Everything returned to normal after the game. Malfoy had stopped taunting Eddie and the Fateful Eight in the corridors. They had received house points just as Dumbledore had promised. Yet there was something odd.

Quirrell had not shown any suspicious behaviour since Eddie's first Quidditch practice. Defense Against the Dark Arts classes went normally enough, except that kept getting strange looks from the professor, and, after he'd noticed there was a pattern, it made him uncomfortable. Did he know something? A million thoughts raced through his mind, many of them absurd worries and fears, some of them wild strategies in case he did know. After about ten minutes of staring into space, with these thoughts filling his head, he jerked back to reality and was able to snap his attention back to his studies. Quirrell didn't say anything to Eddie, however, and he pushed the incident out of his mind. Until one Friday….

Eddie was seated, and was engaged in a conversation with Ernie and Justin in class, waiting for Quirrell to start the lesson, when the professor walked over to their table.

"P-Pattinson, J-Jackson, D-Davidson, S-Stephens," he called. Their heads turned. "If you w-would s-see me after cl-class, p-please."

Suddenly, those anxious worries and thoughts rushed back to Eddie's head. It actually gave him a slight headache. Concentration became impossible that day, and when the bell rang at the conclusion of the class, they walked up to his desk. The brisk tone of his voice instead of his usual stammer told them the game was up. He flicked his wand and shut the door, making them jump, and Eddie felt his voice catch in his throat, wondering.

"I was walking in the hall just the other day," he began coldly. "And passed Mr. Hewett and Miss Rogers."

Eddie exchanged a silent, terrified glance with the other three. He knew.

"Quite curious things, they were saying… I caught a few words, notably: stone, Quirrell, traps, and the most curious - your names. Care to divulge anything?"

When no one said anything, Quirrell pressed on. It didn't seem like he'd kill them yet.

"I am warning each one of you," he spoke, looking at each one of them in turn with such coldness that Eddie shuddered. "Meddle in my plans… and I will not hesitate in killing you. Report to Dumbledore… same thing. Have I made myself clear?" he asked sharply.

"Y-yes, P-Professor," Eddie stuttered, not daring to make a wrong move, and simultaneously felt relieved, as Quirrell's previous statement meant they would, at the very least, survive this one-sided conversation.

"Good. You are dismissed." The one-minute warning had felt like it had taken ten, and they felt as though a burden had been both lifted from and placed on them as they left.

They immediately went to find the others, who were coming out of Herbology.

"He knows," Lily told them breathlessly, without any pretense whatsoever. "Quirrell knows."

She then delved into what Quirrell had told them he overheard.

When she finished, they looked around at each other, stunned. Tom groaned, and Natalie looked down at the ground in shame.

"It's all my damn fault," she said, shaking. "If I wasn't talking so loud…" She shook her head.

"No one is blaming you…" Tom put a hand on her shoulder, "I was mentioned as well.."

"B-but… we don't know when he goes for the stone…" Natalie said anxiously, looking at Tom. "Do we?"

"No," said Tom, wiping his glasses. "We can guess."

"I've got a better idea," said Sean, speaking up. "Let's ask Snape."

"What, like he'd know?" Nathan snorted.

"No… but he keeps a better watch on Quirrell than we do…"

"What about Dumbledore? Can't we just tell him? It's not like Quirrell would find out," Eddie suggested.

"True… but I'd like to have some damn fun," said Tom, now looking at Eddie with a gleam in his eye that quite frightened him. He had always known him to be practical, unwilling to take risks, but now, it seemed, Tom's Gryffindor was showing.

They dashed off to the professor's office. He looked bewildered to see them all, but seeing their faces, he ushered them inside.

"Very well, now, what is the matter?" he asked the Fateful Eight at large.

"You've been watching Quirrell, right?" Eddie asked.

"Yes, and why am I being inquired?" His lips were on the verge of curling.

"Well…" Eddie continued, and proceeded to tell Snape what Quirrell had said. Snape's expression shifted from one of mild intrigue to a cold and expressionless one.

There was a short pause.

"Very well. This shall be brought to the notice of the Headmaster. I assure you that you will know about anything that concerns you eight."

That night in the common room, Eddie had a peculiar and frightening dream. He was in the Erised room, alone, watching his image of the Fateful Eight growing up, when suddenly, they began to fade. Sean, Claire, Natalie disappeared… Eddie yanked his eyes away. He heard a deep, booming laugh rise up from the depths of the room. "You won't be able to save them… too weak… no Hufflepuff will ever amount to anything," a high, cold, voice cried out. Eddie turned. It was a reborn Voldemort.

