As the days passed, the exams crept even closer. Headmaster Dumbledore managed to catch up to Harry one day and revealed that he managed to pull a few strings with the Ministry about his dyslexia. Initially, he had approached the Hogwarts Board of Governors to rope in a Greek examiner who would be grading a dyslexic student's paper as they were more comfortable writing in Greek.

Unfortunately, one of the Board members, Lucius Malfoy, promptly shut it down. So, Dumbledore managed to go over the Board of Governors' heads and appealed straight to the Ministry. To be precise, he went to the Department of Magical Education. This pretty much ensured that the Board's hands were tied. As they talked, Dumbledore also made a curious comment about the weather. When Harry prodded further, he revealed that the wards around Hogwarts also help to keep the weather out. So it was odd that it had been raining for such a long time and within Hogwarts grounds.

Eager to solve another mystery, Harry wrote to Annabeth, though he had a bit of a suspicion. One morning, Hermione and Ron were busy revising in the Common Room when a pale Harry stumbled in. Noticing their friend's distress, Hermione got up and ushered him down between them. Ron whispered, "What's the matter, mate?"

Still in shock, the dark-haired boy put up a privacy charm that Katie had taught him. Harry murmured, "I just found out why the weather's been so wonky in the past few weeks. I was talking to Professor Dumbledore last week and he admitted that the wards around the castle normally keeps out the weather. Had a bit of a suspicion so I wrote to Beth. According to her, someone stole Lord Zeus' Lightning Bolt. Now my dream makes so much sense."

Hermione exclaimed, "What! Who did it!? When did it happen?! Wh-"

Ron clamped a hand over her mouth, "Blimey Hermione! Breathe, will you! Also, what dream, Harry?"

Harry shrugged, "No one knows who did it. He's accusing Poseidon, for some reason, though Poseidon is denying it. According to the Ancient Laws, Gods are forbidden from stealing each other's symbols of power. As for the dream bit, dreams are a pretty common occurrence for demigods and they can show the past or future. My dream showed a scene at a beach with an eagle fighting a horse. The eagle was screaming, 'Where is it? Where is it?'. I think the eagle was Zeus and the horse was Poseidon. The eagle and the horse are their sacred animals, how did I not see it before?"

Ron pat his back sympathetically, "So what's going to happen how? When the term ends, will you be able to go back to camp?"

Harry shrugged, "Maybe. I just have to pray that I don't get blasted out of the sky while on the flight. Look, there's nothing we can do now. Hopefully someone finds it and returns it to him. For now, let's concentrate on our exams then worry about the stone afterwards."

Before anyone knew it, exam week was upon them. Firstly, there was the practical segment, which went fairly alright in Harry's opinion. His favourite exam was DADA, where Quirrell had set up a course and each student had to send offensive spells at cardboard cut-outs of Death-Eaters and avoid hitting hostages.

They also had to complete the task in 30 seconds. Ron managed to hit seven Death-Eaters, but got a point knocked off for a stray Stunner grazing a hostage's elbow. Hermione only managed eight targets, and Quirrell noted that she took too long to decide what spell to use. Neville was actually doing decently until the eighth cut-out popped up and it appeared to resemble a tall woman with curly dark hair, thick eyebrows and long eyelashes. That was when the poor boy faltered and clammed up. When it was time for Harry to take his practical, he set a record, hitting all 10 Death-Eaters with no hostages harmed, all in the span of 15 seconds. His performance earned a nervous smile from Quirrell, and a stuttered congratulations.

Then came the written exams, and they were a little harder for the demigod. Unfortunately for him, the question papers were all in English, which did his dyslexic brain, zero favours. The first paper was Transfiguration and McGonagall informed him that Dumbledore tried to get separate question papers written in Greek. However, the Board of Governors were still smarting from Dumbledore's earlier decision to get a Greek examiner for him. So they blocked this move and were not budging on their stance.

Fortunately, Professor Flitwick came up with a solution. Harry would be placed in a different classroom with a different professor supervising, while appearing for the exam. Later on, Ravenclaw Prefect Penelope Clearwater was roped in to read the questions to him. Her own exams usually finished much earlier than his. As a Muggle-born, she was aware of conditions like dyslexia and was sympathetic, so she was willing to help him.

