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Chapter 17:
"Bloody hell! If I hear one more word out of you, Draco, I swear I'll curse you into the next millennia!"
Harry was pissed off. It was the week of the exams, and Harry and Draco were trying to squeeze in some last minute revision. Unfortunately for Harry, Blaise had disappeared and Isis was nowhere to be found, leaving Harry to deal with Draco's complaints alone while still trying to memorize the twelve uses of dragon's blood. Needless to say, he was feeling anything but pleased. Just as Harry was berating Draco for setting fire to his notes (Draco was taking out his frustration on his Charms revision) Ronald Weasley showed up, obviously looking for a fight.
"Shut up, go away, and leave us the hell alone before you hurt yourself," said Harry before the redhead could open his mouth.
"Make me," said Ronald, adopting what he obviously hoped was an intimidating scowl, but which just gave him a slightly constipated look.
Sneering at the childish comeback, Harry drew his wand and pointed it directly at the Gryffindor. Weasley flinched and moved away slightly so as the wand was not touching his chest.
"Leave now, or you will regret it. I have just been revising Defence Against the Dark Arts and have been looking for someone to test the curses on."
Glaring, Weasley backed down, muttering under his breath about "slimy Slytherins who think they own everything".
"Correction, we don't think we own everything, we know we do," drawled Draco as he closed his Charms textbook, Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1. "You, on the other hand, own nothing except hand-me-down robes and a bad haircut."
Smirking, the two Slytherins turned back to their work, totally ignoring the Weasel, who, finally realising he couldn't win, left in defeat.
"Well that was fun," remarked Draco. "Annoying Weasley always puts me in a good mood."
"Mmm," said Harry, turning back to his work. "It's a pity that Blaise missed it, she's so talented at thinking up insults."
Harry had hardly seen Blaise in the past couple of days. She spent her whole time down in the depths of the castle, researching Metamorphmagi. She refused to show the two boys how far she had come, and had placed heavy wards around her, which electrocuted anyone within twenty feet. She had given up on the idea of studying, saying that if she didn't yet know how to make a pineapple tap dance across a desk, it was unlikely that she ever would. She did turn up for the actual exams though, and complained along with the rest of them at having to transfigure a mouse into a snuffbox.
Harry did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead, which had been bothering him since his trip into the forest. He had a permanent headache, but that could just be from the sweltering heat. The classrooms in which they did their written exams were particularly awful. The professors didn't seem to know the meaning of cooling charms, leaving the students to struggle valiantly on, desperately waiting for it all to end. They had been given special, new quills for the exams that had been bewitched with Anti-Cheating spells. Most of the Slytherins were, as usual, trying to cheat, and were trying their hardest to bribe or blackmail information on how to get round the spells from their fellow students. Unfortunately, Harry, Draco and Blaise couldn't get their hands on any counter curses or loopholes, and had to content themselves with being reluctantly honest. Harry had tried to talk Nemesis into sneaking into the exams and whispering all the answers to him, but it didn't work. Nemesis had chosen just that week to visit some friends of hers in the forbidden forest, and refused to stay and help him out.
You traitor! hissed Harry, indignantly. As soon as I need you, you disappear.
Well excusssse me for wanting a sssssocial life. You sssshould have assssked me earlier. My entire being doessssn't revolve around you, you know, hissed Isis in return. And another thing, how the hell do you expect me to memorizzzzze everything in the sssspace of two daysssss, when you've had an entire year and sssssstill don't know it?
Okay, so you might have a point. I still think its cruel of you to abandon me to my fate though.
Harry, It'sss jussst an exam. It isssn't the end of the world. Honesssstly, you humanssss, you alwaysssss overreact.
Hey! I resent that! And you're starting to sound like Blaise. Harry hissed, grinning.
And I'm sssupossed to care why? Blaisssssse is sssssomeone that you should be proud to sssssound like. smirked Isis in return. Anyway, I've got to go. I've got a date with a very attractive viper I met lassssst week.
Good luck! Don't do anything I wouldn't do! called Harry after the retreating form of his friend before setting off in search of Draco, resigned to having to get through the exams without any illicit help.
For the most part, Harry did okay. He always enjoyed Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, and Potions wasn't that bad either. The very last exam was the worst. It was History of Magic, which, in Harry's opinion, was the most boring subject on earth. Listening to Professor Binns drone on about goblin rebellions was a form of mental torture. After one hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who invented self-stirring cauldron, they were free – free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. The whole school lazed around by the lake, basking in the sun, and the Slytherin prefects had arranged another party in their common room, which Harry was definitely looking forward to.
