A Potter Secret

The Sorcerer's Stone

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Isabella jolts up in bed, looking around. A moment later, Severus runs into the room. "Isabella? What's wrong?"

She looks up at him, tears in her eyes. "Harry! He's in trouble. I know it!" She cries. Severus picks her up, holding her close. "He's- He's made it past the- the keys and the devil's snare and the chess set. He's in a room with a mirror and- and Professor Quirrell. Please, Papa, you've got to help him. He's in danger! He's gonna get hurt!"

Severus nods and wraps Isabella in a blanket. "Isabella, promise me you'll stay here until either Grandma Minnie, Grandpa Dumble or I come and get you. I need to know you're going to be safe while I'm gone."

Isabella nods, trying to breath between her sobs. "Hurry. Professor Quirrell's gonna hurt him!" Severus rushes out of his rooms and down towards the chamber.

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Harry walks down a long staircase to an empty room with pillars around it. The Mirror of Erised is in the middle of the room, and a man is standing before it. It is Quirrell. Harry yelps and grabs his scar. "You?" Harry asks. Quirrell turns around. "No. It can't be- He was the one-"

"Yes. He does seem the type, doesn't he? Next to me, who would suspect, p-p-poor s-stuttering Professor Quirrell?" Quirrell asks, seeming calm and collected.

"B-but, that day, during the Quidditch Match, you're who tried to kill me," Harry replies.

"Yes, dear boy. I tried to kill you! And trust 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," Quirrell assures.

"Snape was trying to save me?" Harry questions, playing dumb.

"I knew you were a danger right from the off. Especially after Halloween."

"Th-then you let the troll in."

"Very good Potter, yes. Snape, unfortunately, wasn't fooled. While everyone else was running to the dungeon, he went to the 3rd floor to head me off. He, of course, never trusted me again. He rarely left me alone," Quirrell explains. Quirrell turns back to the mirror and Harry's scar hurts. "But he doesn't understand. I'm never alone. Never. Now what does this mirror do? I see what I desire. I see myself holding the stone. But how do I get it?"

The raspy voice of Voldemort calls, "Use the boy."

"Come here, Potter, now!" Quirrell cries. Harry walks forward shakily. "Tell me. What do you see?" Harry looks in the mirror. He sees himself. His mirror self brings his hand into his pocket and takes out a red stone! The mirror self winks and puts the stone back. Very subtly, Harry reaches to his pocket. There is a lump. He gasps. "What is it?! What do you see?!"

"I-I'm shaking hands with Dumbledore. I've won the house cup," Harry lies.

"He lies," Voldemort rasps.

"Tell the truth! What do you see?!" Quirrell demands.

"Let me speak to him," Voldemort insists.

"Master, you are not strong enough," Quirrell reminds, looking at nothing.

"I have strength enough for this," Voldemort assures. Quirrell unwraps his turban and on the side opposite his face, another face is planted. It is Voldemort who appears kind of like a snake. He stretches out and faces Harry via the mirror. "Harry Potter. We meet again."

"Voldemort," Harry realizes.

"Yes. You see what I have become? See what I must do 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!" Voldemort explains. Harry turns and runs. "Stop him!" Quirrell snaps his fingers and fire erupts all around the room. Harry is stuck. "Don't be a fool! Why suffer a horrific death when you can join me and live?!"