Alduin was a little worried the tiny drop of potion they had would not be enough to render them immune to the flames, but Kingsley had been right. It worked. He only felt a slight tingling and then they were through, in the last chamber, a middle-sized room with nothing but the mirror in it, and the man in front of it.
They even managed to get inside unseen. Quirrell was concentrating on the Mirror of Erised and there was no chance for him to notice the small disturbance in the flames as they passed.
He was pacing, muttering to himself. "This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," he said, tapping the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this… but he's in London… I'll be far away by the time he gets back…I don't understand… is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?" There was a pause. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"
It was a very good thing that Alduin had non-verbally put a silencing spell on the area they were in again, because Harry yelped when, suddenly, a voice answered, a voice that seemed to come from Quirrell, even though his lips were not moving. "You must take the mirror apart...analyse the enchantments on it..."
Alduin was not that far from yelping himself, or at least screaming in sheer terror. Possession. Why had the possibility never occurred to him?
He knew why, of course. Quirrell had been Harry's teacher for the last three months. Not even in his worst nightmares had Alduin imagined Dumbledore actually allowing the Dark Lord to teach at his school.
Perhaps the Headmaster didn't know? Alduin certainly hoped so, Still, it was disturbing he couldn't tell for sure.
Harry gave him a terrified look under the cloak, and Alduin almost screamed again, this time in frustration and despair. He swore to protect Harry, and what had he done? Brought him right along with him to a room with Voldemort, and allowed them to be locked in by flames.
He would have been afarid, very afraid, even had he been alone. Unlike Lily or James, he had never faced Riddle directly, preferring to help from behind the scenes as much as he could, researching new spells and supplying money. Even in the last year of war, when his involvement had been more direct, he never faced anyone more horrifying than Lucius.
But the fact that Harry was here...well, that turned it into a completely new kind of horror. One that made him want to just freeze.
He reached for his training from the war, and pushed all of those unproductive emotions as far away as his mediocre Occlumency allowed. Now was not the time. He could have a panic attack later at leisure.
The number one priority now was finding a way to get Harry out of here and through the flames without burning him, if at all possible. If it came to it, he would of course throw the boy through and let Kingsley put him out, but it was better to try and find another way.
Meanwhile, Quirrell started to cast the diagnostic spells, and Alduin allowed himself to be distracted for a moment, watching attentively, observing the results that appeared in various colours around the object. He need to know what they were dealing with.
Once he realized the point of the trap, he let out a small gasp himself. Ingenious! Yes, Dumbledore still had it, in spite of his doubts in the last weeks. This was simply brilliant. Whatever he might think about the man's ethics, he was an exceptionally talented wizard.
And now, what to do about this whole situation. Their presence in the room was suddenly a liability, a way for Riddle to get at the Stone. He and Harry could both simply leave, but that did not seem entirely satisfying. After all, there was no such thing as a truly unbreakable enchantment – you just needed enough power. And this was Riddle. If someone could have it, it was him. He could force his way through. Especially as there was no time-frame to this – he could leave and return with some power boosters. Dumbledore had clearly counted on Quirrell being entranced by the mirror, but equally clearly, that had not happened. So, what now?
It was easy enough to deal with Quirrell, but dealing with Riddle's spirit would be much harder. Alduin needed a fool-proof way to make Quirrell unconscious before Riddle noticed there was anything amiss. If he could hold the spirit in afterwards was anyone's guess, without any ritual material at his disposal, but he knew for a fact that he didn't stand a chance if Riddle had an advance warning. A stunner would simply not do, because seeing the flash of light would likely be enough of a tip-off to the spirit. No, the best way to ensure this was distraction.
He prepared to think long and hard about the best way, when he noticed that Quirrell had, in fact, started to unwrap the enchantments. All right, so it was going to have the be 'the quickest way'.
Alduin sighed very heavily. The risk was minimal, of course, but he was still very unhappy with doing it. If there had been a safe and painless way out of the room for Harry, he still might have sent him away and tried to deal with it himself. As it was, though, in that cool, emotionless place he pushed himself to, the best solution presented itself clearly...
"Harry," he said, safe behind the silencing barrier, "you insisted on coming here. Would you be willing to serve as a distraction now?"
Harry gulped. "Yeah," he said. "What do I do?"
"Just pretend you have only now emerged from the flames, and maybe act surprised to see him here? Ask him to explain everything. There were no too overt moves against you on his part – you might have believed Headmaster's story about your broom just malfunctioning. Pretend to have expected Riddle, and let him talk as long as possible. And as with Dumbledore, do not look into his eyes. He will want to use you, so he will not kill you, but he could hurt you if you argued with him in any way. I'll do my best to prevent him getting as much as a shot at you, though. Are you willing to do this?"
