CHAPTER 36

Current Time…

Harry read Quirrell's message three times before he shakingly went through three quick Occlumency exercises to calm his panic and rage into cool and functional rationality. Impulsiveness was not an option at this time. He quickly snatched up his wand and instantly sent three whispered silencing charms to the beds of Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle so that they wouldn't hear anything.

"Theo! Blaise! I need your help NOW!" The two boys jumped up at their friend's scream, quickly scrambling over to Harry's bed. Immediately, the parchment dinged again.

"I'm a busy man, Mr. Potter, so I'd appreciate a quick response. Lest I assume Miss Granger misled me as to how this parchment functions and I'm forced to interrogate her more… forcefully."

Harry gritted his teeth in quiet fury, took a deep breath, and replied: "I'm here. What do you want of me? And what have you done with Hermione?"

"Oh don't be so dramatic! She is fine… for now." Harry's hands shook at the implication while Theo and Blaise (reading over his shoulder) exchanged horrified glances. " All I did was some minor psychic manipulations of the mind-reading and Confunding variety. Though I will say Ms. Granger put up the greatest challenge of the four; her mind was the hardest to glean without being… obvious, but alas, it wasn't enough to keep me at bay. While you've done a consistently good job at avoiding eye contact with me, the Gryffindor boys haven't been nearly as diligent as you.

I successfully pieced together most of what I needed from their memories. I know you have long since deduced that I was behind the troll incident and your brother's subsequent Quidditch difficulties last semester. I know you have deduced that I am here at Hogwarts in order to acquire a certain object hidden on the Third Floor. And thanks to a particularly vivid memory from your brother, I know that you have interacted with a certain enchanted mirror and successfully escaped its clutches under your own power. That, and you have the most delightful streak of… wrath that lurks just beneath your surface. Regardless, I imagine your escape from the Mirror's devices was a result of you taking advantage of special characteristics imbued within the Mirror by the Headmaster that make it less dangerous for children than for adults. Regardless, I would like to engage your assistance in retrieving the object of my heart's desire from its current resting place which is, I believe, within said mirror."

Harry snorted before responding: "Why in Merlin's name would I ever help you that? " As he waited for the reply, he told his two friends to get dressed quickly, scrambling out of his pajamas into his well-loved jeans, a jumper, and a casual traveling robe to save time. Thinking quickly, he hissed at Selma to remain in her terrarium until he returned.

"Because I am presently in the same room with that mirror along with four little Gryffindors who thought they could sneak in and steal the Stone in order to 'save it' from the nasty old DADA instructor. Well, at least the two sensible ones. The two idiots apparently expected to find Severus Snape down here of all people! Idiots! I am, of course, speaking of Miss Granger and Messrs. Longbottom, Weasley and Potter Major. While your disdain for the latter two is well-known Potter Minor, so is your affinity for the first two."

Blaise shook his head while Harry quietly seethed at Quirrell's audacity. "Hermione and Neville would have never gone along with something as stupid as helping the Git and the Weasel steal the Stone." Harry agreed and sent that statement as a message. Quirrell quickly responded.

"Unlike the Albus Dumbledores of the world, I am not in the habit of leaving things to chance. I successfully ventured to the last room almost four weeks ago. But upon recognizing the Mirror from Potter Major's memories, I came to suspect the nature of the old man's trap. It took me months to learn the secret of dealing with that damned Cerberus without raising any alarm. That, and all the other things I had to contend with dealing with the Headmaster's rather ridiculous gauntlet. As I am sure you've already noted, I imagine Headmaster expected me to exhaust myself passing through the first rooms, then, in a pique of exhaustion and glutted on greed, plunge headfirst into the Mirror and become trapped by my 'heart's desire.' Ha! I should think not! Rather, I choose to invite you to join me here, Potter Minor, to see if you can recover the Stone for me. You've already proven your ability to gaze into the Mirror without being trapped, so it seems logical to assume you can penetrate the Stone's protections. To ensure your compliance, I devised a rather unique curse placed upon your friends' DADA quizzes; enough to lure them here tonight and ignore all the sensible warnings you gave them about the Third Floor. I'd intended to place one upon you, but you are clearly strong-willed with decent Occlumency shields, enough that you would detect my efforts. Unlike your friends, who again, are bound at my feet with the Incarcerous."

Harry read through that entire statement, blanching at the mention of 'unique curse' and imagining all sorts of horrible possibilities. A few beats passed before Harry realized that Quirrell had said he'd breached the room almost a month ago!

"Hang on, you breached the room four weeks ago? How? I… I would have been made aware if that were true."

"I assume you're referring to that Snake-Eyes ward placed on the frame of the painting of Sir Isaac Newton pondering the fallen apple." Harry froze. "A most clever application of a rather obscure alarm ward, far beyond the capabilities of a first year snakeling, even one as clever as you. I imagine either Professor Snape or Professor Evans cast that spell, since that's definitely not Dumbledore's style. Thankfully, an old friend of mine taught me about that particular bit of magic many years ago, so I was able to overcome it without any detection.

