บท 15: 15
When Snape and Quirrell returned three days later, Henry looked closely at them for burns, bruises and fangs.
But no. Alive and well, well-fed and uninspired.
Though Snape looked very much like a vampire, he could pick on every Goth, couldn't he? But not every Goth would suck the blood out of his pupils like that. On the other hand, he had not been very fond of Henry lately, except...
- Potter, will you be long?
- Yes, sir.
After escorting the students out, Snape stared at Henry with his trademark boa-constipated look.
- Potter, what happened in the woods?
If he asks, was he not there? Or was he ducking his head?
- There was a fire. But it's all being put out? Why?
- I'm interested in who you met in the woods.
- A creature.
- What creature, Potter?
- According to the Centaurs from the castle. Professor, has anyone else escaped from the menagerie?
- No, Potter.
- Do we even have a creature at Hogwarts?
Snape seemed to have something on his tongue, "Apart from you, Potter?" Henry fluttered his eyelashes intensely.
- No, Potter. The scariest thing about Hogwarts is the students.
- And the troll?
- The one that didn't survive meeting you?
- ...
- By the way, did the creature survive it?
- I don't know. Needed to catch up and ask.
- You, Potter, you'll ruin anyone you want.
- Who do you want to kill with my help, sir?
Henry showed a willingness to help in any way he could. So...
- Go on, Potter...
In your dreams.
- Sir, I have a little potions question...
Snape groaned. The question was far from his first - and from previous experience, not a small one. It was his last class, so the little monster would be stuck with him for two hours.
And he had the nerve to ask...
****
- Henry, stay, please.
- Yes, Professor Quirrell.
- Henry, are you sure you don't need my help?
- For what, sir?
- They say you were sent to the Forbidden Forest for an internship...
- Oh, it was an internship?
- D-Director...
Henry would have said Hu, the director, but he had to keep quiet. Well...
- No, sir. Thank you, sir.
- Henry, can you tell me what you saw in the woods?
- The stars. The moon. Trees. Centaurs.
- Is that all?
- Hagrid and a dog. Why?
- There's more...
- The headmaster forbade me to tell you. He says it's classified. Why don't we go and see him? - Henry lied with a straight face.
- N-no. What's the point of not...
- I don't think so, either. May we go, sir?
- Y-yes, Henry... but if there's anything...
- As soon as possible! And by all means! And right away! You know that, don't you? Well, just shh!
And Henry hurried out the door.
Whether Quirrell realized he was being mocked remained a mystery. But...
****
- Henry, what is Boggart afraid of?
Henry rubbed his forehead.
He didn't know, didn't know what the thing was afraid of. It's like it feeds on other people's fears, but what it's scared of... never got past it. No, we haven't...
- I don't remember, professor.
- Oh, come on, it's elementary knowledge, Henry.
- Elementary to whom, sir?
- For all wizards, Henry.
Hermione almost jumped up and down and held out her hand. And she wasn't the only one.
- I was brought up with Muggles, sir.
- Even I knew that! - Ron shouted. - Boggart is afraid of laughter!
- You see, Henry.
- See what? Ron was raised in a wizarding family, and I was raised in a Muggle family. What's elementary to you is dark to me. And anyway, sir, could you give the subject first and ask it later?
Henry's reverence for teachers was forever stripped away by Liz's constant reiteration that teachers are just like people. They drink, they eat... and even - yes! They go to the bathroom! This means they can be wrong, are just in a bad mood, or need to learn something... in short, don't rely on someone else's authority! Use your own brains!
Which Henry did just now, talking to Quirrell.
The professor frowned.
- So, then, Henry. Your personal assignment is to read everything about Boggarts. Minus five points from Ravenclaw.
- Yes, sir.
Goat. A whinny and a stammer.
The disgusted mood was exacerbated by a glowering Ron, who clapped Henry on the shoulder.
- Oh, come on! It's so easy! It's so easy!
- Easy for you; how am I supposed to know that? If it wasn't already on the syllabus?
- You're a Ravenclaw, Henry. There's a list of additional recommended readings," Hermione cut in. The chunky little shaggy-haired girl clearly liked Ron - and she never let up on him, though, in her own way, constantly lecturing and meddling in his conversations. - And there she was, in the sixty-seventh book, "About Ghosts..."
- Piss off, eh?
- Henry, you can't behave like that! I'm a girl!
- You're a self-winding itch.
Ron laughed obscenely. Hermione sighed.
- Henry, I understand entirely. Your behaviour is indicative of emotional deficits and severe psychological trauma from childhood...
And what could Henry have said?
- Fool.
Turning and walking away.
Ron laughed loudly behind me.
Wait a minute, you walking orange! Vindictiveness and vindictiveness are qualities of any actual chemist!
****
The revenge plan took a long time to form. In the evening, Ron started searching all over Hogwarts for his rat. Apparently, he'd caught it from Neville.
Henry ate dinner, went to his room, stroked Mick habitually, and reached into his nightstand. The super grain mix he'd bought specifically for the rat.
Liz paid for the purchase as a gift.
