Chapter 142: Chapter 142: "The Forest Aftermath"
The next morning, after a terrifying night in the Forbidden Forest, Charles was sitting nervously in Headmaster Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore, looking both concerned and curious, had called him in to get a firsthand account of what had happened the night before. He had already heard a version from Hagrid but wanted to confirm the details with Charles.
Charles began to recount the evening's events, starting with the detention supervised by Hagrid that aimed to track down an injured unicorn in the forest. He then moved on to the unexpected and frightening duel he and Malfoy stumbled upon. Charles vividly described the scene: one figure cloaked in black, casting the deadly green Avada Kedavra curse, and another mysterious, handsome person who skillfully deflected the spells with conjured stone blocks.
Charles shared how a stray spell had given away their hiding spot, his fall while fleeing for his life, and near miss from a killing curse, which was blocked just in time by the quick actions of the mysterious defender.
He concluded his tale by explaining the sudden appearance of a centaur, which caused the cloaked attacker to flee. However, in a final desperate act, the attacker unleashed a massive fire, possibly to cover his escape.
"I am sorry, Charley, that you found yourself in danger once again at Hogwarts," Dumbledore began with a gentle tone. "I will make sure this does not happen again. Thank Merlin, you're unharmed. Could you describe this handsome person you mentioned? Have you seen him before? Did he speak to you?"
Charles replied, "It was too dark to see clearly, but I could tell he was handsome. I've never seen him before in my life, and he seemed quite angry at me, ignoring my questions."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "He has a reason to be upset. It seems he was close to defeating his opponent until you inadvertently interrupted. But I am concerned about the presence of two powerful unknown wizards near the school. Their motives are unclear, and we must be cautious."
"Grandpa, I think they are after the Philosopher's Stone," Charles insisted. "And I believe the cloaked figure was Professor Snape. He wants to steal the stone for Voldemort. The centaur that escorted me mentioned Voldemort's interest in the stone."
Dumbledore's expression remained calm as he responded, "Charley, while your insights are valuable, I assure you the stone is secure and well-protected. And you must trust that Professor Snape is not involved in this. He has my complete confidence."
"But I saw him threatening Professor Quirrel, and everything points to him wanting the stone," Charles countered, frustration evident in his voice.
Dumbledore sighed. "I will investigate your concerns. Now, you should head to your classes, especially with exams approaching. You can't afford to miss your studies. Forget about the stone for now."
As Charles prepared to leave, Dumbledore's tone softened yet carried an underlying firmness. "And Charley," he added, "it's imperative that you keep last night's events confidential for now. I need to investigate this without any external interference. Please ensure your friends do the same."
Charles nodded solemnly, understanding the seriousness of the situation. "I'll make sure of it, Grandpa," he promised as he turned to leave the office, his mind swirling with thoughts of exams and the mysterious events of the night.
As Charles left the room, Snape stepped out from the shadows where he had been eavesdropping.
Snape spoke up, a hint of concern in his voice, "Dumbledore, was it wise to send those children into the Forbidden Forest for detention? With Quirrell out there, it was overly dangerous."
Dumbledore responded calmly, "It was necessary. I wanted to test their courage. Besides, Hagrid was with them; I expected no serious harm to come to them."
Snape frowned slightly, "I suppose. But I thought you'd be more cautious with the Potter boy, given his importance."
Dumbledore replied, "He needs to be tested. Facing such challenges is essential for him to be prepared for what's to come."
Snape shifted the topic, clearly uneasy, "Regardless of your plans for the boy, I believe it's time to deal with Quirrell. His behavior is becoming erratic and dangerous."
Dumbledore considered this but shook his head, "Not yet, Severus. And what about the other wizard who confronted Quirrell in the forest? What do you make of him?"
Snape answered, "I inspected the duel site. Whoever it was managed to extinguish a Fiendfyre, a feat no student could achieve. It's clear we're dealing with a skilled and powerful adult wizard."