Now enough of that. I await you at the end of Dumbledore's gauntlet, where you'll find most of his traps already deactivated. Those remaining should be no problem for such a clever young serpent as you. Tell no one , and come alone. You have twenty minutes before your little friends suffer the misfortune of your tardiness. It's simple math really! Four Gryffindors equals forty fingers and forty toes before I move on to the larger extremities. Your time starts – NOW!"

Harry cursed viciously, enough to make Theo cough and blush at the vivacity of the colorful language. Tapping the parchment five times to lock in the writing on it before it reset, Harry handed the parchment to Theo. "Get that to my mother and Snape immediately. Both of you. Make sure he understands that Quirrell has hostages and is willing to torture them."

"No," said Theo quickly.

"Theo..." Harry replied with a slight threat in his voice.

"No, shut up! You're not going to face him alone! It's not happening, and you don't have time to argue with me about it, so just accept the reality that I'm coming with you!"

Theo handed the parchment off to Blaise, who just looked back and forth between the parchment and his friends before holding the paper out to Harry, who had fastened his wand holster and was pulling on his jumper sleeve to conceal it. "What he said."

Harry glared fiercely at his two friends before hissing in fury. "It's like being surrounded by fucking Gryffindors!" He snatched the paper out of Blaise's hand and bolted out the door, Theo and Blaise hot on his heels. In a record fifteen seconds he was inside the Lair, where he found Olivia and Rodney poring over the auto-updating NEWT text, surrounded by piles of homework parchment. They both looked up at him in surprise.

"No time to explain!" Harry said breathlessly. He handed the parchment to Olivia. "Get this to Professor Snape or Professor Evans as quickly as you can. If neither of them can be found, take it to McGonagall or Flitwick. Lives are at stake!" Without waiting for a response, he and his friends turned and ran out again, hoping the two prefects would take them seriously.

Exchanging a severe glance, Olivia and Rodney read over the parchment, expressions growing more grim in equal measure.

In a flash Olivia whipped out her wand - thirteen inch pine with dragon heartstring - and nonverbally cast three Patronus Charms in quick succession as Rodney gawked at the incredible display of her power. Three glowing cheetahs appeared, and she instructed the first two to deliver Harry's message to Professors Snape and Flitwick, adding that they should inform Aurors of Quirrell's kidnapping and threats of using an Unforgivable against four minors. The two respective cheetahs sped off to deliver their messages.

For the third, she instructed it to go directly to Lily Evans and inform her that her sons were in grave and immediate danger of being harmed by Professor Quirrell, and that she could come to the Slytherin Common Room immediately so Olivia could take her directly to the Third Floor corridor. The cheetah sped off. With a sharp lasso of her wand, the piles of hers and Rodney's study notes self-organized, then neatly packed themselves into their respective bookbags. With a sweeping arch of her wand, and the bookbags slung themselves over hers and a still gawking Rodney's shoulders.

"Olivia, what in Merlin's na-"

"Not now Rodney. Lives are in danger." Ignoring his indignant sputtering, she grabbed his arm and all but dragged him out of the Lair. She instructed him to drop his bookbag in his room and to meet her in the Common Room, expression unyielding. Straightening his spine, Rodney nodded and quickly followed her instructions. A minute later, the two prefects entered the Common Room, with Rodney agreeing to stand guard and watch over Slytherin House until the entire situation was resolved. There were very few students littering about, most studying for Finals in the library or catching up on much-needed sleep.

As one, the two Prefects sat and waited.

Four minutes later, the Sytherin Trio found themselves in the Third Floor corridor. Harry had spent forty precious seconds of those four minutes to make sure Matilda was alright. The green snake was perfectly fine, though a bit despondent that she'd failed to inform Lily about Quirrell's trespassing. Harry ensured her that it was alright and they were just glad she was ok.

Making their way into the Cerberus' room, Harry looked at his friends once again while bringing his breath back to normal. "You really don't have to do this. It's dangerous and reckless. He just wants me."

"You're wasting time Harry," said Theo. "Neville and Hermione are my friends, and they're in trouble. So I'm there for them. Just like I'm there for you."

Harry's face flushed in irritation (though he felt a flash of pride) at having his own words used against him, especially by the boy who had once been so timid and who'd claimed that he wasn't any good at "all this kindness stuff." Harry turned and cast Alohomora on the door, all three immediately entering when the door clicked open. Inside, they looked around in the gloom. The Cerberus appeared to be asleep, though in the case of a bloody hellhound, Harry wasn't willing to rely on just appearances. Off in a nearby corner, Blaise noticed a golden harp lying on the floor. Harry took a step forward, and the floor creaked. Instantly, the right eye on Fluffy's middle head flicked open, and the creature started to stir. Harry and Theo froze in terror, but Blaise simply pointed his wand at the harp and calmly said " MUSICA – BRAHMS LULLABY." Instantly, the harp floated up into the air and started playing a soothing tune. The Cerberus quickly drifted off back to sleep.

"How did you know music would put Fluffy to sleep?" asked Theo curiously, as the trio edged around the hellhound towards the trap door behind him.

"I didn't. I walked into a room with a sleeping Cerberus that five people have somehow already gotten past, and I noticed a magic harp in the corner looking obviously out of place. Two plus two equals four."

