The loss of House points did not go down well with the rest of the school. Harry, who had previously been one of the most popular students, suddenly found himself one of the most disliked. Even his fellow quidditch players on the House team would only refer to him as the seeker, and no longer included him in their jokes and teasing. Fred and George were less bothered by the loss of points, and were the exception, but even they slipped up and called him 'the seeker' a few times.
Hermione and Neville were also suffering because of their misadventure, but as they had never been popular, their fall was not as pronounced.
Ron tried to comfort both Harry and Hermione, who were beating themselves up quite badly, but in the end all he could do was go along with the crazy amount of studying his two friends needed to keep their minds off their botched rescue mission. He did not even complain. Much.
Then, about a week before the exams, Harry managed to overhear Quirrell once again, quite by chance, when he was walking back from the library on his own. He heard whimpering from an otherwise empty classroom, and recognised the voice.
"No – no – not again, please—"
The mystery was too tempting. For all that he had promised not to meddle, Harry had to find out who seemed to be threatening Quirrell. For a moment, he was convinced it must be Snape, which might prove that his suspicions were not as unfounded as Hermione always made them out to be. But he could not hear a second voice, try as he might.
"All right – all right—" he heard Quirrell sob a little later, before he rushed out of the classroom, looking as if he were close to crying.
The whole episode left him confused more than anything. He told Ron and Hermione, but for all that they analysed it from every angle they could think of, they could not make much sense of it.
Had Quirrell been talking to Snape? Did that mean it was Snape who was after the stone after all? (Hermione did not like that theory – said it was not 'logical'.) Or, on the contrary, had Snape finally convinced Quirrell to stop his criminal activities? (Ron disagreed with that one – not to mention Harry – because Snape just did not have enough goodwill for that.) Or, most bizarrely, had Quirrell been talking to an as-of-yet-unknown third person? Who had managed to get into Hogwarts without being discovered?
There were many unanswered questions, and as the friends had decided to stop looking for answers, all they could do was try to resign themselves to never knowing. That did not sit well with any of them, though none of them ever said as much.
That episode was not to remain a mystery for long, though.
That night, Harry and Hermione had their detention together with Neville and Malfoy. As soon as Hagrid told them they would be investigating something killing unicorns, Hermione tensed up. Once they had split up, and it was just her, Harry and Hagrid, she began to explain what she knew about the life-preserving properties of unicorn blood.
"How did ye learn of that? Yer not supposed to know abou' dark stuff like that until after yer OWLs," said a surprised Hagrid when he heard what she was talking about.
But they were not listening to him. They looked at each other, both thinking the same thing.
"He can't be that desperate," said Harry. "If his whole life's cursed… What would be the point?"
Hermione shook her head, unable to come up with a reply.
Then Malfoy had to make things difficult, of course, and after making Neville send red sparks after scaring him for no good reason, Hagrid decided to change the groups, leaving Harry to deal with Malfoy. The boys were the first to find the unicorn. But that was not the only thing they found. There was a black-clad figure crouching next to it, and as soon as Harry saw it, he knew he was dealing with someone far worse than Quirrell.
Malfoy and Fang ran, but Harry was frozen to the spot as the figure advanced on him, and the only thing he was aware of was the blinding pain in his scar. At that moment, the centaur Firenze came to his rescue, chasing the hooded figure away.
As he was taken back to Hagrid, he had to ask about the figure he had just escaped from. Firenze's answer – given as cryptic questions – made him feel like an iron fist was clenching his heart. Even though Hermione's and Hagrid's appearance stopped Firenze from confirming that he was talking about Voldemort, Harry had no doubts.
Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. He shouted something about quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. In a matter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the forest.
Harry could not sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.
"Quirrell is working with Voldemort; they're going to share the elixir of life… of course he's more powerful now, Voldemort must have been teaching him all sorts of things in exchange for his help… Voldemort himself is waiting in the forest, surviving on unicorn blood… I bet he was the one talking to Quirrell yesterday… getting inside Hogwarts would hardly be a challenge to him…"
"Stop saying his name," said Ron in a terrified whisper.
"And for days now we've been feeling sorry for him. Poor stuttering, scared Quirrell, he's probably dying…"
"Oh, no," moaned Hermione. "He can't have…"
"What?" Harry asked distractedly, and then continued his own line of thought. "Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so... Bane was furious... he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen... They must show that Voldemort's coming back... Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me... I suppose that's written in the stars as well."