Finally, there was History of Magic serving as the final exam. After a painstaking couple of hours, Penelope finally read the last question to him and he dutifully wrote down the answer. After submitting the paper, he shook her hand and thanked her for her help. The girl was pretty gracious about the whole thing and wished him luck with his results. Before they parted ways, she knelt and whispered, "In my personal opinion, you did pretty well. I think it'll be a good result. Now you can go and enjoy the next few days in peace. I know that I definitely will."

A few days later, Harry made his way to the Great Hall for a small bite to eat. He sat and waited for Ron, Hermione and his other house-mates. Just then, Hedwig flew in with a small note in her talons. He opened it, and on it were the words, "It's time, Harry. I will be away on some business. I assume that you have learned of what is being guarded on the Third Floor. For the record, I have done what the Muggle folk call 'the old switcheroo'. The Philosopher's Stone in the corridor is fake. The real one is with me, and being returned to my friend Nicholas. It's up to you to keep up the ruse so as to not arouse suspicion from the Dark Lord. I need you to protect the item from him. Destroy the note after reading. I will try and return as soon as I can, should you need my help."

With a small Incendio, he burned the note and waited. A minute later, Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall, arguing as usual. She was still hung up on their recently concluded exams. The girl complained, "I'm sure I got question 10 wrong in Astronomy! Oh… I should have ensured that all of my answers were at least 6 feet long! Oh no! Oh no! I'm going to fail!"

A fed-up Ron snapped, "Come on! Quit lying to yourself! You say this every bloody time we have a test and then you come out and top the whole damn thing!"

Harry called out, "I hate to say it, Hermione. But Ron has a point. You're just worrying over nothing. Also, six feet more of parchment? Are you planning to keep all of our professors stuck grading your First-Year papers by the time you're in Seventh-Year. Take it from me, no professor is going to have the patience to grade insanely long essays. Beth learned that lesson the hard way, when she was nine. One answer was three pages long, and the professor put a massive line across two and a half pages. Told her that she wandered well off the point and he has no patience to read three pages worth of a single answer."

She sulked for a bit, and Ron asked Harry how his final exam was. After assuring them that his exam went well, he ushered them to sit next to him. He muttered, "Got a message from Dumbledore. He has some business in the Ministry. With him out of the castle, it gives You-Know-Who the perfect opportunity to strike."

The two looked alarmed and Hermione murmured, "We'll go tonight. Harry, do you think you can take him? I mean we're all just kids…"

He whispered back, "Hermione, I've been training to fight for my life, most of my life. I'll be okay. If you want, I can help train the two of you to fight as well."

Ron was puzzled, "But mate, we have our wands. Why would we need to use swords and other weapons?"

Harry glanced at his female companion, "Hermione?"

"I agree with Ron."

Harry turned to them and raised an eyebrow, "Okay, what if you were in a duel and you got disarmed? By your logic, you would have to run away or be dead."

Ron slumped, "Yeah, you have a point. I was just a little jealous that you've had to save our arses and we were pretty much useless against those monsters."

"Which is precisely why I wanted to train both of you. Judging by both of your responses, wizards don't rely on anything other than their wands. That kind of thinking will get you killed in the real world. The worst part is that the regular mortals won't be able to do a thing to help."

He stealthily took out one dagger, "This is made from Celestial Bronze. It is the only thing that will hurt or kill any monsters. Regular swords will just go through them without harming them."

With that, he sheathed the weapon before anyone could notice. Harry continued, "Anyway, we have to protect the stone from the Dark Lord."

That night, Ron and Hermione waited as Harry headed upstairs to fetch his Invisibility Cloak. He stealthily opened his trunk and took the cloak and a rucksack, when a voice interrupted him.

"Harry? Is that an invisibility cloak?"

He looked up to see Neville looking at him curiously. The demigod waved him off, "Yeah, I was just going to show it to Hermione. She hasn't seen it yet."

Neville sat up, "Mate, I'm not stupid. You're planning to sneak out, aren't you? You can't! What if you get caught? When Ron, Hermione and I were caught out of bounds, we lost 50 points each! I couldn't look the rest of our housemates in the eye for weeks. We're so close to beating Slytherin for the first time in seven years."

Then he got off the bed and raised his fists, shaking slightly. He stammered, "I-I'll fight you if I have to! I won't let you and the other two lose points for Gryffindor!"