Harry and Theo nodded at his impeccable Slytherin logic. The trap door was still open, and they could make out a faint bluish light from below. "Now what?" asked Blaise.

"Now, you two lower me with the Levitation Charm," said Theo. Harry started to say something but Theo cut him off. "I'm lighter than either of you, and you're both better with the Charm than me. This way, you can lower me slowly and at a controlled rate, I can check out the room safely, and you can pull me right back up if there's any danger."

Harry reluctantly agreed. "This should be Sprout's room, so you're looking for dangerous plants. Probably the man-eating kind." Harry snorted contemptuously while Theo nodded and fired off a Lumos with his wand. Together, Harry and Blaise cast the Levitation Charm on him and slowly lowered him into the room. After about five seconds, he called back up. "Definitely plants. Looks like some sort of thick moving vines at the edges of the room. There's a circle of Bluebell Flames keeping them at bay and then a path leading to the door. We'll need to hurry though – the flames look to be dying out."

With that, the other two lowered Theo all the way to the floor, and then, they all took turns levitating each other. By the time Harry touched down, one of the more aggressive vines had slithered past the openings in the circle of flames in the direction of Theo's foot. Harry saw it and instinctively said "Back off! " The vines instantly withdrew, and the other two boys stared at Harry in surprise.

"Parseltongue works on killer vines?" said Blaise in surprise.

"Yes, it does. The nature of the language ensures that anything remotely snakelike is susceptible." Internally, Harry thanked Severus' seemingly random Christmas presents: one text titled Herpetology for Herbology, a muggle text titled Chess for Beginners, a rather simple household charm specifically for key duplication, and a basic Second Year-level potions charm for ingredient extraction, typically used to breakdown already-made potions to identify their respective components. Now going through this gauntlet, Harry realized that his mentor had subtly provided him clues for what it might entail should he bear the misfortune of having to traverse it.

The next room was a large empty chamber. On the far side was a heavy wooden door that appeared to have hundreds of quivering metal keys forcefully embedded into it. As the boys drew nearer, they saw that each key had a set of wings that was fluttering uselessly. To the side of the door was a rack of brooms with one empty slot. Blaise tried the door, but it was locked and resistant to the Alohomora spell he tried. Harry looked around speculatively.

"So, a big room with a high ceiling. Winged keys. And brooms. Obviously, the keys were airborne and you had to fly after them with a broom until you found the right one ... at which point the rest of the keys became hostile and attacked. Someone – probably Jim – got the key, threw it to someone on the ground who opened the door, and then the Git flew through ..." Harry looked towards the door and the twitching keys imbedded in it. "Which means the key is on the other side! Bugger!" he finished angrily.

Blaise knelt and examined the door. "Yep. I can see the key still in the lock." The three boys stood around for a few seconds, before Harry snapped his fingers as an idea struck him.

"SERPENSORTIA! " He concentrated on the kind of snake he wanted summoned, and soon a very tiny garden snake appeared. Harry hissed out a series of instructions, and all three boys watched as the tiny little snake slithered up on the door and right into a keyhole. Thinking fast, Blaise pulled out a piece of parchment from his pockets and slid it under the door, and soon enough, there was a clink as the key fell out of the lock and onto the parchment. Then, he pulled the parchment back underneath the door with the key resting on top. The snake returned and Harry thanked it for its help before Vanishing it.

"That was brilliant mates!" exclaimed Theo, staring at both boys in amazement.

"Why thank you Theo," said Harry cheekily. Turning to a smirking Blaise, he asked "Let me guess, Scooby-Doo?" Blaise laughed.

"Yes Harry, Scooby-Doo. I see you learned a thing or to yourself." Nodding in acquiescence, Harry gestured for Blaise to unlock the door, which he did.

The next room was equally large but with a much lower ceiling. There was a gigantic chessboard covered in huge – and mostly broken – pieces.

"A chess game," said Harry. "But of course."

"Well it's a good thing these didn't reset when the Gryffs made it through," said Theo. "There's no way we'd be able to play a chess game in the amount of time we have left."

As they made their way through the rubble of the chessboard, Blaise spoke out with feigned casualness. "So, we've been through a Herbology trap, a Seeker's trap, and now a Chess Prodigy's trap. Anyone else sensing a pattern?" Theo's eyebrows shot up as he considered the significance of what Blaise said. Harry just looked grim.

The next room contained an unconscious troll which they passed quickly. The one after that was a small room with a table situated in an alcove. As soon as the three passed inside, purple flames arose from the archway they'd entered from and black ones from the one up ahead. On the table was a row of potion vials and a parchment containing what appeared to be a riddle which Harry started reading aloud.

"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, Two of us will help you, whichever you would find... BLOODY BUGGERING HELL! " He glanced at his watch. They had less than three minutes. "We won't get finished reading this thing in three minutes, let alone solve it!" Internally, Harry didn't think they'd have enough time for him to cast the ingredient-separating charm on each vial, since the spell took anywhere between thirty seconds to five whole minutes , depending on the potion's complexity.