"You! We'll stop your return! We have an edge!" He raised his wand, but was unable to utter a curse. Fruitlessly trying to cast spell after spell, he tossed his wand aside, closing his eyes, awaiting death…

And then he was awake. It was only then he'd noticed that the common room light was on, and the eyes of the room were fixed on him.

"D-dream," he said shakily. "I'll be fine, I just need some water." He reached over to his bedside table and poured himself a glass (fortunately the Hufflepuff dorms always had magically refilling pitchers of water).

His housemates continued to stare intently at him. He again reassured them that he was fine, and this time they nodded, leaving him to try unsuccessfully to sleep the rest of the night.

The weeks continued to pass as the calendar flipped from May to June, and still there was no word from Snape. Eddie remembered that Harry was unable to play in the final Quidditch match of the year, because of his unconscious state following his bout with Quirrell, and he desperately wanted to avoid that happening to him. Then, one scorching hot June day, as Eddie and a few other Hufflepuffs were studying by the lake, Snape strolled visibly up to them. He appeared to be sweating, having refused to change his usual black robes.

"Mr. Pattinson, Miss Jackson," he said, indicating them both. "It's time." This, Eddie mused, was a rather dramatic finish, but he said nothing of it.

The other Hufflepuffs looked extremely perplexed. "Time for what?"

"That," Snape told them, "is none of your concern."

"It's alright," Lily whispered to the rest, "We'll tell you later,"

"Alright," Ernie said, looking totally bewildered and eyeing Snape suspiciously.

When they were out of earshot, Eddie immediately asked where the others were.

"They have already gathered in my office. You two are the last."

When they arrived, Snape turned to face them.

"Now," he said, with no expression, his cold, black eyes passing over the eight. "I can't help you with much of anything, but I can grant you safe passage to the third-floor corridor, and I can tell you how to get past at least one aspect. Myself and a number of professors granted protection to the Stone in ways that suit each of our magical specialties. My contribution was in the form of a riddle, in which seven potions lie before oneself, with only two being Fire-Protection Potions. Whomever of you wishes to face Quirrell would do to drink the smallest potion, but beware - Quirrell is not an inept wizard, and he has the aid of the Dark Lord. Now then, in a few hours' time, we should be off. Quirrell won't suspect himself to be followed, and will handle some of the obstacles for us."

And so they waited. At approximately nine thirty, Snape gave them the OK and led the way out of his office. They hit one snag along the way, which was quickly managed by Snape.

Filch was performing his usual duty, along with Mrs. Norris, of prowling the corridors for any students out of bed.

"Aha!" he shrieked, when he saw them, and his jowls quivered. "Students out of bed! This'll mean detention, it will, mark my words!"

"No need, Argus," Snape sneered silkily. "They're with me."

"Oho!" Filch responded. "With, you, are they?"

"Precisely."

"Right. Right, then."

And he let them pass, bearing a bitter expression, and muttering to Mrs. Norris about how he would catch them the next time.

Eddie struggled to hold back a grin following this. Finally, they reached the place. The darkness of the corridor cast a foreboding shadow on the creaky wooden door, behind which lay such certainty yet such mystery.

"Well," Snape drawled, turning to face them once more. "I have assisted in every way that I can.

He had no particular expression on his face as he turned with a swirl of his robes.

"Well," Tom said. "This is it,"

He managed a half smile and stepped through. The rest followed.

Heart pounding, Eddie followed Tom through the door.

Fluffy was asleep, as they expected, yet Eddie was astounded to actually see him. Seeing through a television or phone screen was very easily comprehended by his brain, yet, now his subconscious was telling him that this wasn't real, that Fluffy was an animatronic, that he was all making this up. However, it was irrefutable. This was his life now. And, crazy as though it might have seemed, he loved it. Overcome by this, he led the Fateful Eight inside.

Quickly they slipped under the trapdoor, pushing Fluffy's paw to the side. and down onto Devil's Snare below. They were able to get out with ease, as they stayed calm and didn't panic. They then went past the unconscious troll and burst into the flying key room.

They had Nathan hop onto Quirrell's abandoned broom, as he was the best flyer, and he was able to catch the key quickly and stick it into the keyhole, and they progressed further. Eddie noticed smiles starting to break out among the group. But something started to not sit well with him. It was all too easy, and he was wishing the others would not get too far ahead of themselves. He quickly reassured himself, before he said anything, that it was harder for the Golden Trio because they didn't know what they were doing, and that the eight of them had an edge that way, making it seem easy for them.

When they reached the chess room, they naturally turned to Tom, the master tactician. Tom, however, looked worried and was biting his lip.