Harry paused and had an idea, "Alright, Plan B… You're coming with us."

To be honest, Neville was not expecting that response. He backpedalled in surprise, "M-me? You want me to come with you guys?"

"I didn't stutter. So yes, you're coming with us. I have a feeling you could be of big help to us. Come on mate, time to prove that you're a real Gryffindor."

He led the trembling boy down the stairs, ensuring that both of them were quiet. When he re-joined Ron and Hermione, they raised a curious eyebrow at him. He just shrugged, "Trust me on this. I have a gut feeling that he'll be a big asset."

They were able to sneak out of the portrait, because the Fat Lady was gallivanting elsewhere. Luckily, the cloak was able to cover all four of them. There was a moment when they barely dodged Filch. Hermione even had to clamp Neville's mouth shut when Mrs. Norris crossed their path. Avoiding a couple of prefect patrols, they finally reached the corridor. Since Ron and Hermione had been there before, they led the way. The trio even filled in Neville, and his eyes nearly popped out of their skull.

They stopped outside an ordinary door, but could hear a harp playing inside. Hermione raised her wand and whispered, "Alohomora", and the lock clicked open. Before he opened the door, Harry looked at his three companions, "Last chance to back out. Do you still want to do this?"

Hermione huffed, "Don't be silly Harry! What kind of friends would we be if we abandoned you?"

Ron quipped, "She's right, mate."

Neville stammered, "I-I have spoken to my dad the other day and he asked about you. He was quite happy that we're friends because he was a firm ally of your dad's. Dad insisted that no matter what happens, Potters and Longbottoms always had each other's backs. I'm not going to abandon you, either."

Harry smiled gratefully and opened the door and closed it behind all four of them. As soon as they entered and Hermione shut the door, they took off the cloak and Harry folded it up. Inside, there was a massive three-headed dog, the size of a truck. Ron and Neville whimpered in fear. Fortunately, it was sleeping, due to an enchanted harp playing a Celestina Warbeck song.

However, Harry realized that the song was just winding down. So his hand crept into his rucksack and he pulled out a flute, a gift from Hagrid. He ordered the other three, "See if you can move its paw away from the trap door. I'll keep it distracted, the harp's about to stop playing."

Sure enough, it stopped, but Harry put the flute to his lips and began to play a soft mournful tune. Hermione's eyes widened, "Is that Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen! That's one of my favourite songs!"

He nodded and kept playing, while there was not a single peep from the Cerberus. The three of them successfully moved the dog's paw and one by one, dropped down the trap door. Harry slowly began moving to the open trap door and eventually stopped playing. He quietly hopped in and closed the door. Hanging on for a second, he let go and dropped like a stone. When he landed, it was on something pretty soft.

Harry called out, "Everyone okay?"

Ron called back, "Yeah! Good thing this plant thingy is here to break our fall!"

She shrieked, "That's a good thing! Do you even recognise this plant?!"

Neville's voice piped up, "This is Devil's Snare. A real nasty piece of work."

Harry quipped, "If we weren't in mortal danger, I'd be making a hentai joke right about now."

Ron and Neville were confused, but Hermione screeched, "Harry! Don't be crude! Now let me try to remember how to kill it."

Neville helpfully called out, "It likes dark and damp conditions!"

Harry hollered, "Come on! Light a fire!"

She yelled back in panic, "But there's no firewood!"

Visibly annoyed, Ron roared, "Bloody hell, woman! Are you or are you not a witch!"

Cowed, she took out her wand, "Close your eyes! LUMOS SOLEM MAXIMA!"

A bright light filled the room and the vines all recoiled. Now that they were relatively free, the quartet escaped the vines and scampered away. As they walked away through a passageway, Ron muttered, "And they call her the brightest witch of her generation. Can't think straight in a crisis. 'There's no firewood'. Honestly!"

Just then, they heard a curious sound. Neville whimpered, "W-what's that sound?"

Harry shrugged, "Sounds like wings to me. Look! There's a light up ahead at the end of the passageway!"

They hurried down the passage and were met with a curious sight. High up above them there were hundreds of bird-like things flying up above them. Harry groaned, "They had better not be the Stymphalian birds. Otherwise we're screwed."

Neville was lost, "Stympha-what?"

