"Damn..."

Harry swore under his breath, staring at the open trapdoor and trying to ignore the feeble whimpers of pain from Fluffy. This was bad - this was very, very bad. If he went for one of the professors, it might give Snape enough time to go through whatever was beneath the room and get to the Stone.

If he went alone, however, he would wind up facing down a fully grown wizard that may or may not have turned himself immortal. Harry didn't know how the Elixir of Life worked. For all he knew, one simply wished for some and it appeared. He was in trouble, no matter which option he chose.

Looking up at the dying form of Fluffy, Harry winced. If Snape could do that much damage to a monster of those proportions, what could he do to another human? Harry wasn't sure he was willing to find out. As he struggled with his thoughts, one seemed to overpower all others; if Snape got the Stone and made himself immortal... then everyone, not just Harry, would be in serious trouble. With as evil as Snape seemed to him, Harry obviously didn't believe the potions master would use the Elixir of Life for the power of good.

Reaching into his robes, Harry pulled out his wand. If Snape got the Stone, it would most likely result in something bad happening to Hogwarts and its students. It was no secret that Snape seemed to outright loathe teaching what he felt to be incompetant children, after all. And if something bad did happen to the school, Harry would be forced to return to Privet Drive. Despite knowing he could count on Tonks and Andromeda for help, he didn't want to return to that place ever again if it could be helped. He had to do something and he had to do it quick.

Taking a deep breath, Harry walked up to the edge of the trapdoor and peered down. Seeing only darkness, he bit his lip and murmured,
"If he could make it, I can, too..."

With that, Harry jumped in.

Harry let out a loud 'whoomp!' when his backside hit the tunnel as it curved to one side and had to brace himself for impact as he was spat out the bottom of it. He bounced off of something soft, however, and he rolled harmlessly to the ground below.

Catching his breath, Harry looked around. The remnants of some form of plant were all over the floor, most looking extremely shredded.
Harry wasn't sure what kind of plantlife it had been, nor was he aware of the spell needed to do such damage, but he didn't have much time to worry about it. The door ahead of him was open slightly.

Getting to his feet, Harry walked over and peeked in. If there were more rooms - and Harry was sure that there were - he didn't want to go barging into any for fear that it was the last one. Harry wasn't keen on running into Snape in a sunny hallway, much less in a dank set of rooms where no one would be able to save him.

Thankfully, this door only opened to an empty, if a rather wet, passageway. Harry entered the corridor, walking along the slanted floor, idly wondering where the water that was dripping from the walls came from. He couldn't be that far underground, could he? The drop hadn't seemed to be long enough to put him under the lake, anyway.

The passage was relatively short and the door at the far end was once again cracked slightly. Harry peeked into this new room as he had done with the watery passage. Aside from a strange buzzing noise, the room was quite empty. Stepping into it properly, Harry realized he was completely wrong. It was far from empty, in fact.

The room was quite tall, once again leaving Harry to wonder just what part of the castle he was in. He could barely see the top of it, not just because it was rather dark, but because of the hundreds of little, flying creatures in it. They positively filled the upper areas of the room and filled it with a steady buzzing sound from their rapidly-flapping wings.

The noise was highly annoying and Harry found himself having to concentrate on the task at hand. Before looking for the other door in the room, Harry decided to cast his usual number of silencing charms over himself. Best to take seemingly needless precautions when you weren't sure what you would be up against. He suddenly began wishing that he had brought his invisibility cloak along for the journey.

When Harry located the other door in the room, he raised an eyebrow. A number of the flying creatures seemed to be on the ground, motionless, near it. Door itself was comprised of two halves, both of which seemed to have been nearly blown clean off their hinges. Whoever had been there before him obviously didn't have the patience to figure out how to properly get through it.

Walking closer, Harry knelt on the ground beside one of the creatures, surprised to find out that it was really a key with wings. Looking up, he saw a number of brooms that also looked as if they had seen better days. Putting two and two together, Harry looked back up to the swarm of enchanted keys flying around above him.

"Okay, that's odd..." Harry murmured to himself. "Fluffy was all but dead... that plant was a goner... and now I'm in a room filled with flying keys. So... that would be, what? Professor Flitwick mentioned that Hagrid named the dog, and it only made sense that someone as big as Hagrid could find something with three heads cute enough to give it a name like 'Fluffy'...

