Darwinism | hp

013: Mirror of Erised

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"You?"

Quirrell turned to face the pair, who was standing a few metres behind him, tares in her jumper and jeans, as well as cuts on her face, and he starred blankly at her.

"No, it was- I thought," Harry took a deep breath. "Snape-"

Quirrell laughed, voice deeper than it had been and no longer stuttering. "Ah, yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he? Next to him, who would suspect p-p-p-poor stuttering p-p-p-professor Quirrell? I knew that you, Potter. were a danger to me right from the off, but after Halloween I realised this one was, too, if not more so!"

"So you let the troll in." Marilyn realized.

"Very good, Locke, yes. Snape, unfortunately, wasn't fooled. While everyone was running about the dungeon, he went to the third floor to head me off. He, of course, never trusted me again. He rarely left me alone. But he doesn't understand."

He turned his back to her, and she felt like a weight had been dropped in the pit of her stomach, but she didn't understand why, as Harry's hand went to his forehead.

"I'm never alone. Never," He continued, And turned to the mirror. "Now, what does this mirror do. I see what I desire. I see myself holding the Stone. But how do I get it!"

After a moment, he turned to them.

"Come here! Now!"

Marilyn stayed stuck in place, but Harry walked forward, meaning she went after him anyway, right up to the mirror she so despised. 

"What do you see?"

Marilyn was off to the side, and refused to look at the mirror, while Harry looked at it, his eyes widening, before his hand went to his pocket. 

"What do you see?!" Quirrell demanded.

"I see me shaking hands with Dumbledore. I've won the house cup."

Something ran through the air, making a sickeningly cold feeling settle itself in Marilyn's chest.

"Tell me the truth!" Quirrell was louder, now. "What do you see?!"

Then he turned away.

"Master, you are not strong enough."

Harry backed away, holding Marilyn's arm and pulling her away with him, as Quirrell began to unwrap his turban. 

It took him a long time, but as Marilyn and Harry's heels hit the first step back to Hermione and Ron, he took it off.

Instead of the back of Quirrell's head being visible in the mirror, it was instead a horrible, hideous face, that almost looked as if it was moulded by the dying skin of Quirrell's head, every movement pulling the skin tighter around the face. It had horrible red eyes, black veins covering it's face, and what looked almost like cracks on it's face, too. 

"Harry Potter." It's voice was strained, as if it's vocal cords were stretched. "We meet again."

Harry's grip on Marilyn's arm tightened. "Voldemort."

"Yes. You see what I've become? See what I must do in order to survive? Live off another. A mere parasite. 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."

Harry turned and ran up the stairs, pulling Marilyn with him, but with a snap of his fingers, Quirrell made fire appear around the room, cornering them in. 

Marilyn's mind raced. She'd been in life or death situations before.

"Don't be a fool," Voldemort spoke. "Why suffer a horrific death, when you can join me and live?"