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, "Indeed, it's troubling. We do not know his motives, and that uncertainty is dangerous."
Snape suggested, "He could be after the Philosopher's Stone as well. The temptation is great."
Dumbledore nodded, absorbed in thought.
Snape continued, "Have you spoken to the centaurs? Potter mentioned they were quite communicative with the mysterious wizard. They might know something."
Dumbledore sighed, "Unfortunately, my relations with the centaurs are strained at the moment. They're upset that I haven't dealt with Quirrell, whose actions threaten the forest they protect and the unicorns."
Snape expressed frustration, "I don't understand why you insist on this course of action. We know the Dark Lord influences Quirrell. Wouldn't it be wiser to stop him now?"
Dumbledore replied quietly but firmly, "Trust me, Severus. I am doing what I believe is necessary." Then, breaking a brief silence, he added, "It seems we have some unexpected visitors."
As Snape turned towards the Door, it burst open, and Lucius Malfoy stormed in. His face was red with anger, and his eyes sparkled fiercely as he slammed his cane against the floor.
"Albus! This is outrageous!" Lucius exclaimed. "At first, I thought Draco was exaggerating, but then I remembered this is exactly the kind of thing you do, Dumbledore. Sending young people into danger! But how dare you send my son, the sole heir of the Malfoy line, into that dangerous forest? Especially when, if my sources are correct, there is a wizard hunting unicorns there! This is utterly unacceptable. How could you allow such recklessness?"
Dumbledore responded calmly, "Lucius, as far as I am aware, you've lost your position on the Board of Governors after losing the support of the Black family. You have no authority to make demands here at Hogwarts."
Lord Malfoy gave a disdainful snort, "My position on the Board might be compromised, but I still have allies there. After they read my son's letter about last night, they permitted me to confront you and demand a satisfactory explanation."
Dumbledore nodded slightly, "It's good to know you still have some connections. However, Severus and I are still looking into last night's events. I didn't make the decision to send first years into the forest for detention, and we will inform the Board once we have all the facts."
Lucius Malfoy stood firm in Dumbledore's office, his voice filled with frustration and anger. "This isn't going to work, Dumbledore. My son was nearly killed! I'm not going to sit around while you concoct some story. If I don't get an explanation right now, I'll go to the Daily Prophet. They'll jump at the chance to cover this after the Halloween incident," he threatened.
Dumbledore tried to calm the situation. "Lucius, let's not make this worse. Draco is safe, after all. And you must have other concerns, especially with the financial troubles since the Blacks withdrew their support. Focus on that, and I'll provide a full explanation later."
But Malfoy was unyielding. "Stop mentioning the Black family. I know your relationship with them isn't great either. If I involve them, they might even support me in blowing this up even bigger."
Dumbledore realized he was in a precarious position, knowing well that Sirius Black would seize the opportunity to retaliate for past grievances linked to his godson.
With a sigh of concession, Dumbledore asked, "Alright, Lucius, what do you want to keep this quiet?"
Malfoy glared at Dumbledore with disdain. "You tell me, Dumbledore. What can you do to keep this quiet? Remember, my son nearly lost his life last night."
Dumbledore responded calmly, "I'm willing to support your return to the Hogwarts Board of Governors."
Malfoy remained silent, waiting for more.
Dumbledore continued, "I can also shield you from some of your adversaries during this challenging time. That's the best I can offer. Don't push me further, Lucius, or I might not be able to control what gets leaked to the press. Is that what you want?"
Snape, who had been quietly observing the tense exchange, saw a chance to improve the offer. He smoothly suggested, "And perhaps, Lucius, we could consider Draco for the Seeker position on the Quidditch team next year."
Realizing this was probably the best deal he would get without upsetting Dumbledore further, Malfoy agreed. "That would be... acceptable," he conceded, his tone less heated. "I'll look forward to hearing good news from Draco, Severus."
