CHAPTER 20: THE PHILOSOPHER'S GUARDIAN
As they reached the potions classroom, they waited outside while the other students filed in. Professor Snape's arrival signaled the start of the lesson. Daphne and Harry partnered up, while Tracy joined forces with Neville.
"At the end of the lesson," Snape announced, as he inspected the potions, "Miss Greengrass and Mr. Potter, another exceptional potion. Twenty points for Slytherin." He then glanced at Hermione's potion, but remained silent, much to her chagrin.
As Snape approached the trio, Ron whispered to Adrian, alerting them to his presence.
"Potter, Weasley," Snape critiqued their potion. "You should stir it five times counterclockwise, not three. The herbs should be added separately. Can't you follow instructions or do you simply not understand? Twenty points from Gryffindor."
The boys muttered under their breath as Snape moved on, leaving Hermione seething with frustration.
"I know I shouldn't relish her suffering, but I can't help it," Harry whispered to Daphne, who grinned in agreement.
"Same," she whispered back, sharing in his mischievous delight.
"Professor," Adrian and his companions intercepted Professor McGonagall. "We urgently need to speak with Professor Dumbledore."
McGonagall's response was brisk. "Professor Dumbledore is currently unavailable."
"But it's imperative!" Adrian persisted.
"Potter, as much as I admire your determination, I'm afraid I cannot conjure the headmaster at will. If you require his attention, you'll have to wait until his return," McGonagall stated firmly.
Adrian pressed on, urgency evident in his tone. "But Professor, we believe Snape is attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone!"
McGonagall's eyes narrowed with concern. "And how, may I ask, did you come by this information?"
Ron stepped forward, his words rushed. "We have reason to suspect Snape's intentions."
"Yes," Adrian chimed in, "please, Professor, we must speak with Dumbledore before Snape makes his move."
McGonagall's patience waned. "That's enough! Ten points from Gryffindor for disrespecting a professor. The Philosopher's Stone is adequately protected. Now, the three of you will return to your common room before I decide to assign detention."
Reluctantly, the trio obeyed, their hopes of immediate action dashed.
Once in the safety of their common room, Adrian rallied his companions. "Alright, we need to proceed tonight, down through the trapdoor."
Hermione voiced her concern. "But McGonagall explicitly told us to wait. We should trust Dumbledore's protections."
Adrian scoffed dismissively. "We can't afford to wait. Snape likely knows how to circumvent the traps. We must stop him, and then Dumbledore will reward us. Perhaps we'll even be allowed to keep the Stone."
Ron's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Imagine the glory and the riches!"
With their minds made up, any attempts to dissuade them proved futile.
That night, the trio braved the perilous journey through the trapdoor. Hermione's quick thinking saved them from the clutches of the Devil's Snare, and they narrowly avoided the hazards laid by Flitwick's keys. But as they progressed, disaster struck.
Adrian was flung aside by an unseen force, Ron fell unconscious during McGonagall's enchanted chessboard, and Hermione stayed behind to solve Snape's riddle.
Alone and undeterred, Adrian pressed on, fueled by his conviction of heroism and glory. Yet, as he ventured deeper, he was met not by Snape, but by Quirrell.
Confusion mingled with frustration as Adrian confronted the unexpected adversary. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"
"Quirrell?" Adrian's voice trembled as he addressed Professor Quirrell, but he was taken aback by the man's composed demeanor. Instead of the expected nervous wreck, Quirrell exuded an unsettling calmness, much to Adrian's annoyance. "What are you doing here? Where's Snape? Shouldn't he be attempting to steal the Stone?"
Quirrell's amusement was evident as he replied smoothly, without a trace of his usual stutter. "Ah, Snape. Yes, he fits the bill quite nicely, doesn't he? But who would suspect a... humble, stuttering Professor Quirrell?"
Adrian's confusion deepened. "But Snape tried to kill Harry!"
