The Fox In A Snake Pit!

Bravery

Quirrell was walking backward towards him. So the face, Jade assumed was Voldemort, could still see Harry. 

The evil face wore a sinister smile. "How touching..." it hissed, the words dripping with venom. "I always value bravery. Yes, boy, your parents were brave. Your father fought valiantly, but I was too powerful for him. He put up a courageous fight, but in the end, I was victorious."

A surge of anger coursed through Harry as he listened to the face boast about his father's demise. He clenched his fists, determined not to let his emotions get the better of him.

"But your mother..." the evil face continued, a hint of sadistic pleasure in its voice. "She needn't have died. She was trying to protect you, like the perfect mother she was. It was quite heroic of her, really. Now, give me the Stone, unless you want her sacrifice to have been in vain, boy."

"NEVER!" shouted Harry. 

The intensity in his voice echoed through the room, filled with determination and defiance. His eyes locked onto the flame door, his heart pounding with adrenaline. Without hesitation, Harry sprang forward, propelled by a surge of determination. 

In a sudden burst of fury, Voldemort's piercing scream echoed through the air, "SEIZE HIM!" he bellowed, his voice filled with malice and urgency. 

The next moment, Harry felt the iron grip of Professor Quirrell's hand closing tightly around his wrist. Once Quirrell grabbed his arm, he screamed in pain, struggling with all his might, and to the surprise of both Jade and Hary, Quirrell let go of him. The pain in Harry's head lessened, providing him with a momentary relief.

Jade scanned the area, searching for any sign of Quirrell. 

Quirrell, hunched over in excruciating pain, stared at his fingers in horror. Before his very eyes, they were blistering, the skin bubbling and sizzling as though engulfed in flames. The agony was unbearable, but he had no respite. 

"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet and landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck. 

The force of Quirrell's attack sent a surge of pain coursing through Harry's body, almost blinding him. He struggled to breathe, gasping for air as Quirrell's grip tightened.

Jade's heart clenched as she observed the excruciating pain etched across Harry's face. It was evident that the intensity of his agony was nearly blinding him. However, despite her deep concern, she found herself unable to offer any assistance. Voldemort had turned his attention towards her, his piercing gaze fixated on her every movement. It was as if he was analyzing her, anticipating her next move.

"Master, I cannot hold him... my hands... my hands!" And Quirrell, though pinning Harry to the ground with his knees, let go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms. The sight before him was shocking - his hands were burned, raw, red, and shiny. 

"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort, his rage consuming him. His crimson eyes burned with fury as he turned his attention away from Jade, a momentary lapse in judgment that would prove to be his downfall.

Jade seized the opportunity that presented itself, acting swiftly and decisively. With a determined expression on her face, she shouted a Hot-Air Charm, directing her left hand and wand (held in her right hand) toward Quirrell. The force of her spell sent him and Voldemort hurtling through the air, crashing into the nearest wall with a resounding thud.

"You stupid Bitch!" Hissed Voldemort just as Quirrell fell to the floor briefly before getting back up and like a mindless minion went straight for Harry and raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, for whatever reason, ran towards him, reached up, and grabbed Quirrell's face...