It was only later that on, towards the cooler part of the day, when a familiar face was met with resentment when the girls turned a corner. The one Slytherin who was torn out of the school year, his first one to boot, came close to them almost shoving close shoulder to shoulder. It was no other than Draco Malfoy… Of course the two thought he was all about causing a scurry, since their last little meet up ended up as a fiasco that she would rather forget with a use of one memory charm. According to her Mark's current opinion, there was no threat here, and so Lyra remained unmoving as he approached.

Malfoy was so inclined to shoulder her in the arm as he passed them by, quite painfully so. However, to the ladies, it looked like he was walking with his tail between his legs, with hunched shoulders and a lowered head. It was quite the awkward affair during their walk towards Professor Flitwick's class. Often, Lyra's mind did not dwell much on trivials when there were true dangers around them as they walked onward. Today, at least, was somewhat exciting when Professor Flitwick was eager to see their skills being put further to the test.

The day shone through the mighty window of the classroom like gold which made it a mite simpler to read the incantations carved in the wood panelling around them. They reached their desks, side by side Ron and a Hufflepuff, both hinted on what this lesson would entail. Her classmates were giddy enough as charmed butterflies fluttered forth among more escaped chocolate frogs, entertaining them all until the Professor was in. It was a tender escape from reality~ Flitwick's contagious enjoyment on the subject often kept their attention spans quite sharp and his pride made him call upon students only two minutes into the lecture.

"What a wonderful morning this is, dear children~ How glad am I to see such bright faces! Do quiet yourselves, pay close attention as we come to learn a new charm! This one will be a key one in your O. , dare I say so."

'Probably not as key as InVeniam…' Lyra thought deeply to herself as she paid extra attention. She held this feeling in her heart that never left her since that evening in Dumbledore's office, that rivalled the warmth her ring had. It was not distracting in the slightest, however it kept reminding her.

"We have gone over Locking and Unlocking charms, Alohamora, and Colloportus," Professor Flitwick continued, spryly. "… charms that would prove to be fine escapes from questionable circumstances, yes?"

"Yes, Professor!" chorused his students, from all around.

"Quite so, quite so… now may I have two volunteers for this particular cabinet by the door here." Flitwick pointed out to this small broom closet nearside one of the arched windows which was all adorned with a variety of very confusing locks. None of which had any keyholes. "All that needs to be done is proper incantations and focus, and who successfully unlocks each with a single spell would earn what is hidden behind the cabinet~ as well as a credit. Now, who would be inclined to go first?"

In turn, in duos, the class did their part in trying to unlock those strange locks, all done either only a quarter of the way or none at all which was telling that the lot had not been in fair practice since Holiday. However, in Lyra's case, she had put both spells in at least some practice, before Prince's eyes of course. Despite all other stresses, the year was still going on… and gladly, it was nice to get her mind off those frights. The use of her wand was rare with the exceptions being in this class and in front of the teachers. This wand was something of a mystery to her still however, it held a certain beauty to it that reminded her of a lilac forest. The handle held this floral pattern that danced upward towards the center, as the rest was smoothed yet uneven. Prince's was sleek and as dark as night, as straight as a line, but his handle had this celtic carvings all around it. It was odd to think that her wand had the same core as the wand that was used to create her Mark.

When it came to her turn, with her partner being Seamus, unfortunately, she came up with him towards the cabinet until she began to feel the all too well known burn over her body — It send a chill of dread down her spine, all the way from her head to her toes. At this time, she tried hard to ignore it as she tried to focus on the spell… uttering the incantation Alohamora~! ~which snapped not two but three of the locks. Seamus did his turn, snapping three more off before his wand made a popping sort of sound, once again, spooking Lyra aside, almost.

