In the Last Second
Quirrell.
“You!”, gasped Harry – very convincingly, he may add. He felt strangely out-of-body as he stepped closer and stood perfectly in the invisible circle on the ground, that encapsulated both him and Quirrell. As he walked, he drew his wand that was in his back pocket and Merlin activated the spellwork with a simple flick of his hand and nothing more than a spark of magic widdling into the rune.
As Quirrell stared darkly at him, he gave no indication that he noticed anything about the runes. He merely looked at his wand with a derogative smile, as if to tell him by his expression alone, that it would be of no use to him. “Me”, he said calmly. “I wondered whether I’d be meeting you here, Potter.”
“You let the troll in on Halloween.” Quirrell looked surprised. “I wondered, after you managed to keep everyone in the Great Hall, if anyone suspected anything. I didn’t think any of the teachers did – except for Severus of course – , but I have to admit you’re a smart one. Got even Dumbledore to care about his students.” Harry said nothing and Quirrell raised an eyebrow mockingly. “What? Nothing to say in defence of your precious headmaster?” “Why would I? I’ve never even met the man. And he apparently didn’t care about us Slytherins or he wouldn’t have tried to send us to our dorms.”
“You’re a curious boy, Potter”, Quirrell said thoughtfully and bared his teeth in a half-assed, terrifying smile. It made Harry want to vomit. Merlin was leaning closer to Quirrell and inspected his turban, sniffing at it extensively. “Honestly, I wish I could still smell the mortal world. What does a half-decayed Dark Lord-corpse smell like?”
“Garlic”, Harry answered without thinking and Quirrell frowned, then did another one of his creepy smiles. “Ah, I knew the students would be curious. Although few are stupid enough to ask what this is all about. I should have known you’d be among them. My master wishes to speak to you, you know? He is curious about what makes you special. What made you –“ “There is nothing special about me”, Harry interrupted him. Quirrell’s brow twitched slightly. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. To determine who’s right, you should have a look in that nice mirror and tell me exactly what you see.” “I know that mirror”, Harry said firmly. “I know what it shows me and it’s private.”
“You will tell me what you see in there”, any flicker of feigned good-will disappeared from Quirrell’s face. Harry felt a shiver prickling in the air. “Oooh, do tease him, please”, Merlin said with glee and an evil smirk. “I want to see whether that vein on his forehead or Voldemort’s head bursts from frustration first.” Harry ignored him. “Now, Potter!”
Harry decided to humour him and stepped in front of the mirror, watching Quirrell out of the corner of his eye to make sure he stayed in the rune circle. It was because of that, that Harry didn’t pay that much attention to the actual reflection and flinched when he saw what was there: It was Death, fully cloaked in their iridescent white-black cloak. On their right there was Merlin, smirking knowingly, and on their left there were his parents, holding hands and smiling at Death as if they were an old friend. Behind them there were many people: First Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw, together with a plump witch with brown hair and a kind face and a tall grown, red-haired man who stood there with his hand on the hilt of a silvery shimmering sword. Behind them there were even more people; Sirius, Remus, Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna – Harry averted his eyes subtly. His breathing was going wild.
He didn’t understand. He had looked into the mirror several times during his first year at Hogwarts. He hadn’t this time around, because he had been sure of what he would see, but apparently that had been a mistake. It was quite obvious now that he thought about it, but what wasn’t obvious to him was, how his greatest desire could be to see all of his loved ones dead. Because this was what he inferred from what he saw; Why else would they all calmly stand around Death, as if they had known them for years?
“Well?”, Quirrell said impatiently. ”What do you see?” Merlin was watching Harry from a few feet away, curiously glancing between Harry and Quirrell.
“I see my parents. They’re smiling at me.”
Quirrell cursed. “Get out of the way”, he said and shoved Harry aside. “Asshole!”, Merlin shouted at him, but of course neither Quirrell nor Voldemort heard anything of that. “No, no… Master, I need your help!”
