the school. He might pretend to be batty, but he isn't that stupid. Probably Voldemort got something on him during the year. Or he ran into whoever is actually going after it and couldn't get away. But that won't matter if we can't get past this troll. We still don't know any spells that could harm it and Harry's mum will ground him for life if he tries jumping on one again."

While he had been saying this, Harry had snuck up ahead to peer around the corner.

"Guys. The bad news is that there isn't just one troll, there are two of them. The good news is that Quirrell, or someone else, has already got to them. They aren't moving. I say we just run through."

While none of them wanted to linger, due to the stench alone, never mind the danger, they all tried to get a good look as they hurried past. Immobilising a troll was no trivial feat, especially for a lone wizard. There was a reason that trolls were sometimes trained as security guards. The way that the bodies were lying meant that they couldn't see much, but one of them definitely had its hands reaching for its neck, so maybe it had been some sort of throttling based attack?

With relief the children found out that there seemed to be some sort of invisible barrier they had passed through to get to the next room, so they could breath deeply again. That breath was suddenly released in a shout of surprise when both corridors leading out of the chamber they now found themselves in burst into flame. Not just any old fire either, the movement and behaviour of the dancing tongues just seemed off, let alone that the one ahead was jet black, seeming to draw in the surrounding light, whereas the way they had just come was filled with a cheery violet.

The only option they seemed to have of getting out of this presumably lay with the table against one wall. On it were a collection of bottles and a piece of paper. Picking it up Harry read it out to the group.

Neville was the first one to break the following stunned silence.

"Why? Why? Snape's challenge is a riddle written in rhyming couplets? What is wrong with these people? It doesn't even involve any magic! Is this entire thing some sort of practical joke to see what students try and break in? Because other than the trolls, which we may have been able to run past anyway, we can do it and we are first years! If Quirrell is actually ahead then can't we just see which one has been drunk from?"

"Eh, they all seem half full." Said Susan, picking each bottle up to examine them. "Maybe they have refilling charms on, or extended volume, or just the level seen on the outside is faked. Given that the other traps seemed to reset however, I am going to say that it probably refills. Forget the riddle though. He could have put it back in any order. Your parents taught you charms for detecting alcohol and harmful potions right?"

The other three nodded. Even Padma's family, who didn't have the extra worry of pro-Voldemort fanatics to worry about, had made sure she knew them. In Hogwarts you needed to look after your own safety, and in a world where students were taught how to make poisons and love potions could be bought over the counter it was better to be careful. In addition the wizarding world was small enough that a single indiscretion, even if it was obviously a set-up, could dog you for the rest of your life. This was one area where Harry did know at least some of his family's spells, as James had made sure to teach them to Remus and Lily while they were all still in school.

"Well, everyone try them and we can compare the results. Better safe than sorry."

A bit of casting later and there was unanimous agreement for which ones were poison and which were wine. In this they were lucky that the poison was a potion, as the general harmful intent in the magic could be detected. Mundane poisons (although in higher doses to work on magicals) or mis-dosed or faulty 'beneficial' potions were much harder to identify. Having identified the potions that would allow them through each corridor, they turned back to the riddle and the one on the end would allow them through the purple flames, while the smallest bottle would send them forward through the black ones. Unless they had been moved around. Still, nothing to do but try.

Given the size of the bottle they assumed that it contained a single dose of potion to go onwards. They might be able to get away with less, especially as they were younger, magically weaker and smaller than the probably intended recipient, but walking through magical fire is not something you want to leave to chance. So they would have to go through one at a time and just hope the bottle refilled and did so quickly. After a short argument it was decided that Harry would go first under the invisibility cloak, as it worked best for him and so he was most likely to be able to remain unseen until someone else could come through to help. In case the flames behind weren't going to go away as long as somebody was in the room, it was decided that someone would have to drink the potion to go back and take the bottle with them. That would mean that if someone else was coming to help, perhaps a teacher who had been alerted that the traps had been activated, then they wouldn't be stuck in the troll room. Neville volunteered for this, as the brave Gryffindor and if anyone did come they would likely be furious at them.

Wondering if this was the last stage, or whether more challenges lay ahead, Harry took a deep breath. Quickly uncorking the potion and downing it in one go before the taste could make him gag, he put the bottle back down on the table, wrapped the cloak tight around him and tentatively poked a foot into the black fire. Nothing happened, so he boldly stepped forwards and walked through.

