Angels, and ministers of grace, defend us!
Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd.
Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell.
Be thy intents wicked or charitable.
Thou com'st in such a questionable shape,
That I will speak to thee.

—William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Chapter Ten

That night, the four girls silently waited together for their doom to come. Anxiously, they sat around the common room, quietly playing gin rummy until the crowd of students died down. None of them felt like talking; they simply exchanged very nervous looks. Artemis wandered down the stairs at one point, and curled up by Holly. The warm presence of her cat gave Holly courage.

Once people in the Gryffindor common room started trickling off to bed, Holly pulled out the cloak. "We're going to have to stay close together," Holly told them. "Otherwise our feet will be seen."

"What are you doing?" Neville asked, appearing from the corner of the common room. He had Trevor clutched tightly in his hand.

"Nothing," Holly told him, pushing the cloak behind her back.

"You're going out?" he asked, staring at their guilty faces. "Hermione, we already got in trouble once!"

"It's really important, Neville," Hermione told him. "More important than one dragon."

"I won't let you do it," Neville said. "You'll lose points for Gryffindor, and then we'll never get the Cup. If you go, I'll tell!" He hurried to stand in front of the portrait hole.

"Now is not the time for this, Neville," Lavender said soothingly. "We have to go. Hermione?"

Hermione sighed. "Neville, I am really, really sorry about this." She raised her wand and pointed it at him. "Pertrificus Totalus!"

Neville came to attention like a solider, his arms snapping to his sides. His legs sprang together, and his whole body went rigid, and he fell flat on his face, as stiff as a board.

Parvati ran and turned him over, putting a pillow under his head. "What have you done to him?" she asked Hermione in horror.

"The full Body-Bind," Holly said. "We had to Neville," she said, looking down at the boy. "There's no time to explain. You will understand tomorrow, hopefully."

They rushed from the common room, pulling on the cloak once they were outside. The Pink Lady was not in her portrait, so no alarm was raised. The four of them pulled the cloak on, and walked quickly down the hallway. Holly was certain their ankles and calves were showing, but there was no time to do anything about it. They didn't meet anyone until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing along, yanking up the carpet to trip people.

"Who's there?" he asked suddenly, looking in their direction. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you a ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"

"Oh, wee student beastie, definitely," Holly said.

Peeves cackled. "I know your voice," he sing-songed. "Naughty, naughty little Potty. Shouldn't you be in beddy-bye?"

"Well," Holly said, pulling the cloak off all four of them. She didn't know why, but seeing Peeves tonight had made her feel brave. Him, she could win against. "We are about to go bate a Cerberus, and then steal something that belongs to Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh, Miss Potter, what a plotter!" Peeves floated about, cross-legged. "You're a bad one, you are."

"Takes one to know one," Holly said. "Now, are you going to stop us, or are you going to let us go cause chaos?"

"Hee hee hee," Peeves snickered. "I didn't see nothing, no I didn't."

"Excellent," Holly said. "Well, we're going to be busy here tonight, so, off you pop."

Peeves stood to attention and gave her a salute.

"Brilliant, Holly," Lavender whispered.

The four girls rushed by him, still hearing Peeves laughing when they made it to the third-floor corridor—where they found the door already ajar.

"Already past Fluffy," Lavender whispered.

"Right," Holly said, swallowing. "Look, if something happens—"

"We're not leaving, Holly," Parvati hissed.

"But if one of you gets hurt—"

"If one of us gets hurt," Lavender said lowly, "we all keep going, agreed? We have to save the Stone!"

They all agreed, and then Holly pushed open the door. Fluffy's heads turned, growling at the new intruders. "Holly, now," Parvati said.

"God save our gracious Queen," Holly began, and Fluffy immediately collapsed forward on his paws. They could feel his hot breath. It smelled.

"It's working," Hermione said, "keep singing."

"Live long our noble Queen," Holly sang, watching as Lavender rushed over and lifted the trapdoor. "God save the Queen!"