Harry waved him off, "Long story. Listen, we've got to make a run for it. Hopefully they won't attack us."

To their surprise, the flock above them did not move towards them. Ron suddenly blurted, "It's locked!"

Hermione tried the Alohomora charm, but it failed. Then Harry had a good look at the flock, "What a second, those are not birds. They're winged keys!"

Then he had a good look around the room before spying his target, a set of brooms propped up against the wall. He made a bee-line towards them, "I'll take care of this. What kind of key are we looking for?"

Hermione called out, "A big old-fashioned key! Preferably a silver one, so that it matches the door handle!"

He took off and ploughed into the flock. His keen eyes searched this way and that for the key. Unfortunately, after 10 minutes of searching, he came up fruitless. Harry glided back down and picked up his rucksack, "Whoever came before us covered their tracks well and must have taken the key with them. Okay, Plan B."

He fished out a lock-picking set, "Compliments from the Stoll brothers for my 8th birthday."

In two minutes, he had successfully picked the lock and opened the door. When they entered, the first thing they saw was a life-size chess board, complete with all the pieces. Ron looked like it was Christmas, Easter and his birthday, all at once. He rubbed his hands and gloated, "My time has come! Come on guys, we'll take the black pieces. Now we've got to take the places of some of the pieces."

Harry stopped him immediately, "Are you having a laugh! There is no way that I'm risking the lives of any one of you! Ron, you can direct the pieces from the side."

They argued back and forth, but eventually Ron gave in. What followed next was in intense battle between the white and the black pieces. The white pieces were especially brutal, obliterating the black pieces has they eliminated them. In the end, Ron managed to checkmate the white king by sacrificing his knight and allowing the bishop to take the king.

When the game ended, Ron's face was so pale that they could see his freckles. He whimpered, "Bloody hell! I'm glad you talked me out of putting ourselves on the board. That knight would've been me!"

Harry shrugged, "I told you so. Now hurry up, You-Know-Who could be closing in on the stone at any moment."

They hurried through the next passageway when a familiar pungent stench filled the air. Holding his nose, Harry turned to Ron, "You think you can do the same trick as last time?"

He fished out his wand, "I'll try."

Just as they were about to open the door, a familiar voice called out to them. It said, "Not to worry, Harry, Ron and Hermione. I have stunned the troll. The stone is fine, but to be on the safe side, we'll go together."

Hermione got excited, "Professor Dumbledore is here! Come on!"

Suddenly, Harry grabbed her hand and fiercely whispered, "Wait… Think about it for a second. Trolls are incredibly resistant to spells. There is no way that a stunner could down a troll, no matter how powerful Dumbledore is. Whoever is in that room, it's not Dumbledore. Additionally, he never mentioned Neville. I've got a bad feeling."

Harry debated with himself and then his reached for his waist, where his daggers were. He whipped them out, and Ron grabbed the door handle. The redhead wrenched it open and Harry charged, brandishing his weapons. As he suspected, there was a Cyclops waiting for him, with one foot resting on a dead troll's head. The one-eyed monster grinned and grabbed a nearby spiked club, "Well, well, well… It's my lucky day. First an unconscious troll, which I took care of. Now, I finally get to kill a demigod, and it is the Moon Goddess' child."

Neville momentarily got over his fear, "What's he talking about?"

The Cyclops brought down the club, intending to turn the pesky demigod into past. However, Harry dodged the strike and stabbed the monster in the calf. The monster roared in pain and Harry called out, "Hermione! Can you fill Neville in?! The gig's up anyway! I'd do it myself but I'm a little busy here!"

Harry ducked under another swipe, then stabbed the other calf. Then, he straddled the cyclops' back and stabbed him them. There were more roars of pain and rage. It began trying to grab the demigod with its meaty arms. Ron and Hermione tried to help by sending stinging hexes and stunners. Finally, a wild tripping jinx from Neville managed to send the cyclops on its back. This allowed Harry to straddle its chest and stab the monster in the throat. With one final roar, it crumpled and dissolved into dust.

Panting in exhaustion, Harry crumpled to his knees. His legs felt like jelly and he could barely move them. He gestured to his rucksack, "Hermione? Can you feed me some ambrosia? Just a small piece will do."