With a reluctant nod, Lucius turned and left the office, his fury somewhat eased by the promises made.
Once the door closed, Dumbledore let out a weary sigh and turned to Snape. "That resolves one issue. Severus, please focus on identifying this mysterious wizard. Leave Quirrel to me for now."
Snape nodded in agreement and departed, leaving Dumbledore alone with his thoughts about the mysterious figure disrupting his plans.
Chapter 143: Chapter 143: "The Final Confrontation"
For Harry, the revelation of his disguised identity to Charles and Dumbledore was insignificant. He had already accepted that keeping his Arthur Personna a secret was not going to last, especially since the centaurs knew and they had connections with Dumbledore. He didn't let this concern him too much.
Instead, Harry focused on more pressing issues. He was closely monitoring Professor Quirrell, who had taken a break from teaching due to ill health after their confrontation. The failure to secure unicorn blood, combined with the significant drain on his magic during their duel, had left Quirrell physically weakened.
Harry suspected Quirrell was resting up, regaining his strength for another attempt at the unicorn blood. With this in mind, Harry kept a vigilant watch over Quirrell's movements, ready to intercept him at the right moment to prevent any rash decisions.
As days turned into a week, Quirrell remained inactive, which puzzled Harry. Even as final exams came and went, there was no sign of movement from Quirrell. But the very night after exams concluded, Quirrell finally stirred, not heading towards the forest as Harry expected, but towards the third-floor corridor, targeting the Philosopher's Stone.
Noticing Dumbledore's absence from the castle confirmed Harry's suspicions: Quirrell was making a desperate, last-ditch effort to seize the stone, waiting for the moment when Dumbledore was away.
This was not ideal for Harry's plan. He had hoped to confront Quirrell outside the school to avoid complications or unwanted witnesses if things went awry. A confrontation within the castle walls, especially with the possibility of Voldemort's spirit making a scene, was too risky with portraits, ghosts, and house-elves around.
Left with no other choice, Harry decided to follow Quirrell. He needed to adapt his plans on the fly, aiming to thwart Quirrell's efforts without exposing his own identity or escalating the situation further.
Harry followed Professor Quirrell to the entrance of the forbidden corridor stealthily. Hidden beneath his invisibility cloak, he observed as Quirrell entered the lair where Fluffy, the giant three-headed dog, was kept. Immediately, Fluffy started barking loudly, recognizing the intruder who had bothered him repeatedly.
Quirrell, unnerved by Fluffy's aggressive response, quickly conjured a harp that began to play calming music. The barking ceased, and the beast seemed to relax and drift to sleep. However, Harry, seizing an opportunity to thwart Quirrell's plans without him noticing, silently cast a muffliato spell on the harp, ensuring that its soothing tunes wouldn't reach Fluffy.
Believing Fluffy to be asleep and no longer a threat, Quirrell turned his attention to the trap door beneath the dog. He was so focused on his goal of obtaining the Philosopher's Stone that he didn't realize the music had stopped. As he opened the trap door, the slight noise awakened Fluffy, who lunged at him fiercely. Quirrell dodged just in time, but not before Fluffy managed to tear a large piece of his cloak.
Frustrated and fearful, Quirrell raised his wand against Fluffy, ready to eliminate the obstacle permanently. However, a rough voice halted his action.
It was Voldemort, speaking through Quirrell, advising caution, "Don't. The killing curse inside the castle would surely alert Dumbledore. We have to think of another way."
"But master, this is the best time to go for the stone with Dumbledore away. We won't have another opportunity like this," Quirrell argued, frustrated by the failure of the enchanted harp.
Voldemort, ever calculating, proposed a fallback plan, "Let's change plans. Get some more unicorn blood first. After your body is well, we can still wait. These last few weeks of school, Dumbledore is going to be very busy with school and ministry duties. We can find another chance."