The class had to go on a little longer, but the Professor was very observant and noticed this little upset in the charge. As soon as the turn was done, Flitwick made a note of it that something was awry, however he had to finish the lecture without a stir. There was a fine indication that the poor lass was undegoing many stressors as her focus was not as passionate as it was before. By sending a note with small Felix, Professor McGonagall was subtly noted during her own lecture as her class was in the midst of writing their terms down. The little owl needed his moment of glory to stretch his wings within the massive chapel, making a few of the children chuckle, that was until they all got a well deserve stare from Minerva. Although, that was not enough to put the class to a halt, McGonagall did not waste a second before briskly walking her way down the aisle of desks and animal cages in order to speak with an elf that awaited her at the door.

After sending the elf off with her own written message, the Emerald witch returned to her post, much like how a soldier would. Her pursed lips and coldish blue stare was enough to keep her class silenced. One Rebecca Slone had the inclination that something was going on that the teachers were hush about, probably to keep fear out of students. There was this inner sense that she felt, that none of her classmates seemed aware of. She could only hope that all would be well. However, the castle was filled with this odd feeling, all around, even among the ghosts and portraits.

Students had certainly noticed more changes when Defense Against the Dark Arts happened to be cancelled that Friday due to a note stating of being unwell. Of course, this was not due to any nerves or anything of that like…

"I don't believe any of this unwell nonsense," spoke Hermoine while writing slightly too hard with her quill.

"How clever can we be when we're also in the thick of it?" Ron replied in a tight whisper, clearly on edge, not unlike Lyra however.

"Lyra, is everything all right…?" Hermoine finally asked.

"It's my Mark." Lyra answered. "It keeps burning. I've learned by now that it means danger's coming…" she whispered. It was not from the pain, but she looked quite close to crying.

It brought her back to what she intended to show her friends, but she never got the chance. If it were not for her ring going cold as well, she would not be so jumpy. The teachers were more quiet than usual, with students doing their most favored activity of typical gossip to add more to her nerves.

"Perhaps it is a good time to show us what you found last night," Hermoine whispered with Ron looking over his shoulder for any eavesdroppers.

"I am not so sure now, because it's certain that we're being watched over," Lyra explained, spinning her ring around her thumb after trading it from finger to finger. She had the thought, also, to speak of the mysterious journal, but she had to hold that thought until it felt safer.

"Even with them on our tails, could what you found still be there?"

"I cannot say. Professor Dumbledore was there last night too. He did say it would be taken to a new home…"

If that was so then they had to make a move, and soon. Despite Lyra's suspicions of when and where, the night only drew ever closer, much faster than niether of them had previously thought. No doubt, this plot of theirs to find out of this crown would lead to something much deeper was not to be overlooked by anyone. Not even the castle's eyes and ears, Mrs. Norris, was not to be fooled. It was she who enjoyed following them about all that afternoon, of course.

When Twilight began to fall over the Highlands, there was this odd feeling that fell over the three like a drape, all at once. Knowing well that the castle was personally enchanted in so many mind-befuddling ways that would keep them and all of the other students confined to their dormitories for their own well-being at night, these three brave cubs had to be wily if they were to uncover this castle secret. If someone was in danger tonight, they needed to know. Lyra had to know for certain…

As a family, of only two, a fear was always settled in her heart year before this that horrible people would break into their home one night and do away with them both, somehow. Or she would be taken, by the monster that started all this and lose him. Now that she learned that some kind of dark spell was once used over her Guardian, she could only fear the worst…

As those corridors grew darker as they day grew cooler, the more Lyra began to see something vaguely familiar around the stone fire pits and torches. Of that same phenomenon that once caught Prince's eye upon the eve of her first arrival to Spinner's End, it seemed to follow her too. It felt as though no one else were really aware of them, walking passed with no worries for them at all… even as she was with the two others. Hermoine was a little concerned when Lyra seemed more distant than usual, following something that she and Ron could not see. It became to be the norm for the Prince girl these days.

These were the little woodwhites that preferred to dance over flames right in the apple of her eye before, but now they were physically there, not as some remnent of a far off dream. She wondered if Prince ever saw the same during her solemn years, as did leave her feeling nearly engrossed, even numbed to her friend's questions. It fluttered its snow white wings and flew right into the room she had found before with Lou Lou… where the Headmaster had discovered them.