She started forward and rummaged through it. Finally, she pulled out a Tupperware box labelled 'Emergency Supplies'. As she fed him a piece she snorted, "The label is pretty apt. This definitely qualifies as an emergency."

Eventually, he was able to stand up, though he was a bit shaky. Ron and Neville got on either side and draped an arm over their shoulders. The timid boy asked, "You alright, Harry?"

He gave a single nod in reply and sheathed the daggers after cleaning them, "Yeah, I'm steadily getting my strength back. It's one of the perks of being a demigod, we can heal a little quicker. By the way, good job with the tripping jinx, Neville."

Neville flushed and mumbled, "It was nothing, really."

In the next room, there was nothing, except for a table with seven bottles of different shapes and sizes. When they fully entered the room, there was a small boom, which made Neville jump, and the room was surrounded by a huge sheet of purple fire. Hermione noticed a piece of parchment on the table and snatched it.

She read, "Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind. Two of us will help you, whichever one you find. One among us seven will let you move ahead. Another will transport the drinker back instead. Two among out number hold only nettle wine. Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line. Choose unless you wish to stay here forevermore. To help you with your choice, we give you these clues four. First however slyly the poison tries to hide, you will always find some on nettle wine's left side. Second, different are those who stand on either end. But if you would move onward, neither is your friend. Third as you see clearly, all are different in size. Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides. Fourth, the second left and second on the right, are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight."

The girl gushed, "This is brilliant! It's a logic puzzle, and a fair number of wizards don't have much logic. They would be stuck in here forever, but not us, not on my watch. Give me a minute."

She paced around the table, muttering away as she kept studying the parchment. Then, she clapped her hands, "I've got it! The smallest bottle with get us through the black flames and towards the Stone."

Unfortunately, Harry noticed a small problem, "Umm… There's only enough for one person. I'll have to go it alone. Which one takes us through the purple flames?"

She pointed to a round bottle at the other end of the line. Harry took out his Invisibility Cloak and ordered, "One of you drink it and try and go back and send a letter to Professor Dumbledore. You can use Hedwig if you want, and use the cloak to evade Filch and the patrols. The other two can wait for me here or wait for the bottle to replenish."

Suddenly, Hermione hugged him, "Oh Harry! Be careful! You-you're a great wizard, you know that right?"

He shrugged sheepishly, "You're far smarter than the three of us, no offence guys."

Ron and Neville spoke in unison, "None taken."

She scoffed, "Books and cleverness can only take me so far. I realise that now. It takes a lot more than that, friendship and bravery are far more important."

With a quick swallow, she downed the larger potion and he did the same with his own. Both shuddered simultaneously and he coughed, "Blimey! It's like ice is flooding through my body."

With a deep breath he stepped through the black flames. When he entered the room, the first thing he noticed was that he was not alone. Harry blurted, "Wow! I had a feeling it was you."

The turbaned professor finally took notice of the new occupant. He smirked, "You were? Well I suppose you are smarter than I thought. I had a feeling that you would be coming, Potter. Let me guess… You were expecting Severus? He does seem the type, always swooping around like an overgrown dungeon bat. So who would suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell."

Harry glowered at him, but Quirrell continued talking. He said, "You know, I tried to kill you during your first quidditch game. In a spot of oversight on my part, I forgot about your mutt of a godfather. Those Blacks were always a paranoid bunch. So I should have taken into account that he had added an Anti-Jinx charm to your broom. I had planned to off you during your second game, but the Headmaster was already onto me. But that won't matter now, since I will finally be able to kill you myself."

With a snap of his fingers, roped appeared out of nowhere and wrapped him up. It was so tight that he couldn't even access his daggers nor his rings. So, Harry switched into distraction mode and decided to keep Quirrell talking. He said, "Am I assuming that the troll on Halloween and the troll in the other room were your handiwork?"

There was no need to mention the hellhound or the cyclops. Nevertheless, Quirrell obliged him, "Of course it was! The first troll was a distraction, and I have a certain affinity for them. On Halloween, I was only too happy tom send the faculty on a wild goose chase. I would have gotten away with it if it were not for Severus and you meddling kids."

Deciding to annoy him, Harry quipped, "Didn't know you were a Scooby Doo fan, professor."

He snapped, "Enough of your insolence! Now sit quietly while I examine this interesting mirror."

