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Harry Potter/Granger and the Philosopher's Stone
Later that night, when the rest of Gryffindor House had gone to bed, Harry and Ron- both had gone up to their dorms to avoid suspicion, but neither had even bothered to change into their pyjamas, just getting into bed as early as they could without anybody noticing them- crept out of the dorms and down the stairs, each holding their wands in their rights hands. Harry also had his invisibility cloak slung over his shoulder, and the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas was tucked securely in his pocket; he doubted that any of them could sing well enough to put 'Fluffy' to sleep.
As soon as he and Ron reached the bottom, finding Hermione already waiting for them behind a chair- Harry wasn't surprised to see she was holding her own flute- he quickly tossed the cloak over the three of them, Ron- as the tallest- in the middle as he and Hermione positioned themselves on either side of him.
"We'll need to move carefully," Harry whispered, looking anxiously at his friends. "If anybody spots even a foot outside the cloak, it'll give the whole game away; we have to move as fast as possible, and try not to freak out at every little thing, got me? Keep an eye out for Filch or Mrs Norris, and stay away from them; if we have to, we'll take another route, but we have to get to the corridor as soon as-"
Hermione cut Harry off by clamping a hand over his mouth. For a moment, Harry was puzzled, but then he saw Neville Longbottom coming down the stairs, looking anxiously around himself. For a moment, Harry froze- had Neville heard them?- but then Neville's eyes flicked to something on the floor and he smiled in relief.
"Trevor!" he whispered softly, dashing over and grabbing the toad before heading back towards the stairs, keeping a tight grip of the small green creature as he headed back towards the dorms. For a moment, there was silence as the three people under the cloak waited for his footsteps to fade away at last, until, finally, the room was silent once again, leaving them to look anxiously at each other under the cloak.
"OK… that was close," Ron whispered, looking over at Harry and Hermione as he spoke. "So… shall we get out of here now?"
"Yeah," Harry said, grimly indicating the portrait hole before him. "We've got to get down there as soon as possible; I don't know when Snape's going after the Stone, but the sooner the better."
Nodding in agreement, Ron and Hermione quickly started walking towards the door, Harry swiftly joining them as they hurried for the portrait hole.
As soon as they were outside the portrait hole, the three of them began to hurry towards the third floor corridor as rapidly as they could, each of them anxiously scanning their surroundings. In the dark, it was easy enough for every shadow they passed by to be mistaken for Filch, while every breath of wind could be easily taken for Peeves passing by them before he alerted somebody else to their presence. They did briefly pass by Mrs Norris as she prowled the first-floor corridors, but apart from Ron's request to kick her- a request that was quickly shushed by Harry and Hermione- that went by without incident.
Eventually, the three of them found themselves standing outside the door to the third floor corridor, looking anxiously at each other as they shrugged the cloak off their shoulders and glanced around at each other, silent for a moment before Harry spoke.
"We'd better leave the cloak here," he said, folding it up and placing it behind a nearby gargoyle. "Taking it through whatever traps have been set up would probably just be a waste of time; if nothing else, I doubt there's anything in there that depends solely on sight to see its 'targets'."
Taking a deep breath, he turned to look at the door before him, grasping the handle before he turned back to look at his friend and sister.
"Are you both sure you want to do this?" he asked them, looking anxiously between the two.
"Well…" Hermione said, a hesitant expression on her face for a brief moment, before she shrugged it off and looked intently at her brother. "As you probably guessed, I'm not certain, but if I let my little brother go off alone after all this, I'd never be able to forgive myself."
"Hermione…" Harry growled, the smile on his face belying the tone of his voice, "less of the 'little brother', please?"
Then he reached over and gave her a brief, grateful squeeze on the shoulder, more grateful than he could even bring himself to say, but knowing at the same time that Hermione didn't need words to know how much he appreciated what she was prepared to risk for him. A quick glance at Ron received an equally confident-yet-shaky nod, and Harry reached out to open the door with one hand, even as he and Hermione reached into their pockets to pull out the flutes Hagrid had made for them.
As they opened the door, Harry and Hermione instantly put the flutes to their lips and began to blow- not really any specific tune, but simply blowing into the flute as their fingers moved along the holes-, and, in a matter of seconds, the dog's growls had stopped and it had slumped to the ground before them, fast asleep.