"What on earth are you looking at? We can't go in there~" Hermoine hushed as she attempted to pull Lyra back by her wrist. "It's forbidden! Remember?"

"It did not seem that way before…" Lyra uttered, completely mesmerized, too curious for her own good at the moment. Stubbornly, she had to pull her hand out of Hermoine's grip, and the two were left to either follow or not. There was no stopping her, and so they ran into the strange room with her where the woodwhite had vanished through. The phenomenon took them within this chamber that turned out to be simply empty, and the mirror Lyra was so enamored by was gone.

However, once they entered, a shadow flew passed just outside the door and slammed it shut, frightening the three out of their minds. At once when that happened, Lyra seemed to have snapped out of her trance as this chilling fright filled her chest.

"What did I tell you!?" Hermoine barked.

"It has to be a joke, right? Lyra!?"

Lyra was stunned to silence at the moment, trying to wrap her mind over what just happened, and soon finding that she had no memory coming in here… "I-"

Before she even had the chance to say anything, something had caught her eye. There was that one insignia, the very one that kept popping up everywhere in random potioneering and history books all year long. Engraved in the stone wall behind them, dead center of it, was the design of a stallion… Below its head was a stone crown with a bright red stone directly in its center.

"Do you mean, after all this time, the Crown was in here? All along we've been walking passed it?" Ronald piped up.

"Other than the fact that we're locked in here!?" Hermoine snapped as she tried her best to use the Alohamora on the door. Lyra remained speechless, finding it all too much that the insignia was here of all places when she never saw it there that night before. Hermoine kept trying to unlock the door but the spell was not having it respond at all in anyway~ which led to some desperation.

"This has Quirrell all over it! What are we going to do!? Lyra… what is going on with you…?" the poor boy thus began to beg, loathing all this sudden mystery. Lyra, on the other hand, knew what this could entail, and her fear was withering away, unlike her friends. The words of her Guardian was flooding her mind… and she stood taller with her head held high, Lyra looked to the frantic two.

"I think we should go further…" she said, much to their shock.

"Are you truly going mad, Lyra!?" Ron spat. "Us, going deeper in the castle —"

"It's not a good idea, Lyra~ What will Professor Prince say~"

"I know what he will say." Lyra stated, more firmly. "Niether of you know what I truly went through on the eve after the Quidditch tournament…" she began to reveal to them. "I promised not to tell~ but, I only want to ask if you two trust me…"

"Quite a forward question, that…"

"Of course, we trust you, Lyra…" Hermoine stated, quite firm as well. "And if this is a trap set for us, and if anyone cannot get to us~"

"Oh, I believe they can." Lyra stated, sure of herself. "… and they will."

Her green eyes sharpened at the two with divine certainty and turned back towards the insignia… With her palm, she felt over the stone, thinking deeply to herself as to why it was put there. The Headmaster certainly had a play in this. "I said that because it took me years to finally have his trust again. I was so little, but even back then I knew that the damage was done, and that it was impossible to fix. All that changed though. At the game, someone put poison in the goblets, and Prince almost drunk one. If what we have learned about Quirrell's doings are true, then my promise remains the same now… If I trust my father, and he trusts me, then you two can too."

As if a spell was cast, the wall splitting between the Crown began to open slow and wide, revealing another corridor, this time footed with stairs heading deeper and deeper into the depths of the castle of some. This sudden movement frightened the trio enough for them to back away from the wall.

"No way that this a good idea…" Ron's voice shook as he looked into this new cavern.

Lyra affectionately fiddled with her ring for a moment before she slowly approached the stair, remembering what she was told. Looking back to the locked door and then to her friend's she had to muster her courage right back. This was their only way out… Although she shared their same fears, her courage cried out stronger than ever. She chose to take the first step.

With her friends in tow, having no other alternative in the matter, Lyra traveled down the stairway, very carefully, soon seeing a wall of fire deep in the chamber below them. Something was on the rise… She could feel it heat up inside her chest. As they drew closer, Lyra could tell that someone was calling her name and began to run down. The deeper they went in, all Lyra had to do was take one step forward before this veil happened to fall over her eyes. All she happened to see was cold stone and rushing air went through her. The voices of her friend's screaming all faded away from her when she turned to find herself completely surrounded by stone.