Lily had decided to treat herself to a lazy evening. While she wasn't employed by anyone, so was free to set her own hours as it were, she liked trying to keep to the structure of the working week, so Friday evenings were to kick back and relax. It was at times like this that she seriously considered getting the house wired up for a T.V.. As the house was mostly muggle, not some ancient pureblood manor where magic had been saturating the very air for centuries, it would probably work. Her day to day use of magic would probably degrade it quicker than normal, but as long as she avoided casting directly onto it it shouldn't be too bad. The set up would still be a lot of faff though. For the moment she was content to settle down on the sofa with an interesting book and a tumbler of whisky. Not firewhiskey, she was of the opinion that most of that stuff took far too much advantage of the lack of competition in the magical world.

Just as she was getting settled in there was a rustle of feathers and a polite bark. Looking up she saw Hedwig standing on the coffee table presenting a letter in her claw.

"Hello girl. Letter from Harry? I hope something awful hasn't happened with his exams, I would have thought that he would have waited until at least tomorrow to write to me about them and just have taken this evening off."

She reached over and took the parchment, smoothing it out on her knees. The message wasn't very long and had her immediately frowning and she began muttering to herself.

"What on earth is Dumbledore up to? I know I sent him a letter about what the centaurs told Harry. I would have thought the possibility of an agent of Voldemort being around the castle would have made him drop that silly charade, or at least kept a close eye on it. Given there is only about a week or so left of term I bet whoever it is will move tonight, Harry is right, they can't afford to wait. If I am reading this right they are going to try and stand watch. Except knowing Harry he will try and help again, even after that mess in the forest. I am going to have to go and sort this out aren't I."

She quickly tallied her options for getting to the castle. She couldn't apparate into Hogwarts. She couldn't even go to Hogsmeade, it was too far for her to manage in a single jump and she didn't know any intermediary places to break down the journey. Maybe something to work on another time. She would need to take her broom. She could maybe cut the journey by flying to the nearest wizarding pub and taking the floo through to the Three Broomsticks, but rushing through and flying up to the castle would raise a lot of questions she would rather weren't asked, even if nobody recognised her. She would just have to fly direct.

While she barely used it she did keep a travelling broom in the closet. While theoretically it was possible to double up with a child, she much preferred taking Harry in the car, but it was still nice to have the option. While it was no Quidditch or racing broom, what it lacked in short range acceleration and manoeuvrability it made up for in efficiency, comfortable seating and inbuilt concealment and warming charms. The sky seemed clear and there was little wind to speak of so she should be there in a few hours. Before she left she grabbed a few things just in case. The old coat she had worn when helping the Order. The protective charms would have mostly faded, but still better than nothing, would help keep off the evening chill and helped her get in the right mindset. Glowstones, effectively an activatable lumos charm in a glass sphere, equivalent of a magical torch while keeping your wand free. Magical first aid kit, hopefully Madam Pomphrey would be able to sort out anything major that happened, but it didn't hurt. Now, about that cerberus, Harry claimed that music should put it to sleep, but she wanted something more reliable. She trusted Remus fully of course, but she had agreed that it was better safe than sorry, if only for his peace of mind, so she opened up the magical stasis-charmed cooler box and lifted a raw steak from a special compartment at the bottom. Laced with enough canine tranquiliser potion to knock out a werewolf for an entire night, should do nicely. Fully prepared Lily set the guidance compass to Hogsmeade and kicked off.

It was a stiff and frankly quite fed-up Lily Potter who clambered off her broom onto a secluded fourth floor balcony. For all of the magic assisted comfort, long distance broom riding was not a hobby of hers for a reason. Dropping a couple of concealment charms around her, recently relearned from the Marauders' notes, she tucked the broom behind a tapestry to pick up later and set off.

Even though her last, and only brief, visit to the castle had been a decade ago, with her full time attendance being years before that, her adolescence of roaming these halls had left her with an intuitive understanding of the layout. In fact, one evening of reminiscing with Remus had actually caused them to suspect that sufficient exposure to the castle caused one's magic to develop an affinity such that the building itself would guide you where you wanted to go. It would explain how, despite the fact that even during her student days she barely ever came this way, but still instinctively knew that the closest staircase to take her to the third floor corridor was currently a reverse slide all the way up to the owlery, so instead she needed to shake the hand of a particular suit of armour and walk up the wall opposite.

Even with this slightly eclectic navigation, Lily was a woman on a mission and strode quickly through hallways, right past the dozing portraits and inattentive ghosts, determined to protect her son. Upon reaching the corridor she knew that something was wrong. The nest of cushions and empty sweet packets told her that the children had been here, but were no longer. Damn it! She knew this would have happened! Hopefully she wasn't too late.