"What to go first, Hermione?" Lavender asked nervously.

"No, I don't!"

"Send her victorious, happy and glorious…"

"I'll go," Parvati said.

"There's no way of climbing down," Lavender said. "We have to jump."

"See you at the bottom!" Parvati said, and then she was gone. After a few long seconds, they heard, "It's okay! It's a soft landing!"

Lavender jumped.

"She's right!" Lavender called from the dark.

"Long to reign over us, God save the Queen."

"Ready?" Hermione asked.

Holly took her hand. There was a loud bark, Fluffy was waking up, but before he could do so much as growl—

They jumped.

Landing on some sort of plant, Holly rolled to the side, wondering if she could see anything.

"We have to be miles under the school," Hermione said.

"We're okay, though," Parvati said. "The plant broke our fall."

"This isn't just any old plant," Lavender said, sounding panicked. "Look, it's Devil's Snare!"

Hermione and Holly jumped up at once, managing to run to the wall. The plant hadn't gotten them, its tendrils only barely beginning to wrap around their ankles. Lavender and Parvati, on the other hand, were covered in them all along their legs. Parvati was shrieking, trying to get loose, but it was no use.

"Light a fire!" Lavender yelled.

"But there's no wood!" Hermione cried.

"Everyone close your eyes!" Holly screamed. "Parvati, Lavender—get ready to run."

She let off a blast from her wand, a bright light that made the tentacles of the plant retreat at the bright light. Hermione, meanwhile, had gotten her wits back and conjured little bluebell flames. The girls were freed, and they eagerly ran to the others.

"This way," Holly said, leading them down a stone passage way.

The stone passage way went downwards, and they could hear the drip of water along the walls. As they moved along, Holly could hear a rustling sound ahead.

"What is that?" Parvati asked.

They reached the chamber beyond, and were no longer in darkness. The room was full of small, jewel-bright birds, flying all around the ceiling. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door. Holly guessed that there was no way forward but to run for it, and so yelled, "Now!" taking off and sprinting to the opposite side. She expected the birds to swoop down and peck her eyes out, but they didn't. Nothing happened.

Holly tried the unlocking charm on the door, but it didn't work.

The other three girls had crossed as well, and Hermione was looking upwards. "Those birds, they can't just be for decoration, can they?"

"They're keys!" Parvati said. "Look! That must mean we have to catch one of them." The girls turned and saw broomsticks propped against the wall. "Guessing from the lock, I think we're looking for a big silver old-fashioned one."

"Of course," Holly said sarcastically. "There had to be flying on brooms. Where is a good winged horse when you need it?"

"Come on, we're losing time," Hermione said.

Each girl took and broom, kicking off from the ground. They flew into the cloud of keys, but every single one was moving too fast to catch. Grabbing and snatching, still the bewitched keys evaded them. Still, as much as Holly hated flying, she did have rather keen eyes. Hovering in mid air, she looked around, scanning and—there!

"That one," she called to the others. "That big one, there—with bright blue wings and the feathers all crumpled on one side."

"Together," Parvati yelled. "We have to trap it!"

"Okay, I'll go low," Holly said, "Parvati, Hermione, you take right and left, and Lavender? You grab it. Ready, GO!"

Holly dived quickly, preventing the key from escaping that way. Overhead, she saw a bright pink blur as Lavender crashed into the wall. Holly managed to grab hold of Lavender's broom as she well, gripping the handle and leading it to the floor. Parvati and Hermione quickly followed, the latter letting out a soft sob.

"Is she okay?" Hermione asked.

Holly used her fingers to press against Lavender's neck, feeling around for a pulse. "She's all right," Holly told them. "Just knocked out."

"We have to get that key," Hermione said, looking upwards again in dismay.

"No, look!" Parvati said, pointing to Lavender's hand.

There, in an iron grasp, was the key, fluttering weakly against her hold.