Her friends, they were left behind. So it would seem…

Professor Prince held guard over the stark black wand in his hand, bound to his chest as he slipped through the dark of night. The moment when the air went completely thin around him, and for a moment, he felt a whole, gruesome loss from his true core that it nearly dislodged him. In the corner of his eye, Prince was able to spot a shadow as soon as the great door was slammed shut on the trio. For this to happen so early in the eve, it only proved of the desperation in the enemy thus far… Prince held a fear for his daughter, clearly checking for the vials tucked safely among his robes before slipping forth with a growing hatred. It took immense precautions that would lead up to this night, and so he was not going to let this snake slip away so easily.

Under his breath, he began to whisper~

Expecto Patronum…

The splendor lit up the night and took the fragile form of a spindly doe. Near him, she dodged closer to the wall, focusing solely on him as though anticipating direction. As of this moment, Prince was beginning to feel that childhood fear of being left aside and alone, and this tearful cry for him echoed, from the walls, from within his own mind. Right then, he knew that his charge had already entered the chambers. His doe's ear twitched to and fro, listening to Lyra's calls. He nodded to her, and she bounded back, dashing through the wall. Her angelic light vanished in an instant.

After all of this planning, protections and enchantments set in place, as long as the liar was numb to it all, it should all go evenly. Emotions had to be kept mum, however they were all the more crucial. These heart to hearts, those late night lullabies, and forward warnings~ all those were not meant for loss, as his vows were far to precious to wasted on mere happenstance. Not a hair on the girl was to be touched by darkly tainted hands…

Cleverly, through the door he magically unlatched, Prince pressed his way through as soon as the shrouded sort entered into a forbidden corridor in order to head them off. As he did so, his moonlit heart guided Patronus bounded her way through those hidden walls, listening for that distant voice. It was where Lyra was aimlessly running about, trying to touch each wall and niche in hopes of finding a way out. She had found herself trapped inside a lit chamber that was built as a fair circle with pillars, and stone steps all around and niches that each housed a stone knight. By every other one stood tall torches that lit the chamber up, so at the very least she was warmed by their flames… As for the other two… They too were held inside a similar place, Ron was held inside one guarded by stone ravens, Hermoine guarded by stone horses while Lyra was guarded by a wall of knights. There were no windows and no doors in either of these chambers… It was as though they each slid in through the walls as same as the ghosts would do.

"Lyra! Ron?" Hermoine hurried and yelled in vain. Even with her wand, nothing was being revealed, no matter what spell she tried to cast. "This is Quirrell's doing, it has to be…" she angrily said, beginning to pace.

"This was truly a trap! Why did we come in here!?" Ron spat, as he kicked the wall out of spite.

"Ronald!?" Hermoine squeaked, happening to having heard him from her side, through this tight crevis in the wall. "Is that you!?"

"Aye, it's me- wait, where are you!?"

"Through the wall, Ron…" she sighed, aloud. "We were separated!"

"I know that! Is Lyra with you?"

"No! I was going to ask if she was with you!"

"It seems we're both on our own!"

"Is there any way out on your end?"

"No. Not even a window!"

"We need to find a way out and find Lyra, and quick before Quirrell does!"

"But, what about the teachers?"

"This could their doing as well…"

"Lyra might be all right then… I doubt Professor Prince would just let this happen with his knowing…" Ron smartly reasoned.

"They all know… Oh!"

"Do you think anyone would find us?"

"We have to try and get out… Do you have your wand with you?" Hermoine asked.

"I do…"

After a moment, something other than the torches lit up the room. Hermoine turned to see this stunning blue light. Her eyes went wide~

The endless passages seemed to head off in different directions, each stair leading to strange places, however Professor Orpheus Prince knew truly of where he had to go, of where he had to be. As each torch lit up from his presence, he listened for her voice, only to be certain that this path was entirely separate from the children. Amidst the flickering and snapping of the flames, these corridors were too quiet for his liking. However the terror he was hearing in his charge's cries were becoming almost too much to bear, so much so that he hurried his step, clearly focusing on the terror awaiting ahead.

