Chapter Twenty Four
When Harry reached the end of the passageway he remained in the dark. He was now in a large square chamber. Four pillars stood out a little from each corner of the room. The chamber was dimly lit which gave Harry a curious sense of foreboding. Silently, Harry crept behind the nearest stone pillar. He peered out from behind the cylindrical column and spotted Professor Quirrell pacing the chamber floor anxiously. He then stopped and approached something in the centre of the chamber. It was then that Harry noticed the Mirror of Erised standing solemnly and motionless as Quirrell circled it hungrily like a starved vulture.
Then Quirrell started to speak and Harry immediately noticed that his stutter had vanished. He seemed so much more alert and confident. Harry even noticed his gait displayed more self-assurance. Harry strained to hear the words he spoke to the mirror.
"The mirror is the key. But what does this involve? Must I look within it for the answer," he said in a frustrated manner. Harry then heard a slight gasp of shock and guessed that Quirrell had seen something in the mirror. He continued to mutter to himself. "I see myself. I'm presenting the precious Stone to my master. But how do I get it?! Must I break it!" he shouted angrily.
It was then that Harry knew he had stop Quirrell from destroying the mirror. If he did break the mirror it would destroy any chance Harry had of getting the Philosophers Stone. He stepped out from behind the pillar, drawing his wand as he did so. Quirrell immediately spun around, his wand pointing directly at Harry. A sly smile appeared on Quirrell's face. "Well, well, well, Potter. Surprised to see me," he said calmly.
"Not completely," Harry replied evenly. "It was a tie between you and Professor Snape."
Quirrell let out a harsh cold laugh that rang around the chamber and sent a shiver down Harry's spine. "Yes, Severus does seem quite the betrayer and thief. I suppose you thought he tried to kill you," he said simply, waiting for a surprised look from Harry.
Harry kept his face impassive. "He was seen muttering a jinx. I guess I jumped to conclusions too rashly. It was you. Was Snape trying to help?"
"Help!" Quirrell screamed with delight. "Severus wouldn't help me. He was protecting you. Muttering his little counter- jinx. Saving you. Why bother? Eh? You're going to die tonight anyway," he said before sending a curse Harry's way.
Harry dodged the beam of light and smiled wryly at the man's contorted face. "I'm not finished talking yet. Why would Snape want to save me? He's always seemed to dislike me so much."
Quirrell twisted face calmed slightly and he began talking again. "He does hate you. An old feud between your father and the overgrown bat left him the way he is today. They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead. I can't think for the life of me, why?" he said with a horrible smile. "Why not murder the great Harry Potter? He shot another curse at Harry which Harry blocked. Harry then sent a stunner flying towards Quirrell which he narrowly missed. Harry raised an eyebrow at the shocked look on Quirrell's thin face.
"Did you think I would sit idly by and watch someone attempt to resurrect Lord Voldemort?
Fear masked Quirrell's face. "Do not speak the Dark Lord's name," he hissed. "My master suffered because of you. Fear him as you should. May death behold you."
"Death already holds me," said Harry quietly. "My parents' deaths sent me here tonight. And will also be the reason for your failure." He paused letting his words sink in. Quirrell did seem less casual as he had been at the beginning of the conversation.
"So tell me," Harry started again trying to buy time. "How does a simple young man end up playing servant to Voldemort?"
Quirrell flinched visibly at the mention of his masters' name but began to talk anyway. "I met him…while traveling. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. The Dark Lord showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil. There is only power and those too weak to seek it. I became a faithful servant and regained my position at Hogwarts, under the fool of Dumbledore. My attempts to steal the Stone have so far been unsuccessful. But now I will succeed."
He suddenly sent another curse at Harry who hadn't suspected it. Harry was thrown off his feet and crashed into a pillar. His wand flew from his hand. "Enough of this stupid nonsense,' Quirrell said irritably. With another wave of his wand Harry was sent soaring into the air and collided heavily with another of the stone columns. Harry could barely breathe from how much pain his body was enduring. Pieces of stone and dust covered him from head to foot. His glassed were smashed and blood trickled down the side of his face from where a piece of glass had shattered and cut his skin just below his eye. Harry almost felt paralyzed from the pain. Every bone in his body seemed to scream from the it.
Quirrell had returned his attention to the mirror after seeing Harry's struggling form. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"
Harry heard a voice answer. A slight hiss coming from within Quirrell. `Use the boy…use the boy…"
Quirrell rounded on Harry. He strode over to him and dragged him across the floor to face the mirror. Harry tried to struggle against Quirrell's iron clad grip but Quirrell countered by aiming a kick at Harry's mid-section leaving Harry thoroughly winded. When he had placed him in front of the mirror Harry sank to the ground, not having the ability or will to stand on his own feet.
Quirrell heaved Harry up off the ground using his jumper as a collar. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see," commanded Quirrell. Harry shut his eyes and averted his head from the mirror. "DO IT!" screamed Quirrell hysterically. But Harry didn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
Quirrell threw him roughly to the ground and walked off again muttering to himself and cursing.
Harry's mind was racing. He could barely move and Quirrell seemed to have attained extra power from somewhere. And Harry knew that Voldemort was the one who had given strength to Quirrell but he had also taken it away simultaneously. Harry now knew also why Quirrell wore the ridiculous purple turban.
Voldemort had obviously been using him as a temporary body.