Standing against, Harry walked over to the splintered door, trying to judge what spell had been used as his thoughts continued racing. If Hagrid provided the guard dog... then Professor Sprout probably offered the plant... And Flitwick must have enchanted the keys. That meant that a number of different tests could lie in wait ahead of him. Hogwarts had a fair amount of teachers, so it only made sense that they offer support to guard the Stone.

Briefly, Harry wondered if Snape had also contributed. But... if it had been Snape, then why all the trouble of killing the dog, blowing up the plant, and shattering the door? Surely, he would have known how to get around the objects if necessary, wouldn't he? Harry frowned as he carefully made his way through the broken doorway, feeling increasingly anxious at what could still be between himself and his Potions professor.

The next chamber Harry entered was too dark to properly see in. He pulled his wand and was about to utter a 'Lumos!' to it when the room lit up of its own accord. Having been around Tonks for as long as he had, Harry had learned many wizarding games of all sorts. Though she was an utter loss at playing it herself, Harry found the wizarding chess set she had pointed out to him to be rather interesting... but that wasn't really saying much, as he found just about everything having to do with magic interesting in some way.

Harry walked into the room further, stepping onto what had once been a beautifully-made chess board. Now, there were several chunks missing from it, laying elsewhere in the room - some on top of the mutilated chess pieces. The ground also seemed to be of different levels, as Harry had to be careful not to misstep and fall or trip over bits of the board that were raised or lowered.

"He must have been really mad about something..." Harry said quietly. "I don't think this was the best plan I've ever had..."

This room, in particular, was eerily quiet. Before there had been the sounds of water dripping or the keys flying to try keeping his mind off of where he really was. But here, in the dim light of a lost battle, things really began sinking in.

Harry walked to the other side of the room, clutching his wand in a painfully-tight grip, his fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm. On the up side, he was smaller and faster than his Potions professor. He was also quite used to physical pain, which had to work out in his favor at some point in his life. The trouble was that he wasn't sure what kind of spells Snape was wielding. It was obvious that they had a severe amount of power to cause such devastation in all of the rooms he had been through so far.

Before reaching the door, a stench caught Harry offguard, causing him to pull his shirt up and over his nose. It smelled, to Harry, as if someone had let a few dozen rotting corpses loose somewhere nearby. If Fluffy's body, with all of its wounds had been in any indication, that is, as Harry had never personally encountered a corpse. And, he thought as he reached for the door's handle, he hoped he never would.

But even as he opened the door, he thought the stench was vaguely familiar. It was only after he had ventured further into the next room that he realized why. Against one of the walls was a giant troll, slumped over away from Harry. While it seemed to be like the one Harry and his friends had encountered in the dungeons months before, as he drew closer, he saw it had a different color and build entirely.

He also saw that its head was no longer still connected with its body. It sat, upside down, just to the side of its body. The look in the troll's eyes was of dumb surprise, as if it had expected anything but to be prematurely sent to death's door. Feeling rather nauseated now, Harry looked away and began breathing shallowly through his mouth. The smell wasn't as strong that way, though it was almost as if he could taste the stench, then.

It was still better.

Running to the far door as quickly as his legs could take him, Harry flung it open and rushed inside. Whatever was in the new room couldn't be as awful as what he had just left behind, after all. Indeed, all Harry saw was what appeared to be a table in the center of the room.
On it were a set of bottles in various sizes, filled with liquids of different colors.

Harry walked towards the table, reasoning that the chess board might have belonged to Professor Sinistra or McGonagall, as they seemed to be two of the smartest teachers at the school. The troll, however, Harry couldn't work out. Why a troll would be in that room, along with how the thing would eat to stay alive, couldn't puzzle Harry for long - At that moment, fire had burst from the floor in front of both doors to the room. The one back to the troll's room was purple, and the one ahead was black.

"Just what I needed." Harry grumbled as he stepped up to the table. Curiously enough, neither the table nor the bottles on it seemed to be disturbed in the least. Seemed like Potions work to Harry, which only further made him think that Snape was really the culprit. After all, wouldn't Snape simply be able to brew himself up more potion to get by the flames?

