In Somnis Veritas

28

Treading carefully down the stone steps, Harry squinted into the gloom, trying to make out the shapes in front of him.

Stopping half way down, he frowned, recognising the mirror that stood in the centre of the room.

And in front of it, a familiar figure – the turbaned head unmistakable.

"You," Harry breathed. "I knew it!"

Professor Quirrell turned to look at him, a cruel smile on his face.

"Smarter than you look, aren't you boy? I knew you were a danger to me right from the off. Especially after Halloween," Quirrell said.

"Then, you let the troll in!" Harry realised.

"Very good, Potter. Yes. Just as suspicious as your honourable guardian, I see. Unfortunately, he wasn't fooled and while everyone else was running around the dungeons, he went to the third floor to head me off. I knew he was going to be a problem too, after that night – ever the protector."

"I knew it was you who was trying to steal the Stone! And Professor Snape did too!" Harry cried.

"He had his suspicions, perhaps," Quirrell shrugged. "But he was too pre-occupied with his young charge to really do anything about it. Perhaps if he had, you wouldn't be in this dreadful predicament right now..."

Harry shook his head. "That night... the night I was supposed to have detention with Professor Snape... I heard him warning you to keep away from the Stone and not to take advantage of your position in the school."

Quirrell chuckled. "No, dear boy. What you heard was him warning me to stay away from you!"

Harry frowned. Had he really gotten it so wrong?

"He'd barely left me alone since the first Quidditch game. But he doesn't understand. I'm never alone..." the man muttered, turning back to look into the mirror. "Now, what does this mirror do? I see myself... holding the Stone. But how to get it?"

"Usssse the boy..." another voice rasped. Harry wasn't sure where it came from, but it sounded snake-like... familiar... exactly like the voice in his nightmare earlier that year.

"Come here, Potter! Now!" Quirrell cried.

Harry was so dumbstruck that he walked towards the professor, standing in front of the mirror himself.

"Tell me, what do you see? What is it?" Quirrell asked.

Holding his breath, Harry lifted his head and looked directly into the mirror.

There in the reflection were his parents standing either side of him, exactly as they had been when he had stumbled across the mirror in an abandoned classroom earlier that year. Except, they weren't smiling anymore, and their outlines seemed more hazy than they once had.

"It's okay, Harry," – a woman's voice. Harry heard it inside of his head, and though his mother's lips were not moving in the reflection, he somehow knew it was hers.

His father was nodding, now.

Harry frowned, puzzled.

What's okay?

As if in response, a third figure appeared in the reflection of the mirror, standing between Lily and James Potter.

Harry's eyes widened, and his mother smiled at him.

Her image was becoming fainter and fainter, and before long, both she and his father had disappeared completely from view.

Casting his eyes upwards, Harry looked at the one remaining person in the reflection besides himself.