It was obvious which way to go now. Not only was there only one door open, but there was audible growing and scratching from a very large dog coming from within. Evidently even if music could put it to sleep, there wasn't any now. Well, good job she had come prepared. Pulling out the drugged steak, she peeled off the foil wrapping, banished the door open wider while standing far back, and threw it in. The massive canine lunged forward towards the movement and grabbed the meat out of the air. One of the other heads leant in for a quick sniff, it was deemed acceptable and happily swallowed whole. Those jaws were big. Thirty seconds later it was snoring contentedly. Still, while a werewolf was significantly lighter than Fluffy, she only needed the potion to hold for long enough to get through the trap door. Fortunately the dog was well clear of the door, so she just crept around it, heaved the portal open and, not seeing the bottom, took a deep breath and jumped.

Fortunately sticking charms are reliable, as long as you remember to refresh them regularly, so the glowstone Lily had set on her shoulder stayed there, giving her a good view of the mass of vines that she had landed on. For a moment she was just grateful for the soft landing, until she realised it was moving. Luckily her first reaction was to just try and kill it with fire.

"Incendio!" A wash of pale blue flames cascaded down to the floor. One did not put up with years of 'fiery redhead' jokes without learning to capitalise off them. Also it was quite a safe bet that an animal or plant, especially ones native to Great Britain, were not particularly keen on fire in the wild. Yes, she admitted that she probably should be able to recognise the plant and ways to deal with it, but Herbology was never her strongest subject and her OWLs were long ago. Anyway, she thought as the tendrils retreated across the floor with what she could swear was an audible hiss, it worked.

The next room was giant, stretching far up into what should be the floors above. Had Dumbledore used space expansion magic, or was Hogwarts' architecture even weirder than she had realised?

Anyway. Flocks of flying … keys, they seemed to be winged keys. Must have been a devil of a job charming all of those. Not necessarily difficult, at least after the first few when you have the technique down, but time consuming and tedious she would have thought. Whole bunch of keys, locked door at the end and some brooms leaning against the wall. Seemed fairly self explanatory, if more like some sort of fairground game than an actual defence. Still, the might not have to bother with that.

Striding across the room she aimed her wand at the door ahead. Not at the lock, which was presumably warded, but at the hinges. Assembling the new furniture when she had moved into the current house had taught her a useful spell for these situations.

"Trona." The twisting charm was an uncommon spell, not because of its rarity, it was in the Charms textbook, but due to rare application. While she had had most success with it as a magical screwdriver, it also worked well to loosen nails so that they could be removed. At least unusually. A couple more casts proved that on these particular nails it wouldn't do anything. Ah well, looks like she would have to deal with this the long way.

Examining the room more carefully she noticed that one key stood out from the rest. Not only was it the only one coloured gold, but it's wings seemed severely damaged, as if someone had already caught it and stuffed it in a door lock.

"Accio key." Nothing. Whoever had set up this obstacle had put far to much effort into the small details, she grumbled.

Grabbing what she thought seemed the least dodgy broom from those lent against the wall, she kicked off and quickly chased down the lame key. Stuffing it in the lock she pulled open the door to be faced with … Neville.

"What precisely are you doing young man?" She asked. Perhaps in retrospect a tad too firmly, but then she was not having a good evening.

"Umm, Mrs Potter. I was just going to wait to see if anyone came to help. I have the potion you see, just that when I got here the door was locked and I realised the key was on the other side, so I couldn't get out."

After taking a moment to calm herself a bit, and to place a broom on the floor going through the doorway, so it couldn't shut and lock again, Lily took charge.

"Why don't you explain what happened from the beginning. Your letter said you were planning just to watch. What happened?"

"Well, first thing was that we wanted to get the cloak to hide us, but one of Harry's dorm mates, Padma…"

By the time the pair reached the purple fire, the chess set was reassembling itself and so didn't bar passage, and the trolls were still incapacitated, Lily was fully caught up. She really wasn't happy that Harry had gone on alone, but grudgingly admitted that the cloak would protect him better, so if any of them had to (which in her opinion they didn't), he had been the best choice. Downing the potion she handed the bottle back to Neville, thanked him, and then stepped into the fire.

The two girls were so caught up in their discussion that they didn't notice her walk in.

"Do you think it is full now?"

"Probably. I still don't see why you are going through first."

"Because we established that the spells I know that you don't might be more useful. Also I am more used to doing stuff with Harry." Susan insisted.

Lily broke in. "If you don't mind girls, I think it would be best if I followed."

"Ah! Mrs Potter." Susan squeaked.

"Hello Susan, and you must be Padma. Neville has filled me in on the details. While I am sure long conversations will need to be had about this, now is neither the time nor the place. Is the potion refilled?"

