The Other Potter: Book One

Chapter Twenty Seven: Reflections, Resurrections, and Misconceptions.

[Chapter Twenty Seven. Reflections, Resurrections, and Misconceptions. Edited.]

"Me," Quirrell said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."

"But I thought -- Snape --" Harry stuttered.

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. It sent a chill up my spine. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

"But Snape tried to kill me!" Harry yelled.

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a counter curse, trying to save you."

Oohh. Sorry Snape.

"Snape was trying to save me?" Harry stated in shock.

"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really... he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular...and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry. I almost laughed. Harry was 'the-boy-who-lived' and as far as I was concerned, I was 'the-girl-who-lived', so Quirrell could shove it. No one is dying tonight. I strained my hand, desperately trying to reach my wand – it was trapped in my front pocket, and too awkward to get easily.

"You're too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in!" Harry shouted.

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls -- you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there. Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off -- and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly. Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror. This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this... but he's in London... I'll be far away by the time he gets back..."

I made eye-contact with Harry, who looked shocked to see me. We needed to divert Quirrell's attention, something, anything to keep him from looking at the mirror. Harry motioned with his eyebrows. I suppose I was going first.

Goodbye shame.

I screamed at the top of my lungs.

"STOP!" Quirrell shouted, but I just kept screaming.

It must have been a five minute scream. But then I ran out of air.

"Are you done?" Quirrell used his foot and rolled me over so I was lying on my back.

"You wish," I glared at him and he glared right back. "SOMEBODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORLD IS GONNA ROLL ME! I AIN'T THE SHARPEST TOOL IN THE SHED! VOLDY WAS LOOKING KIND OF DUMB WITH HIS FINGER AND HIS THUMB IN THE SHAPE OF AN 'L' ON HIS FOREHEAD!"