"Harry, I think we got it all wrong! It must have been Quirrell who was cursing you during the quidditch match. It doesn't make sense the other way around. If he's helping you-know-who, why would he try to save you?"
That finally brought the bespectacled boy up short.
"Oh, that's all settled, now, isn't it? All he has to do now is steal the Stone," Harry said feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come back and finish me off himself... And the only one who's been trying to do anything against him is Snape, of all people… Well, I suppose Bane will be happy."
"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one you-know-who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, you-know-who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."
The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They discussed going to Dumbledore with what they knew, but decided against it. There was no proof. And as long as Fluffy kept guard, there seemed no need to do anything rash. They went to bed exhausted, their throats sore. But the night's surprises were not over.
When Harry pulled back his sheets, he found his invisibility cloak folded neatly underneath them. There was a note pinned to it:
Just in case.
Harry did not know how he got through the exams in the following days, when all he could think about was the safety of the Stone, and the near constant pain in his scar that plagued him since his trip into the forest. His friends did not seem nearly as worried as him. They were busy enough with their studying. But Harry was plagued by his old nightmares which had become worse than ever, and a lurking feeling that he was forgetting something important.
It was after their last exam that Harry finally realised what had been bothering him. Ron had just mentioned Hagrid and Fluffy – to reassure him that the Stone was safe as Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore – and the dots connected themselves in Harry's mind.
They rushed to Hagrid's cabin, only to find their worst fears realised. Hagrid had indeed told the mysterious figure who had given him the dragon egg how to get past Fluffy – without even realising what he had done. Harry knew they had to tell Dumledore at that point – with or without proof – and his friends agreed.
They went back inside the castle, unsure how to find Dumbledore. But before they came very far, they ran into Professor McGonagall who told them that Dumbledore had gone to the Ministry for Magic. She was shocked to find out that the three first-years knew about the Stone, and would not listen to their warnings.
Just as Harry said Quirrell would try stealing the Stone that night, they ran into Snape, who warned them about night-time wanderings, and threatened them with expulsion.
"What a git," said Ron.
"Ron!" Hermione admonished him.
"What? He is! If he weren't such a git, we might have tried to get him to listen about Quirrell. He seems the only one suspicious of him, anyway."
"I don't think any of the professors will listen to us at this point," Harry said gloomily. "We'll have to try our best to deal with this on our own. Here's what we've got to do," he whispered urgently, and began explaining his plan.
Hermione was to wait outside the staff room, to keep an eye on Quirrell, and follow him if he left. Meanwhile, the boys would stay outside the third-floor corridor. But that part did not work. McGonagall turned up and made them leave.
Apparently, Hermione's assignment had also not gone to plan, they discovered when they reached their common room to find her waiting in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady with Snape.
"I'm sorry, Harry!" she wailed. "Professor Snape came out and asked me what I was doing, and I was going to say I was waiting for Professor Flitwick, but then I thought I better ask about Quirrell first, and—"
"Mind telling me now what the emergency is that could not possibly wait for your Head of House? I have better things to do with my time than deal with Gryffindor dramatics!" thundered Snape. "And why are you looking for Professor Quirrell? I told you, he turned in early, because he had a headache. That better not be the emergency you were talking about, or—"
Harry noticed the distaste with which Snape said 'Professor' before Quirrell, and almost smiled. But then he thought better of it. He took a deep breath, reminded himself that Snape had tried to save him when Quirrell had been cursing his broom during his first quidditch match, for all that he hated him, and went in for the kill.
"Quirrell knows how to get past Fluffy," he began without any preamble. "He – well, never mind how he found out, but he's known for a while now. But now Professor Dumbledore has gone to London, so there's nothing stopping him from going after the Stone—"
"Potter! How—" Snape's face had twisted into a weird grimace. He opened his mouth to say something, but then had to reconsider. He looked around, making sure to be unobserved, and then Harry noticed him moving his wand very subtly. "Potter, I don't know how you – How can any one student be this interfering!" He looked over the students in front of him. "Three! Three interfering Gryffindors at once – with not an ounce of sense between you. You are going to go inside that common room of yours now, and then you are going to stay there until morning—"
"What about the stone? Are you going to inform Professor Dumbledore?"