That evening at dinner, as they were discussing what they were going to do during the holidays, Harry realised with a jolt of foreboding that Dumbledore wasn't there. The senile old wizard had never missed a meal before, and Harry was definitely worried.
"Um, do you know where Dumbledore's got to?" he asked Lucretia Parks, a sixth year prefect.
"Oh, he's been called away for an urgent meeting at the Ministry of Magic. At least, I think it was something like that. Professor McGonnagal was telling me and I didn't bother to pay any attention. Why do you care anyway?" The girl asked suspiciously.
"Oh, no reason," said Harry, trying to sound off-hand and nonchalant but failing miserably as he was filled with dread.
"Are you planning a prank or what?" asked the prefect good-naturedly. "If you are, don't worry about it. I won't tell anyone. You really have to work on your deception skills though. A Hufflepuff would no you were lying."
Nodding weakly and muttering his thanks, Harry hurriedly got up from the table, grabbed Blaise and Draco, and practically ran from the hall.
"Hey, what the hell was that for," said Blaise, pissed off. "I didn't get to hear the end of Theo's joke and I haven't finished eating."
"Look, whoever's after the stone will try to get it tonight," whispered Harry urgently. "Dumbledore isn't here, he's left the castle. The thief won't pass this chance up."
"Shit! What the hell should we do?" asked Blaise.
"Erm, I haven't thought that far yet," admitted Harry.
"Leave the planning to me," drawled Draco firmly. "I'm the only one with any brains around here. Okay, let me see. Um…no, that wouldn't work. Maybe…um,err,"
"For someone who keeps reminding us how clever he is, you aren't doing a very good job," smirked Harry.
"Shut up and let me think!" snapped Draco, put out. After a couple of minutes of deep thought, he finally said, "Okay, I've got it figured. I'll go down the Parseltongue passageway and try and get the stone before Quirrell or Snape get it. As soon as I have it, I'll run back to the common room. There's no point me hanging around and getting killed. You two should head to the third floor corridor and try to get through the enchantments guarding the Stone. That way, if I get there and the Stone's already gone, you can try and stop anyone going past as you'll be blocking the exit. Don't hang around for to long though. You guys wouldn't last a minute against a fully trained wizard. Just grab the Stone and leave. If things look really bad, Blaise can morph into Dumbledore and pretend to come to our rescue. Whoever is trying to steal the stone will hopefully be scared away by the sight of the Headmaster."
"But I can't morph properly yet," pointed out Blaise.
"Well you'll just have to try harder, won't you," replied Draco impatiently.
"What if the both Quirrell and Snape are there?" asked Harry. "We couldn't possibly manage to hold our own against both of them."
"If that happens, you'll either have to fight them and get killed, or, a much better idea, distract them long enough for us to come and help you," drawled Draco. "To get the Stone or die trying is our objective here."
"Yeah, you're right," agreed Harry, solemnly. "If we don't get it, Voldemort will return and the Wizarding World will be plunged into darkness. Thousands of innocent people would lose their lives."
"Okay," drawled Draco. "I was more thinking along the lines of us getting unending life and riches, but hey, whatever works for you. Anyway, does everyone know what they're doing?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Good, let's go then."
Splitting up, the three Slytherins went their own ways. Draco slowly sauntered off towards the dungeons, looking like he hadn't got a care in the world, and Blaise and Harry ran up to the third floor corridor. Once they got there, they saw that the door was already open. Fearlessly, Blaise strode into the room, with Harry creeping along behind her, convinced that at any second he'd become dog food. He needn't have worried though. Once inside, he saw the monster lying on the ground, a harp playing a lullaby beside it.
"Awww, look. Little Fluffy's asleep. Doesn't he look so cute?" said Blaise, making baby noises.
"Err, yeah, sure," said Harry dubiously, eyeing the monster with distaste. When Blaise glared at him, he hurriedly continued. "Of course you're right. Giant three-headed dogs drooling all over the floors are absolutely adorable. Now can we get going before he wakes up?"
"Alright then," said Blaise reluctantly. "I suppose I can visit Fluffy later."