Harry heard the ominous sounds of Quirrell's agitated footsteps. He was distracted and Harry saw a tiny glimmer of hope. Using his hands to pull himself around to face the mirror he looked into it from the ground. He immediately saw himself staring back out at him lying on the ground. But the image of him in the mirror didn't have any injuries and he wore a smile. In his hand he held the blood red Philosophers Stone and as Harry watched, he dropped it into his pocket. Harry gasped slightly as he felt the new weight of the Stone in his pocket.
He then heard footstep approaching from behind him and winced as he rolled over. Then he heard the high cruel voice of Voldemort coming from under the turban of Quirrell. "He needs more persuasion. Let me speak to him…face to face." Quirrell hesitated in his answer, wringing his hands. "Master…you…you are not strong enough," he stammered.
There was a silence and Harry knew Voldemort was angry. Quirrell immediately started to tremble as he hurried to unwrap his turban, the cloth falling to the ground noiselessly. He turned slowly on the spot leaving Harry to stare in horror at the now hideous face of Voldemort imprinted on the back of Quirrell's small head. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils.
Harry had now stopped breathing afraid that something might happen if he dared to. The face smiled deviously. "I shock you Harry Potter. I have become mere shadow and vapor. A hint of my former self.
What little strength I have has been aided by unicorn blood which my faithful servant has drunk for me.
But now with the Elixir of Life I will be able to create a body of my own. So why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"
Harry, using all of his strength, dragged himself onto his feet. He swayed slightly from the buckling pain in his legs. Voldemort smiled serenely. "Ah…bravery. They say it conquers all. I do not believe so. Your parents had it, but I murdered them quite easily. Your father put up a courageous fight…but your mother needn't have died…she was trying to protect you. Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."
"As if you'd let me live," said Harry taking a slow step back. "SEIZE HIM" screamed Voldemort. Harry summoned his wand wordlessly and immediately shot a spell at Quirrell who was sent flying backwards. Harry then tried to run from the chamber but found he went slowly and was limping. Then Quirrell, with a wave of his wand, sent Harry soaring through the air and he slammed heavily back onto the ground in a heap. Harry rolled over instantly trying desperately to ignore the pain riddling through his body.
"Expelliarmus" Harry shouted at Quirrell who was now standing directly over him, his wand pointed at Harry's heart. Quirrell's wand went flying backwards and skidded across the ground halting under the mirror. Quirrell then removed a small knife from within his robes. Harry caught its jagged blade glint in the little light left in the chamber. He sliced immediately at Harry's hand, making Harry drop his wand. A deep red blood poured from a deep wound on the back of Harry's hand.
Quirrell then wrapped his hand around Harry's neck. A needle sharp pain seared across Harry's scar, his head felt as though it was about to split in two. Then, with a yell, Quirrell let go of Harry and hunched in pain looking at his hand which was blistering before his eyes. The pain lessened from Harry's scar and he could now see Quirrell's burnt raw hand. Harry looked at own hands in awe. Was it his skin doing this?
A sudden panicked shout rent the air. "KILL HIM." Quirrell lunged at him again but Harry rolled out of the way. He pulled himself onto his feet and lunged at Quirrell who was still holding his knife with his uninjured hand. Harry's hands touched Quirrell's face first and his screams echoed around the chamber. Harry's head seemed to burst open from the excruciating pain in his scar.
He had screwed his eyes up against the pain but opened them when he heard the screams cease. Harry felt extremely weak and fell back against a pillar for support. He thought he saw a faint black mist over where Quirrell's burnt body lay lifeless. Then it disappeared and Harry was left alone and shaking. For a few moments everything seemed to be surreal as if everything in front of him was a dream or a memory. Then he staggered towards Quirrell's body and fell to his knees beside it.
It was then that Harry felt the deep penetrating pain in the side of his chest. He knew it had been there before, he just hadn't felt it. He looked down slowly at Quirrell's empty hands and then saw the handle of the short knife protruding from the side of his own chest. Holding his breath Harry slowly removed the knife from his own chest and let it drop to the floor with an ominous clatter that rang through the room. Blood began to pour from the wound, sinking into his school jumper. Harry pressed a hand over the opening trying to end the flow of blood.
Suddenly Harry heard hurried footsteps coming from down the passageway. He turned to see Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape at the entrance to the chamber. In the blink of an eye, Dumbledore was bent down in front of Harry, trying to catch his eye or some sign that he was going to be alright. Harry seemed to be drifting into another world, his eyes looking at Quirrell's body instead of Dumbledore.
Slowly Harry reached inside his pocket with his shaking hand and carefully removed the Philosophers Stone. He held it up in front of him, in the middle of himself and Dumbledore. It seemed to glow for a moment as if it was the centre of the small chamber. Dumbledore noticed again the drifting look that was in Harry's eyes as he stared at the blood red stone. Harry then moved his gaze from the stone to look directly into Dumbledore's worried blue eyes. A seemingly endless pause was ended when Harry whispered "I'm sorry."
Dumbledore caught Harry's body as he fell forward, unconscious. The Stone left Harry's lifeless hand and rolled slightly before being picked up by Professor Snape who immediately wrapped a small black cloak around it and handed it to Professor McGonagall who looked utterly stricken.
Professor Dumbledore turned Harry over and hastily examined him, taking in his stab wound and also how limp Harry's body seemed. "We must get him to the Hospital Wing immediately," he ordered. As Dumbledore attempted to lift Harry, Snape made his way forward and lifted his motionless body with little effort. Dumbledore nodded and they started back towards the dark stone passageway.
End Chapter
Thanks for reading. Please review, tell me what you think.
I was thinking of Harry training with muggle objects in the next fic. Like weapons. What do you think?
Anyway thanks again
Take care,
Radagast
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