"Potter! One more word, and I'll give you detention until school's out! The Stone is better protected than the three of you could even conceive of-"
"But Quirrell found out ages ago what those protections are, as you know—"
"And how would you know that?"
"Er, good guess? Anyway, Professor Dumbledore has to be told—"
"Professor Dumbledore isn't the only one who can protect the Stone. I don't see how this is any of your business, but let me assure you that I haven't told Quirrell how to get past my protection—"
Harry shook his head. "One protection might have been enough for Quirrel, but the other day, Firenze – he's a centaur in the forest – he told me Quirrell is helping Voldemort—"
"Do not say that name!" thundered Snape. "How – how—"
"He's a centaur. They can predict all sorts of things by looking at stars—"
"Be quiet!" After ensuring that his most despised student would remain quiet, Snape went on in a somewhat calmer voice. "I will inform Dumbledore, because I can't ignore such a safety issue as a teacher. However, should I find out that one word – one word – of what you just told me isn't exactly as you said, I promise you, I will make sure all three of you will get expelled." He looked them over, satisfied to see fear in their eyes. "Any last minute corrections to your tale? No? Well, let's see how this'll end, shall we?" With that he swept past them, and disappeared behind the corner.
The three friends paced the common room, unable to think of anything but the safety of the Stone. They only left for dinner, afraid of what Snape might do if he saw them. But he was not there, and after they were done they went straight back to the common room. Once every other student had gone up to their dorms, Harry turned to his friends. "I'm going to go to the third-floor corridor now, to make sure Quirrell doesn't get there before Dumbledore returns. I can't trust Snape with something this important."
"You're mad!" said Ron.
"You can't!" said Hermione. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"
Harry lost his patience at that point and started shouting at his friends, who still seemed unable to grasp the seriousness of the situation. His words had the intended effect. Ron and Hermione both insisted they would be coming along.
Harry went up to his dorm to fetch his invisibility cloak. While he was there, he spotted the flute Hagrid had given him, and took it as well, to use it on Fluffy. Then he ran back down to the common room.
They were all set to leave, when Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor, who seemed to have tried to run away again.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Nothing, Neville, nothing," said Harry.
"You're going out again."
"No, no, no," said Hermione. "No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"
"You can't go out," said Neville, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."
"You don't understand," said Harry, "this is important."
Neville looked like he was steeling himself to do something desperate, but suddenly his expression changed, became more calculating. "Is this another of your rescue missions?"
"Yeah, you could say that," answered Harry, recalling their conversation the night they had received detention.
"Then I want to help." Neville looked scared, but determined.
"You don't understand, Neville. You'll be in so much trouble if you get caught. Snape threatened us with expulsion!" said Hermione.
"But whatever it is, you still think it's worth it. Isn't there anything you could use my help for?" Neville would not budge.
"Actually there is," said Harry before either of his friends could try to argue more.
"What?" asked a surprised Ron.
"Well, if we find he's gone after it, then I'm going after him. And if you two want to come along, we'll need someone to find Snape and let him know. Or, I mean, one of you could..."
"No," Ron said immediately.
"No, we're coming with you," Hermione agreed as well.
"So, would you?" Harry asked Neville.
"G-go find Snape now?"
"If – well, we're still hoping Fluffy managed to keep guard. But if not..."
"You don't have to, of course—" began Hermione.
"I'll do it," Neville decided at once.
They all nodded tensely at each other, sneaked under the invisibility cloak as best they could, and set off.
"Who's Fluffy?"
They successfully managed to resist the temptation to kick Mrs Norris, and Harry's ingenuous idea to pretend to be the Bloody Baron saved them from Peeves. But when they reached the third-floor corridor, they found the door was left ajar.
"Well, there you are," Harry said quietly. "Quirrell's already gone past Fluffy."
"Professor Quirrell? But what—" began Neville.
"There's no time to explain, Neville. You have to go and find Professor Snape as fast as you can, and tell him we've gone after Quirrell," Hermione told him.
"Please hurry," said Harry. "I don't know how long we can delay him."
Neville nodded, seeing how serious all three looked, and set off at a little bit of a jog.
The three friends pushed the door open, and went in.