"Then, we'll do it the Slytherin way," said Theo as he started emptying his pockets onto the table. Out of the pile he'd made, the boy picked up a small leather case that could fit in the palm of his hand. Opening it, he removed what appeared to be a monocle on a brass chain. He breathed on it softly which immediately caused the clear lens to tint itself amber. Then, he slowly started moving it across the potions.

"Another gift from Alex?" asked Harry.

"Yes. It detects poisons, dangerous potions, and other potentially harmful things that might be added to food or drink. Just the thing if all your meals are provided by a filicidal monster."

"Fili-what?" asked Blaise.

"Filicidal. It means someone who wants to kill his or her own children." Theo glanced up at the other two who seemed doubtful. "It's a real word. I looked it up. Anyway, these three are poisonous," he said pointing out different vials, "while these two are non-poisonous but have a fairly high alcohol content. My guess is elf wine or nettle wine. Now, if we plug that additional information into the logic puzzle..." he thought for a moment, "that means this potion lets you go forward and this one lets you go back."

"Great job, Theo," said Harry. "Okay, here's the plan. We dump out one of the vials of nettle wine, and I'll use the Gemino Charm to duplicate enough of the backwards potion for both of you to leave and make sure help is coming. I'll distract Quirrell until you get back."

"Hmm, that is one option," said Blaise as he tapped his chin. "Oh! Here's another! We dump out two vials of nettle wine, and you use the Gemino Charm to make enough of the forwards potion for all of us."

Harry sighed in frustration. "You can't go with me I'm afraid. Quirrell said to come alone."

Theo raised his hand to show off his family ring. "I don't know if I ever mentioned it since you haven't done anything crazy enough to need it in a while, but this ring can confer a Notice-Me-Not effect on multiple people if they all maintain physical contact and can all hold their breathe long enough. You can go in and distract him while we creep in behind you and set up a sneak attack."

"No, it's too dangerous-"

"It's just Quirrell! Honestly Harry it can't be that hard! If we can get at him from behind, we can-"

"It's the Dark Lord," interrupted Harry, his voice deadpan.

"What?" said Blaise dully. "I'm sorry, WHAT?!" Theo just stood still, speechless and horrified.

"Quirrell is being possessed by the Dark Lord, presumably some leftover spirit remnant that lingered after he got himself blown up by Brother Dearest. He wants the Philosopher's Stone to make enough Elixir to create a new physical body for himself. And when he realizes that the Stone's a fake , he's going to start killing everybody. That is, unless I go in and stall him until help arrives."

"And why precisely are we finding this out now," hissed Blaise as he grabbed Harry's arm to look at his watch, "with less than a minute and a half to go?!" He shook Harry slightly, causing his friend's head to lightly rattle.

"Because this entire bloody situation wasn't supposed to happen in the first place! None of us were meant to be chasing after that madman! And yes, while I know the two of you are presumably well-equipped in Occlumency, I didn't want to risk either of you coming to harm because the psycho found some obscure means to read your minds and steal away your secrets!" Harry furiously rubbed at his face in frustration as Blaise looked decidedly more mollified.

"So you figured out Theo and I are Occlumens?" asked Blaise, staring at Harry curiously. The younger Potter gave him a 'don't be stupid' look.

"Obviously. Pathways of the Mind as my Christmas present from you, and well… filicidal father for him," said Harry sarcastically. Theo snorted in response.

"Well, while your concern is very much appreciated, you can be rest assured that we are more than capable of going in with you to help stave off the Dark Lord's… ghost. We won't let you go at it alone, so you can just drop that bravado nonsense right now. We're going with you, and that's the end of that." Harry started at Blaise's bluntness, but the boy was resolute.

"What he said." Theo was just as blunt as Blaise, leaving Harry to stare at the two boys in equal parts gratitude for their support and frustration for their pigheadedness. A few seconds later, Harry nodded in agreement.

"Alright, let's do this."

After a lengthy interval, Quirrell opened his eyes and checked his pocket watch again. "Hmm, it seems Mr. Potter is more Slytherin than I thought," he said, tapping a thoughtful finger against his chin. With feigned casualness he stood, banishing the chair as he moved towards the bound children. "Or perhaps simply not as clever. So how should I motivate him, I wonder?" He tilted his head in mocking concern. "As I understand it, Potter Minor cares very little for his brother and even less for his Pet Weasley." Both Ron and Jim bristled at that statement. Smirking, Quirrell turned and leveled a most sinister smile at Neville and Hermione. "That leaves you, Miss Granger, and you, Mr. Longbottom." With a flick of his wand, he removed the gags from the four children. "Now, who wants to scream for me?!"

Before any of the frightened Gryffindors could respond, a commanding voice cried out from the staircase that led down into the room. "QUIRRELL! I'm here. You can stop acting like a ridiculous villain from some Muggle comic book!"

Quirrell whirled about to face Harry Potter in surprise, as did the four bound Gryffindors.

"Mr. Potter! And just in the nick of time!" said Quirrell confidently.

"Yes, I heard your evil gloating as I was coming down the stairs. Very very spooky." Quirrell glowered at the boy;s contemptuous statement. For Harry's part, he was entirely grateful for his burgeoning Occlumency, else he would have succumbed to a panic attack at the sight of seeing friends, brother, and said brother's minion tied up like turkeys at the psychotic Professor's feet. Taking another deep breath and sinking into a further Occluded state, Harry felt the same confidence he'd projected in the Lair when dealing with Draco and his goons settle over him.