After lifting up the trap door in the middle of the room, Harry and Blaise looked at each other. "Erm, so do you want to go first?" asked Blaise. Cautiously Harry stepped closer, and looked down over the edge of the trap door. There was no sign of the bottom.
"No thanks, I think I'll pass," said Harry hastily. Just as he was about to back away, Blaise reached out and pushed him, hard, sending him flying face forwards through the hole. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down, and –
FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft.
"Fuck! Blaise, what the hell did you do that for!" growled Harry, letting off a stream of expletives.
"Oh, don't be such a wuss, you didn't hurt yourself, did you. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and tell me what's down there." said Blaise Still muttering curses under his breath, Harry sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some plant of some kind. He was just about to shout up at Blaise to come down, when he realised that the plant was slowly twisting snakelike tendrils around his ankles. Struggling, Harry managed to free himself before the plant got a firm grip on him. He recognised it from Herbology. He couldn't remember the name, but he knew it was a man-eating plant which hated warmth and bright light. Standing far out of reach of it, with an evil grin on his face, Harry called up,
"It's OK! It's a soft landing, you can jump!" Blaise followed straight away and landed sprawling right in the middle of the plant.
"What's this thing doing here?" she asked, not seeming to notice that it was starting to curl round her legs and arms. "Is it supposed to break the fall or what?"
"Don't ask me," shrugged Harry, inwardly jumping with joy, as his friend got more and more tangled up in the plant. It took a few more seconds for Blaise to notice anything was wrong. When she did she let out a blood-curdling shriek.
"Help! It's attacking me!" she cried while struggling to free herself. "Don't just stand there, Harry. Help me!"
"Hmm," said Harry, pretending to think it over. "How about no."
"Harry please," wailed Blaise in panic as she tried to pull the plant off her but only succeeded to make it worse. "I'll do anything you say."
"Alright then," said Harry gleefully. "Repeat after me. 'I, Blaise'."
"I, Blaise," she spat out, obviously knowing what was going to come next.
"Admit that Harry Potter is supreme ruler of the entire universe, and that he is the most good-looking guy I have ever seen."
Unwillingly, Blaise choked out the words. As soon as she did so, Harry raised his wand and conjured up a small fire. In a matter of seconds, the plant loosened its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unravelled itself from Blaise's body, and she was able to pull free.
"Just you wait," she growled at a laughing Harry. "When we get out of here…"
"This was for pushing me down the fucking trap door," said Harry. "We're even. Now stop complaining and let's get out of here."
Still glowering, Blaise followed Harry down a stone passageway, which was the only way on. All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. After carrying on for what seemed like hours, Blaise whispered.
"Can you here something?"
Harry listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead. Gripping their wands tightly, they reached the end of the tunnel and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side was a heavy, wooden door.
"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" said Blaise.
"Well, they don't look very vicious," replied Harry. "We may as well try. Better be quick though."
Taking a deep breath, they sprinted across the room, expecting to feel sharp beaks or claws tearing at them at any second, but nothing happened. They reached the door untouched. Harry reached out and pulled at the handle, but it was locked. He tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge. Not even when Blaise tried the Alohamora charm.
"Now what?" said Harry.
Not answering, Blaise grabbed a hair pin from her head, and bent down to the key-hole, picking the lock. With a small click, the lock slid back, allowing the door to be opened. Blaise grinned at Harry's dumbfounded expression.
"What, never seen anyone pick a lock before?"
"Well no, but that's not the point," said Harry. "I just don't see why anyone guarding something as precious as the Philosopher's Stone would make a door that could be opened by a mere Muggle!"
"Well, not many wizards know how to open doors with hair pins. They consider it beneath them," replied Blaise. "Now come on, we've wasted enough time as it is."
Opening the door, the two Slytherins stepped through the doorway into a room that flooded with light as soon as they stepped into it. Harry stared around in astonishment. They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard. Black and white chessmen, which were at least two metres tall and carved from stone, were standing to attention at either side of the board. Behind the white pieces they could see another door.
"Now what do we do?" asked Blaise.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Harry. "We've got to play our way across the room."
"How exactly?"
"I think," said Harry, "we're going to have to be chessmen."
He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Harry.
"Do we – er – have to join you to get across?" asked Harry nervously. The black knight nodded. Harry turned round to Blaise.
