A/N: Well here it is - the ending of the Stone scene. I hope you guys like it.
CH29: Showdown
Previous Chapter: It emerged, with its dull gray skin and beady eyes, dragging its club along the floor. A troll, twice the size of the one they had fought on Halloween. Hermione was surprised they hadn't smelt it coming.
"Uh-oh."
"Quick!" Draco zoomed down past Hermione and tossed her the key. She caught it and shoved it into the lock. Click! The door creaked open.
"Come on!" She shouted, and then looked back at the soaring pair. "Oh, no ..."
Cho was caught in a corner, the troll slowly advancing towards her. She darted to the left, only to have the creature raise its club and smash it into the wall in front of her, showering the ground with pebbles. She screamed.
"Hold on, Cho!" Hermione stood, transfixed, as Draco flew over the troll's bumpy head, skimming its hair. It raised one of its cumbersome arms and swatted at him, but missed due to its slow reflexes. Draco grabbed Cho's hand. "On three, we dive, okay?" he muttered out the corner of his mouth, eyes locked on the troll. "One – two – three!" They dove straight down, almost hitting the floor, before they shot back up and rocketed through the troll's legs. It bent over and looked at them upside down.
Hermione's eyes widened and she pushed to door open further to allow them to fly through. The troll headed for the door, but it was too late: the entryway was closed. They could hear the club bashing against the wall to no avail on the other side.
"That was close." Cho leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed Draco on the cheek. "Thanks." He blushed.
"Don't mention it."
Hermione cleared her throat. "If you two are done, look."
They turned around and the hall lit up. The room was a giant chessboard.
Draco cautiously walked forward. He reached out and touched one the closest piece: a black Knight. "Wow, this is incredible."
"What do we do now?" asked Cho.
"I think – I think we have to become the chess pieces." The Knight came to life and nodded his head. Draco jumped back a bit, startled. "And I think he agrees with me." He looked at Hermione and Cho. "Now, there's no easy way to say this – "
"We know we are rubbish at chess," Hermione interrupted. "What do you want us to do?"
He pointed at the board. "Hermione, you become the bishop, and Cho, you take the place of the castle." He glanced up at the Knight and smiled. "Would you mind sitting this one out, mate?" The horse neighed and joined the bishop and rook and the side of the board.
"Now, white plays first." The pawn across from Cho moved two squares forward. "And, now it's our turn."
Each part of the set moved out, Draco directing them like a drill sergeant. The white side was moving ahead mercilessly and Draco was dragged down a bit by the fact that he had real people to protect. He winced every time a black piece was taken. Soon the board was littered with marble of both colors.
Draco surveyed the scene before him. "Yes," he mumbled. "It's the only way." The white bishop glared at him, with its blank face. He turned to Hermione. "After I make this move, take four steps diagonally to the right." He started to move himself.
"Draco, what are – " Both girls realized what he was doing at the same time. "No!"
The bishop slammed him over the head and he crumpled to the ground. Cho tried to go to him.
"Wait!" At Hermione's command, she stopped. Hermione moved where Draco had told her to and the King threw his crown at her feet. They rushed over to check on Draco.
"Is he okay?" Cho asked, tearfully.
"I – I don't know. I think he's just unconscious." She looked over to where there was now a clear path to the next chamber. "We have to go, Cho."
"But Draco – "
"You stay here," she said, quietly. "I'll go."
"Are you sure."
"Positive." She forced a smile. "Wish me luck." And she stood up and left.
"Good-luck," Cho whispered.
When Hermione entered the next room, flames sprung up, blocking the doors out. She moved towards the center of the room. A small bottle stood out of place in the line, sitting on the edge of a poem. It was half-empty.
She skimmed the words, grinning slightly, and she downed to contents. She shivered and looked at the fire.
'We've seen Hagrid's protection, and Sprout's. The keys were probably Professor Flitwick's and the troll would have been Quirrell's. McGonagall enchanted the chessboard. And the potion is obviously Snape. What's left?'
Hermione shook her head and entered the flames.
'Whatever it is, I'm coming, Andy.'
"Amazing," Quirrell said, breathily. Voldemort frowned for a moment, before a slow smirk spread across his face.
"Potter, come here." As he said those words, the ropes around Harry's legs disappeared. He stood up and uneasily made his way to the mirror. His hidden scar throbbed in pain.
"What do you want?"
"Take a look in the mirror. Tell me what you see."
Harry stepped closer, eager to see his family again, even though he knew they weren't real. But, instead, he saw himself alone. Puzzled, he leaned in closer.
Mirror-Harry looked back at him, fearfully, before smiling. He reached into his pocket and pulled out ... the Stone?!? He put a finger to his lips and dropped the rock back into his pocket.
Harry felt a sudden weight against his leg. He had the Stone.
"Well?" Voldemort asked with irritation. "What do you see?"
"I see ... I see ... "Harry stared at him innocently.
"Spit it out, boy!"
"I see you burning in hell," he snarled and he made a break for the door.
"Stop!" Harry found his legs glued to the floor. Voldemort glared at him. "I will not be spoken to like that, you insolent little – " He stopped as a small intake of breath was echoed around the chamber. "Well, well, it looks like our guests have finally arrived." Harry looked up and his stomach sunk in dread. Hermione stood at the top of the room. "Only one? We seem to have lost some along the way."
"No," Harry gasped and suddenly his legs were moving again. He stood in front of Hermione, shielding her from Quirrell and the Dark Lord. "Stay away from her."
"That's not very nice, Harry. You act as if I'm some kind of monster." He mockingly pouted. "I thought you would have wanted to see your friends one last time before you die." A small explosion rocked the chamber and Harry hurtled through the air away from Hermione. He hit a wall and crumpled.
"Andy!" Hermione shouted. She watched, shell-shocked at Harry's unmoving form. She snapped out of it and rushed towards him, only to smack into an invisible wall. "Harry!" she called, pushing against the barrier in vain. "Please, wake up!"
Harry moaned and rolled over. He pulled himself of the ground, nose bleeding. "You'll have – to do – better than that – Tom."
Voldemort's amused gaze darkened. "You know, Potter, you could be great. You have power. At my side, we could rule the world. I can give you whatever you want." He shot a look to the Mirror of Erised. "What is it that you really see?"
"I'll never join you!" Harry yelled.
"Too bad. You had you're chance. Quirrell?" His eyes flicked over to Hermione. "Kill her."
"NO!" Harry jumped, all his pain forgotten. He lunged at Quirrell, knocking the wand out of the man's hand. The Professor turned to him.
"Why, you – " He reached up to choke Harry. Though his air supply was being cut off, Harry thought he could smell ... burning flesh?
"Master, my skin!" Quirrell shrieked. His hands were on fire. Without thinking, Harry reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face, ignoring the tormented cries.
Quirrell collapsed, face-first, into the ground. Voldemort's enraged face stared up at him and a black mist started to pour out of Quirrell's lifeless body.
"You know what I really see, Tom?" Harry mocked, even though the world was hazy and there were spots dancing in his vision. "I see the one thing you took from me."
He passed out, the world of a high maniacal laughter and Hermione's screams fading into nothing.