A roll of parchment was next to the bottles. With an annoyed sigh, Harry walked over, picked up the paper, and began to read.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Elsewhere in the castle, one young girl tossed and turned in her sleep, unable to find a peaceful night's rest. Opening her eyes, which were a pale blue at the moment, one Nymphadora Tonks sat up in bed and rubbed at her eyes. Whether she had eaten something bad for supper that night or whether something was wrong, she didn't rightly know. But something was definitely keeping her from getting her beauty sleep.

Yanking away her blankets, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped out. Squeaking quietly as the cold, stone floor hit her bare feet, she rushed to get dressed. She might not have the kind of invisibility that Harry had when he went out for midnight strolls through the castle, but she had learned the spells he used to keep himself silent when he moved around. Maybe a good, long walk would help tire her out so that she could sleep away the rest of the night.

Tossing her pajamas back onto her bed, Tonks charmed herself just like Harry usually did and proceeded out of the first year girls' dorm. Grumbling under her breath about insomnia, she made her way up to the common room. Aside from several fifth and seventh years who had fallen asleep while studying the night before, no one was awake.

Tonks slipped down the arched passageway leading out of Ravenclaw Tower, lightly tapping on Walter's portrait as she came to it. The old wizard in the painting snorted as he was awakened yet again. "Huh? What? ... Oh... Someone else wanting to get out at this hour? You should be in bed!" Said Walter, groggily.

"It's me!" Tonks whispered. "...And whatta ya mean 'again'? Who else managed to escape?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, yes... here, let me speak to you properly." Walter said, swinging open.

Tonks walked out, letting him close behind her. "There. Now then, who else came out?"

"Harry did, about an hour or so ago. Something about an emergency."

"He hasn't come back?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

Tonks frowned. Harry wouldn't go off and claim it was an emergecy unless something was really bothering him. Turning, Tonks took off in a run, deciding to head for the hospital wing to see if he had admitted himself for some reason or another. As she ran, she felt something feel as if it were pulling at her insides. Something felt very, very wrong.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Harry scowled. He might have been a Ravenclaw and had the ability to work things out quickly, but it didn't change the fact that he absolutely hated word puzzles. From what he had worked out so far, there were two potions among the seven were used to get through the fire that burned before either of the room's two exits. One to go back the way he had come from, one to go forward to whatever was in the next room.

Two of the potions held wine and three seemed to kill you upon ingestion. Running a hand back through his hand in annoyance, Harry reread what was on the paper. "'Second, different are those who stand at either end, but if you would move onward, neither is your friend...' So...I can cross off both potions on either end as to being the ones that get me through..."

Licking his lips, Harry decided to use his wand to help mark what was in what bottle. "Okay, let's see... neither of the end bottles are useful for getting me ahead. The one on the far right can't be poison, though, since 'you will always find some on nettle wine's left side' and since no bottles are to the right of it, it's safe. So that bottle must get me back through the purple fire."

Harry gazed at the five remaining bottles, glancing briefly back at the paper. "...'Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides' huh? Well, the one to the left of the rightmost bottle can't be poison, since it isn't to the left of any wine. If the bottle next to the leftmost bottle is poison, then the second to the left is wine. And that would make the 'giant' bottle wine, as well, since 'the second left and second on the right are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight'..."

Harry smiled and reached out, grabbing the third bottle from the left - the 'dwarf,' as the paper called it. "The first bottle is poison, to the left of some wine. The third is the one that gets me through the black fire. The fourth and fifth bottles are poison, and the giant bottle is filled with wine. The final gets me back through the purple flames! Take that, you greasy git!"

Feeling confident, Harry gulped down the contents of the third, tiny bottle. Certainly not feeling poisoned, Harry smirked and set the bottle back down, rushing forward and, closing his eyes, leapt through the black flames.

Quickly realizing that he wasn't harmed in any way, Harry grabbed the door handle and flung the door open. He gaped at what he saw before him.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

"He isn't here, he isn't here!" Tonks whined to herself, bouncing on the spot as she took in the hospital wing's currently-empty beds. No one was presently injured and in need of Madam Pomfrey's care.