Harry dreaded what he knew was coming next. But in an ill twist of fate he also anticipated it with a sick feeling of excitement
“Let me speak to him… face-to-face…” Just like the last time Quirrell argued that he wasn’t strong enough, but that didn’t matter to Voldemort: “I have strength enough… for this…” Again, Harry watched as Quirrell unwrapped his turban and revealed white, snake-like face with glaring red eyes that have haunted Harry in his sleep for so many years. “Ew”, Merlin muttered.
“Harry Potter”, Voldemort whispered avidly. “See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor… I have form only when I can share another’s body… but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds… Unicorn blood has strengthened me these past weeks, but to create a body of my own I need something different.”
“The Philosopher’s Stone”, Harry said grimly and Voldemort sneered. “Smart boy. Now, why don’t you put that mind of yours to good use and help me decipher this mirror. We could work together, you know. I see great potential in you.” “Yes! The potential to kick your ass!”, Merlin yelled and Harry tried to keep it together and not let any kind of amusement show on his face. “I won’t help you”, Harry said firmly. “And I won’t ever help you. There is nothing you can promise me, that will change my mind.”
“How heroic”, Voldemort hissed mockingly. “I always value bravery. Yes, boy, your parents were brave… I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight… but your mother needn’t have died… she was trying to protect you…” “Yes, she did”, Harry gritted through his teeth. “And that will be your downfall”, Merlin added grimly and bared his teeth at Voldemort. “She was foolish”, Voldemort continued darkly. “Foolish to believe she could stand in my way without paying the consequences.”
“She knew the consequences all right”, Harry said, anger burning hot in his chest. “She just loved me more than she feared you. And that is something you will never be able to understand.”
Voldemort sneered and Harry knew his patience had waned. So he adjusted his stand and then whipped out his wand, throwing a full-body bind at Quirrell, who was barely able to deflect it in the last moment. There was a flicker of surprise on his face, before his expression turned grim. Merlin cheered him on in the background, throwing insults at both Voldemort and Quirrell.
“You think you can beat me in a duel?”, Quirrell mocked him, while Harry tried to get a grip on his anger. “You are talented in your defence classes, I can’t deny that… But a first-year can’t defeat the Dark Lord and his faithful servant. I taught you everything you know!”
“We’ll see about that.”
“I wish you’d let me throw a spell or two in there”, Merlin said wistfully. He was sitting on the stone settle mounted to the wall, flailing his feet. Harry wished so as well, but at this point he wouldn’t be able to defeat Voldemort entirely and it wouldn’t be smart to make him suspicious of Harry’s abilities more than necessary.
So Harry evaded and deflected spells for the most part. He didn’t use a shield spell, but levitated different objects in the way to block them and hid behind different objects. His heart was racing, but despite that he felt strangely calm. It was lucky for him, that Quirrell didn’t even try to use the killing curse – probably because he was afraid of what might happen if it hit Harry. So when Voldemort yelled to “Kill him!” Harry felt oddly smug, when Quirrell seized towards him and pinned him to the ground, with his hands on his neck. Harry’s scar wasn’t hurting, which was a strange sensation – or the lack thereof – in and of itself. But another thing that was missing was… his air! Quirrell was squeezing harder and harder and Harry’s lungs were craving for air. Why didn’t he let go? Why wasn’t he getting burned? Why wasn’t his mother’s love protecting him?
He felt panic, true and utter panic, which he hadn’t expected. Distantly he heard Merlin yelling something, but couldn’t exactly make out what. He saw black spots dancing in his peripheral vision and he was sure he was going to pass out any second.
His thoughts were with his mother, but he couldn’t gather the mental strength to summon her here, to stand by his side, and protect him once more. There was no way he had the strength to physically fight Quirrell off and he wouldn’t be able to magically best him either in this situation, so he did the only thing he could think off and with his last bit of breath and a terribly croaky and husky voice he called out: “M-Merlin” and as soon as he did, there was a loud crash and a groan and Harry did a huge intake of breath, that burned in his throat and his lungs, and the blackspots were disappearing from his vision.
