Harry Potter - The Accidental Animagus

Chapter 39 - The Philosopher's Stone

The time had come. Quirinus Quirrell stalked the corridors of Hogwarts Castle late Friday night, ready to put his plan into action. Snape wouldn’t be so easily fooled tonight. He had noticed what had happened in the past week, and he would be watching like a hawk for anything out of the ordinary. This time, Quirrell needed a stronger distraction, one the Potions Master couldn’t ignore. He had already put step one of his plan into action: rearrange the prefects’ schedules so that a member of the correct house and gender was on patrol.

He found the two Gryffindor prefects on the fifth floor: Percy Weasley and Audrey MacDougal. With Weasley’s slavish devotion to his duties, he wasn’t much for conversation. Unfortunately for his partner, that meant he wasn’t paying as much attention to other things he should have, either.

Just as the prefects passed where he was hiding, Quirrell emerged from the shadows, pointed his wand at the MacDougal’s girl’s back and whispered, “Imperio.”

The girl stopped cold. The boy turned around to ask what was going on when Quirrell came closer to them and cleared his throat.

“Good evening, Professor,” Weasley said formally. “Can we help you?”

Step two: get a hold of the student who was most likely to be able to retrieve the Philosopher’s Stone from the Mirror of Erised—one noble enough not to be swayed by riches, intelligent enough to know the limitations of the Elixir of Life, but easily enticed by more abstract temptations, like the allure of knowledge.

“Yes,” Quirrell replied. “There are some sudden issues th-that n-need attending,” he said. He casually leaned against the wall to support himself in his weakness. His stutter was already back with a vengeance. “Miss MacDougal, g-go back to Gryffindor Tower at once, p-please. Find Hermione G-Granger, tell her that Professor McGonagall wants to speak with her immediately, and bring her here.”

“Yes, Professor,” the MacDougal girl said flatly. She turned and walked away toward the Tower.

As expected, Percy Weasley accepted this without question. His implicit trust of all authority figures worked to Quirrell’s advantage. However, he was somewhat curious: “Professor, may I ask what is going on?”

“You may ask,” Quirrell said with a wry smile. Then, he levelled his wand at the boy—the boy who had unknowingly harboured the arch-coward Pettigrew for most of the past decade. He barely had time for a look of surprise to cross his face before Quirrell said, “Stupefy.”

Step three: force Snape away from his guard duty by invoking one of his more important duties as Potions Master.

Quirrell stepped closer to the unconscious prefect and carefully tipped the contents of a small vial into his mouth. The tall boy began shaking and twitching on the floor as if in pain.

A few minutes later, the female prefect returned to him, with the Granger girl in tow. Naturally, expecting to see McGonagall, she sensed that something was wrong.

“Professor Quirrell?” Granger said in confusion.

“Stupefy.”

Granger started to move, but she wasn’t fast enough, and she slumped to the floor. MacDougal didn’t even notice. She stood still before Quirrell until he addressed her again: “Find Professor Snape by the third floor corridor and inform him that Percy Weasley has been poisoned. Do not tell him that you’ve seen me or Miss Granger.”