"Tell me, Professor Quirrell," he continued calmly, hoping to keep the man's attention on him. "It's just us now, so we can forgo the theatrics and just be honest with one another. What in Merlin's name happened to you? All the upper year students I spoke to remember you very fondly. A kind and intelligent man who obtained a Mastery in DADA, one of the youngest to ever do so! Respected and appreciated by his students and peers alike. Now… you're strutting about like an insane villain who threatens to torture children to get your way!"

Quirrell regarded Harry rather curiously, his expression startlingly blank. "I left Hogwarts without my purpose, and I returned to have my purpose granted to me. It is my master's will, therefore, I shall ensure that it will be done." Harry felt deeply perturbed by the change in the man's countenance. This was nothing like the insane madman who'd just threatened to use Cruciatus against four minors. He was too cold…too… vacant . Something was terribly awry.

"Your master's will?" he asked. Quirrell regarded him once more with the same blank stone-like expression.

"Yes, my master's will. There is no good or evil. Solum Potentia Harry Potter, that is the only way."

"...Only power. Power and those too weak to understand it. Yes, I am familiar with that quotation. It was in Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and was first attributed to the Dark Lord Emeric who ravaged Britain in the 14th Century. And yet somehow, Emeric's words didn't stop people from calling him Emeric the Evil." Harry snorted almost contemptuously at Quirrell. "It's kind of funny, actually, that your master patterned himself on one of the few Gryffindors who became a dark lord." Harry sneered rudely. "That actually explains a lot of his bad habits. Incidentally, did your master ever mention to you that those exact words were part of Emeric's final statement just moments before his execution?" He smiled condescendingly as Quirrell's expression became frightfully enraged, his brown eyes darkening to take on a disturbingly rat-like gleam.

"You… are decidedly well-informed Potter Minor." He smiled with all his teeth, which looked entirely too sharp in the low light of the room. "But do mind your attitude." He snarled the last words, with Harry realizing that he'd somehow offended the nut! But before he could think about that bit of strangeness, Quirrell spat at him to come towards the Mirror. With an internal grimace, Harry made his way over, hoping he could resist its power long enough to feed Quirrell and "master" reasonably occupied, until capable grownups showed up. Unless no grownups showed up ... in which case he and all his friends would die and he would make a point of haunting Olivia Kolumbiko and Rodney Montague for the rest of their lives.

But as he moved next to Quirrell and looked into the cursed Mirror, Harry was surprised to see that the image was not he was expecting. His heart's desire no longer reflected him , his mother, and his mentors reunited with his father and brother in a happy and loving Potter family. Rather, the image was a reflection of his current self sitting comfortably on the Hydra Throne which now recognized him as Prince! The mirror version of Harry looked down at the real version with regal confidence ... that suddenly broke into a mischievous smirk. Then, Delilah, whose head had been outside of the Mirror's frame, twisted into view with a large red crystalline stone in her mouth. She dropped the stone into Mirror-Harry's waiting hand and hissed a coquettish laugh as Mirror-Harry scratched her under chin appreciatively. Mirror-Harry slipped the Philosopher's Stone into his trouser pocket and winked ... and Real-Harry's own trouser pocket suddenly bulged as new weight was added to it, causing his eyes to bulge.

'They hid the Stone in the Mirror in such a way that only someone who didn't actually want to possess it could draw it back out again," he thought in wonder. 'And it never occurred to them that Quirrell might force an unwilling hostage to help him?! Bloody buggering hell! '

Quirrell must have noticed Harry's response. "What is it, Potter? What do you see?" he asked angrily. Cursing at his brief lapse, Harry charged on as best as he could.

"Well… um… I see myself. Dumbledore is shaking hands with me. I've won the House Cup for Slytherin House." He cringed internally, shocked at his subpar lie. He could usually lie so much better than that when the situation called for it. But he was so startled to have the object of Quirrell's desire suddenly dumped into his pocket that he froze and simply couldn't come up with anything convincing. He wasn't the only one who noticed.

"You're lying to me Potter!" Quirrell's expression was furious, and his eyes were practically burning in rage.

'Oh well, it was worth a try ,' thought Harry. Then, in a fluid motion, he popped out his wand, whirled it towards Quirrell's head, and yelled "SONOROUS! " as loudly as he could, making sure to emphasize the first syllable like Sirius had explained during Christmas, when the man had been describing one of his more infamous Marauder pranks that had earned him a week of detention with Madam Pince. A high-pitched screech erupted, causing Quirrell to double over in agony as the bound Gryffindors winced in pain. Harry quickly backed his way towards the stairs, hoping he'd make it in time.

"ENOUGH! " With a powerful roar Quirrell wandlessly (and nonverbally) dispelled Harry's spell. With almost superhuman speed, Quirrell sent a wandless Banishing Charm in Harry's direction, impacting him with such force that he twisted around in midair and painfully landed on his face. With a snap of his fingers, Quirrell summoned a barrier of roiling red and orange flames at the top of the stairs, blocking Harry's escape (and anyone else's entrance).

