Double Double Toil and Trouble // One //

Chapter Seventeen

Quirrell was standing with his back facing us as he stared into a large, golden-framed mirror. He turned when I shouted at him, glaring hard.

Harry walked towards him. "No, it can't be. S-Snape! He-he was the one-" Quirrell interrupted his rambling. "Yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he?" He spoke with a drawl, similar to Snape's. "Next to him, who would suspect p-poor, s-st-stuttering Professor Quirrell?" He mocked his fake stutter just as many students used to do.

"But that day, during the Quidditch match, Snape tried to kill us!" Harry shouted again. I was frozen in place, probably too shocked to speak. Quirrell chuckled. "No, dear boy, I tried to kill you! And believe me, if Snape's cloak hadn't caught fire and broken my eye contact, I would have succeeded. Even with Snape muttering his little counter curse." I suddenly found my voice again. "Snape was trying to save us?" "Of course! Why do you think he wanted to referee the next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again!"

I scoffed. "But you couldn't do a thing with Dumbledore there." I taunted. He narrowed his eyes in my direction. With a snap of his fingers, ropes appeared from thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around both of us. I lost my balance and fell on my back. "Now, wait quietly, Potters. I need to examine this mirror." I turned my gaze and started doing the same. It was an unusual mirror, almost as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

"This mirror shows me what I want. I see myself holding the stone. But how do I get it?" Quirrell asked aloud. A dark voice echoed throughout the large room. "Use them." It said. Quirrell turned to Harry and I. "Come here, Potters! Now!" He shouted as he snapped his fingers. The ropes that were wrapped around us disappeared in an instant. We stood up and walked shakily towards him, making sure to stay close together. We looked in the mirror.

At first, nothing seemed different, then Harry's reflection reached into his pocket. I glanced to my left to find Harry's arm remaining still. This was getting weird. When I looked up, my brother's reflection was holding a small, red rock, no bigger than a golden snitch. It was the Philosopher's Stone. He gave a wink and put it back in his pocket. I felt him move his hand against the fabric of his trousers before tensing up. The stone was really there.

Quirrell looked at him. "What is it? What do you see?" Harry had to come up with a lie quickly. "I-I'm shaking hands with Dumbledore. I've won the House Cup." "He lies." The mysterious voice spoke again. Quirrell was getting angry. "Tell the truth! What do you see?" "Let me speak to them." Quirrell looked upwards. "Master, you are not strong enough." I started backing away, pulling Harry with me by his sweater sleeve. "I have enough strength for this." We were a few feet away when Quirrell started untying his turban. "Okay, we have the stone. Let's get out of here." I said in my head, trying to get Harry away. "Wait." He replied.

When Quirrell had the purple material off of his head completely, he turned away from us. What we saw very much made me want to vomit. There was another face on the back of our Professor's face. It was chalk white with gleaming red eyes. "Potters," It spat, "we meet again." It was as if Devil's Snare had wrapped itself around our ankles, keeping us in place. "V-Voldemort." Harry muttered.

"Yes." It hissed as if it were a serpent. "See what I have become? See what I must do to survive? Live off of another, a mere parasite." Quirrell backed up closer to us. We stepped further away. "Unicorn blood can sustain me, but it cannot give me a body of my own. But, there is something that can. Something that, conveniently enough, lies in your pocket." "Go!" We turned and ran for the door.

"Stop them!" We heard Quirrell snap his fingers, and flames erupted inches from us, blocking the exit. We turned in every direction hoping to find another door of some kind, but we had no luck. "Don't be fools, Potters." Voldemort said. "There is no good and evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it." Harry pulled the stone out of his pocket and gripped it tight. Quirrell stepped closer. "Why suffer horrific deaths, when you can join me, and live?" We shook our heads. "NEVER!" I yelled. "Kill them!"

Quirrell jumped off of the ground and literally flew to us, holding us to the ground by our throats. The stone flew from Harry's grasp and onto the floor, only inches out of his reach. The pain in my neck from the Devil's Snare intensified as Quirrell cut off our air supply.