The knot in her stomach grew as she quickly scurried back out of the hospital wing before she alerted the mediwitch from her office. Tonks stood just outside the door and nibbled at her lower lip. The most obvious place to go was to the headmaster's office. But as it was very late and as she didn't know the password to gain entry, going there wasn't much good.

With no other option, Tonks took off in another dead sprint, hoping that Professor Flitwick was still awake. As she ran, a single thought kept repeating, over and over, in her mind: 'Please be alright, please be alright...'

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Professor Snape stood, wand in hand, looking fit to kill. However, he wasn't aiming at Harry - far from it. For across the room, wand also drawn, was Professor Quirrell, who was aiming back at Snape.

Both turned to look at Harry as he burst into the room.

"Potter?!" The two professors quickly spat out at the same time, heads snapping back to glare at one another shortly thereafter.

"Disarm him, Potter! I have him covered!" Growled Snape, eyes narrowed.

"H-He's trying to t-take the Stone!" Quirrell stuttered. "D-Disarm HIM!"

Harry stared at the two. He had only been expecting Snape down in the final room. Having Quirrell there was something entirely out of Harry's nonexistant plans. Nonetheless, it was nice knowing that he wasn't alone in taking on his seemingly psychotic potions professor.
Harry raised his wand and aimed at Snape, who goggled at him out of the corner of his eyes.

"Potter, don't be stupid!" Snape roared. "Quirrell is the traitor! He is the one who has sought out the Stone all this time!"

"P-Potter is smarter than you g-give him c-c-credit for, Severus!" Said Quirrell in a disturbingly calm way, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Always w-was smarter than he h-had any business b-b-being."

"You tried cursing me off of my broom during Quidditch." Harry said, voice quiet. "...And I saw you walk by with your robes all torn up."

"I was trying to stop HIM!" Yelled Snape, still refusing to take his eyes - or his wand - away from Quirrell. "Surely you noticed that HE was strangely absent when the troll was let in during Halloween!"

Harry blinked. "That's a good point..." He said, despite the fact that Snape had said it. Harry turned to look at Quirrell, who seemed more than a little aggitated.

"I was out patrolling the dungeons because I had a feeling Severus would try something funny to cause a distraction!" He said. Neither Harry nor Snape noticed the lack of stuttering.

"A feeble excuse, Quirinus." Snape snarled. "I had been at the staff table for the whole of the evening. Surely, one of my Slytherins would have caught sight of the troll before coming up that night."

Quirrell glared at Snape. "As if you actually care about the safety of any of the students in this place!" He said.

Harry frowned suddenly.

"Wait a second," He said, looking strangely at Quirrell. "You aren't stuttering anymore..."

Snape's eyebrows went up momentarily. His eyes narrowed even further. "Yes... you aren't. Care to explain this, Quirinus?"

"I-It comes and goes!" Quirrell said, looking nervous for the first time.

Harry looked back and forth between Snape and Quirrell, now unsure of who to trust. All of the evidence had pointed towards his Potions professor... but if he was the one behind everything, why was Quirrell acting so decidedly unlike himself? Something wasn't right. Something definitely wasn't right.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Professor Flitwick! Professor Flitwick! Ohh, please be awake!" Tonks cried, knocking rapidly on the door to the little wizard's office on the seventh floor. She was out of breath and felt slightly ill from the amount of running she had been doing.

The door opened seconds later, revealing Flitwick in a small set of pajamas. Looking up at his second visitor in as many hours, he asked,
"Miss Tonks? Is everything alright?"

"No! At least... no, I don't think so!" Tonks said, nibbling at her lower lip. "I think something's happened to Harry... have you seen him at all tonight?"

Flitwick blinked. "I have... He came here earlier, in fact."

"Did he say anything... strange?"

Flitwick tilted his head to the side, looking up at the worry in Tonks' face. "He did, actually."

"Where did he go after he left?"

"I'm not sure. I take it he didn't return?"

"No... Walter said he didn't let anyone back in after Harry left. I... Professor, we know what's o--"

"I know, Miss Tonks, Harry told me quite a bit about what you've learned this year." Said Flitwick, smiling slightly up at Tonks. "I must say, I was impressed, to a point. He seemed to think, however, that Severus was trying to get at what was hidden."