Flames threw themselves across the arch way before him, blocking his path supposedly as he held the feeling of being shadowed. Prince viciously blocked a curse his way, swinging it so quickly and harshly that it was struck off and it hit the wall, causing a decent resounding crack.

It all went unnoticed by all of the sleeping souls, however… Nearly Headless Nick was not so numb to the castle's nightly happenings. As soon as the evening began, all students were ordered to obey the curfew~ Professor McGonagall's voice called through out the halls, urging them all to bed down in their dormitories due to a magical breach. Halls were blocked and the Great Staircase became enchanted with the Midnight Hold, which kept entrances incapable of leading out to other corridors and would automatically send students back to whence they came in the Staircase, giving them no other alternative but to return to their dormitories. Much talk was beginning to go around that this danger was in league with You-Know-Who, and in truth, they were correct… Doors refused to open, halls turned into a mazes to befuddle those who prefer to not follow certain rules for their own well-being. There would no way through until the dawn would come…

Now, the night was dearly young still and from the eyes of the lake, it appeared that the windows were all falling deep asleep, as a shroud took over those graceful turrets…

"You will never see a rainbow, if you are looking down…" Lyra found herself repeating after her fruitless searches for an exit, there was no hope of finding one. Those old little dusty white pages with such encouraging words replayed over in her memory. Despite that this could very well be Quirrell's trap alone, and her Guardian was currently in physical danger, Lyra had to keep her heart in check. That flutter of hope was still ignited and she rose her eyes up to the grand walls, and stood bravely. Feeling the rim of the ring go cold, she called out for him. Professor Dumbledore had promised that some sort of justice would be served and Prince would remain safe. There was danger in the air tonight… Her mother's prayer~ It had to be true.

Grave, and angered, Prince knew where he was headed into as soon as he certainly had the upperhand above his shrouded attacker. He prayed that he could continue to hear his charge's voice, although he dreaded to hear it. This servant was potentially powerful, equalling his skill entirely in man to man combat. As far as he was concerned, this was his battle to finish, so his hatred was fueled strongly as to who would dare to try and destroy what took years to create.

Due to a swift turn on his part, enchanted flames appeared seemingly from air. Almost they had him in her grip before Prince was able to use his cape to flounce his way through with not a burn or tear. Right when he entered into the heart of the maze, he was met up with someone entirely undesirable. The damned soul whose subtly was hardly grasped, as all knew who they could not trust with the precious lives of these children, not only concerning Lyra. Purely, Dumbledore's own spell was hard at work as he could feel and tell of her whereabouts without stirring suspicion, even though this trick appeared to be of Quirrell's doing without any doubt.

"I was certain that miserable old man had chosen you, of all people~" came a scratchy little voice from the empty space below where a tall mirror stood at the heart.

Prince froze in his place, pin pointing where the brute stood. They stood before the mirror, stone still, that purple turbin taking up most of the view of the sightless glass. Anger began to broil within, with his wand out and ready, as he inched closer, wary as could be.

"It is quite the shock that you would be so inclined to threaten the lives of hapless young people," Prince seethed through his teeth, as he held his anger at bay.

Quirrell finally had the audacity to turn around, with a rare smug look wrapped over his pale face. Prince was not surprised by this, as he could tell of where the Dagger was hidden beneath those robes upon his left flank.

"Good of you to be aware of the appointed time, of where you might speak of the whereabouts of the child in question…" Prince carefully spoke, his words soft and slowed as though he were in the company of an untamed animal.

"The child you so took in from the kindness of your own heart, I dare say, Severus Snape?" Quirrell hissed, his eyes narrowing down to slits.

Prince had not been called by that name for many a year, and how it left a nasty bitterness on his tongue. The only time it was ever uttered with affection was from the kindly Half-Giant's tongue. He remained firm and silent though, as he had to shut his heart away for the sake of his daughter in this regard.

