I stepped into a well-lit chamber, my heart pounding. The first thing I saw was the Mirror of Erised. Before I could ask Harry about it, I noticed that he was standing stock-still in front of me. I followed his gaze and saw...
Professor Quirrell?
Wait...
What?!
"You!" Harry gasped.
"Me," Professor Quirrell said calmly. "I wondered if I'd meet you here, Potter. And greetings, Ri — Jane. I knew you wouldn't be far behind."
For the first time ever, he was staring me straight in the eye. I glared right back at him.
"But I thought — Snape—" said Harry.
"Severus?" said Quirrell, laughing. "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?"
I clenched my fists to keep myself from strangling him.
"But Snape tried to kill me!" Harry said.
Quirrell explained that he had been the one trying to kill Harry, and that Snape had been muttering a countercurse — thus why he refereed the next match, to make sure Quirrell didn't try anything.
And all this time we thought Snape was the evil one...
Quirrell snapped his fingers, and ropes bound around Harry. He shot him off toward the wall and then faced me.
"So you've been trying to steal the Stone the whole time?" I said.
"I would've thought you'd have figured it out by now, Riddle," said Quirrell. "You seemed to have your father's brains — I guess I was wrong."
I felt my glare intensify.
"That's his name," I spat, "not mine."
"Oh, right — you're Evelyn Jane," said Quirrell in a taunting voice. "Does it really matter what I call you, stupid girl?"
No — but I'd prefer it if you'd call me by my actual last name rather than my father's. I was named Evelyn Jane for a reason — not that I really know that reason, but still.
"She isn't stupid!" shouted Harry.
Not the time, Harry.
Quirrell turned to him. "You're too nosy to live, Potter," he said. "Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what's guarding the Stone."
"You're the one who let the troll in?" I said.
"Certainly," said Quirrell. He told us that while everyone went looking for the troll, Snape went to the third-floor corridor to lecture him — which explains why Snape was limping in November and why he mentioned Fluffy to Filch.
"Now, what to do with you?" said Quirrell, facing me.
He considered me for a moment, but right before he snapped, he winced as if in pain.
"We don't need to do anything to the girl..." whispered a spine-chilling voice. "She is useless... There is nothing she can do to help the boy..."
That can't be...
"Well, thanks," I muttered without thinking. My mind was too focused on trying to find out where the voice came from — and whose voice it was.
"So much like the one before you, Riddle," said Quirrell, before he winced again.
'The one before me'? Why don't you just say my mother or my father, instead of being all dramatic?
YOU ARE READING
Evelyn Riddle and the Philosopher's Stone
Fanfiction"If my dad could hear us, you'd already be dead, Ron." My name is Evelyn Willow Jane - or, as most people call me, Evie. I've lived with the Malfoys for my whole life because of one teensy problem - not long after I was born, my father tried to murd...