“You idiot!”, Merlin yelled. He was kneeling next to him, checking on his neck. Harry could only hear every other word or so because of a soft buzzing in his ears. “… almost died… choke… death… stupid!... you thinking!... helped you earlier!”
Harry picked himself up slowly and looked for Quirrell, who was lying on the ground, picking himself up as well. They were standing up simultaneously, staring each other in the eye. “What kind of magic is this!”, Quirrell hissed. Harry coughed. “A kind neither of you will ever understand!”
Voldemort snarled. “There is no magic in the world I’m unable to perform!”
The moment Voldemort took complete control of Quirrell was unmistakable: His whole body tensed up and became stiff, Quirrell’s eyes glowed red and his mouth warped into a sickening grit of his teeth. He raised his hands and Harry made himself ready counter another attack, but suddenly the air was prickling and the flames of the torches grew ten times their size and above, until their reached the high ceiling of the room. “Holy shit”, Merlin muttered and then looked at Harry. “What now?”
Harry wasn’t sure. He could already see the flames hurling at him and somehow he knew he would be able to shield himself, but only if he laid down his cards and showed his abilities to Voldemort. Just when he had made his decision and was ready to stand his ground, there was a booming voice behind him, shouting: “Enough!” and a huge gush of icy water washed over all of them, extinguishing any flame.
“No!”, Voldemort howled. “I will have my revenge! This isn’t the last you’ve seen of me!” And with that, the ghostly, non-corporate shape of Voldemort left Quirrell’s body, who was falling to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. He headed straight for the nearest wall and went right through it, leaving nothing behind that let one even assume he had been here.
“Harry, my boy!”
“Talk about appearing at the last minute”, Merlin said and eyed Dumbledore minutely. “I like his style, do you think I could pull off this blue and gold thing?”
“Professor Dumbledore”, Harry said, still slightly out of breath. “What are you doing here?” Dumbledore chuckled. “Well, my boy, I could ask you the same thing”, his expression turned serious for a moment. “Did he hurt you?”, he inspected Harry’s neck from a distance, but Harry knew there were probably already marks there, telling of what had happened. “We should have Madame Pompfrey take a look at that.”
“What about Voldemort? Will he hurt the other students? And Quirrell, he –“, with a flick of his wand Dumbledore had Quirrell bound. It seemed to have taken a toll on Quirrell’s body, how Voldemort had suddenly left his body and he didn’t stir, but Harry was fairly sure he saw his chest rise and fall. “We need to make sure you are well first”, Dumbledore said calmly. “Come with me.”
Harry decided it wasn’t worth the argument. And it was unlikely, that Voldemort would try anything with Dumbledore back in the castle and him still being in this weakened state.
««»»
It was well in the night, when they walked through the castle on their way to the Hospital Wing, so luckily there were no students roaming the halls. They did cross paths with Nick at one point, but as soon as he saw Harry, he turned and fled. Dumbledore didn’t take note of that other than a slightly raised eyebrow.
When they arrived at the Hospital Wing, Dumbledore – like any other person in this castle – knocked and waited for Madame Pompfrey to open the door. “Oh my”, she said, when she laid her eyes on Harry and immediately beckoned him in. Dumbledore followed at a leisurely pace.
“Albus! Explain!”, she demanded as soon as she had forced Harry onto one of the beds. It was a rare sight to see Albus Dumbledore flustered and Harry enjoyed the moment. “Now look, Poppy, it’s a delicate matter that –“ “Voldemort possessed Professor Quirrell and he tried to kill me to get to the Philosopher’s Stone and become immortal.”