Agreeing reluctantly, Quirrell withdrew, and Harry, hidden nearby, couldn't help but smile at the success of his intervention. He quickly erased any signs of his tampering in Fluffy's den and left, hearing the music now playing again, which lulled the giant dog back to sleep. Harry considered cleaning up Quirrell's traces but decided against it, thinking it might lead Dumbledore to believe Quirrell had succeeded in his mission and fled with the stone.
Harry, having shadowed Quirrell closely, quickly reached the dense, shadowy confines of the Forbidden Forest. Suddenly, Quirrell stopped abruptly and spun around.
"Come out. I know you're there," Quirrell called out sharply, his voice cutting through the silence of the forest. "Stop hiding. You must be tired from following me all this way."
Harry was taken aback by the call-out. He had always trusted his cloak to render him invisible, using it effectively to trail Quirrell throughout the year without detection. Perhaps his confidence had led him too close this time, or maybe Quirrell had employed some enhanced means of detection in anticipation of his crucial mission to retrieve the stone that led to his detection.
This shattered Harry's belief in the infallibility of the Death's Cloak, especially against formidable wizards such as Voldemort, Dumbledore, or Moody who might possess means to counteract such magical invisibility. This realization urged Harry to be more cautious about relying solely on the cloak when in the presence of such powerful individuals.
With no other choice, Harry removed his cloak, revealing his Arthur disguise, and stepped forward with a composed expression.
"How did you detect me?" Harry inquired, eager to understand how his cover had been blown.
"I didn't. My master did," Quirrell responded, his voice tinged with a hint of fear.
"Your master? The other voice? When did he notice me?" Harry continued, seeking more information. He had all the time to play around with Quirrelmort.
At this moment, the raspy, harsh voice of Voldemort himself took over. "Let me speak to him… face-to-face…"
"Master, you are not strong enough!" Quirrel objected, concerned for Voldemort's strength.
"I have strength enough… for this…" Voldemort insisted, his voice filled with a grim determination.
Giving in, Quirrell's hands trembled slightly as he reached up to unwind his turban, revealing the grotesque face of Voldemort fused at the back of his head. Voldemort's eyes, red and piercing, met Harry's with a chilling intensity.
"I noticed you from the very beginning," Voldemort declared with an all-knowing tone. "That's why I stopped Quirrell from moving forward with our plan for the stone. I didn't want you sneaking in and snatching away the fruits of my hard labor."
Harry watched the back of Quirrell's head move as Voldemort spoke, finding the situation both amusing and unsettling.
"You're mistaken, I have no interest in the stone," Harry clarified.
"Why oppose me then? Who are you?" Voldemort demanded, unable to recall Harry among his known enemies.
"I'm just someone who wants to protect the unicorns and the forest. That's why I'm thwarting your plans," Harry responded.
"Are you doing all this just for those creatures?" Voldemort scoffed, unable to comprehend Harry's motivations.
"Yes, they matter more to me than an unknown like you. Who are you anyway? You look somewhat familiar," Harry countered, feigning ignorance.
"I am the most feared dark lord of this era. You should know of me and fear me," Voldemort declared with arrogance.
Harry, unimpressed, joked, "Oh, you're the guy with no nose and no name."
Voldemort, infuriated by the mockery, retorted, "How dare you! It seems you wish to die."
"Considering our last encounter, do you really think you can defeat me? You're too weak, old dark lord," Harry taunted, dismissing Voldemort's threat.
Voldemort, his patience exhausted, decided, "It appears you desire death. I would have offered you a chance to serve me, but now you leave me no choice. Kill him!"
Quirrell, on receiving Voldemort's command, quickly turned to face his opponent. However, before he could act, he was struck by a spell that sent his wand flying out of his hand. Harry had cleverly used the moment of distraction to cast a silent Expelliarmus, effectively disarming Quirrell and leaving him defenseless.
Staring angrily but helplessly at Harry, Quirrell realized he had no means to fight back.