"Pitiful child! Did you really think you could strike me down with a weak attack like that?!" He laughed cruelly. "Pathetic!"

Slowly, Harry rose with his back to the older wizard. He would need to be absolutely calm for his plan to work. "No," he coughed. "I really just wanted to make sure that you knew I could cast the Glass-Shattering Curse." As he spoke, he whirled around to face his enemy with his wand in one hand, its tip resting against the (fake) Philosopher's Stone that he held in the other. "Now, Professor, I believe you said earlier that it was time we had a chat. So ... let's chat. Otherwise, I shatter the Philosopher's Stone into a million pieces."

"You insolent BRAT!" screamed Quirrell. "Give me that Stone or I swear you and your friends will die in AGONY!

"Oh will you SHUT UP already!" yelled Harry right back. "Bloody hell you are annoying! You have nothing to offer me now except threats to kill us all, and since you were going to kill us all anyway, those don't frighten me." Harry snickered contemptuously, eldritch eyes glinting maliciously. "Besides, as a famous Muggle by the name of Winston Churchill once said: 'Never talk with a monkey when the organ-grinder is in the room.' So I suggest you let your master speak henceforth." He gestured threateningly at the Stone with his wand, the implication very clear.

Quirrell froze and stared, before slowly smiling with all his teeth. "Oh dearest Potter Minor," he said, his voice considerably raspier and deadlier. "What makes you think I wasn't speaking all along?"

And with that, he threw his head back and laughed a fiendish chi-chi-chi-chi, the sound like a hundred hellish chittering rat squeaks layered and warped into one. With an agonized scream, the professor's head flung back violently as the bones in his body shifted in a series of grotesque cracks and pops, his body growing taller and more hulking. His head slowly straightened with a sickened click, revealing a horrifically marred face that seemed to twist between hideous human and monstrous rat. His long brown hair had fallen out in clumps, save a few slight strands. Formerly brown eyes were now a gleaming black, paired with a smaller nose that twitched imperceptibly. Harry swallowed down his bile at the heinous sight as he heard Hermione and Ron scream in absolute terror. Neville and Jim were rendered speechless in disgusted horror.

"Do…you see…what I've become …Potter?" The voice was harsh and grating with an unnatural squeak that made it sound all the more terrifying.

"Were you expecting my sympathies?! Ha!" Harry snorted, though he refused to make eye contact with the monster. "The current state of your form is none of my concern, thank you very much. Besides, I was not the one who slayed you after all." He slowly turned to Jim and sneered, pleased when Dark-Quirrell mimicked his movement.

"Indeed… you are not… the architect of… my demise." Dark-Quirrell's expression was venomous as burning black eyes bored through Jim Potter's skull.

"Indeed, I am not." Thinking fast on how to keep the man distracted, Harry was struck with a plan. "I am a cunning Slytherin, and vengeance against those who have wronged me is a concept I am most versed in. What say... I let you have your vengeance against Jim Potter? You will be free to smite your enemy, so long as you give me a few…assurances."

"Harry, you can't!" cried Hermione.

"Harry NO! What are you thinking?!" exclaimed Neville.

"I always knew you were a dark scumbag wizard, you snake!" yelled Jim, fighting back tears at the thought of his own brother betraying him.

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes at Jim's idiocy. "Excuse me, will all the Gryffindors – especially Jim – kindly shut up! The adults are speaking now." Then, he turned his attention back to Dark-Quirrell and focused on his chest, so he wouldn't risk being legilimized if he stared into his eyes.

"Very…interesting Potter Minor…it seems that blood…does not bind you to your brother as I…presumed." Dark-Quirrell sounded genuinely intrigued, though Harry was not moved to stare into his eyes. "What…assurances… would you require?"

"Why did you attack Godric's Hollow on Halloween of 1981?" Harry asked bluntly.

Dark-Quirrell hesitated. "Why would the answer… to that question… constitute ... assurance?"

"Because you don't strike me as the type to leave witnesses in a murder-attempt. You went through great lengths to try to kill my brother, and I imagine had you succeeded you would've killed me next. You merely Stunned my parents as well, which also doesn't make sense considering they - mostly my mother - are competent adults skilled in lethal magic who may take umbrage to their children being murdered. I want your word that should I let you eviscerate Jim here, you'll leave me and my mother out of it. You are of course, welcome to eviscerate Lord Potter in kind." Jim squawked in disbelieving anger while the other three Gryffindors stared in horrified disbelief at Harry's seemingly ruthless cruelty.

"Chi-chi-chi-chi! Oh Potter Minor…you are an… unexpected delight!" Dark-Quirrell laughed that horrified rat-like cackle once more. "Very well…there was… a prophecy …"

"What? What prophecy?" asked Jim in confusion.

Dark-Quirrell turned his intensely unblinking gaze at Jim. "They never even told you?! Chi-chi-chi-chi! How…amusing! 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born in the quarter hour…as the seventh month…dies…' at least, that is all…I…know."

"Who told you about a prophecy?" Harry asked, so he'd know exactly who to kill later.