"Um, yes. But won't it mix with the other one?" Padma gestured to the violet fire Lily had just come through.

"I don't think so. The fires are produced by an activatable potion spread on the floor. These potions to drink are not actually firewalking potions or its variants, but specific antidotes. Assuming they were designed to guild standard, and say what you like about Severus but he is thorough when it comes to his own potions, they shouldn't clash."

Saying that, she picked up the smallest bottle, swallowed its contents in one swig and marched onwards, wand raised.

As Harry crept out of the black fire on his tip-toes, trying his utmost not to give himself away, he found himself at the top of a set of steps leading down to a circular room. For some reason his scar had started to ache slightly. In the centre was a full length mirror in a gaudy gold frame. There were letters across the top, but he couldn't make sense of them. In front of this mirror stood Professor Quirrell, seemingly studying it intently. There was nobody else there that he could see.

"It just doesn't make sense. All of the diagnostic charms come up with nothing, except the mirror. Nothing seems to be hidden under the floor, no safes in the walls or concealed doorways. It must be in here somewhere." Muttered the professor. No longer shy or stuttering like he had been all year, but instead firm and determined. Padma may have been right, Harry considered. It seemed as though Quirrell had been fooling everyone the entire year.

Now he had confirmed this though, there wasn't really much he could do but stand there and watch. Even if he could somehow get close enough to Quirrell to steal his wand using surprise, he was still an eleven year old boy against a grown man. Better to just quietly observe so that when other adults arrived he could tell them what he saw. Keeping to the edge of the room as the minutes ticked by, Harry had no real understanding of what Quirrell was doing beyond waving his wand around and muttering to himself. Although Harry could swear that a couple of times he heard a voice talking back, but it was too indistinct for him to say for certain. Then disaster struck.

"Ahh!" Quirrell sighed in frustration. "There must be a trigger hidden somewhere. I need to check the room again. If I find even the faintest thing that seems off, that could be it."

Now, while the Potter invisibility cloak was far more powerful than any off-the-shelf article, it wasn't infallible, especially against high level detection charms looking for anything unusual against an otherwise blank stone wall. Harry could feel the magic wash over him through the cloak, the artefact suddenly pulling strongly on his magic to shield itself better. This unexpected yank at his young and little developed magical reserves startled Harry, causing him to gasp and stumble slightly.

"Aha! There is something else here! I knew it!" Quirrell triumphantly crowed, lunging forwards to see if he could touch what he couldn't see.

The impact sent the small boy sprawling, the cloak slipping off to leave him exposed to the older wizard.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here. Little Harry Potter. It seems you have been a very naughty boy."

While in some later retellings Harry would claim that he was cunningly trying to stall for time for the help he knew was coming, in reality he, quite understandably, panicked and started babbling on instinct.

"You will never get away with this. You still haven't found whatever it is, and even if you do, Dumbledore will know and catch you!"

Quirrell laughed. "Dumbledore is a blind fool. I have been sitting under his nose all year and he has never suspected a thing. I even released that troll into the school back on Halloween and all the old muggle-lover did was chastise me for an 'understandable accident'. I might have even been able to get the stone then in the confusion, if it hadn't been for Severus. Quite the loyal cur, he suspected me all year and has been my main obstacle. Currently however, he is too busy marking exams to check on me while your precious Dumbledore has abandoned the school again. Anyway, enough idle chatter."

He reached down and hoisted Harry up by his shoulder and then dragged him in front of the mirror.

"Given what the mirror shows, I have been wondering if the key is something to do with consent. In your oh so earnest attempt to foil me you may have provided me with just the thing I need. Now, tell me. What do you see?"

For a moment Harry just saw himself staring back and was confused. It was just a mirror, wasn't it? Then he realised that he couldn't see Quirrell in it, despite the man standing right behind him. He whipped his head round to check. Yes, Quirrell was still there, fully visible. Turning back to the mirror he got another shock when his 'reflection' smiled and waved. What magic was this?

"Tell me boy? What do you see? Do you see the stone? I see myself handing it over to my master, but I don't know how to get it. Tell me how to get it!" As the professor's rant gained momentum he became progressively louder and even began shaking Harry hard by his shoulder. At that moment all Harry wanted was to keep this stone, was it the philosopher's stone, away from Quirrell himself if he wanted it so bad.

Just as this thought flew through his head, he saw his 'reflection' put a hand into his robe pocket, withdraw some sort of translucent red lump, and return it there with a wink. As it did so Harry could swear he felt something appear in his real pocket. Had the mirror just given him the stone?

