Harry wiped his eyes. "Sorry, but there's only enough potion for one person to get through. I'll go."
Bing Huan glanced at the black flames ahead. "Do we have to pass through the flames to reach the next room?" One question left all four of them completely stumped.
Draco looked at the walls on either side. "What else would this obstacle be for? You're not thinking of digging around it, are you?" He shook his head. "No use. They're both enchanted. It'd explode before you could dig through—hell, even if you just took one more swing."
"Unless we can just go straight through without worrying about the flames... Oh! I get it." Ron seemed to have figured something out and shouted excitedly.
"What is it?"
Ron looked at the other three. "Do you remember how we got here?"
"We barged our way in. Are you losing it, Weasley?"
"No, I mean, how did we get to the Third Floor Corridor?"
"Flying Thunder God! Huan, do you have a mark in the next room?"
"Uh... I don't. Otherwise, I could've just taken you all straight in."
Harry's face immediately fell, and there was a hint of profanity in his eyes. Bing Huan knew two centenarians were waiting outside, but he wasn't in a hurry.
He leisurely took out a kunai engraved with the Flying Thunder God mark and a small glass bead. "You just need to bring the mark in with you."
Harry looked at the bead in Bing Huan's other hand. "What's this?"
"Ennmm, you can think of it as an external eyeball. I can see what's happening on your end through it. That way, he'll be in the light and we'll be in the shadows. We'll catch him off guard."
Harry took the items. "Then I'm off."
One by one, they went up and hugged Harry.
"Harry, you're an amazing wizard."
"Be careful, Harry."
"Potter, don't die."
"See you in a bit."
Harry drank the potion. A chill instantly spread through his body, and afraid it would wear off, he ran as fast as he could. Waiting for him in the final room was neither Snape nor Voldemort, but someone Draco—even though he believed Snape—could find no fault with.
Quirrell.
Sensing a visitor, Quirrell turned around with a smile. He looked much more confident now than before.
"How lovely, Potter," Quirrell said. "I met you when you first entered the Wizarding World. Now everything's almost over, and we'll be together for that, too."
"I thought... it was Snape."
"Hahahahaha!" Quirrell burst into laughter. He laughed hard, but all Harry felt was a deep chill. "Snape certainly doesn't look like a good person. But compared to him, how could poor, stuttering Professor Quirrell possibly be the bad guy?"
Harry realized his suspicions all along might have been wrong. "But he tried to kill me!"
"No! I'm the one who wanted you dead, child. Believe me, if your two friends hadn't interfered and disrupted my gaze, Snape's countercurse wouldn't have saved you, no matter how much he recited it.
"Especially that little Oriental brat. He flipped me right over, and nearly crushed my master beneath me." He reached behind his head, wanting to touch it but not daring to.
(Outside the room)
Bing Huan projected what was happening inside, and the others gathered around to watch like it was a movie.
"See? I told you it was Quirrell."
"But to be fair, the professor was pretty fierce. When he gave me extra lessons before, he nearly cursed me to death."
(Inside the room)
Harry still couldn't believe it. "Snape was trying to save me."
"Why do you think he was so eager to referee for you? That old bat was keeping an eye on me! Though it was pointless. With Dumbledore there, I couldn't do anything anyway, and Snape only got himself into trouble."
"So you were the one who let the Troll in?"
"Of course. You've already seen what I can do against a Troll, in the previous room. What a shame I was still discovered that day. I was stopped on the Third Floor, the Troll failed to kill you, and Snape wasn't killed by that stupid dog."
As he spoke, Quirrell ignored Harry and turned toward the mirror in the center of the room. Only then did Harry realize it was the Mirror of Erised, which he hadn't seen for some time.
"I offered the Philosopher's Stone to my master, but how am I supposed to get it?"
"Use the boy. Use the boy!"
A third voice filled the room, hoarse and icy. Most outrageous of all, it seemed to come from Quirrell himself.
Outside the room, Bing Huan quickly told the others to get ready. "The real boss is about to show himself. Be ready to rush in and help Harry!"
Quirrell turned to Harry. "Come here, Potter!" He pulled Harry over to the mirror.
Harry saw his reflection smile, take a red stone out of his pocket, then put it back.
At the same time, Harry felt something appear in his own pocket. He discreetly squeezed it—and just like that, he had it.
