The Boy: Brandon Dursely

Chapter 35: Mister Snape's Adventure

A/N: I guess this is long overdue, but nevertheless, I bid your fogiveness and I hope this chapter is enough to appease you. I love you all, though! Don't forget to tell me what you think ^_^

-------

Could I die?

This was the only question that posed itself in Harry's mind as he was thrown to the air. Voldemort was ruthless; he made Quirinus control Harry's body with the Imperius Curse, and although Harry's mind broke free from the blinding power of the spell, his young body was far too weak to even stand, let alone fight the spell.

"See, Potter: My Lord and Master is powerful! He is magnificent- a true god," there was a small, wistful smile that Quirrel gave off as he continued to spill praises for his 'Lord and Master' over and over again. Harry said nothing. There was no way to refute a man who has been poisoned by interpellation of words, "Bombarda!"

The turbanned professor's wand aimed to the wall, above Harry's head, missing just a little bit. Harry met the spell with unblinking eyes, their green hue undisturbed by the sheer force of the wall that shattered above his head.

At the gaze Harry gave him, Quirrel hissed, "Have you no fear, Potter? This is Lord Voldemort's power. This is my Lord, still a corporeal being. Can you imagine if it was him in his solid state? With his body risen from the grave?" Quirrel laughed, "Oh, of course you won't know that. How silly of me; you won't know of how beautiful and powerful my Lord could become! I will kill you here, in this dank room, and you will be just another pawn sacrificed in his game. Oh, this a tragedy for you, little one."

Harry gave his enemy a smirk. Quirrel was mad, mad, mad- and Harry was finding it amusing, "Come now, Professor," the small young voice croaked, "if your Lord and Master is as great as you deem him to be, why can't he just kill me? Why can't--"

"Shut up!" Fury whirled in Quirrel's eyes. They were sparkling, and those eyes could burn and bore and kill, but Harry was not unfazed. Harry smirked. He could feel Magic in his veins, in his fingers, dying to be unleashed. And then, Harry looked up. He looked straight at Quirinus Quirrel.

His green eyes glimmed as the fire from Quirrel's wand that shot spell after spell missed him again and again.

The Magic was vibrating ever so pleasantly in his palm.

"Shutting me up will never kill me, Professor- and I will make sure that your Lord and your Master- your hellish god will never hurt or kill again!" Harry Potter shouted, his strong, young voice reverberating against the walls of the room they were in.

Quirrel was about to laugh, to mock the boy, when he spotted something different about Potter. As soon as he took notice of it, fear made his knees tremble.

The boy's eyes were the shade of a dragon's: they were in the shade of lavender.

----

Quirrel was there, lying haphazardly, the man's throat held in place by the dark, menacing Sebastian the Direwolf. Harry was there, too. On his left hand was the Stone, the right was encircling around Granger's body. There was blue orb encasing the two students, and Severus does not need to inspect to know that it was an impenetrable Protego. Harry had bruises all of his body- no doubt from Quirrel's onslaught. Granger hid her face in Harry's robes, her shoulders shaking.

Surpringly, everything was so calm. The sound of Quirrel's gurgle as Sebastian the Direwolf bit him more firmly was the only unnerving sound in the room, as if the firmer bite was an assurance that as soon as he would let the man's throat go, Quirrel would be nothing more than a corpse. The man's infernal turban was let down, and sure enough, as Severus suspected, there was the face of the half-life Voldemort, but it was as good as the Host. He was shocked to have seen it there, etched at the back of Quirrel's head. Snape shuddered inwardly at the lengths the Dark Lord's faithful followers go just to serve the monster.