"Keep playing…" Ron whispered anxiously over at his friends as he slowly crept towards the trapdoor that 'Fluffy' had been guarding. Gingerly, Ron moved the dog's giant paw from the door, constantly glancing at it every time it twitched in its sleep- it was all too easy to imagine what could happen if its 'weakness' to music had been exaggerated and it woke up at the wrong time- until, finally, Ron had taken a grip of the iron ring in the door and pulled it open. Glancing briefly down the hole, Ron sighed and looked back at the other two.
"Nothing," he said, evidently understanding their curious expressions. "It's just blackness; I can't even see any stairs, so we'll probably have to drop."
Brief glances were exchanged between the two flute-players, and Harry pointed to himself after a moment's pause.
"You want to go first?" Ron asked uncertainly. "I don't know… it seems pretty deep-"
Rolling his eyes, Harry glanced over at Hermione to make sure that she was still blowing on her flute; she was looking at him apprehensively, evidently aware of what he was about to do, but seemed prepared to let him take the first 'step' nevertheless.
With that confirmed, Harry tucked the flute he was playing into his pocket, walked over to stand beside the trapdoor, and looked briefly at Ron.
"If there is something dangerous down there, I'd prefer to be the one to face it first," he said simply to his friend, in a tone that clearly allowed for no argument. "If something goes wrong, you and Hermione go and send a message to Dumbledore, OK?"
"OK…" Ron said, nodding uncertainly.
"Good," Harry replied simply.
With that, he jumped into the hole before him, briefly feeling overwhelmed by the rush of cold, dark air flying past his head, and then…
FLUMP.
That was the only way Harry could describe the sound that was made when he landed; a kind of muffled 'thump', as he hit something that felt like a large plant; the light made it difficult to see it clearly, but it definitely felt like he was on a giant leaf of some kind.
"It's OK!" he yelled up to the light in the roof that was the only thing that indicated the presence of the trapdoor he'd entered by. "It's a soft landing; you can jump!"
No sooner had the form that Harry assumed to be Ron dropped through the portal than he suddenly realised that snakelike tendrils were starting to wind themselves around his legs.
"What the hell…?" he muttered, staring incredulously at the tendrils gathering around his legs. "This is not happening…"
Then Ron landed, prompting tendrils to start sneaking along his own legs, and Harry had to act.
"Hermione!" he yelled up at the trapdoor. "Take care when you come down; we've got a moving plant down here!"
Harry didn't mind admitting- even if it was only to himself- that if it had been anyone else he was talking to, he would have told them to get away from the trapdoor as fast as they could.
But, as it was Hermione he was talking to, he knew that such a thing would be pointless; if their positions were reversed, he wouldn't leave her in danger, and he knew for a fact that she'd do the same thing.
He wasn't disappointed; even as he pulled out his wand to try a couple of quick spells that sent the tendrils briefly recoiling from his legs- Ron was still trying to just crawl away from them and was only succeeding in attracting more of the things- he heard the soft flump as Hermione hit the plant, followed by her swiftly rolling off to the side, pressing herself up against a damp wall where the plant couldn't get to her.
"It's a Devil's Snare!" she yelled, staring in desperation at the plant that held her brother and her friend.
"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called," Ron muttered sarcastically as he strained at his bonds, which were rapidly tightening around his legs.
"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" Hermione yelled over at her friend.
"Well, could you remember a little faster; I can't do this forever, you know!" Harry yelled over at her, as he desperately crawled along the plant while launching spells at the tendrils aiming for his legs, cursing as he failed to actually make any significant impact on this bizarre giant 'flytrap'.
"Devil's Snare… Devil's Snare…" Hermione muttered to herself desperately. "Let's see… it likes the dark and damp…"
"Got it!" Harry yelled. Aiming his wand down, he yelled out "Incendio!" as loudly as he could, and sighed in relief as the plant began to wriggle in agony as the flames spread; waterproof fires may be Hermione's speciality, but Harry could still cast a decent charm if the need arose. As the plant flailed around desperately in pain, it unravelled back from the two young wizards it had been holding trapped, letting Ron and Harry rapidly dash over to Hermione, who was quickly rewarded with a hug from Harry.
"Thanks," he said, smiling gratefully at his sister. "Lucky you pay more attention than me in Herbology."