Quirrell's response was chilling. "No, my dear boy, I tried to kill your brother! And trust me, if Snape's cloak hadn't caught fire, I would have succeeded, even if he had muttered his little counter-curse."
Adrian's disbelief was palpable. "But why Harry?!"
Quirrell's eyes gleamed with a hint of madness. "He was a threat. I knew he would become one, especially after the troll incident."
Adrian's accusation was swift. "The troll? You let it in!"
Quirrell nodded approvingly. "Ah, sharp as ever, Potter. Yes, while the chaos unfolded in the dungeons, Snape intercepted me on the third-floor corridor. But what he fails to comprehend is that I am never truly alone." With a sinister glint, Quirrell turned towards the enchanted mirror. "Now, how do I retrieve the Stone?"
A sinister voice whispered from the depths of the mirror, urging action. "Use the boy."
"Come here, Potter!" Quirrell's command was sharp and demanding.
Adrian found himself compelled, his feet moving of their own accord, drawn towards the mirror. As he gazed into its depths, he saw a reflection of himself, surrounded by adoring fans, one of whom slipped something into his pocket—a realization dawned on Adrian. The Stone.
"Well, Potter," Quirrell demanded, "what do you see?!"
Adrian hesitated, fabricating a response. "Uh, my family," he lied, a pang of guilt tugging at his conscience as he realized how long it had been since he'd thought of them. If he survived this ordeal, he promised himself he'd visit them soon.
"He's lying," the voice from the mirror interjected.
Quirrell's patience wore thin. "Tell the truth! What do you see?!"
"Let me speak to him," the voice insisted.
Quirrell hesitated, then replied, "Master, you are not strong enough."
"I have enough power for this," the voice countered.
As Quirrell began to remove his turban, Adrian retreated, his heart pounding in his chest. The turban fell away, revealing a horrifying sight—a face nestled on the back of Quirrell's head.
"Adrian Potter," the face hissed.
"V... Voldemort!" Adrian's breath caught in his throat. "It... it can't be."
"Do you see what I've become?" Voldemort's voice dripped with contempt. "A mere parasite, forced to subsist off others. Unicorn blood sustained me, but to return to my full power, I require more, specifically that Stone in your possession." Adrian's shock was palpable; he hadn't realized Voldemort was aware of the Stone.
"You were the creature in the forest," Adrian deduced.
Voldemort's response was chilling. "Yes, indeed. It appears there's a glimmer of intelligence in that thick skull of yours after all."
"W... why did you target Harry?" Adrian's voice quivered with uncertainty, unsure of what action to take.
"He's your brother, isn't he?" Voldemort's tone oozed with malicious delight. "Ah, dear boy, your brother possesses more potential than you realize. A Slytherin, formidable, handsome, and astute, capable of seeing through the facade of Albus Dumbledore. He embodies all that I once was as a youth; I sense tremendous power within him. Your brother poses too great a threat for me to allow him to live, and I will retrieve him after dealing with you. Now, hand over the Stone!"
"No!" Adrian's newfound courage surged forth.
"Seize it!" Voldemort bellowed. Quirrell lunged at Adrian, intent on strangling him and seizing the Stone.
Adrian screamed and stumbled backward onto the stairs, the Stone tumbling from his pocket. Quirrell's hands closed in on Adrian's throat, poised to end his life, when they were halted.
Adrian and Quirrell gazed up in astonishment as a hand gripped Quirrell's arm. Their eyes rose further to behold a figure clad in black sneakers, jeans, gloves, and a gray hoodie. But what truly arrested their attention were the piercing yellow eyes and the black cloth veiling the lower half of the figure's face.
Adrian recognized him as the mysterious savior from the Forbidden Forest, the individual Harry likely knew. Quirrell realized him as the assailant from his office and the forest.
With a deft movement, the man released Quirrell before delivering a powerful backhand blow, sending him sprawling backward. Passing Adrian as if he were insignificant, the man addressed Quirrell.
