The new Dark Lord of Slytherin

Chapter 22

It was Quirrell.

"Hello Professor," Harry said, hands behind his back as he slowly walked down the stairs towards Quirrell who seemed to be smirking.

"Hello, Mr Potter," he said, still smirking up at him.

Harry reached the end of the stairs and stopped in front of Quirrell, "I didn't think you, of all people, would be the one to figure it out," Harry said, walking to past Quirrell, staring at the mirror behind him.

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.

 "You're too nosy to live, Potter. Comming down here will be your last mistake," Quirrell said, turning his attention to the mirror.

Harry had already figured it out, it was The Mirror of Erised, the mirror if desire, showing you exactly what you wanted.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame.  

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it. 

"I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?" 

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. He had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror whilst he found his way out, sadly he couldn't reach his wand so he just had to keep him talking.

"Hows your fiasco of a dark lord doing Quirrell is he too afraid to come here himself in fear of the old fool upstairs?" Harry said, still trying to unwind the rope

"He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it... Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me...."

"I highly doubt it," Harry said, smirking behind Quirrell's back as the rope was finally loosening a bit.

Quirrell cursed under his breath. 

"I don't understand... is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"  

He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing so he could see into the mirror, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. 

Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!" 

And to Harry's amazement, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself "Use the boy... Use the boy..." 

Quirrell rounded on Harry. "Yes -- Potter -- come here." 

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off. 

Harry got slowly to his feet. 

"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see." 

Harry walked toward him and looked.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"  

"I see myself holding the stone, of course, it would have been the greatest gift I could have given my grandfather after all if he was still alive that is," Harry said, watching himself take the stone out of his pocket, now feeling its weight in the same pocket.

"Get out of the way," he said. 

As Harry moved aside, he felt the Sorcerer's Stone against his leg.

He took a step backwards but he had barely moved before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips. 

"He lies... He lies..." 

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. 

"Tell me the truth! What did you just see?" 

The high voice spoke again. "Let me speak to him... face-to-face..." 

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough... for this...."

Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.  

Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.  

"Harry Potter..." it whispered.  

"Hello Voldie," Harry said, looking up at the abomination on the back of Quirrell's head.

"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapour... 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... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... Now... why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"  

"And what reason do I have to do that?" Harry asked, walking closer.

"You are the grandchild of Grindenwald, give me the stone and I shall make you my apprentice," Voldemort said, "You and I shall rule this world together."

Harry sighed and looked towards the floor, "Do you really think I would do that, this stone is powerful, too powerful for one like you to use."

"Why you little...!" Quirrell yelled, spinning around and pressing Harry down on the floor, "How dare you insult my master!"

The moment Harry's skin touched Quirrell's hand Quirrell began screaming, holding his hand.

"So you cant touch me," Harry said, taking the chance and grabbing Quirrell's head with both hands.

Quirrell screamed as his skin cracked and slowly turned to dust until he was replaced by dust on the floor.

From the dust flew a black, ghost-like spirit, it charged and flew through Harry, making him fall on the floor and blackout before it flew away.

A/N Sorry its taken a few months, most of the time I've to spend sick with not much care for writing and some I've spend with homework, hope you like it.

Q