Still struggling to process what had just happened, Harry stammered out the first response that came into his head, just to stop the professor raving at him. "I-I see myself alone, I am smiling and waving. What is this mirror?"

"He lies!" A new voice hissed. It was like a sibilant whisper, thoroughly inhuman in some undefinable way that sent a shiver down Harry's spine just as the pain in his scar flared into a sharp burn. "Show him to me!" In commanded.

"Are you strong enough my lord?" Quirrell questioned nervously.

"For this, yes. He is just a child." Where was the voice coming from? It seemed to be from Quirrell as well.

As Harry was paralysed in horrified fascination. Quirrell slowly stood back and began to unwind his turban while turning around. As the bands of cloth fell away they revealed what appeared to be a malformed face, jutting out from the back of Quirrell's head. Except, just like the voice that was issuing from it, it seemed somehow just wrong, even beyond its placement. The eyes were just pupils set into sickly, mottle yellow orbs. The mouth opened just to reveal an inky blackness that seemed to swallow light. The nose had been truncated, as if flattened, leaving a pair of long, fluttering slits.

"If it isn't Harry Potter. The mighty Boy-Who-Lived! At the mercy of little old me!" The face mocked, clearly enjoying the look of panic and revulsion on Harry's face. "But where are my manners. Let me introduce myself. We have met before, but I didn't exactly stop to chat."

Harry's mind was working furiously. This wasn't Quirrell, it seemed as if someone had latched on to the professor. The words of the centaur from the forest came echoing back to him 'any lengths to eke out one more day', 'cursed half-life'. "Voldemort" he breathed softly.

"Very good." The abomination tittered sickeningly. "Mummy's boy has been doing his homework, although I would expect nothing less from a Ravenclaw. I apologise for my appearance, I have really let myself go this last decade. You know how it is, your magic backfires on you and next thing you know you are reduced to possessing the first weak-minded fool who stumbles into your clutches."

Seemingly now bored of deriding Harry, the Voldemort face suddenly switched to a serious demeanour. "Now I know you saw something interesting in that mirror, I don't need to be able to read minds to know that, although if you are a bad boy I might have to and that won't be nice. For you at least. So, you are going to be a good little teacher's pet and do everything you are told, or I get to do this the fun way."

Quirrell turned back around and Harry was again faced with his professor.

"You heard the master. Tell me what you saw in the mirror." He waved his wand over Harry and started in delight. "Aha! It gave it to you. Classic Dumbledore, you need to get an innocent patsy to do the work for you, should have known that from the start. Now hand it over!"

"No!" Harry scrambled away, but with the black fire still blocking the entrance there was nowhere to go. Sure, the potion could be still protecting him, but the alternative was a swift and fiery death, so he wasn't going to take the chance. Knowing that his prey was trapped, Quirrell advance slowly until he had Harry pinned against the wall, and then reached out to take the stone by force. In desperation Harry threw up his hands and one of them caught Quirrell in the face.

As soon as their bare skin made contact, Harry's scar flared into a blinding agony, so that it took a moment for him to realise that Quirrell hadn't escaped unscathed either. The professor reeled back, clutching at a glistening red rash than had appeared on his cheek.

"You Fool!" Hissed Voldemort. "He is just a child. Just kill him and take the stone from his corpse."

Not knowing what had just happened, but realising that it might be the only way he had of defending himself, Harry leapt forward, using the advantage of surprise to wrap both of his hands around the adult's throat. After a few moments when he seemed to be paralysed by the agony, shared with his passenger if the screams were anything to go by, Quirrell finally pulled himself together and acted. Apparently forgetting in the heat of the moment and the pain that he was a wizard, the professor instead leveraged his superior size and strength to bodily lift Harry up and throw the eleven year old boy away from him across the room.

Even at his young age, Harry's magic reinforced body meant that landing on the hard, stone floor was more of an annoyance than a danger. He was far more distracted by the mixture of blood and puss that now covered his hands, and he could see was leaking down Quirrell's front from the inflamed sores encircling his neck. Not that it was especially fascinating, but it was the only thing Harry could think to focus on rather than the solid mass of agony drilling into this skull through his scar.

Unfortunately on the other side of the room, while obviously weakened and struggling, Quirrell managed to pull himself together in spite of his injuries. Bending down to pick up his wand from where he had dropped it, he decided to play safe rather than getting into arm's reach of the boy again. He didn't know what this reaction was, but it wouldn't matter once the child was dead. He raised his wand and pointed it at Harry, who sat immobile on the floor where he had landed. A single word rang out through the small stone room.

"Bombarda!"