"You!" Quirrell rose to his feet. "What are you doing here?" Adrian echoed the same question, bewildered by the newcomer's presence. Why was he here? Was it to rescue him? And how did he know to intervene?
"I'm here to stop you," the man declared in a calm voice. "I care not for the fate of Potter over there, but I won't permit you to obtain the Stone." A wand slid from the man's sleeve into his hand, which he aimed at the Stone and promptly obliterated.
"NO!" Quirrell shrieked, brandishing his wand and unleashing a curse at the man. The man countered with a shield, formed by his other wand held in his left hand.
"Yes," the man affirmed serenely, aiming both wands at Quirrell.
"Who are you?!" Quirrell's voice thundered. "Why does everyone keep asking that?" The man sighed wearily. "What's wrong with being nobody?" "Don't toy with us!" Voldemort demanded. "Who are you?" "Hmm," the man mused thoughtfully. "You can call me 'Consequence.' Yes, that suits me." "Very well, 'Consequence,'" Voldemort replied coldly. "Prepare to meet your end." "Avada Kedavra!" Quirrell bellowed, unleashing a deadly green bolt from his wand. Consequence swiftly sidestepped the curse, retaliating with precision. With his right wand, he cast a slicing curse, striking Quirrell on his left side, while his left wand conjured a bone-breaker, shattering Quirrell's right shoulder. A banishing spell followed, propelling Quirrell backward into the mirror behind him.
Quirrell crashed amidst shards of glass, his hands pierced by the sharp fragments. Struggling to rise, he acknowledged the grim reality; victory was slipping from his grasp. Bleeding from his left side and crippled by a broken shoulder, he found himself unable to even grasp his wand, the glass embedded in his hand rendering it useless.
"You!" a voice exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention to the entrance. Dumbledore and the other professors had arrived, wands at the ready, trained on both Consequence and Quirrell.
"You fool!" Voldemort's rage reverberated through Quirrell's mind.
"Master! No!" Quirrell cried out, collapsing to the ground. A dark, billowing cloud surged forth from his body, hurtling toward Consequence. Evading the onslaught, Consequence watched as the cloud ascended through the ceiling, disappearing into the night sky.
Dumbledore and the other professors maintained their defensive stance, their gazes fixed on Consequence. Dumbledore noted the presence of two wands in the man's hands, a rarity among wizards.
"Surrender yourself!" Dumbledore commanded sternly. "Lower your wands and submit to us."
"No," Consequence's response was resolute. "I will not."
"Enough of this!" Snape intervened sharply. "Stupefy!"
Consequence swiftly deflected Snape's Stunning Spell with a flick of his left wand, retaliating with a bolt of his own from the right, only to see Snape sidestep the attack. Sensing the urgency, the other professors joined in, weaving spells of their own. Consequence, undeterred, summoned twin shields with a flourish, effectively blocking the barrage of Stunning Spells. However, Dumbledore's expertise proved formidable as his Stunning Spell pierced through Consequence's defenses, pushing him back.
"Stupefy!" McGonagall's incantation rang out, her spell finding its mark on Consequence's chest, sending him reeling. The teachers hesitated, their anticipation quickly replaced by bewilderment as Consequence rose once more, seemingly unfazed by McGonagall's potent spell.
"Goodbye," Consequence declared, raising both wands. A blinding light erupted from one, while an ear-piercing noise emanated from the other, incapacitating the gathered faculty.
When they regained their senses, Consequence had vanished into the ether, leaving behind a perplexed assembly of professors.
Days later, amidst the farewell festivities, Harry and Daphne observed the exaggerated tales spun by Adrian and Ron, who regaled eager listeners with embellished accounts of their escapades. Tracy and Blaise kept their distance, sharing knowing glances at the spectacle unfolding.
"They're really milking it, aren't they?" Harry muttered to Daphne, his disdain palpable as he watched Adrian and Ron revel in their newfound notoriety.