Tonks blinked, but realized that Flitwick wouldn't go saying what it was that was hidden, talking to her as he was. "Professor, I... I think Harry might have gone to that dog's room to check to make sure everything's alright. I've had this sicky feeling in my stomach ever since I woke up..."

Now Flitwick looked worried. "Surely Mr. Potter is wiser than to go back there..."

"Not if he thought he didn't have a choice... you don't know him like I do, sir... If Snape got his hands on the-- on... what's hidden there,
then who knows what he'd do. He doesn't exactly seem to like the students, you know..."

Flitwick nervously twisted at the bottom of his pajama top. "I still think that Severus being involved is silly, but... I'll contact his quarters to see if he's in. Please, come in, Miss Tonks."

Tonks nodded and stepped inside, closing the door behind her as Flitwick threw some powder into the fire and called out, "Severus Snape's office!"

The fire flared, and Flitwick called out to Snape, but there was no answer. A moment later, he tried again, getting the same response. The flames died down and the tiny wizard turned back to Tonks with a worried look on his face. "I need to get to Minerva's office. I fear that I've made a very serious mistake."

Tonks' stomach, which had been so very knotted up, promptly bottomed out.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

"HEX HIM, POTTER!" Snape yelled.

"H-he's not an idiot, Severus!" Quirrell yelled back, his stuttering seeming to be rather poor at this point.

Harry's mind whirled as he tried working out who to trust. Looking to Snape, he asked, "What were you doing to me at that Quidditch match, if you weren't the one trying to knock me off my broom?"

"I was saying the counter-curse, foolish boy!" Snape said, darkly. "Because he was the one trying to knock you off!"

"I d-did no such thing!" Quirrell argued. "Severus has never liked you, Potter! Surely you've realized why he wants the Stone by now!"

"I have no desire for the thing." Snape growled. "Potter! I assume you've noticed that the challenges along the way. You do realize who created them, haven't you?"

"...Well... Hagrid must have given Professor Dumbledore the dog, Sprout worked with the plants, Flitwick on the keys... I'm not sure who set up the chess board, though."

"Minerva." Quirrell said quickly, beating Snape to it.

"Alright... She did that, then. Then there was a troll, but I don't know who would put that there. Then there was your Potions test." Harry said, nodding to Snape.

"I'm surprised you made it through." Sniped Snape. "But that is not the point. Put two and two together, Potter!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"The troll! That isn't the first you've seen this year!" Snape yelled.

"Of course it isn't the first one I've seen this year!" Harry yelled back, feeling thoroughly annoyed now. "The first was back on Halloween when we--"

Something in Harry's mind clicked into place. He slowly rounded on Quirrell, who was looking decidedly nervous now. "...when we had to go save Tonks after you burst into the Great Hall, saying there was a troll loose in the dungeons."

"I told you, I was p-p-patrolling the dungeons!" Quirrell exclaimed.

"Why?" Snape asked, sneering. "Was there something you were expecting to arrive that night? The dungeons are perfectly safe unless someone lets something in, you know..."

Quirrell looked back and forth between Snape and Quirrell. Things seemed to be falling into place faster and faster now. But before Harry could say anything further, a fourth voice filled the air. It was high and sent shivers down Harry's spine. Snape seemed to be affected, as well, as he suddenly turned as pale as a ghost, his eyes wide and fearful.

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

It seemed to be coming from Quirrell's direction, though the Defense teacher wasn't moving his lips. Indeed, he seemed to be slightly confused now, as well. Eyes raised as if glancing to the ceiling, he murmured, "Master... are you sure? Are you strong enough...?"

"I...am strong enough... for this." Said the voice again.

And still, Snape seemed frozen to the spot. Harry gave him a bemused look before focusing his attention back on Quirrell, who had reached up and was unravelling his turban. Once it was off, he slowly turned around.

What Harry saw would have made him scream out, if he could have made a sound at all. As it was, all he could do was stand and stare in horror at what he saw. On the back of Quirrell's bald head was a second face. It was whiter than even Snape's face currently was. It had thin, red eyes and slits for nostrils, giving it a rather snake-like appearance.

"Harry Potter..." Hissed the voice, the corners of its mouth raising slightly. "Look... at what I have been reduced to because of you..."

