Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.


Chapter 13 – The Man With Two Faces


"You!" Harry gasped, not sure why he was surprised to find Professor Quirrell. Ever since witnessing Quirrell and Snape's confrontation all those months ago, he had known something wasn't quite right with the professor, but he hadn't thought he'd be working for Voldemort. Quirrell turned around and showed a brief moment of surprise seeing the two professors standing alongside Harry, but it didn't last long.

"Welcome, Potter. I see you finally found your way here."

"You knew I would come?"

"Oh yes, I knew you couldn't resist after solving the mystery of who was after the stone. I knew you were a danger to me right from the off, but had little chance to do anything about it with Dumbledore and Snape protecting you." His eyes flickered to the man in question. "You were right not to trust me, Severus, though I doubt even you figured out why. But you, Potter," He turned his attention back to Harry. "You proved more dangerous than the Bat of the Dungeons. I thought luck was on my side that night in the forest. You were there, finally unguarded, but then that centaur had to intervene."

"Then it was you drinking the unicorn blood?" Harry was confused. "But I thought…" Quirrell's lip curved up.

"Perhaps I overestimated your intellect, after all." That was all he said as he turned back to the mirror. "Now, what does this mirror do? I see what I desire. I see myself holding the stone…but how do I get it?"

"Use the boy." An unearthly voice hissed and Harry's scar stung again.

"Come here, Potter! Now!" Quirrell shouted. McGonagall and Snape moved, having stood back as Quirrell talked, hoping to get answers, but now they had a student to protect. Quirrell was ready for them though. With a wave of his hand he pushed them back, both fighting against his magic, but it had given him the few moments he'd needed. With a snap of his fingers fire sprang up around the room, separating McGonagall and Snape from Harry. The two professors could be heard muttering every spell they knew as they tried to dispel the flames, but Quirrell's magic proved too strong for them. "I said, come here, Potter!" With little other choice, Harry did as instructed and went to stand in front of the mirror. "Tell me, what do you see?" Harry had expected to see his parents as he had before; however, this time he saw only himself. The mirror Harry moved, though, where the real one did not. It reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a dark red stone before winking and putting it back. Harry felt something land in his own pocket when the mirror him replaced the stone, and very slowly, so as not to draw Quirrell's attention, he moved his hand to feel that he somehow had the Philosopher's Stone. "What is it? What do you see?" Quirrell demanded.

"I…I'm shaking hands with Dumbledore. I've won the House Cup."

"He lies." The voice hissed again.

"Tell the truth! What do you see?"

"Let me speak to him."

"Master, you are not strong enough." Harry watched as Quirrell talked to thin air, though in this case the air answered back.

"I have strength enough for this." Quirrell reached up and began to unravel the turban he always wore. Harry's scar hurt again and he felt his heart begin racing. He looked to where Snape and McGonagall were still trying to get through the fire, though they were also obviously watching intently. Quirrell turned as the last layer came off and the sight that greeted Harry was one he'd never forget: a face growing out of the back of Quirrell's head.

"Harry Potter. We meet again." The face spoke in the same hissing voice, though this time it turned its blood red eyes on Harry.

"Voldemort." Harry knew instantly who this was.

"Yes. You see what I've become? See what I must do to survive? Live off another. A mere parasite. Unicorn blood can sustain me, but it cannot give me a body of my own. But there is something that can. Something that, conveniently enough, lies in your pocket." Harry's hand went to cover the stone as he turned, looking for an exit.

"Don't be a fool. Why suffer a horrific death, when you can join me and live?"

"Never!" The mere thought of joining Voldemort was entirely repulsive to him. Voldemort merely laughed.

"Bravery. Your parents had it too. Tell me, Harry, would you like to see your mother and father again? Together we can bring them back." Harry had heard that Voldemort could be quite persuasive, and benevolent, to his followers during the war. Fear, after all, only went so far, and he would never have been able to get as many followers as he did if he used fear alone. Now here he was, saying the very thing Harry wanted above all else. "All I ask is for something in return." Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the stone. "That's it, Harry. There is no good and evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it. Together, we'll do extraordinary things. Just give me the stone!" Harry shook his head, snapping himself out of it, knowing that Voldemort didn't speak the truth.