"Guys, I have to admit something," he sighed. "I've never played chess and I barely know how."

So, essentially, they were on their own. No background knowledge, no Ron-like chess experience. What were they to do?

They first had to decide on what positions they were to assume. Victoria wanted to be the queen, so Eddie, in order to lighten the mood, suggested that Nathan be the king.

Nathan blushed at this. "I'm fine being a bishop…"

Tom was a knight. Eddie was a rook. Lily was the other rook. The others were pawns. White went first, naturally, and the game began.

They took turns taking the reins on directing the other pieces. Their first real spot of bother was when the opposing queen was in danger of taking out Victoria, but Lily swooped in and saved her, knocking out the queen. Eddie was the first one to be knocked out, as a sacrifice play where he set it up for one of the white rooks being taken out. He wasn't expecting it to be as painful as it was. The blow nearly knocked him out, and it would have if he'd landed on his head. It took him a few painful minutes to regain his breathing, however, as he had the wind knocked out of him. Soon to follow were Claire and Sean.

The game came down to Tom, Victoria, the other bishop and a few pawns against the queen, king, and two rooks. Victoria moved in range of the opposing queen once more, who was bearing down on Tom. Eddie prayed that they would win. They were running out of time. Quirrell was sure to crack the secret of the mirror eventually, and then it would all be over…

While Eddie was mired in this hopelessness, the queen, fortunately but surprisingly, took the bait.

Victoria said later that the last thing she remembered was a giant stone sword swinging right at her midsection before being thrown backwards against the brick wall and blacking out.

"VICTORIA!" Nathan screamed and ran to her. He pulled out his wand. "Rennervate!" She opened her eyes.

"Oh, thank God."

"Oh, Nathan it's you…" She yawned. "W-where am I? And owww my head…" She groaned, rubbing it.

"I'm going to take her to the hospital wing, alright?" Nathan told the group.

Eddie nodded and turned his attention back to Tom.

Tom was deep in thought. He had that calculating look the rest of the Fateful Eight had come to associate with him. Finally he reached a decision.

"Pawn to E6, check."

The queen moved over to protect the king from the pawn and then-

"Bishop to D6, check mate." They'd won. Tom sighed in relief as the chess pieces let them pass. Eddie's confidence was restored to a much greater extent, and his breathing calmed. They could do it.

The six of them crowded in the potion room.

"Remember," Tom told them, "Snape told us to drink the smallest one, which is this." He held it up. "So. Who's it gonna be?"

"I'll do it," Eddie said to much surprise. He even doubted it himself, in that small, nagging corner of his mind. But his mind was set. He was desperate to prove his dream - no, his nightmare - wrong.

"Eddie, are you sure?" Tom asked.

"Yes."

"Alright then. Any objections?" A murmur broke out amongst them. Tom looked skeptical, but he handed Eddie the potion.

Eddie drank the potion in one gulp, shuddered as it coursed through his body, and stared into the jet black flames.

"Now go make Hufflepuff proud," Tom said and grinned.

"I will."

He stepped through the fire.

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As expected, when Eddie walked through the black flames, Quirrell was standing there.

"I hear you have a new host, Tom. Or should I call you Lord Voldemort?"

Quirrell turned. "Mr. Pattinson. You survived."

Eddie smirked. "Surprised?"

"Your arrogance blinds you. Now you will experience the full power of my wrath."

He began to unwrap his turban. Underneath it was the scarred, deformed face of one Lord Voldemort. Chalk white, like a misshapen mold of clay, it bore two glaring red eyes, and where a nose should have been, snake-like slits. This shut Eddie up pretty well. As intimidating as Quirrell was, there was no contest between a measly professor, and the greatest Dark wizard of all time.

Eddie, trying desperately to push his own fears out of his mind, remarked, "S-Somebody aged well."

Voldemort hissed.

"I was just examining this interesting mirror… but I'm confused. What does this mirror do? How does it work?"

Instantly, Eddie remembered his Occlumency lessons, and shut his mind so Quirrell couldn't see.

"Use the boy…" Voldemort hissed once more.

Quirrell looked up. "Come here, Pattinson!" he shouted. "Now!"

The professor's sharp, commanding tone took Eddie out of his "hero" mindset altogether now. Reluctantly, Eddie walked forward.
"Now, look into the mirror, and tell me what you see!" Quirrell barked.

This froze Eddie in his tracks. He tried to think of a response, then he remembered the book…

Still concentrating on his Occlumency, Eddie said, "I see H-Hufflepuff winning the House Cup," Eddie told the professor, knowing damn well it wouldn't fool him. He felt the stone drop into his pocket.

"Lies!" Quirrell spat.