It cost a fortune, but the rat was growing as if he were trying to reach a mathematically perfect shape without any trouble with his teeth or fur.
Only a handful a day - and it was dwindling too fast.
Oops!?
A second rat, caught across the body, fluttered about in Henry's hands.
- Scumbag... You bastard! That's who's been stealing my food!
Mick squealed belligerently. Having come to his senses, Henry shoved the intruder into the cage and stroked Chemist.
- Hold on, boy. He'll stop stealing from us.
****
Ron's rat Henry intended to drop him off tonight. Better still, towards nightfall. Until then, the rat, securely bound in a spell of immobility, lay in Henry's pocket.
Alas - first, Henry was distracted by Flitwick, then he chatted with the boys, and just before curfew Snape caught his eye. Though it was a matter of who was captured by who.
Snape broke free from the clinging grip of the boy who survived and wanted anything question questioning, reminding him that it was past lights out - and Henry had to return to the Ravenclaw tower.
To head to the Gryffindor dormitory in another hour.
To drop off a surprise.
But no.
Henry had barely had time to hide behind his armour when three people came out of the Gryffindor lounge.
Ron, Hermione, Neville?
What a combination, huh?
- Let's go! Let's go! Anyway, are you my friend or what?
Hermione spoke assertively and harshly. Ron nodded in agreement, and Neville nodded shyly.
Henry wondered.
Where are they going?
Shall we follow?
And the Lad...
Ah, the hell with it. Enough spell for another hour, then we'll throw him out. Let him get his own way.
And Henry quietly followed the trio.
To the Forbidden Corridor. Oh, dear...
A door creaked open, and a lullaby sounded. Henry wrinkled his nose. Clearly, Hermione was singing - and damn, the poor dog! He could fall asleep to this, enough to keep him awake and plague him with nightmares. Either the girl's singing or someone's been pinched... Ehhh.
But the song worked because then I heard...
- Move it.
- Oh, there's a hatch.
- Climb in?
- Oh, maybe... - it's clearly Neville.
- You want to be alone with the dog? Then get in!
Henry scowled.
Go after them? It couldn't get any stupider than that. Then again, it was his barricade. Where these three fools go, he goes. And if one of them gets hurt... what if they need help?
He's got sleeping pills, laxatives, you name it...
And curious...
Henry waited until the noise died down, then took a bottle of chloroform from the medicine cabinet, estimated the dosage - and spat. It was a lot for a man anyway, but for such a carcass, it would take more.
Shall we go, Mr. Potter?
Fuzzy twitched unhappily when a chloroform-soaked handkerchief was placed on his face - and then he relaxed again.
Henry slid down the hatch.
- Fucking hell!
Tentacles darted toward him, reaching around, pulling...
- Devil's trap! Shit!
Henry cautiously reached into the bag.
- Aha, come here, dearie!
The vial of concentrated sulfuric acid seemed to leap into his hand.
- Pesticide, damn you!
The corrosive liquid poured down, hitting the floor and tentacles... It didn't take much.
Quickly realizing that the prey was terrible, the tentacles loosened - and Henry flattened on his ass.
- It hurt, damn it. Bearded goat.
Why did the goat get hurt? Well, Henry had his suspicions about a particular trap designer. But we had to go ahead and catch up with the boys.
The next room pleased Henry with a flock of agitated birds or insects. They skittered around the room, and most got stuck in the door.
However, when a new face appeared, the herd rushed toward him.
Henry held the bug spray before him and pressed generously on the sprayer.
- Pyro!
A tongue of fire lunged forward. Keys rattled on the floor.
- That's right... there's a lot of flying around.
He walked to the next door, unobstructed, and peered inside.
There was much to see. Ron was playing chess. A step, another... Besides the pieces, all the students were on the board; Ron was giving commands - and everyone was moving. Henry sighed.
He wondered how long this would take.
All right, we'll wait.
The wait was short. Ron quickly stepped off the board, and Hermione and Neville moved across the room. Bloody hell!
At least they could have helped their mate, the idiots.
But Henry was in no hurry to get out. And rightly so because preventing the boys from passing, scarlet flames erupted in front of them.
He saw the boys argue in front of the two vials, and then Hermione drank some potion and stepped into the fire. Neville turned back to Ron.
Just then, Henry entered the room.
- Hello, dummies.
- Potter?!
Neville didn't even notice the rudeness, so surprised was he.
- Where are you from?!
- Over there. Where did that fool go?
- To get the Philosopher's Stone.
- The what?!
- We figured Dumbledore hid the Philosopher's Stone here. And today, Snape decided to steal it. So we thought...
- Right - idiots," sighed Henry. - Right. Here's the ammonia; here's the painkiller. Can you give me a shot?
- N-no...
- Ugh.
Without thinking twice, Henry turned Ron on his back - and jammed the syringe right through his clothes. Ron groaned. It's okay; a bruise on his ass'll do it. And the infirmary will fix it, that's all.
- Give him some smelling salts, and he'll come round. And get out of here before you get burned.
- Y-you?