Harry spoke "Goodbye, Quirrell. You were the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher the students have had in a while. They will miss you. And goodbye to you too, no-nose Dark Lord."
Voldemort responded with fury, his voice echoing with a supernatural force. "I am immortal! I won't die. You will regret your actions today. I will return for revenge."
Voldemort's threats were merely a ruse, as Quirrel suddenly surged forward, flying at a speed that would stun most. Yet, for Harry, now a trainee knight with sharpened senses, Quirrell's rapid approach seemed sluggish. Effortlessly, Harry sidestepped the attack and delivered a forceful punch, sending Quirrell hurtling toward a nearby massive tree.
Unimpressed, Harry taunted, "Is that your last effort? I expected more from a so-called Dark Lord. I've had enough entertainment for one day; it's time for you to leave."
As Harry prepared to deliver the final blow, an unexpected reaction occurred at the spot where he had struck Quirrell. The skin there began to blister and burn, causing Quirrell to scream in agony.
Harry understood immediately—his grandmother's sacrifice had activated, unleashing its protective magic.
Voldemort, bewildered and alarmed, demanded, "What is this? What did you do?"
Harry, seizing the opportunity to mislead him, replied confidently, "It was one of my tests. Seems like it worked. How do you like being bested by the blood of the Boy Who Lived?"
This was the best explanation Harry could muster to mislead Voldemort. He realized that if he wasn't convincing enough, Voldemort, with his sharp intelligence, might deduce Harry's true identity. Such a revelation could lead to severe complications in the future.
Satisfied with his quick thinking, Harry felt that his fabricated story about the blood of "the Boy Who Lived" would not only mislead Voldemort but also ensure that future events, particularly the ones involving the Goblet of Fire, unfolded as they had originally. This narrative was crucial because it prevented Voldemort from possibly using the blood of any other enemy for his resurrection, which could lead to unpredictable changes in the timeline.
Voldemort, confused, asked, "Potter's blood?"
"Yes, it's Charles Potter's blood," Harry stated, seizing the chance to end the confrontation swiftly. "I must leave now; there's no time for more explanations. Goodbye, and here, take some more of Potter's blood."
With that, Harry pulled out a vial of his own blood that he had stored for experimental purposes. He hurled it towards the weakened Quirrellmort. As the vial shattered, the blood splattered over Quirrell, causing immediate, searing pain where it touched.
Quirrell's screams echoed through the forest, desperate and unheeded. Voldemort, furious and helpless, commanded him to get up and continue the fight, cursing Charles Potter's name repeatedly.
But it was too late; the protective magic of the sacrificial blood had done its work, burning Quirrell's form into nothingness within moments.
From the remains, rose the ethereal wraith of Voldemort, emerging in anger and desperation. Filled with rage, it lunged at Harry.
But Harry was prepared. He knew one spell potent enough for such an encounter: the Fiendfyre. Conjuring a blazing thunderbird from his wand, he directed it at the spectral Voldemort. Sensing the imminent danger, Voldemort quickly veered off, evading the fiery attack.
Seeing that he had no chance of winning, Voldemort quickly fled. Harry's magical fire, though fast, couldn't catch the swiftly escaping wraith.
Watching Voldemort flee, Harry extinguished the Fiendfyre. It was a disappointment, not being able to vanquish him completely. Harry realized that without a deeper understanding of soul magic, he couldn't finish Voldemort for good—at least not until Voldemort regained a physical form.
His immediate task complete, Harry turned his attention to erasing all traces of their clash. He meticulously cleaned the area of any residual blood and magical signatures, ensuring no evidence was left behind. He also destroyed what remained of Quirrell's body, and stored Quirrell's wand in his bag. It might not be useful now, but it could have its purposes later.
With the scene thoroughly sanitized, Harry made his way back to the safety of Hogwarts. The immediate dangers had been addressed, and he looked forward to some peace before his departure home.
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