Chapter 13: Chapter 13
Quirrell was starting to get desperate. It has been a year since he met his Master, who attached himself to him. His life force was waning, and his Unicorn blood was not only doing less and less to sustain him, but he was also running out of it fast. He had just a single vial left of it and no way of getting more. Quirrell could go and hunt Unicorns in the Forbidden Forest, but he couldn't risk that. Not with Dumbledore being so close.
Albus was considered the greatest wizard alive for a reason, and Quirrell was scared of the old man. On his first day fo his return, he didn't even need to pretend to stutter. It came naturally to him, knowing that he was standing near Dumbledore with Voldemort attached to his head. Thankfully, the turban that he had enchanted with the instructions of his Master worked as intended.
In his desperation, Quirrell decided he couldn't wait anymore. He knew that the Philosopher Stone was in Hogwarts, and he desperately needed it if he wished to keep on living. With it, he could get his hands on the Elixir of Life and make sure he stays alive. He would also be able to gift it to his Master and help him create a body since he was nothing more than a Wraith anchored to Quirrell.
Dumbledore had asked the Professors to create traps for the security of a magical artifact, which Quirrell knew was the Philosopher Stone. At first, Albus had asked them to create simple and not too dangerous traps. However, the old man had suddenly changed his mind and asked for them to be replaced with traps dangerous to even powerful wizards and witches. Quirrell wasn't sure what Dumbledore was thinking, but Voldemort believed the old man was finally going senile, and his age was catching up to him.
His Master was another problem for him. Quirrell has been absorbing his teaching whenever Voldemort was awake, but every time he made a mistake, he would get punished for it. His turban took him more than a few tries to create. However, after his first failure of getting the Philosopher Stone, Voldemort had been punishing him every time he woke up.
Quirrell was starting to lose it. He couldn't help it anymore, so he decided to act. To top it off, he saw Harry Potter leave the group of friends he'd made and walk the hallways of Hogwarts alone. That was perfect for him, and he decided to capture the Boy-Who-Lived.
If he ends up failing in getting the Philosopher Stone, he could try to appease his Master by giving him Harry Potter himself. The one who had put Voldemort in his Wraith state. How had the boy achieved that, Quirrell didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care. He had no time to ponder on such thoughts.
After making sure that there was no one nearby with a few detection spells, Quirrell flicked his wand and cast the Stupefying Charm. The red light of the spell hit Harry in the back, and the boy fell down unconscious on the ground.
Quirrell had expected that. After all, that's what's supposed to happen when one gets hit by the Stupefying Charm. However, he hadn't expected a black 13 inch-long wand to fly out of the boy's robes and float in front of him.
After observing the beautiful wand for a few moments, he cautiously reached out with his hand and grabbed it. Quirrell's eyes lit up with excitement. The power he felt from the wand was incredible and intoxicating. His old, 9 inch-long made of Alder wood with a Unicorn hair core, felt like trash compared to the one in his hand.
'Another gift I could present to my Master. Or...' Quirrell didn't even dare consider the other thought, less Voldemort learns of it. It wouldn't end well for him.
With a flick of his new wand, Quirrell made Harry float and follow after him. He couldn't help himself from gently stroking the ebony wand after casting the spell. Magic was so much easier with it. It came out so naturally out of it. He didn't think he could ever fail a spell with this beautiful wand.
Quirrell didn't even realize when he had reached the third floor and the magically locked door. He could probably blast through it, but he decided to test something out.
"Alohamora," Quirrell whispered with his wand pointed at the door. His eyes shined brightly as a magical lock was unlocked with a spell that shouldn't have worked on it. The door wasn't locked with a simple Locking Charm. That much he knew since he had tested it out before. Yet, he had just done what should've been impossible.
Before his mind could start thinking, he shut it down. Now was not the time. He needed the Philosopher Stone just as much as Voldemort needed it. Only when gets his hands on it, can he start planning.