That was when Harry realised that Quirrell was in front of the Mirror of Erised and grinned to himself. The DADA professor muttered to himself, "The mirror is the key to finding the stone. Trust Dumbledore to come up with a contraption like this. No matter, by the time he gets back, I will be far away."

Harry tried stalling again, "To be honest, I didn't really suspect Professor Snape. He and I have no beef with each other. I actually suspected that it was the Dark Lord himself."

Quirrell paused momentarily, "Truly, you are smarter than I thought."

Harry shrugged, or tried to, "Well, the Sorting Hat did say that I could have fit into any house. Gryffindor and Slytherin were the strongest candidates. However, he doubted that Slytherin would survive with me in it."

He chortled, "Of course you wouldn't survive in Slytherin, Potter!"

Harry didn't have the heart to correct him and say that Slytherin would not survive him, and not the other way round.

By then, the deranged professor was back to observing the mirror. He murmured, "I see the Stone… I'm presenting it to my master… but where is it? Is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"

Harry thought to himself, 'I'd love to see you break it and incur the wrath of Aphrodite and Nemesis.'

Suddenly, a chilling voice emanated, seemingly from Quirrell himself. It chanted, "Use the boy… Use the boy…"

Quirrell whirled around, "Potter! Come here!"

Harry shot him an 'are you serious' look. He deadpanned, "I'm a little tied up at the moment, you twit."

The professor scowled and loosed the ropes with a flick of his wand, "Enough of your cheek, you brat! Now, come to the mirror and tell me what you see?"

Harry dutifully obeyed and looked in the mirror. Surprisingly, it was blank except for himself. Just then, Aphrodite sauntered up to him and stood next to him. She winked and one hand reached into her glamourous dress, the other went up to her luscious red lips in a silence gesture. The hand fumbling through her dress came back out, and she was holding a red crystal-like stone. The Greek goddess of Beauty gently slipped the stone into his reflection's pocket. At the same time, Harry felt something slip in his own pocket.

Quirrell was losing his patience, "Well… I'm waiting…"

"I see my mum and dad. They are smiling and playing with me when I was a baby. N-now its changing… I'm shaking hands with Dumbledore, I've just won the House and Quidditch cups for Gryffindor."

The man growled and shoved him out of the way. Harry stumbled and slowly and stealthily tried to sneak away. Unfortunately, the disembodied voice spoke again, "The boy lies… He lies… Let me speak to him, face-to-face."

Quirrell blanched, "Master, you are not strong enough."

The voice snapped back, "I am strong enough for this."

Then, the older man began to unravel his turban. When he turned away from Harry, the boy had to fight down some bile rising up his throat. On the back of Quirrell's head was another face. This one was pasty white with glaring red eyes and slit-like nostrils. It was Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort snarled, "Harry Potter… See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor… I have form only when I can share another's body. There have been those who were willing hosts, and unicorn blood has sustained me for the past few weeks. My vessel, Quirrell, has been most faithful, and once I have the Elixir of Life, I can create a body of my own. With that said, give me the stone in your pocket!"

Harry backed off immediately, not wanting him to get his hands on it. Voldemort cackled, "Do not be foolish, boy! Better save your own life and join me. Refuse and you will meet the same end as your parents. They died begging me for mercy."

Harry immediately raised a hand, "I'm going to stop you there. That is the biggest load of dragon dung I have ever heard in my life. Besides, why would I willingly join the man who murdered my parents?"

He spat in Voldemort's face. An enraged Quirrell raised his wand, but Voldemort stopped him. He sneered, "How touching. Yes, I lied about them. I always valued bravery, and your parents were brave. I duelled your father first, and he was a worthy opponent. However, you mother needn't have died. The silly girl was trying to protect you, now give me the stone and prove that your mother did not die in vain."

Harry bellowed, "NEVER!", and backed away. Quirrell was faster and clamped a hand on his wrist. Then the strangest thing happened, the professor began howling in agony and let go of him, clutching his blistered hand. The demigod already had a good idea why this had happened. Voldemort was busy screeching, "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!"

Then Harry went of the offensive and grabbed Quirrell's face. The homicidal professor tried to backpedal away, but Harry had a vice-grip. After more struggles, Harry felt his strength draining, and soon fell unconscious.