Daphne nodded in agreement. "It's like watching a spectacle unfold before us."
Harry smirked. "I suppose Adrian could claim to have discovered the secret to eternal youth, and Ron would still believe him."
Daphne chuckled. "It wouldn't surprise me at this point."
As Dumbledore commenced his address, the atmosphere grew tense with anticipation. Slytherin's lead in the House Cup was acknowledged, followed by Dumbledore's announcement of additional points to be awarded.
"I sense trouble," Daphne murmured to Harry, her apprehension evident.
Dumbledore's distribution of points raised eyebrows, particularly when Hermione and Ron received commendations for their respective deeds. Harry's disbelief was palpable, his incredulity voiced aloud as Dumbledore's favoritism became increasingly apparent.
"I suppose next year they'll be awarding points for the most creative use of parchment," Harry remarked wryly, his frustration evident.
"And finally," Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Great Hall, "I award Mister Adrian Potter seventy points for exceptional nerve and bravery." The Gryffindor table erupted into a cacophony of cheers and applause, while Harry and Daphne exchanged bemused glances.
"And they bloody won again," Daphne sighed, her frustration evident.
"Exceptional nerve and bravery?" Harry muttered incredulously. "More like exceptional talent for spinning tall tales."
"Well," Dumbledore beamed, "if my calculations are correct..."
"Excuse me, Headmaster," Snape's voice cut through the murmurs, drawing all attention to him.
"Now, Severus..." Dumbledore attempted to interject, but Snape pressed on.
"Ten points," Snape announced, his tone cutting through the air, "to Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass for not being total and complete dunderheads." His words elicited a ripple of surprised murmurs throughout the hall. "I would also like to award Mister Potter and Miss Greengrass ten points for being brilliant students and a credit to their parents."
Dumbledore conceded with a nod. "Well, I believe Slytherin has won the House Cup."
"Uh... yes," Dumbledore continued, the declaration lacking the usual fervor. "The winners of the House Cup are Slytherin."
All eyes turned to Harry and Daphne, who felt a mix of embarrassment and pride wash over them. Rising to their feet, they addressed the assembled students.
"Thank you, Professor Snape," Daphne spoke first, her tone gracious yet tinged with surprise.
"And as for the rest of you," Harry's voice carried across the hall, "you're welcome."
Their words were met with cheers from the Slytherin table, while the Gryffindors muttered curses under their breath. Tracy and Blaise whooped from their seats at the other end of the table, sharing triumphant smiles with Harry and Daphne.
Harry caught the gaze of the Golden Trio, noticing the mixture of astonishment and begrudging respect in their eyes. As they returned to their seats, Harry and Daphne shared a knowing glance, acknowledging the unexpected turn of events.
After the festivities, Harry found himself greeted by a familiar group of redheads blocking his path.
"Hey there, Harry!" Ron's booming voice broke the silence.
"Good to see you, mate!" Fred clapped him on the back.
"Hey, Harry!" George chimed in.
"Hello, Harry," Percy greeted with a nod, a rare hint of warmth in his tone.
"Hi, Harry!" Ginny, the little red-haired girl, waved enthusiastically.
"Hello, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley greeted him warmly, her eyes twinkling with maternal affection.
"Hey, Harry!" Adrian's friendly nod joined the chorus of greetings.
"Hey, guys!" Harry responded with a wide grin, feeling a surge of warmth at the reunion. "Good to see you all again."
"We missed you at Hogwarts," Ron admitted with a grin.
"Yeah, things were a bit dull without you," Fred added with a smirk.
"We'll catch up later, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, ushering her brood away. "We've got to get home and start preparing for dinner."
"See you later, Harry!" the twins called out in unison as they followed their mother.
"Take care, Harry," Percy added before trailing after them.
"Bye, Harry!" Ginny waved enthusiastically before scampering off after her siblings.