- I'm off to deal with the third idiot. I hope she's not poisoned.
- But there's flames?!
- Pfft.
Flame or no flame, you can't fight a sheet of asbestos. It'll cover it briefly, but that's all it'll do.
Where did the asbestos come from?
Same place, from the bag. There are things you can't put out with fire extinguishers, just cut off their air supply. Otherwise, you could burn yourself. So I had to...
Henry was stung by the heat for a moment, but the flames must have just dissipated. Then he dashed into the room.
- Who's that?
- Potter in the coat. Did you want to see me?
Henry was no less surprised to find a stunned (literally) Hermione, a big mirror, and Quirrell inside.
- N-no. Wh-what are you-what are you doing here?!
- I'm getting that stupid girl. I'll get it, and you two have fun," Henry assured him.
- No!!! Henry, it's Voldemort! He's going for the stone!!!
Oh, crap!!!
No, why hasn't she been silenced yet?!
- Really, Voldemort? Isn't he dead?
There was nothing else for Henry to do. After such revelations, it was unlikely they would let them go. So at least make it clear...
- Show him...
A voice came from somewhere off Quirrell but without the stutter.
- But... but... master...
- Show him!
Quirrell dutifully uncoiled the turban.
- "I'll get it and show you" took on a new connotation; Henry couldn't help himself.
Quirrell and Hermione's stunned eyes were his reward. And the turban unwound and unwound. And finally...
Quirrell spun around his axis. Henry's hand dived into the bag... damn, they missed in shock!
Aimed for the bag, hit the pocket. And there was plenty to daze about. From the back of Quirrell's head, a flat, red-eyed face with serpentine nostril slits was staring at Henry.
- Harry Potter..." it hissed.
- Henry," the boy corrected mechanically.
- Do you see what I have become? - asked the face. - A shadow, a ghost... I can only exist in someone else's body... Fortunately, there have always been those willing to let me into their brain and heart... The unicorn blood has strengthened me these days... In the woods, you saw the faithful Quirrel drinking it instead of me... And he even managed to maim my servant! But now that I have the Elixir of Life, I can make my own body... so...
- So, catch!
It was unclear what Voldemort was expecting. But indeed, not a rat flew toward him. A bald one, with a sort of turban taped to its head and green lettering on its bald side that reads, "Ja prahwessar Quirrell.
Everyone was dumbfounded.
Hermione - she just stood there like a log.
Voldemort - standing with his back to his opponent wasn't much help.
And even the rat. But she was the quickest to recover.
Shock, or-or perhaps it was just time-the immobilization wore off. The rat hit Voldemort in the nostril area, screeching and clawing at something, crawling slightly, but coming to its senses quickly, it sprinted away, stinking, fertilizing Voldemort's bald head. Claws are clawing at everything in their path, and not a few of them.
Voldemort howled, either in pain or shock. Rats had hardly ever managed to shit on him in his life.
Henry wasted no time, either. Following the rat flew Hermione.
He couldn't reach Voldemort alone, but he could shove the girl, so she flew into the great villain.
And she did.
And Quirrell rammed his forehead safely into the mirror he was in front of.
There was a ringing sound. And then a wild howl.
Magical mirrors are not meant to be broken. And when one is unlucky...
- Yeah, it's not two or twenty; it must be a thousand," Henry muttered as he watched Quirrell's body writhing in a magical fire. Then he walked over and held out his hand to Hermione.
- Get up.
The villain howled so that the remaining shards crumbled.
- Henry?!
Henry, without thinking long, pulled the girl to her feet.
- You all right? Let's go!
- Henry, but...
- Do you want to play the sister of Mercy?
Hermione swallowed. It seemed her stupidity had limits, too. A good kick secured the positive effect - and she made her way back much quicker, first out the door and then quickly running down the corridor.
Henry ensured that neither Neville nor Ron was anywhere else - and went after her.
Voldemort?
What the hell with it!
Let the school authorities deal with him.
Alas...
No sooner had he emerged from the hatch than he stumbled upon a white beard and a pile of stars.
- Mr. Potter, what are you doing here?
- Headmaster? Hello! You've got Voldemort running around in there! Would you like to come down and have a look?
Dumbledore's glasses fell off his nose. Snape, standing beside him, barely had time to pick up his jaw.
- Potter?! What are you carrying?!
- I wasn't carrying anything; she got there alone," Henry retorted, looking at Hermione. - Hey, Initiative, is Voldemort there?!
- Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa....
Hermione burst into tears, throwing herself into hysterics as she went. It seemed to have dawned on her that WHO had nearly ruined her. Henry snorted.
- There, you see.
- Headmaster, we must go downstairs," Snape sighed.
- Off you go, Mr Potter. Just escort Miss Granger to sickbay first.
Henry could do with a slap or two. The rest will heal itself. Then again, she had been in contact with Voldemort. What if he's contagious? Lichen, perhaps? From the looks of it, yes!
So Henry elbowed the girl, dragged her past the soundly sleeping dog, and made for the infirmary. He wondered if he would get any sleep tonight.
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