𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔 ☆ 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑦𝑛 𝑃𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝑌𝐸𝐴𝑅 𝑂𝑁𝐸 ☆ 16

It was Quirrel. And he was standing right in front of the Mirror of Erised.

"You?" Rosalyn bust out, angered for a reason she didn't know. Quirrel quickly turned round, his face was impassive and that only made her rage go further. "No! It's not you! Snape was the one that- he was the one-"

"Yes, Severus, he does seem like the type, doesn't he?" Quirrel said in a smug tone. "And next to him, who would suspect p-p-p-poor s-st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrel?" He put on a fake stutter, had he been pretending this whole time?

"But that day! During the quidditch match, Snape tried to kill me!" Harry, who had been quiet so far, yelled at the man in the purple turban.

"No boy, I tried to kill you! And if Snape's robe hadn't set on fire and broke my eye contact, I would have succeeded! Even with Snape muttering his counter-curse," Quirrel said resentfully.

Rosalyn and Harry gasped and looked at each other, of all the possibilities they had thought of throughout the entire ordeal, this wasn't one of them.

"Snape tried to save me?"

"I knew you two were a danger to me right from the off, especially after Halloween," he said slyly.

"Then you let the troll in!" Rosalyn gasped.

"Yes, Snape, unfortunately wasn't fooled, when everyone else was running about the dungeons he went to the third floor to head me off. He of course, never trusted me again, barely left me alone," he turned to the mirror, and that was when Rosalyn grabbed her forearm and Harry his forehead, their scars were burning, but Quirrel was still muttering to himself. "But he doesn't understand, I'm never alone, never..."

He was annoyed with himself, and said. "Now what does this damned mirror do? I see what I desire, I see myself holding the stone, but how do I get it?"

A voice suddenly resonated throughout the chamber. "Use the boy, and the girl as well, yes, prioritize her."

Quirrel nodded and said. "Yes, yes, MISS POTTER, COME HERE!" He yelled, and Rosalyn slowly left Harry, and walked over to beside Quirrel. He shoved her harshly in front of the mirror, she stumbled but regained her footing to hear Quirrel say. "Tell me, what do you see?"

In the mirror, Rosalyn saw herself, she looked the same, but with one difference, she was recieving something from her picked, and the something, she presumed, was the philosopher's stone. She gasped at the image, and took a scared breath, Quirrel couldn't know what she was feeling.

The double of her in the mirror put the stone back in her pocket, and put a finger to her lips, Rosalyn knew she wouldn't feel anything, but she put a hand to her pocket.

Her head snapped up, something was in there, and it was the stone. How could it be anything else. Harry came over, and to Rosalyn's surprise, Quirrel didn't object. He was too fixated on the mirror.

"What do you see, girl?" He asked, Rosalyn had to make up a spur of the moment story.

"I'm shaking hands with Dumbledore," she lied smoothly. "I've won the house cup for Gryffindor, and the quidditch one as well!"

Harry looked alarmed as the same voice said. "She lies..."

Quirrel looked alarmed. "TELL THE TRUTH, WHAT DO YOU SEE?"

"I need to see her," The voice begged.

"Master, you are not strong enough," Quirrel reasoned.

"I have enough strength for this."

So, without another word, Quirrel started to unfurl his turban, and with every unwind, Rosalyn grew more afraid of what was underneath it. If it managed to talk, what else could it do?