"See you around, Harry," Adrian nodded before joining the others, leaving Harry with a sense of warmth and belonging amidst his newfound family.
As Harry watched the Weasley family depart, a surge of affection swelled within him for his friends and their warm, welcoming nature. Turning to make his own way home, he couldn't help but reflect on the profound bonds he had formed over the years at Hogwarts.
Yet, his reverie was abruptly interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's presence, her face now flushed a deep crimson. Harry's composed demeanor seemed to unnerve her more than his words.
"Harry, perhaps we should try to resolve this calmly," Dumbledore intervened, his soothing voice carrying a sense of wisdom and understanding.
"Professor Dumbledore, with all due respect, this is a matter between Mrs. Weasley and me," Harry asserted firmly, his gaze steady and unwavering.
"Harry, I understand your apprehension, but Mrs. Weasley's concern stems from a place of genuine care for your safety," Dumbledore explained in his characteristic gentle tone.
"Professor, I appreciate your concern, but I can assure you that I am perfectly capable of looking after myself," Harry responded, his composure undisturbed.
Mrs. Weasley, regaining some semblance of composure, spoke up with sincerity. "Harry, I apologize if I came on too strong. We only worry because you're like family to us, and we want to ensure you're well-protected."
"I understand, Mrs. Weasley, but I want to reassure you that I have taken necessary precautions for my safety," Harry replied, his tone softening with empathy. "While I value your concern, I prefer to handle things independently."
With a nod of understanding, Mrs. Weasley accepted Harry's words. "Very well, Harry. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Harry expressed his gratitude sincerely. "I truly appreciate it."
With a sense of relief, Harry continued on his way, leaving the tense encounter behind him. Reflecting on the exchange, he realized the importance of maintaining boundaries while still acknowledging the genuine concern of others.
As he journeyed home, Harry resolved to cherish the bonds he had forged with his friends and their families, recognizing them as pillars of strength and support in his life's journey.
As Harry vanished with the portkey, leaving behind a chorus of bewildered stares, he found himself contemplating the recent exchange with Mrs. Weasley. Had he handled it correctly? Could he have expressed himself more effectively without resorting to such assertiveness?
Upon landing at his destination, Harry resolved to review his actions with introspection. While he believed in standing up for himself, he acknowledged the need for balance between assertiveness and diplomacy. After all, he didn't wish to needlessly escalate tensions.
With determination, Harry committed to refining his communication skills. He recognized the importance of asserting himself confidently while preserving respect and civility, especially in the nuanced realm of wizarding conflicts. After all, words often held more power than spells.
As he set off towards his next destination, Harry made a mental note to seek counsel from trusted mentors and friends. He valued their insights and believed that their feedback would aid in his personal growth. With each experience, Harry aimed to evolve into a more adept communicator, capable of navigating the complexities of wizarding interactions with grace and poise.
With each step, Harry mulled over the nuances of his encounter, pondering the intricacies of communication and conflict resolution. He realized that assertiveness didn't have to equate to aggression and that diplomacy could be wielded with strength and conviction.
Arriving at his destination, Harry found solace in the tranquility of his surroundings. Amidst the quietude, he delved into a deep reflection, dissecting the exchange with Mrs. Weasley with a critical eye. He acknowledged his own emotions and the underlying concerns driving both parties' actions.
In the midst of his contemplation, Harry made a resolve. He would strive to find that delicate balance between assertiveness and empathy, understanding that effective communication required not only clarity of expression but also sensitivity to others' perspectives.
With newfound determination, Harry embarked on a journey of self-improvement, seeking guidance from mentors and friends who had traversed similar paths. He understood that growth was a continuous process, and he was committed to honing his skills as a communicator, both in the wizarding world and beyond.
Armed with introspection and a thirst for personal development, Harry set forth, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead with newfound resilience and confidence. He knew that while conflicts were inevitable, the way he navigated them would ultimately shape his journey and define his character.
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