"How fascinating it was that, next to you, my farce with the goblets could not have gone sour if it were not for that damned fool's cat. In order to spread poison through out the school, I would have had the girl at the start of the year. By how you are a clever man. Master used to think highly of you for that exact cleverness."

"I am 'fondly' aware of your Master's taste in servants, Professor. Or shall we even refer you as such?" Prince dared. "As you seek pitiful ways of intimidation, how about we just cut to the chase, shall we? Do you know the exact whereabouts of Rosylan Potter?" he questioned, standing quite still and calm with both hands neatly held before him, still with his wand well in view.

"As though I would tell you of the whereabouts of your precious treasure that was never yours to begin with. Shouldn't you know as well, as she is so dear to you?"

Prince knew where this would end up and tightened his grip over the handle of his wand. There was this strange hiss in the air, only that Quirrell could decipher for himself as a command. His beady eyes tensed before he drew his own wand out from his sleeve. Looking maddened, he aimed at the darker, bolder wizard as he began to march forward.

"IT WILL BE YOU WHO WILL TAKE ME TO HER, SNAPE. As you were once ordered to, eleven years ago. She was never yours to take."

"Apparently my choice on that night comes as confusing to you." Prince remained in place, boldly stating that in a stronger voice. "A magic your Master is dull to determined that she was mine to take. A gifted rite. Although, she is her own mind and heart. She belongs to no one."

"Foolish words."

Intense breath held in, as a severe pain would settle through all the strife and bother, although he knew what could be worse than that. No worse pain than seeing Lyra in any of it; the sight of her tears. More so was her death. He would meet his first, if that was fate's design. Prince strongly defended himself from this silent but deadly assault that relied on mental strength alone, no matter the agony. Quirrell was overpowered, slipped into his own agony before he roared out in rage before attempting to curse Prince. There was a fleeting release, of some sort of wistful calm that was suddenly dropped, Prince recognized the curse. Of the one he was once prisoner to as a younger man~ which unleashed more than one unhappy memory, of what he had to distract himself from in order to be on point against this upfront assault.

You always belonged to me~ Blood- BLOOD TRAITOR - You will be mine again! were the intruding thoughts that were absolutely not his own before he pushed back once again, his strength was enough to knock Quirrell back harshly against the mirror…

There was another roar as there was a cut in the air that nearly tore his frock sleeve right open with a gash, but was narrowly missed while Prince had to leap aside in order to swipe him off his feet with Protego, most importantly. Normally, such a cast would only protect the caster from harm, but in this case, there was so much drive behind it that it completely shocked the little turban man. Yet, he stood back up with another maddened smirk as his turban was loosening from his head. They faced with one another, each unwilling to lend the other the upperhand, with Prince strongly blocking his mind from further attempts as he knew was the nasty work of Legilimency. While the other was purely Unforgivable, and was once proved to be his youthful undoing~

A sword of flame came directly out of Quirrell's hand that Prince had to strike aside, sending a great deal of sparks all across the stone floor. He had to strike against Quirrell again as he continued to attack him wandlessly~ Yet there was something Quirrell was blind to and that was the inflamed whip that ultimate struck his head which flung the ignited cloth right off of his head.

There was an anguished cry that did not appear to come out of Quirrell's lips, but his face was twisted tight in a grimace. It all made Prince to cautiously back away when he recognized the snake-like voice when he saw it appear in the dead sighted mirror… Beside the tender image of Lyra weeping in the middle of a lit chamber, there was a horrifying face.

"Severus Snape…" hissed an awful voice.

This face was latched and blended into the back of Quirrell's head, acting as a parasite. It was crooked, pallid, deformed with hardly any kind of humanity left. Its eyes were beady, tight and blood red and held two slits for nostrils above its drooling toothy sneer. Even given his current struggle, even the Potion's Master's eyes went wide, seeing the full truth come through despite all efforts. Upon seeing this dastardly diseased form, the wall Prince built was shaken to the point that these fragmented memories began to replay within the backstages of his mind, of horrible acts he was once commanded to follow without fail… It rendered him speechless for a second too long.