"What did you see? Tell me!" Quirrell shouted impatiently. Harry plucked up his courage and lied. "I saw Dumbledore shaking my hand. I was holding the Quidditch Cup, too."
"Get out of the way!" Quirrell roughly shoved him aside. Just as Harry turned to run, the voice spoke again. "He's lying! Stop him!"
Quirrell snapped his fingers, and flames rose up around the room.
"Let me speak to him."
"Master, you haven't recovered your strength yet."
"I still have enough strength for this."
Facing Harry, Quirrell slowly unwound the scarf around his head. He moved gently, as though the back of his head were some priceless treasure.
Soon, the mirror reflected his precious head. It was a face—a terrifying, twisted snake-like face.
"Thanks to you, I ended up like this," the face said. "Harry~ Potter~" The four outside the room were disgusted by the sight, too. Bing Huan frowned. "How does he sleep?"
"I'm nothing but a lingering soul now. I can only take physical form when I share someone else's body. The Unicorn Blood has restored some of my strength during this time. Ah, I suppose you saw Quirrell drinking it that day."
"Stay back! You'll never get the Philosopher's Stone." Harry kept retreating, but there wasn't the slightest hint of surrender in his eyes.
"I admire people with courage. Harry, come help me. There's no good or evil in this world, only power. I'm someone who lacks the ability to wield power. You're the one who defeated me. Together, we can gain control of the whole world. Then I can even bring your parents back to life—all you have to do is give me the Philosopher's Stone in your pocket."
At the thought of his parents coming back to life, Harry's eyes showed a hint of temptation. But soon, he remembered everything that had happened at Hogwarts. His friends, his professors, everything since he'd received his acceptance letter flashed through his mind like scenes from a film.
"Don't hurt my son!"
"Harry, I love you. I just can't be there to watch you grow up. You have to live well."
Suddenly, a man's and a woman's voices rang out in Harry's mind. He'd never heard them before, yet they felt familiar. No! He had heard them! They were the voices of his parents protecting him when he was one year old. Memories that should have been lost flooded back to him as if by a miracle.
He looked at Voldemort again. "Never!" In the Mirror of Erised, Lily and James smiled and nodded to Harry before disappearing.
"Grab him!" Quirrell lunged forward, knocked Harry to the ground, straddled him, and wrapped both hands around his throat.
"A self-realization from the side of justice? It won't help you, Harry. It's all fake. Let me guess what encouraged you. Friends? Companions? But you're in danger now. Where are they?"
Harry's scar stung again, but he still forced out the words. "It's not fake! They're right here with me."
"Master, I can't hold him! My hands! My hands!" Quirrell suddenly began howling in pain and stumbled back a few steps. His hands looked as though they'd been burned, glowing red.
Just as he was about to kill Harry, a brilliant flash suddenly appeared before him. When their vision cleared, Ron, Draco, and Hermione had surrounded Quirrell. Each of them held a rectangular slip of paper.
Once he sensed no danger, Voldemort relaxed. "A fine Flash Charm, Harry. Looks like you really do have a few good friends. Do you plan to take me on with slips of paper?"
He turned to Draco. "You're Lucius's son, aren't you? Should I take this to mean you've betrayed me and switched your allegiance to Dumbledore? The Malfoy family is even more foolish than I thought."
Draco smiled scornfully. "I simply chose someone more worthy to follow. I'll make the Malfoy family's glory live on through me." With that, he activated a fire talisman and threw it.
The talisman ignited in midair and coalesced into a deadly fireball. The three began suppressing him with all kinds of talismans.
Three minutes earlier, in the Potions room.
Bing Huan took out a pile of talismans and handed them to the others. "Draco, keep the Brightest Day Charm active until we go in. Then pour as much magic into it as you can. You two, make sure to close your eyes.
"If your eyes are suddenly exposed to bright light, you'll be blinded for a short time. Use that chance to surround him. These are all low-level support talismans, mainly to distract him. Anything too powerful wouldn't be safe to use indoors. Once we're inside, I'll hide. When the time is right, I'll hit him with something nasty."
In the blink of an eye, more than a dozen talismans had struck Quirrell, leaving his wizarding robes in tatters. The number of scrapes and burns kept increasing, but that was all. The actual damage was still less than what he'd suffered from touching Harry just now.
"What's with students these days? Enough!" A wave of force burst from Quirrell and knocked the three surrounding him back. He prepared to use a Killing Curse to take one of them out first.
Before you continue