chapter 33

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Little Dragon

Authors Note: Hey everyone! I know, it's been far too long since my last update and there is really no excuse. Yes, life has been hectic, but the fact of the matter is that for a while I had lost my spark. I couldn't find it in myself to write or do anything creative really. But, I am happy to announce that my creative spark is back thanks to my darling Muse Master Pika! :)

So, this is my promise to you on this Christmas day, I shall endeavor to be better. Both in writing and in keeping you all updated and even replying to reviews seeing as I have been remiss in that as well.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and Merry Kwanza my dears!

*WARNING: This chapter gets a little dark, gory and gross in parts… If you have a weak stomach you may want to skim over it. I don't think it's too bad, but then again that's me. There will be more dark parts in future chapters but it will be fairly spread out for a while and I will attempt to give you a warning when I remember.*

Disclaimer: I own only the story idea, original characters, any made up words and my own irritation at myself and Overstock. That is all.

Chapter 33: The Greater Good

Harry panted as the painful curse was once again lifted and his body went limp against the rough stone that made up the chambers floor.

Quirrell was speaking again but Harry just couldn't make himself focus, his body was still shaking from the pain that had just been inflicted upon it and, if he were being honest with himself, Harry didn't really care what the bastard did anymore.

It was obvious that the Defense Professor had gone mental. Who else would go to such obscene lengths just to find out what he saw in a stupid mirror? It was a mirror! All that he was going to see was his own reflection.

With a groan of pain Harry managed to turn his head so that his feverish forehead was pressed against the cool stone floor, the muscles in his body aching in protest.

Quirrell was talking still, his voice an unpleasant drone in the background much like the buzz of a fly inside an otherwise silent room.

Slowly Harry's gaze was drawn to the bracelet resting against his wrist, the jewel now a fiery red which was continuously shifting as though it were attempting to express the anger of the one who's emotions it was linked to but couldn't quite manage.

Looking past his bracelet towards the flame covered doorway Harry couldn't help but think of how pretty the flames looked when they flickered in the draft…

Draft? That wasn't right. The air down here was stagnant and filled with dust motes that tickled his nose and made it increasingly difficult to feel as though he were getting enough air without the pain that racked his body and his continuous screams. There was no possible way for a draft to be down here!

The bracelet that rested on his wrist was getting hotter the longer that his gaze rested on the flame covered doorway. Glancing down at his wrist Harry's eyes widened when he noticed that the stone was beginning to glow. What on earth was going on!?

Once again Harry found himself being hauled to his feet by Quirrel who he vaguely recognized was yet again demanding that he look in the mirror but Harry's gaze was stuck upon the doorway where the flames were nearly extinguished.

He needed to move. Now! He couldn't stay where he was, he needed to find cover! Something was going to happen and he needed to move now!

With a mixture of adrenaline and panic pumping through his veins Harry finally gained the strength to fight the hold that Quirrell had on him.

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