"A fake! Dumbledore again!" Voldemort's voice hissed in anger as Quirrel trembled. "Master, my form cannot sustain this level of power for much longer. We must find the stone soon or all will be lost!"
"Silence! I know of only one other place he might have hidden it. Leave the boy, we must prepare to face the oaf groundskeeper." Voldemort said, turning away from the shattered remains of the mirror of Erised.
Stepping over the body of young Harry Potter, twitching despite being unconscious, Quirrel frowned. "Hagrid, master? How could that fool possibly protect the stone?"
"Do not question me!" Voldemort hissed, sending a jolt of pain through the minion whose body he shared. "I do not know all the specifics, they were taken from me long ago, but I remember snippets. Including that the beast is much more dangerous than it seems.
A short journey took the two back through the so-called traps and outside the school to the oversized hut Hagrid lived in. "Hagrid! I have come for the stone, do not bother resisting!" Quirrel shouted as he blasted the door off its hinges.
"Now why would you think I have it?" the half-giant asked with surprising calm, retaining his accent though losing the affected idiocy he used around others.
"Don't act the fool with me, beast!" Quirrel spat, "My master will rip the soul from your body and feed it to you! You will beg for death, and we will not grant it. Now hand over the stone!"
"Would you like a cup of tea, professor? Perhaps a rock… cake?" Hagrid asked, chuckling at his joke. In the back of Quirrel's mind, Voldemort seethed at the reference to the item he had retrieved from the mirror back in Hogwards.
"Enough!" The face in the back of Quirrel's head shouted. "I am the dark lord! Mortals tremble at the mere mention of my name, you will learn to do the same. I have lost my patience, it is time to teach you the meaning of pain! CRUCIO!"
The spell flew across the room in a reddish flash, striking Hagrid right in his chest. He merely chuckled and stood up. "Ouch." He said, before staring blankly at the wizard who was now flinging gouging and blasting curses at him. Showing his giant heritage, curses that should have severed his limbs merely made shallow cuts and blasting curses that would have turned a human into geography merely ripped chunks out of his skin and sometimes muscle. Nevertheless, the volume of spells took their toll and blood soon covered the floor and nearby furniture.
"Release restraint level one." Hagrid said, and suddenly the light in the room seemed to dim. The heat from the hearth grew stifling and humid, reeking faintly of sulphur.
"Restraint what?" Quirrel said, before what had always been a slow, lumbering beast of a man became a blur that just as quickly resolved into a subtly-different Hagrid standing right in front of him, hunched over so he could look right into Quirrel's eyes.
Quirrel had no time to think about what was different about Hagrid, he found himself instead distracted by the sudden absence of his arm. He began screaming as he registered the pain, blood spurting from the ruin that had been his shoulder.
"Well?" Hagrid asked the screaming wizard, "You were talking all that good shit a moment ago but remove one little arm and suddenly there's no more torment. Come on, fight me! Unleash your demons!"
In the middle of the Forbidden Forest, a centaur stared at the stars visible from his little clearing. "Mars dims once more," he murmured as if to himself. "The pumpkin patch will grow large this season," another said as it joined him in staring at the stars and the secrets they hid.
Meanwhile, in the Hospital wing of the school, Headmaster Dumbledore carefully rearranged memories in the mind of one Harry Potter, adding a few of his own making to shape a new narrative. 'Poor boy,' he thought, 'better to think his mother protected him from beyond the grave, than remember the horrors of the cruciatus at such a young age.'