"You liar!"

"Kill him!" Quirrell came flying at him and Harry didn't have time to move away before Quirrell's hand wrapped around his neck. He fell backwards, Quirrell falling with him, as the older man tried to choke the life out of him. Reacting on instinct, Harry reached up and grabbed Quirrell's hand, trying to pull it away. He didn't hold out much hope though, after all he was much smaller and weaker than Quirrell, but it appeared that strength didn't matter. As soon as Harry's hand touched Quirrell's a sizzling could be heard, and Quirrell cried out, pulling his hand away.

"What is this magic?" He cried, watching his hand crumble and turn to dust.

"Fool! Get the stone!" Even missing a hand as he was, Quirrell did as Voldemort instructed, but Harry was ready for him this time. He didn't know what was going on, but it was his touch that had done that to Quirrell, so maybe it would work again. As Quirrell approached, Harry reached up and placed his hands right on Quirrell's face. The reaction was the same. The sizzling was heard and Quirrell began to scream, his face beginning to crumble as his hand had. Within moments Quirrell was gone, his entire body crumbling to dust before Harry. Voldemort appeared to have been destroyed along with Quirrell and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Potter! Potter, are you alright?" McGonagall cried and Harry turned his attention to his two professors, who were still being held off by the fire.

"I don't know what happened, Professor!" He said, looking at his hands. "I didn't use any magic. Not that I'm aware of, anyways."

"It's alright, Potter." She said soothingly. Having witnessed what happened she knew it would likely be traumatic, once the adrenaline wore off. "Just stay there, we'll be through in a moment."

"Potter, look out!" Snape yelled suddenly. Harry turned and saw that a smoky wraith had appeared, but it was the wraith's face that he couldn't take his eyes off of, for it was the face of Voldemort he'd last seen on the back of Quirrell's head. The wraith gave a haunting cry as it surged forward, passing right through Harry, who fell back losing consciousness.

-H/G-

Harry awoke slowly, unsure where he was and trying to remember what had happened. He remembered Quirrell crumbling to dust and Snape shouting a warning, but then nothing. Opening his eyes, Harry groped around for his glasses, finding them just in time to see who was now crushing him in a hug.

"Oh, Harry!" Aldora cried. "We were so worried!"

"Can't breathe." Aldora released him but kept one of his hands clasped in hers as she took a seat by his bedside. "What…what happened?"

"That's what I would like to know." She grumbled. "Cornelius is speaking with the Headmaster right now." Harry nodded and sat back in the bed in what he now recognized was the hospital wing. They sat there for no more than two minutes before it became clear that Cornelius was doing more than just speaking with Dumbledore.

"It is not possible, Dumbledore!" They heard him shout. "Clearly Professor Quirrell was secretly one of his followers with delusions that the Philosopher's Stone could bring him back, but he is dead, I tell you!" Whatever Dumbledore's response they couldn't hear, the Headmaster no doubt remaining in control of himself and speaking at a normal volume. They waited for Cornelius to respond, but instead the doors opened and both he and the Headmaster entered.

"Harry, my boy!" Cornelius' previously peeved expression cleared when he saw Harry was awake. "You gave us quite the scare." He came over and embraced Harry, which surprised the eleven-year-old. While Aldora was quite open with her affection – both real and feigned – Cornelius usually wasn't, and the most Harry would normally get was a smile and pat on the back. That Cornelius was actually hugging him, and in front of someone else no less, showed Harry that this time Cornelius' affection was real, not just for the cameras, and that he truly had been scared. Harry returned the hug, letting down his guard just a little. He had never thought of Cornelius as a father, and still didn't, but he was the closest thing to a father figure that Harry had ever known and he couldn't deny that the parental worry and affection was nice.