But there was no stopping Eddie now. He dashed back towards the flames at a run.

"Stop him!" Voldemort screeched.

Quirrell was helpless to do anything. Eddie was ready to leap through the black, flickering fire, the stone his, Quirrell to rot, but then, with admirable force, realisation struck him.

There was, after all, no potion to protect him from the fire anymore. All of it had been consumed, and he supposed he could now hear his death knell. His hands shook violently as his pupils dilated in fear he'd never felt before - the fear of death. Desperately, and with inhumane speed, thoughts were rushing past his mind. Would he, like a protagonist, survive? How he wished it was a story - why did he ever agree to this? But this wasn't time to think about those. Had the Bringer of Balance ever mentioned about death?

His knees shook as he froze on the spot. He had no options. He had failed the Bringer of Balance… but it wouldn't be new to the Bringer. Another set of teenagers would take their place, set to face the perils he had failed at. And now irritation sparked as he thought of how he had volunteered. Couldn't he have just allowed Tom?

He took a deep, shaky breath. His mind raced at too high a speed. He decided that he wouldn't die trying to run, but he would die as a loyal student of Hogwarts, facing Lord Voldemort. Managing to steady his knees, he turned, with a rejuvenated spirit of bravery.

Quirrell smirked. "So…your brilliant idea was not so brilliant after all."

"Expelli-" Eddie began, but it was blocked. Having not learned the spell, it was probably to be weak regardless.

"I really don't have time for games, Pattinson, so if you could just hand me that stone in your pocket, and we'll be off."

Eddie looked down at the stone, horror-struck, then back at Quirrel-mort. Slowly, he walked over. His mind and heart both urged him against it, but his legs pushed him forward, towards Quirrell.

"Good….Goood," Voldemort hissed for a third time. "Now hand me the stone and I shall let you free…."

Eddie scowled. "Whatever." He purposely spoke nonchalantly, so as to draw Voldemort off guard, but his mind was racing extremely fast, trying to come up with an on-the-spot Plan B.

He offered the stone, and then, before Quirrell could take it-

"Stupefy!" He drew his wand quickly, and this time Quirrell was too slow. He fell to the ground.

Immediately he scampered off towards the flames to think- now with time that was albeit limited- but he never got there. He tripped and fell -doink- banging his head on the steps and knocking himself out.

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When he came to, he was greeted by a roar of colors and whiz-bangs.

Tom was furiously battling Quirrell, along with Natalie, Lily, and Nathan.

"What the —"

"Eddie!" Lily dashed over to him.

"The hell's going on here?"

"Okay so —" Lily tried to explain, but ducked a missed curse from Quirrell instead. "So you know that potion refills itself right?"

"What poti - oh," Eddie realized, eyes wide.

"Yep, every five minutes."

"So… I've been out… what -" he asked, counting heads, "- twenty minutes?"

"Yep. Quirrell was about to take the stone but Natalie arrived just in time and hexed him."

Seeing clearly now, Eddie was able to notice Quirrell's shoes doing a furious tap dance. He laughed, out of nervousness more than anything, and barely had time to pick himself up before he heard a noise from behind him. He whipped around.

"Dumbledore!" he exclaimed.

For the aged wizard had just stepped through the flames.

"Ah, Quirinus," Dumbledore greeted Quirrell calmly. "Unfortunately, this does mean you will be fired, I hope you know."

Tom laughed. This new spurt of bravery being put on by the group enthralled Eddie, but also worried him. One of the lessons he had learned from playing and watching sports over the years, or just engaging in competition in general, was to not get overconfident, about anything. "Good one sir!" he said, as he dodged another hex from Quirrell. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Thank you, Mr. Hewett… but now is not the time for jokes, I apologize."

Dumbledore took out his wand. "Impedimenta!" he boomed. Quirrell was frozen in place.

"Now, quickly," Dumbledore motioned over to them. "Take Fawkes, he'll get you out of here. Leave me to deal with Quirrell!"

Without question they obeyed. Eddie was alarmed when Fawkes started to head for the black flames, but all he felt was a cold sensation, and they were through. They flew into the potion room, through the chess room, into the flying key room, and up the Devil's Snare pit, where they were dropped off by Fluffy, who was still sleeping. Quietly, they tip-toed back to their common room.

Eddie creaked open the door of the Hufflepuff boys' dormitory to find Ernie, Justin, and Wayne fast asleep, struggling to comprehend the surreality of what he'd just been through. He flopped onto his bed, not even bothering to pull his covers over himself, and within minutes, seconds it seemed, he was also asleep. No human could ever forget such a day, and Eddie was no exception.