"And lucky that you always keep a clear head in a crisis," Hermione retorted, grinning back at her brother. "I'd probably have instinctively started worrying about how there wasn't any wood…"
For a moment, the two of them chuckled slightly at the thought of that, but then Ron coughed slightly and jerked his thumb towards a stone passageway leading away from the plant.
"Come on," he said, as he turned and started to walk down the passage. "We'd better get moving; the sooner we're out of here, the better, as far as I'm concerned."
Nodding in agreement, Harry and Hermione followed Ron down the passageway, neither of them trying not to think too much about how much the passageway reminded them of Gringotts; if they ended up facing an actual dragon, like those that were rumoured to be protecting the wizarding bank, Harry was pretty sure they'd be finished faster than you could say 'snitch'… they'd had trouble just dealing with Norbert, and he wasn't even fully grown at the time…
Ron suddenly paused in his trek along the passageway.
"Can you hear something?" he whispered, glancing over curiously at his friends.
Now that Ron mentioned it, Harry could hear a sound he hadn't been aware of before; a faint rustling and clinking, almost like a bunch of birds had started flying around in a room full of wind chimes.
"Look," Hermione whispered, pointing at the faint gleam of light at the end of the passage before the three of them. "There's light up ahead; I think I see something moving…"
"Keep going, but be careful," Harry added, pulling out his wand once more as he and his friends continued to advance. As they reached the end of the passage, they found themselves in a brilliantly-lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. Apart from the heavy wooden door on the other side of the room, the only thing Harry could see from the passageway was a couple of broomsticks scattered around the chamber, and a large number of small, jewel-bright birds flapping around above them, evidently the source of the sound they'd heard earlier.
Wait a minute… Harry muttered to himself, as he looked at the birds more carefully for a moment.
"Those aren't birds," he said, staring at them in surprise as he looked over at the others. "They're keys!"
"Really?" Hermione asked, looking up at the winged keys for a moment before she smiled slightly and looked back at her brother. "Well, that's a relief; I was worried that the challenge here was that we'd have to get the door open before being pecked to death by the birds."
"Yeah; instead, all we need to do is find one key amid all those things," Ron muttered grimly as he stared up at the ceiling, the top of the chamber practically invisible behind all the wings. "Any ideas how we can even work out which one might be the right key, short of just grabbing all of them one at a time?"
"Well, since we're pretty sure that Snape's already gone through, it seems like a decent guess that whatever key opens this door will have some sign of damage; I doubt you could grab one of those things and not leave some sign of it around the wings," Harry explained, as he looked over at his friends. "All we need to do is find a key that looks like it's already been used, and it should be easy from there."
"And what if he used several of them?" Ron pointed out critically. "How are we meant to pick the right one then?"
Harry shrugged as he picked up a broom. "Given that Snape helped set up the defences for this thing, it seems likely that he knew what at least some of the other teachers were doing; it seems like a pretty safe guess that he'd have a pretty good idea what key he'd have been looking for here, if nothing else."
"Makes… sense, I suppose," Hermione muttered, slightly uncertain as she looked uncertainly at one of the broom. "Um… Harry? Do I have to… y'know… fly on this?"
Despite the seriousness of the situation they currently faced, Harry allowed himself a small smile as he looked at his sister.
"Don't worry about it; Ron and I'll attend to this bit," he said, patting her reassuringly on the shoulder as he and Ron walked over to grab the broom. "You helped us with the Devil's Snare; I'll just consider this our time to shine and take it from there."
He glanced over at where Ron was setting himself up on the broom and smiled reassuringly at his friend.
"You ready?" he asked casually.
"As I'll ever be," Ron replied, nodding in confirmation. With that, the two of them slung their legs over the broomsticks and flew up into the air, leaving Hermione to stand on the ground and wait for them to find the key.
The two boys had only been flying for a couple of minutes- Ron was actually rather good at this, Harry noted; he'd evidently inherited his family's general talent for the sport- when Harry's eyes finally fell on a large silver key with a bent wing that was flying slightly slower than the others.