"How are you feeling Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Fine." He answered, pulling away from Cornelius and turning his full attention to the Headmaster. "Sir, what happened? Are Ron and Hermione ok? What about Voldemort?"

"Come now, Harry." Cornelius interrupted, as Harry knew he would. "You know full well that You-Know-who is dead. It was merely one of his followers wrongly thinking that the stone could bring him back." Harry turned inward, outwardly giving the appearance of being deep in thought. He had decided, upon seeing Cornelius' genuine affection for him, to see how far the Minister could be pushed.

"I don't think so." He said after several moments. Cornelius looked ready to argue, but Harry continued. "I don't think it was Voldemort, exactly. As you said, he's dead." Harry knew that no matter how far Cornelius could be pushed he would never admit Voldemort wasn't dead, so there still had to be some level of lying. Cornelius looked pleased at Harry's admission and was now at least willing to listen. "Quirrell seemed possessed, not just convinced he could bring Voldemort back. I think he was possessed. I think he found something of Voldemort's that he left behind and it was strong enough to take control of Quirrell." Cornelius seemed to be contemplating what Harry said, but he wasn't finished. "We know that Voldemort was a very dark wizard, and he certainly wasn't planning to die the night he tried to kill me. Who knows what dark magic he left behind, or what else is out there." Harry knew that if he could get Cornelius to at least agree that Voldemort's magic was still alive it would go a long way when the time came that the dark wizard actually did return. Luckily, Cornelius didn't seem entirely opposed to the idea.

"Well…I suppose it's possible he left something behind." The Minister admitted. "But for it to possess a person, and for someone to find it after all these years, is highly unlikely."

"This whole thing is highly unlikely, Cornelius."

"You have me there, Harry." He smiled ruefully. "Let us hope that this was the only such magic in existence." Harry nodded his agreement, glad at least that Cornelius was sold, albeit most unwillingly, to the idea that Voldemort had left dark magic behind.

"Well, that is that then." Dumbledore said, joining the conversation. "Cornelius, Aldora, I insist you join us for dinner. Why don't you go along, I know Minerva wished to speak with you. I am going to speak with Madam Pomfrey about releasing Harry, and then the two of us will join you." Cornelius and Aldora nodded, and with a fond smile at Harry they took their leave. Dumbledore, however, made no move to go speak with the matron.

"That was quite clever, Harry." Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Cornelius will never accept that Voldemort isn't dead. But perhaps I can convince him that a piece of dark magic that Voldemort left behind has given him a new body." Harry saw no reason to keep his true thoughts about Voldemort's return hidden from the Headmaster.

"You do not believe he is gone?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I did. For a long time I believed what my guardians told me. But then I had that detention in the forest." He thought back to that fateful night. A night that had gone unreported given what had happened. At least on Harry's part, he had little doubt that Draco had told his father, though what, if anything, Lucius had done he didn't know. "And then there was the face growing out of Quirrell's head. No, I know now he's not really gone. And I think you know that too, Professor." Dumbledore merely smiled and Harry saw that he wasn't going say more.

"Sir, are Ron and Hermione ok? What happened to the stone?"

"Relax, dear boy. They are both just fine." He said. "As for the stone, it has been destroyed. "My friend Nicolas and I have had a little chat and agreed it was best all around."

"But then, Flamel…he'll die won't he?"

"He has enough elixir to set his affairs in order. But yes, he will die."

"How is it I got the stone, sir?"

"Ah." Dumbledore smiled. "You see, only a person who wanted to find the stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to get it. That is one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that is saying something." Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "Now, I really must see Madam Pomfrey about releasing you. Even I dare not excuse one of her patients without her approval." The twinkle in his eye was at its full brilliance as he left to find the matron.


A/N - Well here's the end of book one as we come to the end of the year. Next chapter won't be up until 2021, hopefully early in January. Sorry about the inconsistent updates.

Hope everyone has a great New Year's Eve, and here's hoping for a better year and not 2020 Part 2.

Review please!