"This wants thinking about…" he said. "I suppose we have to take the places of two black pieces. Blaise, you can be a bishop, and I-"
"Screw this," said Blaise impatiently. Pulling out her wand, she shouted "Diffindo!" blowing up three of the pieces nearest her. Catching on, Harry also started shooting spells around. The chessmen tried to fight back, but they weren't fast enough. Between the two of them, Harry and Blaise soon had all the chessmen on the floor in pieces.
"Well that was easy," remarked Harry as Blaise dusted herself off. "Anyone could steal the damn Stone if it's all this simple."
Making their way to the door, they stepped through. A disgusting smell hit them, making both of them pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a massive troll out cold with a bloody lump on its head.
"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry remarked.
"Tell me about it," said Blaise wrinkling her nose in disgust. "I mean, hasn't that troll ever heard of a bath."
"Obviously not," choked out Harry. "Come on, I can't breathe."
He pulled open the next door and the two of them practically ran into the next room in their desperate attempt to get rid of the awful smell around them. As soon as they entered, flames sprang up behind them, blocking their exit. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At that same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onwards. They were trapped. In the centre of the room stood a table with seven differently shaped bottles on it.
"Look!" Blaise seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry look over her shoulder as she read it. It said:
Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
Another will transport the drinker back instead,
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,
Three of us our killers, waiting hidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here for ever more,
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;
Second, different are those who stand at either end,
But if you move onward, neither is your friend;
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.
"This must be by Professor Snape," said Harry. "We've already had Flitwicks, he must have charmed those birds, not that they were very useful. Sprouts was that man eating plant, and McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive."
"I never knew Snape was so poetical," remarked Blaise. "I wish he had been a bit clearer though. I can't make head or tail of this."
"Fuck! I don't have a clue either. I was hoping you would," frowned Harry. "So what do we do now then?"
"Well, we'll just have to test all the potions. I'll transfigure us some mice, they're easy enough to do, and then we can force feed them small amounts of the potions. If they die, then we know we gave them a poison."
"That still leaves us with four potions to choose from."
"We'll just have to send them through the fires then. Happy?"
"Not very," said Harry. "But I guess it's the best plan we've got."
Brandishing her wand, Blaise transfigured some stones on the ground into seven mice. After pouring a different potion down each ones throat, she sat back to watch them take effect. After a couple of seconds, one of the mice started to smoke, and soon burst into flames. A couple of seconds later, two others were killed off as well. One seemed be unable to breath, while the other expanded until it burst with a loud popping sound.
"Charming," said Harry sarcastically. "Trust Snape to think up such gruesome ways to die."
Blaise ignored him, busy levitating a mouse through the fire behind them. Nothing happened.
"Okay, so we know how to get back," said Blaise happily. "That's something anyway."
After a couple more experiments, they found that the smallest bottle allowed them to go forwards though the black fire. Frowning, Harry looked at the tiny bottle.
"There's only enough there for one of us," he said. "That's hardly one swallow." They looked at each other.
"Okay, here's what we do," said Blaise. "You take that one, and go forward. I'll take the one that lets you go back. I'll try and go through the secret passage and get in that way. You'll probably need back up."
"Okay, deal," said Harry picking up the smallest bottle and draining it. It was like ice was flooding through his body. With one last wave at Blaise, he put the bottle down and walked forward, through the black flames. It was the strangest sensation. He could see the flames, licking at his body but couldn't feel them. After a couple of moments of seeing nothing but dark fire, he was on the other side, in the last chamber. The first thing Harry saw the Mirror of Erised standing in the middle of the room, and in front of it was a man. His heart sinking, Harry realised he had come to late. Deciding that he may as well try to fight, Harry raised his wand and shouted "Stupefy!" The man dodged the spell, which missed him by inches. Whipping around, the man turned to face Harry. It was Quirrell.
"Ah, I was wondering whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter," said Quirrell calmly. Well, thought Harry, At least I don't have to deal with Snape as well.
"Surprised Potter? No doubt you didn't expect me, p-p-poor st-st-stuttering Professor Quirrell, to be here." It was then that Harry noticed that Quirrell's stutter had completely disappeared. I'd better do as Draco said and keep him talking, thought Harry.
"So it was all an act then? Really, you should make more of an effort. I suspected it was you all along," said Harry smirking.
"What!" cried Quirrell, nonplussed. "How?"
"Well, you trying to kill me at that Quidditch match was a small clue," said Harry sarcastically. "Of course, it could have been Snape, but he's not such a fool as to try and murder someone in front of the whole school."