Quirrell entered and was greeted by the sight of a gigantic and monstrous three-headed dog. A Cerberus known as Fluffy as he had learned from Hagrid. Quirrell hadn't even bothered using spells on the half-giant. He had just bought Hagrid a few drinks, and the dog's previous owner chattered on, telling him everything he needed to know.
The three heads of Fluffy threatening barked, and the Cerberus was ready to pounce at him. With a leer on his face, Quirrell conjured an animated harp. As soon as the instrument's music filled the room, Fluffy flopped down and fell asleep on the spot.
"An XXXX magical creatures defeated by a song," said Quirrell with disgust. "How pathetic."
With another Alohamora, he unlocked the hatch Fluffy was guarding. Quirrell didn't just jump down recklessly, but first cast a Lumos to light it up. He narrowed his eyes at what he saw. There were at least 5 dangerous plants that he recognized waiting for him there. And 10 more that he had no idea what they were.
Quirrell wasn't worried, though. With his new wand, there was nothing he couldn't do. With a flick, he pointed towards the plants. "Incendio!"
What should've been a small jet of flame turned out to be a massive inferno. Just as Quirrell had imagined it. The greed in his eyes intensified as he gently stroked the wand. He waited for a few moments before casting another spell. "Aguamenti!"
A wave erupted from his wand and quashed down the flames. Quirrell nodded with a satisfied smile before casting the Softening Charm and jumping down. He landed in the puddle of water with an unconscious and floating Harry following him behind. From there, he wasted no time at all. All the traps were destroyed with ease thanks to his ebony wand.
No more than a few minutes later, Quirrell entered the last room. It was empty except for the single mirror in the middle of it.
"Quirrell," he heard the weak voice of Voldemort from underneath his turban. "Are you going after the Philosssopher Ssstone?"
"Yes... Master," Quirrell almost cursed himself for hesitating there. He hoped Voldemort had not registered his hesitation of calling him Master.
"That isss good," came Voldemort's reply, and Quirrell was thankful he wasn't called out. "You know what will happen if you fail me again?"
"Yes, Master," said Quirrell. "I will get my hands on the Philosopher Stone one way or another."
Quirrell stepped next to the mirror and started observing it. Since Voldemort was awake, he decided to distract him from rummaging through his thoughts. "I've also captured Harry Potter, Master."
"Ah, Harry Potter. The child of prophecy." Voldemort remarked. "Killing him would be a sssimple thing to do. That would not do. He needsss to feel pain for what he causssed to me. And maybe, he would decide to join me afterward."
Since he was attached to Quirrell, Voldemort was able to read most of his thoughts. From him, he knew that Harry Potter was a prodigy, and the boy reminded him of his younger days. If he could be 'persuaded' to join him, that would be fine. Otherwise, today would be his last. Either way, Harry Potter would suffer no matter what he chooses. That much he was certain of.
Voldemort was also aware Quirrell was plotting against him. 'Pathetic,' he thought. 'Just because he got a new fancy stick, he thinks himself invincible?' He was Lord Voldemort! A fancy stick meant nothing compared to the vast knowledge he had and the powers he wielded.
Voldemort was never one to care about magical artifacts. He had been interested in some, but never put too much value in them. Voldemort has held the four artifacts left behind by the Four Founders in his hands, yet he had turned three of them into Horcruxes. He had almost managed to finish the collection by turning the forth and last one, Godric Gryffindor's sword, but his plan was thwarted by the blasted Muggleborn.
When he heard about the prophecy from Snape, he had laughed in his servant's face. How could a boy have the power he knows not? He was Lord Voldemort! There was no power he knew not! There are those sorcerers that denied him entry to their Sanctum. He couldn't get to read their books, but they were still using magic, and he was a Master of the Arcane Arts!
Still, Voldemort had been irritated that someone had made a prophecy about him. So he decided to make a statement. At that point, he had already made three of the Founders artifacts into Horcruxes, so it was time to finish the collection.
When it came to the legends of the four artifacts, there was no one else that knew more than him. Getting a Gryffindor to summon the sword took some time, but he had succeeded.