Harry nodded, visibly nervous. Alduin disillusioned him, took away the cloak and cancelled the spell.
"You!" Harry cried dramatically, pointing at Quirrell, and Alduin slowly walked to the other side of the room under the cloak, his wand never turning from Quirrell for a second. He was still silenced, but he needed to be careful of even disturbing the air, he knew. This was crucial.
"Me," the possessed man said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."
"But I though Voldemort-"
"Do not speak his name without respect, Potter!" Quirrell shouted. He snapped his fingers and ropes twined themselves around Harry, making Alduin's wand twitch. But it was only ropes. The professor calmly continued: "But you were right. He is indeed here with me..."
Harry looked around. "Where?" He asked, surreptitiously trying to free his hands – in vain.
Quirrell laughed darkly. "He is with me wherever I go. I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it… Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me. He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me… decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me…"
Quirrell never noticed the silent spell that got him from very close distance, and he passed into unconsciousness.
"Yes!" Harry shouted happily, as Alduin bound Quirrell by ropes coming out of his wand and vanished his turban with a wave. As he had expected, there was another face there, and it was growling with displeasure as as he tried with all his power to wrestle it into staying in the host body.
He tried to concentrate, to use all of his reserves and pour it into this, this one chance he had at containing a danger to Harry, to himself, to his entire family and to the whole world. He tried to let this motivate him, to supply him with the strength he needed so much in the moment, He gave it everything he had.
However, even in this weakened form, it was still the spirit of one of the most powerful wizards in history, and Alduin was simply not strong enough. There was a long wail, and Quirrell's second face was suddenly empty and without expression.
It was at this point that Dumbledore arrived.
"Harry, my boy," he cried, vanishing the bounds, "I am so glad you are unharmed!"
Alduin threw off the cloak, and asked, his voice colder than ice: "Did you know that Quirrell was possessed?"
Dumbledore masked his shock and displeasure upon seeing him quickly. "Well, I have had my suspicions, but I couldn't have been sure, naturally..."
Alduin was having none of that. "If you had told me," he said, "I could have done away with his spirit tonight. I had thought you could have, too, but perhaps not – you have never particularly studied transcendental sciences. So your inability to trust anyone has led to Riddle escaping tonight. When he comes back, you can find a source of nightmares in the knowledge that it is because of you, and because of your stubbornness and secretiveness. People will die because of you, Dumbledore. I hope you enjoy that feeling."
And with that, he gestured to Harry and they headed out through the now empty doorway.
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They were sitting in Alduin's study in Travers Manor, where he had taken Harry for the night after bidding goodbye to Kingsley. His ward was full of questions, as was understandable.
"What's the Stone Quirrell was talking about?" He asked. "That's the precious artefact, right?"
"Yes. It's the Philosopher's Stone, and its main properties are that it can turn any metal into gold and you can make the Elixir of Life with it, an Elixir that ensures you would never die."
"Wow! No wonder Riddle wanted that!"
"Yes. In his case, it would bring back the body for his houseless spirit. I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, baiting him with that – it was insanely dangerous."
"And what did he want me to do?"
Alduin took a sip of his whiskey and frowned. "I'm really not sure. Knowing what I know, it makes the whole thing even more absurd – because, you see, there was a spell on the mirror that ensured only someone who wanted to find the stone, not use it, could take it out of the mirror. So without you there, it would be relatively complicated for Riddle to do anything. He started to unravel the spell when we were there, but it would take him a while, and there might have been some traps hidden in that, too. But with you Dumbledore actually gave him a chance to get the stone. Once you had it, it wouldn't have been hard for Riddle to take it from you."
Harry scowled. "So was Dumbledore simply trying to kill me in a very elaborate way, or what?"
Alduin shook his head. "I do not believe so. I believe it has something to do with that bloody prophecy, if it exists at all."
There was a short silence as they both drank, though Harry only had pumpkin juice at his disposal.
"And what happened to Riddle?" The boy asked then.
Alduin shrugged. "He simply left, returned to the state he was in after you destroyed his body. He will be able to find someone else to possess and try again. Had I known in advance that this was what we would be dealing with, I could have brought some ingredients and artefacts that would have prevented his escape. That is what makes me so livid."
"Yeah, I gathered." Harry frowned. "I think I would have been angry too, if I wasn't so tired. I mean, the man killed my parents and Dumbledore just let him get away because he didn't want to talk to you?!"
Alduin sighed. "It shouldn't be only about revenge for you, Harry. Remember what I said, you have to think about the future. You have to think about all those people he could kill, when you think about him. That is the best motivation, because it will prevent you becoming too willing to sacrifice innocent lives on the altar of your revenge, like Dumbledore seems wont to do."