"I do take it that you have exquisite memory… You, as one of my former loyal followers… see what I have become due to your betrayal. You've seen what I had to do in order to survive. To live off of another - a mere parasite! Unicorn blood can sustain me… but it cannot give me a body of my own. But… there is a way.

You will be forgiven, Severus… It shall be so if you would be so kind as to lead me to the Girl Who Lived~"

As a means to use her as a host just the same… Prince's eyes sharpened, almost becoming jet black in well-controlled rage.

"You have had me under your sway long enough for me to learn for myself the ways of protecting, not only myself, but of those I am able to save…" Prince challenged at the two enemies. "… you will never touch a single hair on her head, for as long as I am alive."

"YOU DARE DISRESPECT MY NAME ONCE AGAIN, SEVERUS SNAPE~ Once a Death Eater, Always a Death Eater!"

"Severus… is dead." Prince so boldly stated, enraging the creatures even further.

"KILL HIM!" the beast bellowed.

Quirrell happened to fly right off the ground, shooting directly towards Prince with a single hand outstretched. A great streak of emerald almost collided with Prince's shoulder but he felt no effect or pain which befuddled him for a quick second before he dodged, with grand agility while he once again blocked hex after hex~ Some were missed, proving that there was some kind of barrier around him — Until there came a frightening moment beside the mirror, when Prince heard Lyra scream out for him~ seeming so tenderly close.

"WHAT IS THIS MAGIC!?" Quirrell yelled, infuriated that the Death Curse literally had no effect on the black wizard.

"YOU FOOL! JUST USE IT!" the creature spat.

Quirrell's eyes relit and finally took out a weapon with a blade made purely out of the Moonkissed quartz that were rumored to have been stolen from the forests. It was a mighty dagger that looked heavier than any stone with its blade severely waved and tremendously sharp at the tip. Its beauty did not hinder its ill intent as the fire's light shimmered through the blade as Quirrell rose it in order to throw it at Prince… A dark liquid dripped from the handle before it was ultimately thrown.

Prince readied himself as this attack came very quick and the blade merely tore through his cape, rather than his leg and struck through like acid into the stone behind him… The blade seeped through seeming to melt like thick mollasses while this bleak liquid of the Draught of Living Death burned on the floor. If it were not for Quirrell's screams of pain, Prince would not have bothered to look back.

Quirrell was gripping his right hand in great pain as it began to go grey and crack like dry soil…

"NO! WHAT IS THIS!?" Quirrell panicked and looked up in terror at the other wizard who had no intention of providing any sort of help after all this. "SEVERUS PLEASE!"

It was entirely too late as Prince could plainly see the hex climb up Quirrell's arm, in his skin and clothes as he tried to lunge at Prince but his feet remained planted~ with one last agonizing scream, Quirrell moved no more… now nothing more than a statue. The creature itself met the same fate and with one final crack, the cries died off into mere echoes through out the maze of chambers, leaving Prince with his own. Finally, the stone body began to crumble and pile over the floor before Prince's feet who was in genuine shock…

Alone, he leaned against the mirror's frame, praying to hear Lyra's voice again… Lo and behold, his prayer was answered when he heard her weep out to him. He quickly looked down a lone path of more stairs where he could hear her so clearly now. His first instinct was to run towards her voice, and so he did… as the once trapping flames lowered, he drifted right through them, vowing to never look back.

The mirror stood alone, the image it offered to the once living Quirrell just disappeared and the flames of enchantment slowly began to sleep. In the midst of all this silence, there came a mist, whirling above the rubble of his host's corpse. A deep hiss resounded among the hums of the chambers as someone else had entered. The old wizard himself, the Headmaster calmly surveyed his surroundings, stepping his way calmly through even with this mist desperately trying to seek a way out.

At once, it appeared to want to attack Albus Dumbledore, however he stayed perfectly still as this horrible face seemed to scream at him from the mist. Dumbledore only sorrowfully watched as this mist twirled back and darted out of the chamber, aimless… The Headmaster could not shake his head slowly in pity before he sighted the rubble and melted quartz nearby… The deed was finished.