Harry didn't even stop to think; he knew what he was capable of, and he had no doubts about his ability to pull this off. He'd caught the golden snitch on two separate occasions already- to say nothing of the remembrall and the golf balls he'd practised with all those months ago- and the snitch alone moved far faster and was significantly more agile than these keys. If he couldn't catch
Turning the broom to face the key- it was a bit slower than what he was used to, but still pretty fast- he charged forward, one hand outstretched, and swiftly had it pinned to the wall before him, wing beating forlornly as Harry smiled back at his friends. Taking a firm grip of the key, Harry flew back down to the floor, closely followed by Ron, and subsequently opened the door before him, then releasing the key to fly back up to join its fellows.
"Well, that wasn't too bad," Hermione shrugged, looking curiously over at her brother as they walked through the door. "Where was the challenge in that, I ask you, I mean, they actually give you the opportunity to find a way out…"
"That's the thing about these traps, I guess; it's probably meant to be the accumulation of them that's the problems, rather than each one on its own," Harry mused, as he glanced back at the door as it shut. "You have to admire Flitwick, really; that was some very impressive charm-work…"
"Flitwick?" Ron said, looking over in confusion at his friend. "What does- oh yeah, he was one of the teachers who helped set this up, wasn't he?"
"Exactly," Hermione said, nodding in confirmation. "Sprout must have provided the Devil's Snare, Flitwick did the keys, it seems like a safe bet that Snape's will involve potions in some manner, so the only real mysteries down here are McGonagall's, Quirrell's, and Dumbledore's."
"No need to worry about Dumbledore's for the moment; knowing him, it'll probably be the last one of the lot," Harry said, shrugging nonchalantly as the three of them entered the next chamber, which was almost totally dark. "All we need to do is… is…"
Harry's voice trailed off somewhat as he took in the sight before them. It was a giant chessboard, filled with various giant-sized stone wizard chessmen, all of which were taller than they were. They were currently at the black end of the chessboard, facing the tall white chessmen on the other side, with the wizard 'pawns' holding their weapons between the spaces on the board and preventing anybody from just walking across.
"Ah," Hermione said, swallowing slightly as she looked at the board. "This would be McGonagall's, I assume…"
"Most likely," Harry sighed, as he studied the board. "Looks like we'll have to play our way across…"
"Right then," Ron said, stepping forward with a slight smile on his face as he looked at his friends. "No offence, but chess is my forte; I'll do this one, OK?"
"Fair enough," Harry said, smiling reassuring at his friend; after all, he and Hermione had already cracked one test each with their talents, so it was only fair that Ron have a chance to shine himself. "Chess is your game, Ron; make your call."
"Right then," Ron said, nodding with renewed confidence as he turned his attention back to the board before him. "We'll probably have to take the place of three pieces for this to work; Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you be a castle."
"And you?" Hermione asked, looking over at Ron with a slight smile on her face; it made a change to see him be willing to take charge for once, rather than almost always waiting for her or Hermione to take the lead.
"I'm going to be a knight," Ron said, nodding resolutely, his confidence evident as three chessmen, apparently having 'heard' them, moved off the board to allow them to take position.
You have to admit, Hermione mused to herself, smiling slightly as the three of them took up position and Ron began to issue his orders to the other pieces, he's definitely a different person when he's in his element.
Ron knew that she and Harry never intended to make him feel stupid or anything like that, but the fact of the matter remained that they were significantly better at their schoolwork than he was, even if they didn't make it obvious. Right now, however, he was doing something that he knew he was good at, tackling a problem that he knew how to deal with, and his confidence showed. In an almost calm voice, Ron directed the pieces around the board, directing Hermione to take a bishop and moving Harry to evade an 'attack' by a castle.
Then, of course, Ron paused for a few moments, looking anxiously around himself, and Hermione found herself suddenly worried.
This was not good…
"Uh… Ron?" she asked, looking anxiously at the red-haired boy standing near the middle of the chessboard. "What's wrong?"
"Yes…" Ron mused softly, almost to himself. "It's the only way… I've got to be taken…"
"NO!" Harry yelled, looking over in shock at his friend. "You can't do-"
"That's chess!" Ron shouted back over at the two of them. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and the queen'll take me; that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"
"But-" Hermione protested as she looked at her friend.
"Look, do you want to stop Snape or not?" the youngest male Weasley said, looking critically over at her. "If you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone and have handed it over to Voldemort!"
For a moment, there was silence, but then Harry looked over at Hermione and sighed in a dejected, resigned manner.
