Twice Chosen | Esmerelda Potter

29. The Two-Faced Man

It is Professor Quirrell who stands in front of what I now realize is the Mirror of Erised.

I gasp loudly. My scar burns, causing me to drop my wand. 

"No! It can't be!" Harry shouts while I pocket my wand. Professor Quirrell turns around, facing us menacingly. 

"But Snape..!" Harry protests. 

"He does seem the type, doesn't he?" Quirrell says. He has completely lost his nervous stutter. "Who else would suspect p-poor st-stuttering Pr-Pr-Professor Quirrell?"

It couldn't be true.

"But that day at the Quidditch match?" I shout. "Snape was a the one that cursed my broom and sent me to the Hospital Wing!" Anger floods through me at the mere memory. "Snape tried to kill me!"

"No, I tried to kill you both! In fact, I was hoping for worse than the Hospital Wing! If Snape's cloak hadn't caught on fire and made me fall and break my eye contact, I definitely would have succeeded! Even with Snape muttering his stupid little countercurse the whole time!" 

I gasp, horrified.

"Wait!" Harry shouts to me. "Snape was trying to save us!"

"Yes," Quirrell mutters. 

"But wait, I thought he hated us!" I say.  

"He does. He was at Hogwarts with your father. They both couldn't stand each other. Snape never wanted you dead, however," Quirrell says. 

Quirrell pauses for a moment. "I figured that it was best to try and kill you after Halloween. It was then I realized that you were a danger to me. It doesn't really matter, though, I'm going to kill you both tonight."

"Then you let the troll in!" Harry shouts. 

"Of course I did! Everyone else managed to be too busy looking for it, except for Snape. He, however, was not fooled. He went straight to the third floor to head me off, and that's when that ugly brute of a dog bit Snape. I hoped that his leg was bit off, but as usual, it didn't go according to plan. Snape kept an annoyingly close watch on me after that, making sure that I was never alone." 

Quirrell pauses for a moment.

"But he doesn't understand that I'm never alone," Quirrell says with a smirk on his face. "He is with me wherever I go." He turns around and glances into the Mirror of Erised. 

"Want to make a run for it?" Harry asks telepathically. 

"Quirrell's not paying attention right now. I think we could," I reply.

Before we could run, Quirrell turns around again. 

"I show not your face but your heart's desire," Quirrell says, reading off the mirror's inscription. "I see myself holding the Sorcerer's Stone, presenting it to my Master. But how do I get it?" 

"Use the children!" a voice echoes. Harry and I frantically look around the room to try and find the source of the voice, since the voice didn't belong to Quirrell, since he never moved his mouth.

"Potters! Come here now!" Quirrell yells. "Both of you!"

Harry and I slowly walk, stalling, until we are in front of the Mirror of Erised. 

"What do you see?" Quirrell shouts. 

I glance in the mirror. I no longer see my parents, but myself holding the Sorcerer's Stone with Harry next to me. My reflection winks and gives the twinkling red-colored stone to Harry, who pockets it.