The black spots appeared in my vision quicker this time. As far as being able to breathe, I wasn't having the best night. The last thing I heard was a sizzling noise and Quirrell's screaming before everything went dark.

~

"How long do you think it'll be?" "Hard to say. This one enjoys her sleep. Trust me on that." I recognized the voices speaking above me, but I couldn't focus due to my pounding headache. I tried opening my eyes, but the sunlight shining onto my face was making it worse. I couldn't even lift my arm because it felt like led. I was pretty much stuck.

I don't know how long it took to gain the ability to move again. I opened my eyes a bit. I was in the hospital wing. Nat was sitting at my left while Draco sat at my right. They hadn't noticed my awakening yet. "You think she'll notice if I take one of her chocolate frogs?" Draco asked, peering at the cart that was placed at the foot of my cot, piled with sweets. I saw this as an oppritunity. "I dare you." The blonde jumped at my voice. I smirked. Nat looked down at me. "How are you feeling?" She asked. I rubbed my eyes. "Fan-bloody-tastic."

The doors to the Hospital Wing suddenly opened, and Professor Dumbledore walked in. He wore scarlet robes, his beard was combed neatly, and he had his usual half-moon spectacles sitting on the edge of his nose. "Afternoon children." He greeted cheerfully. I frowned. "Afternoon? How long have I been out?" I asked. Nat checked her watch. "About fifteen hours." I raised an eyebrow. "Wow, I really do enjoy my sleep."

I looked to my left and saw Harry laying in a separate cot, completely out cold. My eyes widened when the memories of Quirrell and Voldemort rushed into my mind. "What happened? Is Harry okay? Where's Quirrell, and the stone?" I rambled. Dumbledore looked at Nat and Draco. "Could you give us a moment?" He asked. They nodded and left. The headmaster sat next to my feet. "Professor Quirrell is no longer with us." "What exactly does that mean, sir?"

I was speechless as he explained to me how whenever Harry touched Quirrell, he skin shriveled and turned black before falling off. "H-how?" "It was because of your mother. That night in Godric's Hollow, she put herself between you and Voldemort, and that kind of act leaves a mark." I placed a hand over my scar. "No, no. This kind of mark cannot be seen." I lowered my hand. "It lives in your very skin." I frowned. "What is it?" He chuckled. "It's love, Lex." I gave a small grin.

I looked over at my brother's sleeping form. "Will he be alright?" I asked. Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, he'll be fine." "What happened to the stone, sir?" "I'm going to have a little chat with my friend Nicholas, and the stone will be destroyed." I looked up at him. "But, Nicholas Flamel, he'll die, won't he?" Dumbledore sighed solemnly. "He'll have time to set his affairs in order, but yes, he will die." I turned my gaze down to my lap.

~

Madam Pomfrey released me from the hospital wing later that day. I met up with Nat and Draco in the Slytherin Common Room, where we had a small celebration for Draco's birthday. We ate all of the sweets I had gotten from when I was unconscious, and played a few pranks on some Hufflepuffs. Since we had only found out about his birthday the day before, we both had to owe him anything he wanted as gifts, which was a little scary.

The next day, the Quidditch team ran into the common room, all of them cheering. I realized why when Flint shoved his way to the front, holding the large, silver cup above his head. It was the Quidditch Cup. Since Harry was still in the hospital wing, and the Gryffindor team didn't have a reserve seeker, the Sytherin/Gryffindor Match was cancelled and our house had the most points. Every Slytherin student was up late that night celebrating until Snape shut it down around midnight.

Dumbledore told me the next morning that Flamel had destroyed the stone, and was working on getting his affairs in order. I visited Harry in the hospital wing afterwards before going to Lunch with Nat.

Harry woke up that afternoon. Dumbledore explained everything to him just as he did me. I also had to break it to him that Gryffindor lost the Quidditch Cup because of his absence, but not as blunt as I wanted it to be. He took it surprisingly well.