Hermione knew what her brother was saying even without him saying it.
There's nothing else we can do.
As much as Hermione hated the idea of Ron having to… sacrifice himself… for them to succeed, there was nothing else they could do right now.
"Ready?" Ron asked, his face pale but determined as he looked ahead of himself. "Here I go… don't hang around once you've won…"
As Ron stepped forward, Harry could only cross his fingers, praying that the queen's attack wouldn't be powerful enough to do any permanent damage to Ron…
Then the queen moved towards Ron, striking Ron had around the head with her stone arm and sending him crumbling to the ground.
"NO!" Hermione yelled, as she raised a foot to walk towards her friend-
"Don't," Harry said, holding out a hand firmly to stop his sister. "We're still in play; you move now, and you're the next move in the game."
After a moment's pause to make sure his sister was doing what he'd asked her to, Harry moved three spaces to the left, halting as he stared up at the white king before him.
"Checkmate," he said simply.
With that, the white king released his grip on his sword, sending it crashing down to the ground before Harry. As the chessmen stepped away, leaving the path ahead clear, Harry and Hermione exchanged a brief glance before walking hastily towards the door, sparing only brief glances at Ron as they walked.
"What if he's-"
"He'll be fine," Harry stated grimly as he walked onwards, refusing to contemplate anything else; he'd survived multiple beatings when he was only five, so Ron had to be able to survive one blow at over twice that age. "OK, so that's three down; we've only got Quirrell's and Snape's left to get through…"
He paused for a moment as he raised his nose and sniffed uncertainly. "What the hell is that?"
"It's coming from behind here…" Hermione muttered, looking uncertainly at the door before them. Pulling out their wands, she and Harry exchanged another brief glance with each other before they opened the door before them, each tensed for anything…
Then they found their eyes almost watering as they saw a disgusting-smelling, comatose troll, larger even than the one they'd fought at Halloween, lying on the ground with a large bump on its forehead.
"Oh my god…" Hermione whispered, a hand over her mouth as she stared over at her brother in shock. "Somebody fought that thing…"
"Defeating a troll and defeating a wizard are totally different things; we shouldn't start worrying that we won't be able to handle whatever's waiting for us at the other end just because they took that out," Harry said grimly as he indicated the door. "Come on, let's get out of here; I can hardly breathe…"
As they hurried through the next door, Harry was relieved to see that this one led directly to the next room, which at least seemed simpler than the last few 'tests' they'd faced; it was only seven bottles on a table in the centre of the room, all of different shapes.
"Snape's at last, huh?" Harry sighed, as he shook his head while staring at the potions before him. "So, what- WHOA!" he yelled; he and Hermione had no sooner walked through the door than purple- Harry had to look twice, but they were definitely purple flames- leapt up behind them, while black flames appeared before them.
"Ah," Hermione said, looking back at the flames with a dejected expression. "Well, that's going to make this whole thing very awkward."
"Tell me about it…" Harry muttered, as he studied the room around them- maybe there was some kind of switch he could use to turn the flames off…
"Hey… what's this?" he said, pausing in his examination as he noticed a roll of paper lying on the table beside the bottles. Walking over to the table, he picked it up and studied the words written on it;
Danger lies before you, while safety lies
behind,
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find
One
among us seven will let you move again,
Another will transport the
drinker back instead,
Two among our number hold only nettle
wine,
Three of us our killers, waiting hidden in line.
Choose,
unless you want to stay here forevermore.
To help us in your
choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the
potion tries to hide
You will always find some on nettle wine's
left side;
Second, different are those who stand at either
end,
But if you move onward, neither is your friend;
Third, as
you can see clearly, all are on different size,
Neither dwarf nor
giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, second left and
second on the right
Are twins but different on first sight
"Great… a bloody logic puzzle…" Harry groaned, as he stared at the 'puzzle' before him before handing the paper over to Hermione. "You're the Spock of this family; I'm just the amateur Sherlock Holmes. Your turn to crack the puzzle, OK?"
"I'm not that bad-" Hermione began to protest.
"Please, Hermione; I sometimes need to look to make sure your ears aren't pointed," Harry replied, chuckling slightly as he looked at his sister. "Anyway, you get on and use that brain of yours to see what you can do about cracking this code; I'll wait."