Dark-Quirrell chortled with great amusement, the force of it so strongly perverse that Harry's blood ran cold in spite of himself. "I…wear many faces…Harry Potter. The-one-like-me-but-not-quite-like-me was made… privy…by pure circumstance…I assure you." He chortled once more though Harry was confused, an expression mirrored by the four Gryffindors.

"The-one-like-me…but-not-quite-like-me was always so…weak…but weakness is not always…without purpose…he was… at the right place…at the right time…always. He was there…to hear of the prophecy… he was there…to learn of the Potters…and the Longbottoms…passing under the Fidelius Charm…and it was because of him…that I learned…the Secret needed…to enter Godric's Hollow…the events of that Halloween… proved rather conclusively…that Jim Potter… is the one with the power… to vanquish me…"

"Who was he?" asked Harry intensely. "Who was the one who revealed all this information to you?" 'The one who betrayed my family' thought Harry darkly. Dark-Quirrell just laughed fiendishly.

"As I said… the-one-like-me…but-not-quite-like-me… he could never…be me. Me, who carries the mantle…of the greatest dark lord…of all time… Me…who is the living breathing legacy… of Destiny … Me…who endures… like my father…before me…and his father… before him… and all those… before them. Solum Potentia …Harry Potter. That is… the only way."

"You?!" exclaimed Harry with pointed incredulity. "You, who's hiding in the form of a poor DADA professor, using him as some pathetic puppet?! Please! You are nothing more than a parasite." Dark-Quirrell's face twisted into a horrible rictus of rage as lightly clouded eyes grew tinged with greater madness.

"I AM REX NORVEGICUS!" His voice thundered across the children. "The greatest Dark Lord… who ever… lived, and will… always… live!" Harry filed that title away for later.

"And despite all that," said Harry snidely, "you still couldn't accomplish your goal with any real conviction. The powerful families didn't really believe in your cause did they? That's why you got Berith Selwyn to cast Imperiuses on them to sway them to your will."

"Berith…Selwyn?!" Quirrell asked in what sounded like confusion. In fact, it sounded so much like confusion that Harry forgot himself and looked directly into his face - and the Dark Lord did seem genuinely confused. Then, Harry realized that Dark-Quirrell and he were looking into each other's eyes. Then, he realized from the Dark Lord's expression of mounting fury that he had read Harry's mind and learned the Stone in his hand was a fake. And then, Harry did the only thing he could think of.

"FLAMMULA!" A round of fireworks shot out of Harry's wand and directly into Quirinus Quirrell's face.

"NOW!" he yelled over the loud popping and the sound of Quirrell's screams.

At that, Theo and Blaise darted around the giant mirror they'd hidden behind while Harry distracted Quirrell. Instantly, they fired off their strongest Finites at the Gryffindors, whose bonds quickly evaporated. At their shouted urging, Hermione, Neville and Ron ran for the stairs, the top of which was still on fire. Blaise and Theo followed them, but Jim, to Harry's surprise and consternation, actually charged at Quirrell. At the last second (and with a loud "KAAI!"), he dropped and slid into Quirrell, kicking the man forcefully right on the side of the kneecap which then gave way with an audible snap, causing the man to fall to the floor with a scream of pain.

Atop the stairs, the other five students desperately cast Aguamentis at the blaze, but the weak streams of water they produced were not enough to quench the fires. Then, Hermione desperately turned to Neville.

"Neville! Remember what it was like the day you first tried the Levitation Charm with your father's wand! Remember how it felt ... like shoving your magic through a brick!"

Neville looked at Hermione in confusion for a second but then suddenly realized what she meant. He nodded, pointed at the flames and yelled "AGUAMENTI!"... but without releasing the spell. Instead of a blast of water, there was a small blue sphere that materialized at the end of his wand, a bubble full of bubbling, frothing water. And as Neville's face contorted with pain, it slowly began to grow.

Down in the Mirror Chamber, Harry shook off his surprise at Jim's martial arts antics and acted.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS! " Instantly, Dark-Quirrell's arms and legs locked together. In spite of his ruined face, the Dark Lord still screamed invectives at the two Potters. With a sick feeling, Harry realized that they had no way to fight the Dark Lord if he abandoned his host and sought to possess someone else. "JIM! We have got to get OUT OF HERE!" he yelled.

Atop the stairs, Neville's legs were shaking and his vision was starting to blur, but at the tip of his wand was a bubble of water more than two feet across. Unable to contain it any longer, Neville released the overpowered spell and a massive flood of water poured out across the flames extinguishing them. The force of the water would have knocked Neville all the way back down the stairs had Ron, Theo and Blaise not caught him and supported him as he unleashed the spell. They were also able to catch him when his eyes fluttered and he passed out from the strain. Hermione darted down the stairs and screamed for Harry and Jim.

Down below, Harry had abandoned all attempts at calling Jim's name and just grabbed the boy - who was still rather effectively kicking Quirrell in the head - with the intention of physically dragging him from the room when a burst of concussive force of magic erupted from the fallen man's body, knocking them both flat onto their backs, groaning in pain.