It took all their skill to get past Fluffy, the Devil's Snare, the enchanted keys, the chessboard – where Ron had to sacrifice himself, and the puzzle – where Hermione had to go back, as there was not enough potion left for two people to pass through the black flames. In the end, it was Harry alone who entered the last chamber to face Quirrell.
Quirrell smiled when he saw Harry. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter," he said calmly.
"Your stutter is gone," Harry remarked.
Quirrell laughed, and it was not his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, it is. Well spotted. It's been so annoying to keep up the charade of my former self. But I can't deny it's been useful. Who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell, meeker than ever after his unsuccessful attempt to see the world and come out of his shell?"
"But I thought... You didn't get hurt on your travels, did you? You aren't ill, or hurt, or dying, or anything!"
Harry could not take it. How could he ever have felt sorry for him?
Quirrell laughed again. "Is that what you thought? How charming. No, I didn't get hurt, Potter. I was saved."
"Becoming one of Voldemort's pawns? Doing his dirty work for him? That's what you call being 'saved'?"
"Don't speak of things you don't understand! Once I have procured the Stone for him, Lord Voldemort is going to share immortality with me. And if you think killing you is much of a moral dilemma for me, I must disappoint you. Oh, no. Lord Voldemort saved me, Potter, in ways you can not even imagine. You, though... No one is going to come to save you, I'm afraid."
Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.
"You're too nosy to live, Potter. How did you even come to suspect me? I was so sure you thought it was Snape. But you weren't even mildly surprised to see me."
"I did think it was Snape in the beginning. I even thought he was the one trying to curse me during the quidditch match. He seemed to hate me..."
"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."
"No. He cast the counter-curse, because even if he hates me, he's still a teacher, and acts like one. I overheard him talking to you, asking you where your loyalties lie—"
"Oh, that's how you figured out it was me. More nosiness. As for loyalties – Snape really should question his, rather than mine – he looks far too content with this dreadful teacher's life.
"Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror."
It was only then that Harry realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.
"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone,"Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around 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..."
Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it. "I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?"
Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they did not give. All he could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror.
"And you're sure you know where your loyalties should lie? With a sociopathic would-be dictator?"
"Be quiet! I'll make you pay for being disrespectful—"
"I heard you a few days ago, sobbing – I did wonder who might have been threatening you..."
For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face. "Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions – he is a great wizard and I am weak—"
"Was he there in the classroom with you?" asked Harry, though he knew he dreaded to know the answer.
What followed was a series of nightmares, starting with Quirrell's answer, followed by removing the turban and Voldemort – or rather, what was left of him – confronting Harry, and finally the fight for the Stone, Quirrell pinning him to the ground with his knees, trying to strangle him, and his horribly burnt face after Harry realised the power he held over him and grabbed for his face—
It was as Quirrell tried to throw Harry off, who held onto his arm with all his might, and Voldemort started shouting at his minion, "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!", that a new voice joined the chaos.
"Harry! Harry!" It was Dumbledore, sounding quite worried. "Let him go!" he commanded in a tone that brooked no argument.
Harry let go, unsure whether the comment referred to him or to Quirrell, but willing to go along with it in either case. He felt impossibly drained as he watched Dumbledore cast spells on Quirrell to incapacitate him. Then a vile, dark fragment of a shape seeped out of the younger wizard's body, who then collapsed.
"This was the last time you interfered, old man. You'll pay for this, and so much more," hissed the shadow-like apparition before it fled.
"Harry! Harry, are you all right?" There was actual fear in Dumbledore's voice.
Harry nodded. Dreadful as he felt, he could only imagine what he must look like. He tried standing up, but his knees gave out from under him.
"He's suffering from magical exhaustion," said Dumbledore, and for a moment Harry was not sure whom he was talking about.
Then he saw Snape crouch next to Quirrell's unmoving body. "He's not the only one."
Oh. So Dumbledore had been talking to Snape, not him. And he, Harry, was the one suffering from magical exhaustion. He supposed that made sense. It was a very odd sensation, he thought to himself curiously. Everything seemed to have slowed down, and even thinking seemed to require effort.
He did not know how he got to the hospital wing, and barely remembered being forced into bed by Madam Pomfrey and made to drink several unpleasant potions. But he spotted Ron in the bed next to his, and Hermione and Neville sitting on chairs between the beds, and he thought everything else would surely work out as long as they were all together, before sleep finally claimed him.