"Oh, Lavender," Holly laughed, kissing her on the forehead. "You great, wonderful witch."

"We have to go on," Parvati said, taking the key from Lavender's unconscious hold.

"But what about—"

"She's right, Hermione," Holly told her. "We all promised."

They propped Lavender up against the door as comfortably as they could, and then ran to the door. Parvati fit the key in the lock, even as it struggled against her hold. Once the door opened, the key fluttered away and the girls moved into the next chamber.

At first it was so dark that they couldn't see anything. But then, as they tentatively stepped forward, lights flooded the room. They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard. In front of them were the black chessmen, all taller than they were and which looked as though they had been carved from stone.

"I think we have to play our way across," Parvati said, sounding scared. "Holly?"

"Right," the redhead nodded. "We're going to have to be chessmen, I think." She walked up and touched one of the chessmen, a rook, that came to life. "Do we have to join you to reach the other side?"

The rook nodded.

"Okay, right." Holly fought for calm. Taking deep breaths, she struggled to remember all she had learned, and nodded her head. "Parvati, you be the King's side bishop. Hermione go be a rook near her. I'll be a knight."

Once the pieces whose places they took had left the board, the other side made its first move.

Everything happened very quickly after that. Holly was desperately trying to protect her friends, and succeeded for the most part, though there were some close calls when she only just noticed that they were in danger. The real shock, though, was the fact that the pieces didn't just leave, but actually were smashed and dragged from the board, like real wizard's chess. Soon, there was a huddle of limp black players slumped against the wall.

"We're nearly there," Holly said, looking at the board. "Maybe ten, fifteen more moves we can take them?"

"There is no time for that," Parvati said. "There is a way to do it in two moves."

Holly looked at the board and saw that she was right, but immediately shook her head. "No."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"I have to block the King's retreat, and to do it…" Parvati said, trailing off. "I need to sacrifice myself," she said, looking at the board and recognizing enough from all the times she had seen Holly play.

"No!" Holly exclaimed.

"There is no time for anything else," Parvati said. "The stone could be almost be to You-Know-Who. We have to do this now."

"You can't," Holly cried.

"I wasn't asking for your permission, Holly," Parvati replied, smiling at her and then moving forward on the board. The white queen attacked, smacking Parvati aside with her stone arm and pushing her to one side. Holly moved forward, checking the King. And then, seeing that there was no further move, the king tossed his crown on the floor and left the board. With one last look at Parvati—Hermione and Holly ran through the exit to the next room.

"What if she's—" Hermione began.

"She'll be all right," Holly told her, trying to believe it.

When they reached another door, Holly opened it, and their noses were immediately filled with a foul stench. The girls raced across the room, darting past the corpse of a dead troll. Its brains were smashed on the floor. Hermione looked as though she was going to be sick.

When they got to the next door, they stepped inside and saw a simple table with seven bottles of different sizes, arranged in a single line. They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. The flames were purple, and suddenly black flames shot up in the doorway beyond.

"Look!" Hermione said, picking up a roll of paper from beside the bottles. She opened it up and began to read. By the time she got to the end of the riddle, she was smiling, and Holly was looking at her as if she were mad.

"Brilliant," Hermione said. "This isn't magic, it's logic. It's a puzzle, Holly," Hermione explained.

"Yeah, I got that bit," Holly said sarcastically. "Can you solve it?"

Hermione nodded.

She huddled over the paper, talking muttering to herself. It seemed as though she read it several times, and then looked at the bottles before conferring with the parchment once more.

"All right," Hermione said after a moment. "I have it. The smallest will move us on to the stone."

Holly looked at the tiny bottle. "There is only enough for one of us," she said. "That's hardly one swallow. Which one will get us back through the purple flames?"

Hermione pointed at the round bottle on the end.