"Oh, you think you're so clever boy, don't you," replied Quirrell, glaring at him nastily. "Yes, your dear Potions master wasn't involved. In fact, he was muttering the counter-curse. I'd have had you off that broom in seconds if he hadn't interfered. No matter, I'll just have to kill you now instead."
Quirrell waved his wand and muttered a binding curse. Throwing up a shield, Harry deflected the spell back to Quirrell. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around the man. Knowing he had only a short amount of time to get the stone, Harry rushed to the mirror and looked into it. I have to find the stone; I have to find the stone thought Harry in desperation. If I don't get it, Voldemort will come back into full power.. In the mirror, his reflection stared back at him, then smirked. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. Still wearing a smug grin, Harry's reflection winked and put the Stone back in its robes. As it did so, Harry felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow – incredibly – he'd got the Stone.
Just at that moment, Quirrell managed to break through the curse binding him, and shot another spell at Harry, freezing him where he stood. Suddenly a high, cold voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.
"Let me speak to him…face to face…"
"Master, you are not strong enough!" said Quirrell.
"I have strength enough for this…"
As Harry was ineffectually trying to break through the curse rooting him to the spot, Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. Confused, Harry watched as the turban fell away. Slowly, Quirrell turned round. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.
"Harry Potter," it whispered. Harry tried to reach his wand, but he still couldn't move.
"See what I have become?" said the face. "Mere shadow and vapour…I have form only when I share another's body… but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds…Unicorn blood has strengthened me these past weeks. Once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own…Now…why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"
So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Harry's body, and he backed away, reaching for his wand.
"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "One thing that you have yet to learn, is that there is no good or evil, only power, and those to weak to seek it. Better save your own life and join me… or you'll meet the same end as your parents…they died begging me for mercy."
This was obviously the wrong thing to say. Before, Harry was all-out terrified, but now he was raging with anger. Harry refused to let anyone, especially some psychotic megalomaniac, insult his parents. His body started to pulse with power, and with a deadly glare on his face, he started to attack. Soon curses were flying around the room. After dodging a dark cutting spell and three others Harry had never even heard of, he was finally hit with a disarming charm. His wand went flying out of his hand, leaving him without a weapon. Before Voldemort could cast another spell, Harry attacked again, this time physically. At last all his Karate lessons were paying off. Voldemort was obviously not expecting the attack, and was caught by surprise. After Harry had landed a couple of kicks and punches, making Quirrell double up in pain, Voldemort cried out,
"Seize him!" Obeying his master, Quirrell started fighting back and managed to grab Harry around the neck. Harry yelled in agony as his scar exploded in pain. But to his surprise, he wasn't the only one screaming. Quirrell had let go of him, and was hunched in pain, looking at his fingers-they were blistering before his eyes.
"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort again and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet, landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck. Harry's scar was almost blinding him with pain, yet he could still see Quirrell howling in agony.
"Master, I cannot hold him - my hands - my hands!"
And Quirrell, though pinning Harry to the ground with his knees, let go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms. Harry could see they looked burnt, raw, red and shiny.
"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort.
Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face.
"AAAAARGH!"
Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn't touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain. His only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him performing the curse.
Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off. The pain in Harry's head was building. He couldn't see, he could only hear Quirrell's shrieks of pain and Voldemort's yells of "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!"
He felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from his grasp, and knew all was lost. His last thought was Oh well, I'll just have to come back as a ghost and haunt him, instead before he fell into blackness. Down…down…down…
A/N Another chapter out! Please tell me what you think. Thanks to all my reviewers. You guys are so encouraging. Which is why I'm writing this instead of studying for an exam that's coming up. For all those people who asked me if I was going to write all the books, the answer is yes. It might take me a while, but I plan on writing all of them.
Anna may: Don't worry. If I do put any romance in, it will only be in the fourth or fifth book.
Thanks to: DarkQueenD, Alligator355, bookworm04, lillinfields, ShadowFox20 ), HPfan9999999, mikomi-nad, baby chaos, anna may, SiLvErFaTeD, Strandy, Mystic10, SithelfJen, henriette, sab, I'm not the weakest link, and athenakitty, who all reviewed my last chapter.
Beta note: I'm guessing that there will only be a couple of chapters left here before the end. But, hey, I'm just the beta! Au revoir! –Jeni Black