Harry nodded. "I know." He paused. "Is this about revenge for Dumbledore, too?"
"If I understood what motivated that man, Harry, our life would be much easier, trust me. Now, to bed with you. You have to get back to school tomorrow morning."
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Alduin kept himself in check that night, but as soon as Harry was back at Hogwarts, he shut himself in his study, where he sat shaking and drinking.
He remembered that from the last year of the war, too, the returns from his encounters with Death Eaters, the nights spent drunk enough to forget why the Manor was so empty, and then the hangover potion in the morning and back to work.
Dibby, his personal elf, remembered as well, and he knew the drill. At eight the next morning, on the dot, he appeared with the potion in hand, giving it to Alduin without comment.
It wasn't strong enough to make him feel completely fine, he had drunk too much the previous day and night for that, but it was enough to allow him to drag himself up to his room and change and go down to breakfast.
Of course, one difference between the war and his current situation he had underestimated was Alexandra.
She gave him a piercing look over breakfast and said: "I assume you don't do this too often? I feel like that is something you should have mentioned before the wedding, if it was."
That, of course, was enough to flood Alduin with shame, and her gaze softened a bit. "I don't have any problems with the occasional coping mechanisms," she said, "as long as they aren't too frequent, like I said. After all, there is work to do."
She was right, of course, more right than she knew. She was only referring to politics, but there was more. Quirrell was over and done with, resting in his cushy new cell and awaiting trial, but Alduin had new things to worry about. In particular, Harry's scar.
It was one of the things that made him drink so much the day before. He had been nervous about it ever since Harry told him about it hurting at the Welcoming Feast, but now that he knew Quirrell had been possessed, his worry gained a whole new order of magnitude. This was not how normal curse scars acted.
They sometimes had residual dark magic in them, and so they showed up at dark magic detectors and could hurt in close proximity to unicorns or ingredients taken from them. There were cases known of those scars absorbing blood or similar.
But this was different. This was no dead residue, Harry's scar was obviously active. Riddle put something in it that reacted to his presence. Alduin had never heard of such thing in his life.
There were active dark magic receptacles, of course, plentiful – offensive ones, traps and such – but this was clearly something else. The recognition indicated at least something more personalized, if not straight out something more – dare he say it? - self-aware.
He had a lot of research to do.
Harry, on the other hand, was fully enjoying the leisure and comfort that came from knowing that there was no particular danger to him at school any more.
He told the entire story to his friends the evening after he returned to Hogwarts, when they all gathered in his dormitory. Sophie seemed really put out with him for not taking her with him. "I'm sorry," Harry said, "but I don't think my cousin would have let me. He wouldn't have liked putting you in danger. He didn't like putting me in danger, but at least it's him who's responsible for me. And it's easier to keep safe only one kid."
"Well, then you shouldn't have gone calling to your cousin like a baby! You should have taken us instead!"
Seamus gave a shocked burst of laughter, and Harry just stared at her. "Are you crazy?" He asked. "Fine, so let's go over it. We would all probably end up with broken bits and pieces after the jump. I guess Neville would have recognized the Snare, so there is some chance that at least one of us would have been able to light a fire and get it away from us. We would have gone through the keys like a breeze, and I guess Ron could have won the chess match too. The troll was already dead. The logic puzzle? I don't know. I solved it in the end, but only with heavy support and some hints from my cousin, and I don't think logic is a forte of any of us, no offence. But let's say I would have figured it out. There wasn't enough potion for six people in that bottle, I don't think more than two would have worked, even if we were all kids. So we would have argued about who goes and who stays and then we would have limped through the flames and – then what? Then Quirrell would have killed us."
"He might not have!" Sophie insisted stubbornly. "There would have been two of us, and we would have been ready for him!"
"You don't know what you're talking about!" Harry exploded. "There was Riddle in him! My own cousin couldn't contain his spirit, and he's really good! He just snapped his fingers and I was bound! Do you really think he couldn't have done the same to all of us? Or just kill us with another snap? He only needed one of us to get the stone out of the mirror..."
Neville put up his hand. "Harry. Remember that Sophie doesn't really know what Riddle is like. She hasn't grown up with the knowledge that he murdered members of her family. She doesn't automatically understand how terrible he is, like we do."
Harry nodded and tried to calm down. "Just...don't underestimate him," he said. "It's been made completely plain to me that I wouldn't have stood a chance if I had been there alone. My cousin also said that if it had been truly Riddle, not just Quirrell possessed by him, we would have both stood very little chance, even with the sneaky plan Mr. Kingsley came up with."
Ron, Neville and Seamus all nodded sagely. Yes, they knew enough stories about Riddle to fill their nightmares, and the idea that he had been here at school, their teacher, was inconceivable.