"You drink that," Holly told them. "Get back to Parvati and Lavender, and take the brooms from the key flying room to get past the Devil's Snare and Fluffy. Then fly down to Hogsmeade and get Professors Sprout and Flitwick. Tell them what happened, and they will know how to contact Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall's house is Number Five, Dittany Lane. Got that?"

"What are you going to do?" Hermione asked, her voice sounding hoarse.

"Whoever is in there," Holly said, nodding to the black flames. "I have to hold them off as long as possible."

"But Holly," Hermione said, "what if it's You-Know-Who in person?"

Holly gave a jaunty smile. "Then I imagine you will be attending my funeral. Give me a jaunty eulogy, yeah?"

Hermione looked at Holly and then, burst into tears. She pulled the other witch into a hug, trying to take comfort in each other for these last few moments.

"Don't worry," Holly murmured to her. "I'm not afraid."

The other witch nodded, wiping her tears. Hermione looked as though she wanted to say something, but there was no time and they all knew it.

"You go first. Go now."

She did, drinking the bottle and stepping through the purple flames. Holly then drank from the little dwarf bottle. Immediately, her insides felt like ice. She put it down, and stepped forward. She could see the black flames on her, but felt nothing. One more step, and then she was in the chamber.

Just as she thought, it wasn't Snape…but it wasn't Voldemort either.

"You!" Holly exclaimed.

It was Professor Quirrell.

He was the servant of Lord Voldemort.

Holly gasped.

"I did rather wonder if I would be meeting you here, Miss Potter," Quirrell said, not a trace of stutter in his words. "It just seemed like such lovely symmetry, and now…here you are."

Holly stepped forward. "You tried to kill me."

"Yes," Quirrell said, smiling with satisfaction. "And I would have succeeded if that oaf Hagrid hadn't knocked me over. He broke my eye contact with the Bludger. Another few seconds, and that ball would have pounded you into the ground. I would have succeeded even sooner if it wasn't for Snape's pathetic little countercurse."

"Snape was trying to save me?" Holly repeated, shock filling her. She didn't know what she had been suspecting, but it wasn't that. She looked back to the doorway, wishing for some hero to come into the room and save her.

"Of course," Quirrell said coldly. "It was rather amusing when he charged so valiantly to the fore when the next match came, even volunteering to referee so that he would be in a position to rescue his lady fair at a moment's notice, should she tumble from the stands once more." He sneered. "Pathetic really, and he needn't have bothered, not only did Dumbledore show up…but you didn't." Quirrell laughed. "And then—how he followed you around! Like a starved dog, begging for scraps. And you didn't see him at all. Though, you might have actually given him what he desired had he been a starved dog."

Quirrell snapped his fingers, and ropes immediately appeared and wrapped themselves about Holly. "No matter," he said, as if to himself. "We shall kill you tonight, and our vengeance shall be had. Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

The mirror was interesting. It was standing just behind Quirrell, and was one of the most magnificent things that Holly had ever seen. Standing as tall as the ceiling, it had an ornate gold frame and two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top, it read: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

"The mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping on the frame with his wand. He began muttering to himself about Dumbledore, and Holly tried desperately to reach her wand in her pocket. It was no use, though. The ropes were too tight, and she could not move her fingers at all.

"I see the Stone…I'm presenting it to my master…but where is it?"

Holly knew that the moment Quirrell figured it out, she would die. She had to keep him talking, to buy as much time as she could. "You don't have to do this, you know. Professor Dumbledore will forgive you if you turn back now."

Quirrell reacted to that, hate filling his face. "I would never betray my master! I will die for him, and gladly."

"Yes," Holly said softly. "I think you will. When he doesn't need you anymore, once he has the stone—Voldemort will kill you."

"He would never!" Quirrell said. "He is with me wherever I go. I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it." Quirrell cursed under his breath. "I don't understand, is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it? What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, master."

"Use the girl…use the girl…"

Holly stared in horror. The voice had come from Quirrell, and yet he had not spoken. "What was that?"

