Chapter summary: Alex/Harry faces Quirrell and Voldemort over the Philosopher's Stone
"You!" snapped Alex in anger, as Quirrell turned around in surprise. "Since I don't see anyone else in the room, I'm going to assume that my sister was right and that this Tom Riddle is possessing you. That would explain why you're wearing that ridiculous-looking turban. And I suppose she's also right in saying that Riddle and moldy Voldy are one and the same."
"How dare you insult the Dark Lord!" shouted Quirrell in anger. "And my turban is not ridiculous looking!"
"Yes it is. No Roma would ever wear something like that unless they were blind or something like that. We have better taste than that. Anyway, is Beth right about you being possessed?"
"Yes," spat Quirrell. "Though how she guessed that is beyond me. Too smart for her own good, I bet."
Alex hid any fear he felt upon hearing Beth's suspicions confirmed and said bravely, "She's much smarter than you, Quirrell. She'd never let the spirit of a prejudiced idiot who got defeated by a baby possess her. By the way, why are you doing all the speaking? Can't old Moldy-warts talk for himself?"
Quirrell was furious and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a high voice spoke. "Let me speak to the insolent boy myself... face to face."
"Master, you are not strong enough!" protested Quirrell
"I have strength enough… for this…"
Alex felt as if Devil's Snare was rooting him to the spot. He couldn't move a muscle as he stood there and wondered if his taunting had been a mistake. But was it his fault that he seemed to have inherited his biological mother's cheekiness, according to Remus? He watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. It fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.
Alex would have screamed, but he couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face he had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.
"Alexander Romanov…" it whispered.
Alex tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldn't move.
"See what I have become?" the face said. "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 strengthened me, these past weeks… faithful Quirrell 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… Now, won't you join me and help me get the Stone?"
"Never!" snapped Alex, a flood of courage spreading through his body. "I would never help someone who's the magical equivalent of Adolf Hitler!"
"Adolf Hitler?" asked Voldemort in surprise. "Oh, you mean that Muggle that was responsible for a war and the millions of deaths of other Muggles."
"Some of them weren't Muggles!" retorted Alex. "My grandparents, who are magical, survived, but their parents and siblings weren't so lucky! There were other Gypsies that were magical that died too, and I'm pretty sure some of the Jewish people that died were witches and wizards as well. You're just as bad as Hitler, wanting to get rid of Muggles and Muggleborns. You know, Hitler wanted the Aryan race, which pretty much meant those that were blond-haired and blue-eyed, in power, but he didn't fit that image at all, since he had dark hair. And there's the rumors that he might have been part-Jewish, the very race of people he wanted to destroy. Maybe you could be like him. You're going around preaching pureblood supremency, when you could be a hlafblood!"
There was silence for a full minute before Voldemort broke it. "Very clever of you. Yes, I am a halfblood. My mother was a witch descended from Salazar Slytherin, while my father was a filthy Muggle that abandoned her when he discovered that she was witch. But that is immaterial at the moment. Do you wish to help me or not? I could use someone like you. And your sister as well. If the two of you joined me, I would not harm your family in any way, so long as they promised to not stand against me."
Alex flinched. He certainly didn't want any of his family to be targets of Voldemort, but on the other hand, they would never become neutral, much less side with Voldemort. They would fight back, regardless of what happened. Even if that wasn't the case, Alex would never bring himself to side with someone that was, as he said, the magical equivalent of Hitler and had been responsible for the deaths of his biological parents and numerous others, including Muggles.
"I'd rather die than join you!" Alex spat.
"That can be arranged," snapped Voldemort. "SEIZE HIM!"
Alex sprang toward the flame door, butQuirrell's hand close on his wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Alex's scar; his head felt as though it was about to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might, and to his surprise, Quirrell let go of him.
The pain in his head lessened — he looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers — they were blistering before his eyes.
"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Alex clean off his feet landing on top of him, both hands around Alex's neck — his scar was almost blinding him with pain, yet he could see Quirrell howling in agony.
"Master, I cannot hold him — my hands — my hands!"
And Quirrell, though pinning Alex to the ground with his knees, let go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms — Alex could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.
"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort.
Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Alex, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face —
"AAAARGH!"
Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering, too, and then Alexknew: Quirrell couldn't touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain — his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse.
Alex jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Alex off — the pain in his head was building — he couldn't see — he could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Voldemort's yells of, "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" and other voices, maybe in his own head, crying, "Alex! Alex!"
He felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down… down… down…
When he came to, he found his mother and GrandmumLise bending over him, concerned looks on their faces. "You're awake!" exclaimed Ana, looking hugely relieved. "Alexander Jacob Romanov, don't you ever scare me like that again! What possessed you, to go haring after Quirrell and Voldemort with Beth and your friends? I nearly had a heart attack when Maria woke us all up with her vision. The whole family came here at once, but when we got here, it was too late to do prevent things. Thank Merlin Professor Dumbledore showed up about the same time we did."
"Professor McGonagall didn't believe us and Professors Snape and Dumbledore, who probably would have, weren't at Hogwarts at the time!" protested Alex.
"But you could have died, no matter what my prophecy said! Just because the first part came true is no guarantee that the rest will! You know perfectly well that the future depends on the actions of those in the present, Alex!"
"You could have died," said Grandmum Lise soberly. "In fact, you very nearly did. The effort involved in fighting of Quirrell nearly killed you. Your father and Professor Dumbledore arrived just in time to pull him off you. At that point, the spirit of Voldemort fled, and Quirrell died. You were brought up here to the Hospital Wing, and I imagine Madam Pomfrey is not at all happy with me at the moment. I informed her in no uncertain terms that I was going to take care of my grandson, regardless of how good a Mediwitch she was, and sent her out of the room."
"Where's the rest of the family?"
"Your aunts and uncles had to go to work," responded Ana. "You were unconcious for three days, Alex. They came back after work, however. Granny Ilsa left the apothecary in Remus's hands, who has also been here every evening to check up on you. She and your dad stepped just before you woke to get some food for us. Your grandfathers are with your cousins, and Beth just went to the bathroom. Ah, there she is now."
"Alex, you're awake!" exclaimed Beth, running over to his bedside. "Don't ever do something like that again without me! If I lost you, I don't think I could ever live without you!"
"Don't!" cried Alex, looking alarmed. "You're not going to break if something happened to me!"
"But you said yourself that you couldn't stand it if something happened to me! That's why you wouldn't let me go with you to face Voldemort. That, and there wasn't enough potion for two."
"All right, I get your point, Beth. I won't force you to leave me again."
"Good. Now tell me everything that happened before Dad and Professor Dumbledore got there."
Alex did so. Grandmum Lise's mouth thinned and her eyes flashed when she heard about the offer Voldemort made. "As if any of us would join someone that is no better than Hitler. I'm proud that you stood up to Voldemort, Alex, but insulting and goading him might not have been wise."
When the story was concluded, Ana said quietly, "You were very brave, Alex. I am very proud of you, but in the future, try to avoid situations like this until after Voldemort returns to power and you have to defeat him for good, all right? The same goes for you, Beth. I am very proud of your bravery and intelligence, but try to do the same as your brother."
"Yes, Mum," said Alex and Beth at the same time.
At this point, Stephen and Granny Ilsa came in, each bearing a tray of food and drink. They were very relieved and overjoyed to see that Alex was awake. Ana told them Alex's story, while Beth slipped out to tell their friends, cousins, and grandfathers the story and that Alex was awake.
By the time of the leaving feast, Alex had fully recovered and could leave the Hospital Wing. His relatives, minus his sister and their cousins attending Hogwarts, returned to their homes. Gryffindor had lost their final Quidditch match, against Ravenclaw, and had placed third in the running for the House Cup.
At the beginning of the feast, when the House Cup was to be awarded, Dumbledore made a surprising announcement. He awarded fifty points each to Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff due to the actions of Ivan, Vera, and Cara, and then to Gryffindor, awarded Neville, Hermione, Ron, and Beth forty points each and Alex fifty points. The end result was that Gryffindor placed first and won the House Cup, beating Slytherin for the first time in six years. Everyone, except for the Slytherins, celebrated Gryffindor winning.
The next day, the exam results were passed out. To his surprise, Alex found that he had actually done very well, and had the second-highest mark in Potions. Beth and Hermione had tied for the top students in their year, with the former doing slightly better in Potions while the latter did slightly better in Charms. Ron had done pretty well and Neville had decent marks, with Herbology (the one subject that he had done better than his friends in, which meant he had the highest mark of all the first years in it) his best. They had hoped that Goyle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might be thrown out, but he had passed, too. It was a shame, but as Ron said, you couldn't have everything in life.
And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bettie Bott's Every Flavour Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station.
It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles. Beth invited Hermione over to spend part of the summer, and the Grangers gave permission. After saying good-bye and promising to keep in touch, the quintet went home with their respective families.