With that, Harry leant back against a nearby wall, placed his hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling, a confident smile on his face. Sighing slightly, Hermione turned her attention back to the piece of paper in her hand, pursing her lips as she stared at the clues.
"OK…" she muttered to herself as she studied the clues, glancing back at the bottles as she turned over the possibilities in her mind. "Seven bottles… one will get us through the black flames… one will take us back… three contain poison… two contain nettle wine… poisons are always on the left of the nettle wine… the big and the small ones don't contain poison…"
After a few moments of muttering, during which Harry tried to keep himself occupied by recalling a couple of his favourite Sherlock Holmes stories- worrying about what he might end up facing when they got through the flames before them wouldn't help anybody- Hermione clapped her hands in relief.
"Got it," she said brightly as she looked back over at Harry. "This rounded one," she explained, as she picked up a bottle on the right end of the line, "will take us back through the purple flames, while… this… little one," she said, her cheeriness fading as she picked up the almost-empty small bottle she'd just picked up, "will… take us through… the black flames…"
Harry didn't even need to voice the problem with that arrangement; there was barely enough potion in that bottle for one person, never mind for two.
After a moment's silence, Harry sighed and reached out to take the smaller bottle from Hermione.
"I'll go on," he said, as he looked at Hermione. "You go back, get Ron, get a couple of broomsticks, and get out of here to call for help, OK?"
"But-" Hermione began, looking desperately at her brother, clearly about to protest his decision.
"Look, Hermione," Harry interrupted, putting the bottle back down on the table as he reached over to take his sister by the shoulders and glaring at her, "it would be obvious to my thick-headed uncle there's only enough for one person in this bottle, and even that's pushing it. If Snape's working for Voldemort, he's already got reason to go after me; I'm not giving him any more reasons to go after you than he's got already."
"But… but Harry…" Hermione protested weakly as she looked at the young boy who she considered her brother in every way other than blood. "What if Voldemort's with Snape already?"
For a moment, Harry hesitated, giving that matter the consideration it merited, before he shrugged and sighed.
"Well… I've beaten him once, and I didn't even know I was doing it at the time," he said, trying not to make it sound like such a big deal; even putting aside his dislike of his reputation, he didn't want to make Hermione more nervous than she already was. "I'll probably get lucky again."
For a moment, the two of them just stood there looking at each other, uncertain what to say in this moment, until Hermione finally broke the silence by sighing and giving Harry a brief hug.
"Good luck," she said simply, looking at her brother with a resolved expression. She may look relatively collected, but Harry knew her well enough to know that she was fighting to stay in control of herself right now, and wisely decided not to say anything; they needed to do what had to be done as soon as possible.
Turning to look at the two bottles of potion before her, Hermione quickly picked up the one she'd identified as the one to take them back, swallowed it, shivered slightly- clearly it was a very cold drink; Hermione had never totally understood Harry's fondness for ice- and then turned around and hurried back through the flames, leaving Harry standing alone in the room.
Taking a deep breath- as much as he trusted Hermione's judgement, a little apprehension was only to be expected, after all- Harry reached out, picked up the bottle holding the potion that would take him through the fire in the other direction, and swallowed it.
An icy feeling ran through his body, and Harry knew that he was either shielded from the flames, or he was as good as dead already from taking poison by accident.
Either way, he had to get moving.
Turning to face the black fires before him, Harry pulled out his wand, took a deep breath, and dived forward through the flames. Even as he walked through them, his clothes and skin remained untouched while he himself started to sweat… it was stifling hot… he could barely see… he felt sure that his skin was going to burn… he cursed himself for having to do this…
Then he was out the other side, standing in a small stone room with only two objects in it.
One was a tall object, glimmering faintly from the light caused by the fire, that he couldn't quite see from this distance and in this relatively poor light; he'd need to take a few more steps towards it to make it out completely.
The other was a person, but it was the last person Harry had ever expected to see here after all their deductions about Snape's motives for working with Voldemort.
"Quirrell?" he said, unable to stop himself at the shock of seeing the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher standing in the stone chamber before him.
"Me," the man replied, smiling maliciously at Harry.
Then he casually raised his fingers, clicked them once, and Harry suddenly found himself bound on all sides by thick ropes from nowhere, staring incredulously at the man before him.