"ENOUGH OF THIS! " Quirrell rose into the air, his expression wrathfully venomous as he glared at the two fallen Potters. "I played these…games…long enough…it's time… TO DIE! "

He gestured towards the stairwell and snarled " BOMBARDA! " Blaise narrowly managed to grab Hermione and drag her back up the stairs as the explosive curse struck the ceiling and caused it to collapse down and block the stairs. As he tried to shake off the pain, Harry could still hear Hermione desperately calling his name. Then, he felt a powerful force lift him up off the ground and slam his body into a wall. From the sharp yelp of pain he heard, it seemed that his brother had been slammed against the wall right next to him.

'How bloody poetic. Jim and I get to die…together .' Harry sneered internally while struggling against the constraining force, realizing that he and Jim were pinned against a wall and suspended several feet above the ground. Then, to his horror, he saw Quirrell fly over to them, eyes glowing with promised murder.

"A waste …complete waste…this form is not…stable…much like my… true body …" As if to prove his point, his body gave a wracking tremble as it… phased between human and…something else, with small rat-like creatures bulging under his skin's surface. Jim screamed in horror while Harry (choking back his bile) struggled with greater force against his constraint. "But before I lose…this human flesh… I still have enough time… to slay…. the Boy-Who-Lived ... and...his...meddlesome brother too! " And then he smiled a terrible smile of too-sharp, gleaming rat teeth. "You once resisted…the Killing Curse…Jim Potter. Let us see… if you are immune… to a more conventional means… of execution! "

With that, the Dark Lord grasped each Potter by the throat and began to choke the life out of them. The pain at Harry's neck was made worse by a sudden stabbing agony from the small scar on his brow, and he heard Jim scream in pain as well. The two boys both clawed feebly at the man's arms to no avail. Spots started to appear before Harry's eyes, and he grew dizzy. Then, out of instinct, Harry reached out with his hand and tried to claw at Quirrell's eyes. Jim did the same. As Harry's vision faded, he suddenly became aware of a faint sizzling sound, almost like bacon frying, followed instantly by an agonized scream. Then, unconsciousness claimed Harry Potter. His last coherent thought as he fell to the ground was the sensation of a powerful and malevolent force passing through his body as it was thrust out of the room, a force that claimed the power to defy death and that hungered for violent revenge. He felt (more than saw) a bright burst of brilliant white light as he felt a bout of powerful magic flare protectively. Then, nothing but darkness.

A terrible feeling it was. To be pushed through a human form, to be shoved and compacted into his other form, one so limited . To be taken from the form of bone, blood, sinew, and flesh, and know that he would be unable to taste the freedom of human form once more. To fulfill his destiny, to exact his rightful revenge.

A thunderous scream flew from a still formless mouth, a scream of raw impotent rage and the promise of bloodiest vengeance to be wrought upon those that had cursed him. The Potter Twins.

He felt himself flung, flailing from the realm of Reality through the infinite dimensions of the Dark Wild and the Wild Unknown, the threads of Un-Time wrapping themselves against the echoes of his ephemeral flesh. Felt more than heard the ancient voices of the beings that occupied their entrapments within these forbidden realms. Azhorra-Tha, now bound to the northernmost red planet in the depthless skies of the Wild Unknown, with no means of escape. Xa'ligha, the powerful thrum of his dissonance raging unchecked in the Silentless Chasms. A glimpse of Hastur's yellow as he skirted around the frayed edges of Reality. The hungry cries of Mordiggian, reverberating endlessly beneath the chasms of the Underworld. Ctoggha, trapped in the Timeless Sands of the Dreamlands, an endless cycle of Oblivion. Cthaat, imprisoned in the stormy waters beneath the sunken island of Mu. Sho-Gath, wailing in enraged agony at his imprisonment behind an infinite Lament Door. The screams of 'Ymnar from the fringes of the outer realm of the Dark Wild. Many others of the Great Ones, entrapped in magical bondage, he heard them all .

He flailed blindly until finally, finally, he felt himself hurtle back into the realm of Reality, into his other form...

Percy Weasley gave a startled gasp at the sudden screeching that filled his room, dropping his quill in mid-note taking. Realizing the terrible sound was coming from the rat cage, he immediately made his way over and saw poor Scabbers squeaking and flailing rather violently. Tutting in sympathy, Percy retrieved the small papoose given to him by his elder brother Charlie to be used exactly for this purpose.

Poor Scabbers (who'd been Charlie Weasley's pet) was occasionally prone to fits when unconscious, a phenomenon Charlie had described as a seizure. Given his rather traumatic origins, Percy wasn't surprised that the poor creature who'd barely clung to life upon his discovery still dealt with lingering health issues.

"There there little one, you'll be alright." With practiced slowness, Percy gently levitated the still flailing rat into the papoose, making sure to add a Warming Charm to provide further comfort. Per Charlie, it was best to let the rat settle down instead of suddenly waking him, which could cause grievous injury. Soon, Scabbers settled into a fitful sleep under Percy's watchful eye, who stroked the poor being's fur to provide more comfort.

"It's alright little one, all will be well."

AN 1: That was a doozy! That's enough of Dark Lord Peter for now, we'll see him come again in Book 2.

AN 2: Do recall that I've mentioned Peter being a Master of Wild Animagery. That plays heavily into the last bit we just saw.

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