At once, Harry's scar exploded into pain, causing him to break eye contact with the snake-like face and clutch at it. It was the most horrid feeling Harry had ever experienced - almost as if someone were shoving white hot pokers through his forehead from the inside.

"A pathetic shadow of my former self... capable only of form when sharing another's body. There have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds. Everyone has a price, Potter!" Said the face, smiling in an almost demonic way now.

As Harry stumbled backwards, still clutching his forehead and barely taking in what the face was saying, it ordered Quirrell to turn to the side slightly. Quirrell did as he was told, leaving the face pointed towards Snape.

"Severus..." It said slowly, eyes narrowing. "You have constantly tried to halt our progress in attaining the Stone. Explain yourself."

"I had no idea, my Lord." Snape said quickly, somehow keeping his voice calm. "Had I known that--"

"Silence!" Hissed the face again. "Quirrell... show Severus the price he must pay for his perfidy..."

"Yes, Master." Quirrell said, spinning around and raising his wand at Snape once more, a grim smile on the man's face. "Crucio!"

Snape gasped as the spell hit him, dropping down to his knees and crying out for the brifest of moments. Hands clenched to fists and muscles screamed out in pain, but no sounds came from the potions master.

"You never did scream." Said the face in an almost disappointed tone. "Again."

"Crucio!" Quirrell cried again.

This time, the spell seemed to hit Snape harder than before. He let out a cry of anguish and dropped to all fours, wobbling slightly as the spell caused him such pain.

"AGAIN!" Roared the face.

"CRUCIO!"

The third strike was too much for Snape, who only briefly managed to lock eyes with Harry before crumpling entirely, his wand clattering down a few feet away from him.

Harry, who had only just stopped feeling pain coursing through his head, couldn't quite make out the look on his professor's face as the man fell. At this point, Harry supposed darkly, it didn't much matter.

"Now then... COME HERE." Said the face. Quirrell was facing Harry again, though he could see the creature's face in...

Harry's eyebrows raised. So caught up in the fight between Snape and Quirrell, he never noticed an all-too-familiar sight. Standing just off to one side of Quirrell was the Mirror of Erised.

Quirrell narrowed his eyes at Harry and motioned towards the Mirror. "What does this mirror do? How does it work?" He asked, voice quiet. "I know it is the key to finding the Stone, but I cannot make it work!"

"Use him." Came the high-pitched voice on the back of the professor's head. "Use the boy!"

"Come here, Potter. Look in this mirror and tell me what you see!" Growled Quirrell, aiming his wand at Harry's chest.

Swallowing hard, Harry slowly crossed the room. He was no match for Quirrell and Voldemort. During the time when his scar had begun searing, he had experienced quick flashes of things he had only seen in his nightmares previously. Blurry faces, someone screaming, a green flash of light, and then...

And then there was that face, laughing hideously.

And Harry knew at that moment. Somehow, Voldemort had survived having the Killing Curse rebounded at him. Somehow, he had survived all of these years. And somehow, through whatever curse of bad luck, he had found Quirrell and merged with him.

He was completely outclassed, but he knew something neither Quirrell nor Voldemort knew. He knew how the Mirror worked. Maybe - just maybe - he would be able to deceive both of them. It was a long shot, and he would probably get killed if he was found out, but it was a chance he had to take. At the very least, it might buy some time... not that Harry felt that anyone was going to burst in and save him at the last minute. That seemed too convenient. And his life, he had learned over time, was anything but convenient.

Harry stepped up in front of the Mirror, Quirrell watching on with interest to his side. After a moment of silence, the Defense professor asked impatiently, "Well?! What do you see?!"

"I... I see my parents. I see myself winning the Quidditch Cup for Ravenclaw... I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore." Harry said.
However, even as he said these words, his reflection grinned back at him, producing a sizable red stone from somewhere behind his body.
It tossed it from one hand to the other, gave the real Harry a wink, and dropped the stone into one of his pockets. As his reflection did this, Harry felt something heavy fall into his own pocket. He had somehow managed to get ahold of the Stone.

Quirrell scowled and shoved Harry out of the way. Harry fell hard onto the side that the Stone was hidden on. When he hit the floor, the soft noise of something other than a human body hitting the ground filled the air. Harry swore inwardly.

