Capítulo 15: Chapter 015
As soon as the trio passed over the threshold into the next room, flames sprang up covering both the way in and the way out. One set of flames burned purple and the other was jet black.
"Well," Neville said swallowing nervously and staring between the two walls of fire, "this could be a problem."
"Look," Hermione unwrapped herself from Harry's arm and strode over to a small table in the middle of the room. "Harry, Neville, come here. This looks like a riddle of some sort."
"Hermione, is this a logic puzzle?" Harry asked looking over her shoulder at a note placed in front of the series of potion bottles.
"I believe so," Hermione commented absently reading over the list of clues several times. "Give me a minute."
Neville ran a hand through his hair. "That's a really good idea actually…we wizards aren't exactly known for our logical abilities are we?"
"Not from what I've seen," Harry muttered. His eyes widened and he looked at Neville stricken. "S-sorry, Neville! I, um, I didn't – "
"It's fine, Harry. I've been hanging around you two long enough to figure out that much at least," his friend replied with a sad chuckle. "I'm trying to work on it."
"Got it!" Hermione crowed. She pointed out several of the bottles. "This bottle will take us back the way we came. These three are poison. These two are the wine, and this one," she held up the smallest bottle, "will take us forward."
"It looks like only one dose…" Harry said taking the bottle from Hermione.
"Well considering none of the bottles appear to have been used already, they likely refill after several minutes." She paused and chewed her lip. "Or…Professor Snape used a flame freezing charm."
"Okay." Harry nodded. "You two take the one the other one and head back to meet up with Shiva and Dumbledore. I'll keep going and try to delay Snape."
"Maybe we should all just wait here," Neville said with a frown. "I don't like the idea of you going ahead alone."
Hermione's lips were quivering and her eyes were watering. "There's nothing we can say that will make you wait is t-there?" Harry shook his head with his mouth set in thin line. Hermione threw her arms around him and crushed him in a huge hug. "You come back you h-hear me! You come back!"
"I'll do my best, Hermione," Harry said squeezing her back. "Nev, make sure she stays safe."
"I will, Harry." Neville clapped a hand onto Harry's back and gently pulled Hermione off him. "Be careful, mate." Harry nodded in reply, tipped back the potion bottle and strode through the flames into the next room.
"Professor Quirrell?" Harry blurted out incredulously as he saw the man standing in the middle of the final room. Quirrell was scowling at a mirror set up dead center in the small room and barely even took notice of Harry entering behind him.
"Potter. I really shouldn't be surprised about this. You and your little friends have been rather annoying this year," Quirrell sneered, all traces of the usual stuttering gone from his voice.
"But – but – no! This isn't right, Snape is the one who's trying to steal the Stone!"
"Yes, he really does seem to fit the mold doesn't he? Who would ever suspect poor traumatized Quirrell when the sneering bat is making himself such a tempting target? I would've probably thanked him had he not made this so difficult!"
Harry had his wand on Quirrell but he had no idea what he should be doing at this point. While Professor Flitwick had taught him the basics of the disarming and stunning spell Harry still wasn't particularly good with them and he knew he would stand no chance against a fully qualified adult wizard. 'Shiva is coming soon,' Harry thought. 'All you have to do is stall!'
"But…Snape was trying to kill me at the Quidditch game!" Harry managed to yell out.
"Oh no, I was the one trying to kill you, boy," Quirrell laughed. The sound was hollow and it sent chills down Harry's spine. "Severus was trying to save you. Muttering his annoying little counter-curse. He certainly hates you just like your father before you. I don't expect he wishes you dead though. Or at the very least he wishes to do it himself."
'Neville knocked Quirrell over to try and distract Snape.' Harry's mind was spinning. He cast about trying to find something else, anything else, something to keep him distracted.
"What about the troll? Did you let that in the castle too then?"
"Oh course. I even managed to place some bait near that foolish little girl. Shame the Muggle-born survived. I surely would've had more than enough time to retrieve the Stone before this addition had she been a good little girl and died like she was supposed to."
Harry's vision tinged with red and his hand clenched on his wand. This…man…had deliberately tried to kill Hermione! Harry's rage built and with a roar he yelled out, "Expelliarmus! Stupefy!" Two jets of red light burst from Harry's wand in quick succession. Quirrell twirled as Harry first opened his mouth and erected a shield. His face jerked in surprise as Harry's second spell shattered the shield but he flicked his wand at the student before Harry could take advantage of the opening. Ropes wrapped around him and Harry snarled incoherently at Quirrell.
"Let…me…speak with…the boy," a hissing voice sounded throughout the small room. Harry stopped struggling and felt his scar start to burn.
"But, Master, you – "
"Silence, Quirinus!" Quirrell immediately shut his mouth and turned his back to Harry. With a muttered, "Yes, Master," the man began unwrapping his turban. As the cloth fell away, Harry recoiled in horror and pain as his scar beat a drumbeat of pain through his skull.
Protruding from the back of Quirrell's head was a face from a nightmare. Narrow, red eyes. Slits for a nose, a too wide mouth. It was vaguely snake-like and a name drifted up through Harry's memory. "Voldemort," he breathed out.
"Very good…boy. I admit…you are…stronger than I had…expected."
"How is this…?"
"My servant has failed me…one too many times…he needed to be watched…more closely…after his failure at…Gringotts. Too long have I…remained weak…thanks to you and…your mother. But now…with the Elixir…I will regain my body. Quirinus…use him."
"Come here, boy!" Quirrell shouted flicking his wand at Harry. Harry flew towards Quirrell and stopped directly in front of the mirror. "Tell me what you see!"
'Lie! Lie!' Harry thought desperately as he looked into the mirror. A quick glance up and he found the familiar markings of the Mirror of Erised stenciled into the frame. 'How does this help? I couldn't get the Stone from this thing even if I wanted to!' Harry hadn't even finished the thought before his gaze from drawn back down to the Mirror by a quick movement. His phantom self in the reflection was unbound and holding up a hand. That hand was clenched around a blood red stone that almost seemed to pulse from within. The Phantom-Harry smiled at him and dropped his hand into his pocket before vanishing. Harry felt a weight settle against his leg as the images of his dead family again floated into view in the reflection.
"Well! What do you see, Potter!"
"I see…my family," Harry whispered. "I see my mum and my dad and sisters and grandparents."
"Too…easy. He…lies!" Voldemort hissed.
"Tell me where the Stone is, Potter!" Quirrell yelled and flicked him around to stare at the older man again.
"Come…Potter. Tell me where it is. Do not be like…your mother," Voldemort breathed out. "I gave her the chance…to stand aside. All I wanted…was you. I would have spared her then. I will spare you now. Just tell me…where is the Stone!"
"Bullshite! I'll never tell you!"
"He has it on him! Seize him, Quirinus!"
Quirrell lunged at Harry. As soon as the man's hands touched Harry's skin, the ropes dissolved, an acrid burning smell spilt into the air and both Harry and Quirrell screamed in pain. Quirrell fell back, holding up his hands in shock as his skin was burnt black. Harry collapsed to his knees and dropped his wand but, thankfully his own skin was unmarred. "Master, I cannot touch him!" Quirrell whimpered.
"Then kill him you fool and take the Stone from his corpse!"
"No!" Harry snarled at Quirrell and Voldemort. He didn't have time to lunge for his wand – it had rolled too far away. Instead he jumped forward and wrapped his hands around Quirrell's throat. Both screamed in pain and this time Voldemort's shriek joined in as well. Harry felt Quirrell's skin under his hands boil and his scar felt like it was almost going to split in two but he held on. He held on as the man beneath him flailed. He held on as his vision darkened.
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