It wasn't that hard since most of Dumbledore's agents were Gryffindors. He just needed to orchestrate the circumstances. It took him a few tries, but Gideon and Fabian Prewett summoned the sword when fighting against Antonin Dolohov and four other of his Death Eaters. They showed their bravery when they thought they had a chance while his servants were only toying with them at his commands. Antonin presented him with the sword after picking it from their cold bodies.
Everything was going smoothly, but that blasted Muggleborn ruined it for him. He was ashamed to admit it, but she had outplayed him. She was talented and had so much potential as a witch. He understood why Snape wanted him to spare her. She could've been a useful servant. Alas, it was not to be.
The Wizarding World then decided to make Harry Potter a hero and called him one of the greatest wizards? Were they serious? Did they truly believe a 1-year old boy ended him, the greatest Dark Wizard of all times? The stupidity of the Wizarding Wolrd knew no bounds, but that has always worked in his favor. He will return, and he will crush them all! It was just a matter of time. After all, he was Lord Voldemort, the greatest Dark Wizard that has ever existed.
While Quirrell was studying the mirror and trying to find out how to take out the Philosopher Stone without damaging it, Harry was starting to wake up. The boy let out a groan and wonderer what the hell happened.
Reviewing his memories was a quick process even though his head was hurting. He had gotten used to it and was practiced at doing it. He was walking towards the Room of Requirements when someone had hit him with a stunner.
Harry looked around. He was in a dark room with a mirror in the middle and the perpetrator of his attack observing it. Harry couldn't believe it was the useless, stuttering, garlic-smelling DADA Professor. The man hadn't been able to cast a spell due to his stutter, so how the hell did he stun him?
Or was all of that an act? Like the rest of the Professors, he had Occlumency shields. One of the strongest even, but he felt they were more artificial in nature. They didn't seem natural, so Harry believed he was using a magical item. Harry rubbed his temples. His head hurt, and thinking didn't help him.
"Ah, Mr. Potter has awoken from his beauty sleep," said Quirrell after hearing Harry groan. Clearly, his stuttering was an act, but why? What was he supposed to gain from it, Harry wondered.
"What do you want?" Harry asked as he slowly stood up.
"Lots of things, Mr. Potter, none which you can give me," Quirrell replied. "I suppose-"
"Lesssss talking! Punisssh him! And find the Philosssopher Ssstone!" Came the raspy voice of Voldemort from underneath his turban.
As Harry was wondering why that voice sounded somewhat familiar, he noticed the wand in Quirrell's hand. He was still an 11-year old boy, and like anyone his age, he got angered by someone taking his stuff. Rage boiled inside him, and he tried summoning the wand to his hand, but it refused his call. That angered him even further, and he was about to reach out with his telekinesis, but Quirrell acted before that. With a flick, the Elder Wand was pointed in his direction. "Crucio!"
Harry had no way to defend himself against the Cruciatus Curse. There was no light produced from the spell to signify that it was cast successfully.
One moment, Quirrell was pointing the wand towards him, the next moment, Harry was hit by intense and all-consuming pain. He fell on the ground writhing in pain. All the nerves on his body felt as if they were on fire. His piercing headache reached a point where he couldn't even think clearly. Harry writhed in pain on the ground, and his painful cries filled the room. With a sadistic leer, Quirrell cast the spell once more before turning towards the mirror.
The Phoenix, which had been quiet for the past few days, sang her song. She tried comforting the boy she had been with for the past 10 years. Her song had no effect on him, however, for pain was the only thing he knew at that moment. She tried harder and increased her power, but there was little to no effect. If Harry had been able to pay attention, he would've noticed that she grew in size. Not by much, but she was larger than before.
The wrath that the Phoenix felt at that moment was indescribable. Harry was the youngest host she had ever had in all of the Universes. She had been with him since he was nothing but a little boy who had unlocked his mutant powers. She had watched him grow by the years and started to care about him as a mother would for her child. She wanted to be with him throughout his entire life, witness his death, and oversee his rebirth, where she would choose him as her host once more.