Quirrell looked at her, smirking then. "Don't you listen? My master is with me…wherever I go." With that, he clapped his hands and the ropes fell away from Holly. "Come here; look into the mirror, and tell me what you see."

Holly moved slowly forward. Quirrell came up behind her, and the horrible smell of his turban wafted towards her. Desperately, she again wished in vain for a hero to come rescue her. Stepping in front of the mirror, Holly looked inside, and her face immediately screwed up in confusion.

It was a man, a wizard. He was holding a wand of ebony wood, and was wearing robes of black velvet open, revealing dragon hide trousers and boots, along with a red t-shirt with a golden phoenix on it. On the left breast, over his heart, was a very familiar crest—the Black crest. She would have thought he was Arcturus Black, but for the fact that he was young. His features were handsome, sculpted and masculine, and his eyes—his grey eyes—were kind. He made Holly feel brave, like in that moment she could do anything. Courage filled her, and she wondered if the man in the mirror wasn't the hero she had been wishing for ever since she stepped into the room and saw Quirrell.

"Well," Quirrell asked, his tone impatient. "What do you see?"

"Nothing," Holly said, shaking her head. "I see nothing."

"She lies…She lies…" a high voice said. It was the same as the one that had spoken before.

"Tell me the truth!" Quirrell screamed, spittle flying. "What do you see?"

"Let me speak to her…face to face…"

"Master, you are not strong enough!" Quirrell exclaimed, speaking to the open air.

"I have strength enough…for this," the voice said, high and cruel.

Horror filled Holly. She recognized it! There was only one man in the world that spoke like that, and he had long been a specter of Holly's nightmares.

Quirrell began to unwrap his turban, and once done, he turned on the spot.

Holly screamed.

There, sticking out of the back of Quirrell's head, was a face…a face that had long haunted her. It was as white as snow, the eyes red slits and the nose flat like a snake's.

The face of Lord Voldemort stared at her. "Holly Potter…see what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor…I have form only when I can share another's body…but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds…Unicorn blood has strengthen me, these past weeks…faithful Quirrell has been drinking it for me in the forest…and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own…and you shall die begging me for mercy…like your mother did."

"Never!" Holly screamed at him, backing away. Her scar was throbbing, and a shooting pain was being sent down her left arm.

Quirrell was walking backwards so that Voldemort could follow her. The monster in the man was smiling now. "How touching…" he hissed, "I always value bravery…Yes, your parents were brave…I killed your father first, but your mother need not have died…she was trying to protect you…but you knew that, didn't you?"

Holly couldn't stay there a moment longer, she would take her chances with the flames. Turning, she began to run, scrambling for the doorway were the black fire waited.

"Grab her! SEIZE HER! Now!"

A hand grabbed around Holly's wrist, and at once, a searing hot fire seemed to explode across Holly's chest, right were her scar was. It shot down her left arm and ached across her jaw. Quirrell knocked Holly to the ground, holding her neck with both hands. She was almost paralyzed by the pain, but she still hear Quirrell began to scream in agony.

"Master, I cannot hold her—my hands—my hands!" Quirrell dropped Holly as if she was the black flames behind her. He held his hands up to the light, and they looked as though they had been burned. Red welts were breaking out on them, and blisters were popping up too.

"Kill her fool, do it now!" Voldemort screamed.

Quirrell whipped out his wand, but before he could fire a curse, Holly grabbed his face. He screamed, but Holly held on for dear life, even as her scar was filling her with white, hot agony. Her heart felt like it might burst from her chest. The pain of it was like nothing she had felt before. Yet, she knew then that her only chance for survival was to keep Quirrell from using his wand. "KILL HER! KILL HER!" Voldemort's voice screamed, but Holly wouldn't let go. Quirrell seemed to sense this, though, and he flung her off him with all his might.

Holly hit the wall, and slid down it. The last thing she heard was her name being yelled by a familiar voice.