Quirrell turned to him slowly, brows creased in confusion. "Potter. What was that sound?"

"It...it was my wand." Harry said.

"He lies!" Voldemort's face hissed. "HE LIES! SEIZE HIM!"

Quirrell charged at Harry. This was it - Harry was going to die and Quirrell, with Voldemort's face sticking out of the back of his head, was going to kill him and steal the Stone. Unable to get his wand around to shoot off any kind of spell, Harry brought up his arms and legs to try and keep Quirrell's hands off of him.

But Harry was an eleven year-old boy and Quirrell was a grown man with much longer limbs. Quirrell's hands reached out and grabbed hold of Harry's throat, squeezing as tightly as he could. Harry choked, grabbing at Quirrell's arms with his hands and trying to push the man away with his feet.

Something began to sizzle faintly. Suddenly, Quirrell let out a sharp cry of pain and took a stumbling step backward. Harry gasped, trying to refill his lungs with oxygen.

"What are you doing?!" Voldemort shrieked. "SEIZE HIM!!"

"Master! I...I can't! My hands...!" Quirrell whimpered, gazing at his palms, which were now red and raw, as if he had placed them up directly into a fire. The robes covering his arms also seemed to have taken damage, as they had been burned through most of the way. The fabric was still giving off smoke.

"KILL him, then!" Voldemort howled. "Kill him and be done with it! We can take the Stone from his corpse!"

Quirrell grabbed painfully at his wand and aimed at Harry. Harry, of course, hadn't spent the entire time gaping at Quirrell's injuries - he had gotten up and was currently in a crouch, his own wand just out of his reach. He could try making a grab for it, but what would come of that? He would be killed before he got to it.

Harry's mind raced, trying to work out what had caused Quirrell's injuries. His hands and robes had been fine before he grabbed Harry's throat and before Harry had grabbed his robes. Almost as if someone had held up a sign with the answer on it in large letters, it hit him. For whatever reason, Quirrell couldn't touch him!

Using his position to give himself momentum, Harry lunged for Quirrell, who had started hissing out the Killing Curse. Harry's hands shot out and grabbed ahold of Quirrell head before he managed to get off the last part of the spell, however. The reaction was almost instantaneous.

Quirrell let out a shrill cry of pain, his wand falling out of his hand as he raised them both to try prying Harry's hands away from his face. But Harry held on tight, his fingers spread out across the man's features. Through his screams, Quirrell gave up trying to get Harry's hands off of his face, choosing instead to resume choking Harry. If he couldn't get Harry off manually, he would choke the boy until he passed out, despite the excruciating pain he was in.

Harry wasn't sure how much more he could take. He was holding fast to Quirrell's face, which blistered and bubbles under and around his grip... But he was losing oxygen to his brain and was beginning to black out. As the darkness began to take him after what seemed like forever, Harry thought he heard a voice crying out to him. Whose voice, however, Harry couldn't work out. The only thing his oxygen-deprived brain could manage to think of as he fell unconscious was that he would never get to see his best friend's ever again.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Author's Notes: I can't believe I made a whole chapter to get through those rooms. Tension building, I guess. Another cliffhanger of an ending, too. Aren't I just evil? Get used to it, folks, I have four more canonical books to get through. Six if Half-Blood Prince comes out before I get finished with OotP: Reassembled.

Also, I spent like twenty minutes doodling seven potion bottles and working out what container held what liquid. I suck wind at word problems, but I don't think there's any other way that Snape's challenge can be set up. Poison, Wine, (Small Bottle) Black Fire, Poison, Poison, (Large Bottle) Wine, Purple Fire. Go on, draw it for yourself and work the problem out on your own if you don't believe me. It BETTER be right for all the annoyance it was to work out.

This thing's 34.5kB, though it feels a lot longer. I wrote it all in one sitting just a single night after writing 21, which is unlike me. However, once I got rolling, I knew I couldn't stop, lest I lose my pace. I hope my version of the final chamber was adequate. I really like Snape as a character and thought it would make for interesting future events if he was there when Quirrellmort took off the turban. In addition, I have one more surprise to come from this battle. But that's for Chapter 23, I'm afraid. Until then, folks... Enjoy the cliffhanger. Mwahahaha!