Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Writers Notes: Thanks to my beta HGranger89 and thanks to my readers for the feedback.
The year was finally heading into the last few weeks of May, and all of Hogwarts' professors were preparing the students for their examinations. Quirrell had been lying low for the last couple of months once Severus convinced the Headmaster to keep an eye on him. Even Dumbledore was sure that Quirrell had been acting strangely as of late. With Dumbledore watching his every move, the Defense Professor wasn't brave enough to put a single toe out of line.
Severus' mood was more pleasant than usual, primarily due to the enjoyment he derived from watching McGonagall's face as she reluctantly handed over and he graciously accepted the Quidditch cup. He placed in right beside the house cup in his office just to infuriate the Head of Gryffindor whenever she came over for chess and firewhiskey.
At the beginning of June, Severus made his way to the Great Hall for lunch, having just completed marking his O.W.L and N.E.W.T exams. Merlin, Severus was convinced that the students were getting dumber with each passing year. A tiny group of students were able just to attain Snape's seemingly impossible standards, not that he would tell them. Severus was pleased to see that the Granger girl's grades had significantly improved since his warning about the Mirror of Erised.
The day Dumbledore was called away to the Ministry, Severus knew as surely as the sun rose in the East that Quirrell would make another move on the Philosopher's Stone. He was fully prepared to go down there and drag Quirrell back up dead or alive, in the end, it didn't matter to Severus. Just as the Potions Master was prepared to march up to the third floor, Dumbledore flooed into his quarters.
"Headmaster, Quirrell is…" Severus spat out as Albus waved him down.
"I am aware. When I arrived at the Ministry, they had no record of any scheduled meetings for me."
"Well Albus, we must depart immediately and drag Quirinus away from the Stone. We need to remove him from the castle, why are you just standing around in my office?" asked the confused younger man.
"Severus, my dear boy," replied Dumbledore, touching Severus' forearm, "I'll go and collect Quirrell myself."
Severus' glared at the older man, before nodding in compliance. The Headmaster was oblivious to the dark look, for daring to call Severus 'my boy'. Severus still resented the Headmaster for not paying him any attention as a child, writing him off as soon as that damn sorting hat called out 'Slytherin'. "
Using his privilege as Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore apparated directly to the chamber below the third-floor corridor where the stone had been hidden.
Just as Dumbledore and Severus predicted, Quirrell was standing in front of the Mirror of Erised, glaring at the mirror and muttering under his breath in anger as he could see himself with the Stone, but could not attain it.
"Good evening, Quirinus," Quirrell tilted his head back to see the Headmaster. "What are you doing here at such a late hour?"
"He... Headmast...er I th... thought the... Min... Ministry called you," seeing the Headmaster had caught the nervous man wholly caught off guard, thwarting his carefully laid plans.
"It seems that I was led on a 'wild goose chase' as the Muggles say," Dumbledore smiled, "Tell me Quirinus, what are you doing here?"
"Headmaster, I was co... concerned that with your ab... absence Sev... Severus would steal the stone." Quirrell could tell by the look in Dumbledore's eyes he didn't believe anything he was saying.
"Let me speak with him," hissed a cold voice that echoed in the small chamber. Quirrell smiled, pleased to hear that his master wanted to talk to Dumbledore. Carefully Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away, and Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. The man turned slowly on the spot and in place of the back of Quirrell's head was a face, the most terrible face Dumbledore had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.
"Tom what a pleasure to see you again," Dumbledore said sarcastically. Having worked with Severus for the last decade, he had picked up a thing or two from his young spy.
"I wouldn't say it's a pleasure Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed, "See what I become?"
"I'll say it's a good look for you," Dumbledore said, as Voldemort laughed in return.
"Tell me Dumbledore, would you like to see Ariana again and reconcile with your brother Aberforth?" Voldemort said sounding more and more like a snake. Once the wraith spoke the names of Dumbledore's siblings, their images appear in the mirror, Albus standing happily alongside them. Voldemort smirked as a fourth figure appeared, a young blond teen, Gellert Grindelwald. "You could start again with an old lover. You can have all of this; I'm just asking for one thing in return."
"In my experience, it is best to leave the past as it is and as it was Tom. It is never wise to meddle with events that have already transpired." Dumbledore spoke, his voice full of regret. He would be lying to himself if he told himself he wasn't a little tempted by Voldemort's offer, but Albus knew that like the devil, Tom's promises were nothing but lies and deceit.
"Given the chance to repeat the past, I would have left you at that orphanage Tom," Dumbledore said, ducking for cover as Quirrell launched non-verbal spells at him, causing Voldemort to cackle.
"This is where you die Dumbledore, helpless and alone," Voldemort spoke vilely, at long last he would see the Great and Powerful Dumbledore finally fall. "After I kill you, and have my body back, I'm going to kill the boy, then slaughter the filthy Mudbloods you dare let walk these halls," Voldemort yelled as Quirrell continued throwing spells at Dumbledore, only for the Headmaster to block them with ease.
Voldemort was cursing, belittling and threatening Quirrell to stop playing around with Dumbledore and kill him. He was also cursing himself; he had chosen Quirrell because he believed a weak–minded wizard, would be easy to control... Unfortunately, Quirrell also lacked power and was weak magically. "Kill him, kill him, kill him," the wraith screamed from the back of Quirrell's skull.
Try as he might, Quirrell was unable to make any contact with the old wizard, sending many dark spells only for them to be flicked away.
"Master!" Quirrell cried out like a lost child looking for their parents. The man was becoming hysterical as it became evident that he could not defeat Dumbledore alone. "Master! He's too strong. Help! Help me!"
"You're weak! Helpless! Pathetic!" Voldemort roared violently, at Quirrell. Then, Albus, with a quick flick of his wrist, disarmed his former employee and captured the young wizard in binds preventing him from escaping. Dumbledore slowly walked over to Quirrell who looked up in terror.
"It's over, Tom," Dumbledore spoke blandly, with a smile on his face that fell when Quirrell screamed out in pain as though he was being tortured by the cruciatus curse. Dumbledore tried to go to his aid, but before he could do anything, the wraith left Quirrell's body and tried to possess and kill Dumbledore. However, before Tom could do anything, Dumbledore acted first, and the remains of Lord Voldemort flew off disappearing into the night.
Dumbledore turned back to Quirrell, finding the man dead after the wraith expelled itself from his body after such a long and painful possession. Looking down at the body with pity and remorse, Dumbledore levitated the deceased and began the long trek on foot back to his tower.