A/N: Ok, this one is really short, almost drabble-like. It's only about 750 words. The thing is I'm getting tired of Sorcerer's/Philosopher's Stone just wanted to finish with it. I'll likely add a chapter on the summer after, then take a break to research the following book for more material.
It appears that Harry is not carrying his wand during his encounter with Quirrell, so I nixed it for the story.
In this story, I have followed the style of the book in using italics to differentiate thought versus speech.
The man he followed was … Quirrell? Where was Snape? Harry thought in confusion, After all this time it was Quirrell all along? How could that be? Does that mean t hat Snape is innocent?
"Yes, Harry Potter, it was I," Quirrell hissed, no longer having a stutter or a twitch. "I was the one who tried to kill you at the Quidditch match. Unfortunately, Snape was smart enough to mutter a counter-curse. I will kill you tonight!"
Quirrell snapped his fingers and a rope appeared out of nowhere and flew towards Harry. Harry raised his hand and the rope fell to the ground before it could reach him. Harry was tired of all the pretense. After going through an entire school year pretending to be less than he really was, Harry could no longer hold it all in. Ron and Hermoine had helped him through several obstacles, but now he was facing the enemy all alone and there was nothing to hold him back.
"You are mistaken. I won't be the one to die this evening," said Harry confidently.
"What?! What are you playing at, boy?" Quirrell said in surprise. There was a little tremble in his voice.
"You are not the only one who has been keeping secrets." Harry pointed at Quirrell and he collapsed on the floor, unconscious. Harry walked over to what looked like the Mirror of Erised. I need to get the stone away from here, Harry thought. Quirrell was searching the mirror when I came in, so it must be somewhere around it, but where? Harry peered into the mirror and saw himself. His reflection was holding the stone and was smiling. It took the stone an placed it in it's pocket. Harry suddenly felt a weight fall into his own pocket. He reached in and pulled out the Sorcerer's Stone!
As Harry turned around he saw that Quirrell was coming to. "You'll never get the stone," Harry said.
"You have failed me again!" came a shrill ethereal voice.
Harry looked around, but there was no one else in the room. He saw that Quirrell was unwrapping his turban.
"I want to face him! Let him see his true enemy!" shouted the voice.
Quirrell turned around and there, on the back of Quirrell's head, was a snake-like face with ruby red eyes. It was the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. Harry was stunned.
"Yes, it is I, Lord Voldemort! I, the one who killed your parents eleven years ago, am the one who will now snuff your life. Give me the stone! Quirrell, kill the boy!"
"But, master!"
"Kill him!"
Before Harry could react, Quirrell lunged for him choking him with both hands. However, Quirrell screamed, "My hands! Master, my hands … my hands are burning!"
"Kill him!" Voldemort screeched.
Harry was struggling and as Quirrell loosened his grip, Harry raised his hands and magically thrust Quirrell high into the air. Quirrell hit the ceiling with a thud. Harry then made a circular motion with his arm and Quirrell spun around the room over and over. As Quirrell was spinning around, Harry ignited him and Quirrell burst into flame. Not wanting to kill him, Harry threw him back down to the ground and doused him out.
"Master, help me!" yelled Quirrell.
"You are weak, Quirrell! If only I were already restored, I would finish you off Potter! You have shown that you have learned quite a bit, but you cannot equal my greatness! Perhaps, I will show mercy if you were to join me. Replace Quirrell, become my servant and let me inhabit your body! I can use your power. I can make you great. All will fear and bow to you!"
"You are raving mad! I would never be your … your … whatever it is that you have made Quirrell into." Harry walked over to the charred Quirrell "… and I will not allow Quirrell to serve you any longer." Harry reached for Quirrell's head. He made a gesture, pulling Quirrells memories and sanity out of him mind. Quirrell then sat there with a blank stare, drooling on the floor.
"Harry, are you alright?!" came Dumbledore's voice from the doorway.
As Harry turned around to answer, he slipped on Quirrell's silk turban wrappings and fell to the floor, hitting his head hard. His eyes briefly saw Dumbledore racing down the steps when he drifted into unconsciousness.