Seeing her host in pain and tortured by Quirrell, the Phoenix knew she had to do something about it. She increased the small fraction that was inside Harry just a little bit, enough for her to able to take control.
"Sleep, my child." Those were the first words the Phoenix had spoken to him, but he was unable to hear them due to the pain he was in. She put Harry to a mental sleep before taking control of his body.
Harry's screams suddenly stopped, and Quirrell sharply turned around towards the boy. His Curse should've lasted longer, especially when it was cast by his new wand. Something was amiss, and he had a bad feeling about it.
A sudden pressure descendent into the room and the temperature rapidly increased. Quirrell wasn't sure what's happening, but seeing Harry standing up, he knew he had to act. Immediately, he sent another Cruciatus Curse, but no painful screams followed, there was no writhing in pain. Nothing.
The Phoenix had experience death oh so many times. The pain from the curse was nothing to her. She would've loved to return that pain back to the one that dared torture her host, but she had to end this quickly. Harry was still young and couldn't sustain her power for long at the moment. In time, he will grow, and she would slowly give him more of her powers until he could act in her stead in this Universe. He would become the judge, jury, and executioner, for the Phoenix had power over Life, Death, and Rebirth.
Quirrell was panicking. He had no idea why his Curse wasn't working. That shouldn't have happened with his new wand. He was about to unleash another spell when he saw Harry's eyes. They were no longer his normal piercing emerald orbs. Golden orbs of fire had replaced them.
Quirrell was entranced for a moment and watched in a daze as Harry reached out with his hand as if he was about to grab something. A hand made of magnificent golden fire formed around and gripped him tightly.
The mirror behind him was also within the hand's grasp, and before he could even scream in pain from intense temperature, Harry swiped his hand. Quirrell and the mirror were shot towards the wall at incredible speed. They were slammed with such force, that they were turned to nothing more but smithereens.
The soul Voldemort flew away through the walls of Hogwarts while madly shrieking. He was a Wraith, yet the golden fire burned him even in his current form. If he had stayed there for just a second longer, he was sure that he would've been destroyed even though he had created 5 Horcruxes. Voldemort had no idea how that fire was able to hurt his soul, but he didn't dare stay there any longer. He had never felt so weak before and vowed to destroy the one who caused him this much pain.
The Phoenix knew that the Wraith had run away, but she didn't give chase since Harry couldn't hold her power for much longer. She would leave the job of dealing with the one that dared defy her to her host. He would be nothing but a stepping stone for her Avatar on his long road.
The Elder Wand floated up in front of her, and the Phoenix stared at it for a moment. This was an item solely of Death, and she wasn't fond of it, but she knew her host still needed it. She took it and stashed in Harry's robes before using her telekinesis to pull a red stone from the remains of the mirror. An item solely of Life. Again, it was not something she was fond of, but it could be of use to her host. It was pocked inside Harry's Mokeskin pouch before she called out to her other host's phoenix.
"Ryze!" The crimson bird appeared with a burst of fire and instantly bowed down to her.
"Take us to his room," the Phoenix commanded, and Ryze obeyed. With a burst of fire, they appeared in Harry's room.
The Phoenix made sure to get her host in his bed before releasing the control over his body. Harry would need to rest since she had overstayed her welcome. His mind, body, and soul were still too weak to control her powers. In time, that would change, she was sure of that.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
firechicken
firechicken I haven't really talked about the Elder Wand, so I used this as an opportunity to do it. There is a reason why it's considered the strongest wand in existance and is one of the reasons Harry had so much success with magic. He is talented, even in the original HP, plus he has his mindscape where he could read faster, but but the Elder Wand was also important for his success.
I also wanted to show what would happen when someone else gets ahold of it. Quirrell went from; I can gift this to my Master, to I can keep it for myself, and finally, I can challenge Voldemort with it.
I wanted to mention something else, but I forgot what it was, soo. anyway, I hope you enjoyed, leave a comment, yada yada yada.
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