Both stared at him. Madame Pompfrey looked close to fainting. “I knew having the damn stone here would bring nothing but trouble, Albus!”, she chastised him and hit him on the arm lightly. “I apologize, Poppy. Would you give us a moment while you brew that wonderful salve of yours?”
Madame Pompfrey huffed indignantly, but got to work anyway – probably because she was now seriously worried about Harry’s health.
“Harry, my boy –“ “How did no one know Voldemort was here?”, Harry interrupted him and Dumbledore sighed. “As much as it pains me to admit it, even I don’t know anything. I knew the stone would present a challenge, for sure. But I wouldn’t have thought Voldemort would come here personally.”
Harry squinted. He prided himself on knowing more about Dumbledore than most people by now and he knew he was lying. “Liar.”
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. Even though he tried to hide it, he saw a tint of surprise there. “Why would you assume I was lying, Harry? You must know I have all my students’ best interest at heart.”
“Of course you have. But then I’m not like any other student, am I? Tonight proved that.”
Well, apparently Dumbledore didn’t know how to argue with that. “Is there… anything you’d like to tell me?” Harry wasn’t ashamed to admit he did consider it. Trusting in Dumbledore was almost like second nature by now. “Perhaps another day. But not for now. For now just know, that I’m here to help and to right a few wrongs that have occurred.”
“Indeed”, Dumbledore said, and fixated his gaze on Harry’s. Harry averted his eyes. “Using Legilimency on students is prohibited”, he said. Dumbledore didn’t answer anything, but Harry saw his gaze soften slightly and he knew he wasn’t trying to read his mind anymore. “Besides, what you would have seen there, probably wouldn’t have made much sense to you.” Harry lolled around on the bed and made himself comfortable. “And Pompfrey should be back to fuss over me in about –“
“Now, Albus, I gave you two ample opportunity, but I must insist you leave us alone now. Mister Potter needs rest and quiet, so shoo!” Dumbledore chuckled. “Of course, Poppy. Pardon me. As for Mister Potter… I doubt this will be our last conversation.”
Harry smiled with his lips tightly shut. “It won’t. Good day, headmaster.” Dumbledore nodded and left the Hospital Wing.
As soon as he was out of the room, Pompfrey rushed over to him and talked him through a salve she applied on his neck. It was amazing, how quickly it did its work. “How does it feel?”, she asked and Harry was surprised to find that it didn’ hurt to talk at all, when he answered her a serious “Great”. She nodded pleased and went on to examine him further. “What you just said, about Voldemort –“, Pompfrey said hesitatingly, but then stopped, as if she just remembered to control her curiosity.
“He didn’t curse me or anything”, Harry said to appease her. “I’m nimble, he didn’t hit me. And he fled when Dumbledore came, so I’m good.”
Pompfrey shook her head subtly. “That’s not what I wanted to ask. I wanted to ask… are you okay? Mentally? What happened tonight must have been a lot on you. Not just because of your injuries. So I want you to know, that I’m sworn to secrecy and won’t be disclosing anything happening in here. In other words, if you want to talk about what happened down there, maybe rip into some of the stupid decisions the headmaster did hiding the stone down there, I’ll listen.”
Harry couldn’t help but grin at the jab towards Dumbledore. “Thank you, Madame Pompfrey. Maybe I’ll get back to you on that.” Pompfrey smiled kindly. “Of course, dear. Now, I’ll be in my office and prepare another salve that will soothe your neck, meanwhile do your best to rest, yes?”
“Of course, Madame Pompfrey.”
She watched him suspiciously, as she went into her office and maybe she was right to do so, because as soon as the door closed, Harry called on his mother with the ease one had with it who had done it regularly and in the blink of an eye his mum was standing before him, tears in her eyes.
“Oh, baby. What happened down there? I couldn’t see everything –“ He hugged her tightly. He hadn’t even known he’d needed it until now, but suddenly everything that had happened tonight was coming to the surface.
“It didn’t work. The- the protection, your protection, it didn’t work.”