Quirrell stood in front of a mirror I recognized very well, and I couldn't help but feel grossed out by the sight. There stood a follower of Voldemort, a follower of a monster, in front of one of my most happiest of memories. The sight of the smelly man with the ugly turban in front of the mirror somehow tainted the quality of my memory.
I wrinkled my nose as him and forced myself to remain calm. I needed a clear head if I was going to duel him.
“Well,” I drawled, putting my hands on my hips. Quirrell turned around, not looking at all surprised by my sudden appearance. “Wouldn't my brother be surprised to see you here instead of Snape? I, of course, knew you were faking it all along,” I leaned forward, sneering at him. “A fake stutter? Really? Don't you think that was over doing it? And that diversion you played on Halloween was really low; setting a troll out on a bunch of helpless students.”
“I knew you were a brilliant witch for your age, Potter,” Quirrell replied calmly. I was a little disappointed that he wasn't shaking in his shoes. “But I have to say that neither of us expected you to figure it out.”
“Us meaning you and Voldemort,” I said, suddenly being more cautious about the room around me. Where was Voldemort hiding?
“Yes,” Quirrell twitched. “You were foolish to come, Potter, but I am glad that you did. Now we must await your brother, and only then will my waiting be complete.”
I gave him a dirty look. “Why bring my brother to this? He still hasn't figured out that Snape isn't the bad guy, at least in this situation. I can defeat you just fine on my own.”
Quirrell smiled, and the sight was hideous. “There is the Potter arrogance that has become so famous in the wizarding world. Your brother is so humble, I assumed it skipped a generation.”
I blushed furiously at the obvious insult.
“But I suppose your mother's intelligence was another thing your brother missed out on,” Quirrell pondered this for a moment, before eying me triumphantly. “All the teachers were suspicious of you, you know. Always studying, eating too fast, and copying everything they said on a piece of parchment. McGonagall was worrying her bun off.”
The teachers had been weary of me. I didn't know how to take this; I wasn't close to the professors in any way, but they had taught me everything I knew about the wizarding world, and I had inadvertently formed a bond with them.
I shook this off. Just because Quirrell said this, didn't mean that it was true. “I have to admit,” I said. “There is something I never figured out. Why did Snape try and help Harry and me during the Quidditch match? He doesn't seem like the type of person who would care if we died.”
“Who knows,” Quirrell shrugged his thin, pointy shoulders carelessly. “But it was useless. Because after all that, I'm going to kill you right here.”
I took out my wand; I didn't like the way he was looking at me. It was as though he'd been waiting for this very moment, for a chance to kill me.
“Wands,” Quirrell mused, looking at mine like he hadn't seen one in a like time. “I don't need them anymore, and nor do you?”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, but voice sharp and harsh.
“You and I aren't so different in that aspect,” Quirrell noted. “We both can produce wandless magic. You need a lot more training, however, since you haven't figured out how to control it yet. But he thinks that your wandless magic will become stronger than any other's... besides his own, of course.”
I didn't need to ask who 'he' was. “You're not lying,” I narrowed my eyes at him, surprised. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was being truthful. “How do I use it?”
“You ask that as if I'd tell you,” Quirrell let out a sharp laugh. “Now, be quiet while we wait for your brother. I need to examine this mirror.”
My mind was still whirling at his previous comment. Quirrell had wandless magic too, yet he was able to control it. Was his as dangerous as mine? Did he learn the power – or was he born with it, like I assumed I was?
“This mirror is the key to finding the Stone,” Quirrell's voice broke through my reverie.
Before I could reply, someone else burst through the fire behind us, and we looked up to see who it was. I had been expecting the entire group, but it was just bruised and battered Harry.
We blinked at each other.
“Nixie?” Harry said, surprised and angry. “What are you doing here?”
“I'm here to protect the Stone,” I said. “Where are the others? Is Bonnie okay?”
Harry ignored my questions. “I thought you didn't believe the Stone was in danger.”
“I didn't,” I said honestly, before glaring at the man in the turban. “Until I heard this sneak speaking to Voldemort in his classroom. By the way, Quirrell, if you want to keep a secret cover, I wouldn't go sniveling around whispering 'My Lord' so that anyone could hear.”
It was only then that Harry realized who stood before us. I could only imagine his surprise.
“You?” Harry gasped. “But – Snape?”
“Yes, Snape does seem the type, doesn't he?” Quirrell's eyes glittered. “But no. It was me, I was trying to kill you,” he said it so flippantly, like he went around murdering children for fun. Both me and Harry's cheeks flushed red with indignation. “Now, let's start.”
Quirrell snapped his fingers, conjuring a long string of ropes that tied tightly around Harry and me. The ropes were strong, so I couldn't break them by scratching at them, so instead I tried to wiggle out. Quirrell ignored my attempts and turned back to the mirror.
“I saw you in the forest,” I said accusingly. “You were killing unicorns.”
“Oh, yes,” Quirrell barely spared me a glance, which only made me more frustrated. “My master warned me that someone was watching.
“But I heard Voldemort, too,” I continued, ignoring Harry's look of surprise. He was going to make me spill everything when we got out of here. If we got out of here. “I heard him with you, but I couldn't see him.”
For the very first time since I've arrived, fear flitted across his face. I could clearly see the difference between his genuine fear and his false one. “The Dark Lord is wherever I go,” he sounded haunted, like he was living in a nightmare. “Sometimes, it's hard to follow all of my master's orders. He punished me for it.”
I gulped, feeling fear build at the bottom of my stomach. For the first time, I realized just how serious stopping Voldemort from arising was. This wasn't about vengeance, or even keeping Harry safe. This was about sparing the world – both wizarding and muggle – from a very dangerous evil. This revelation made me strong, and when I spoke, I was proud that it didn't shake.
“You sound like a house elf,” I said coldly.
Behind me, Harry fell on the floor, but Quirrell and I ignored him.
“You should watch your tongue, Miss Potter, it will get you killed someday,” Quirrell snapped, his anger building. “How do I get the Stone? Help me, Master!”
“Use the children... use the children...” It was Voldemort; I recognized the odd chill to the voice.
“Yes – Potter – come here,” Quirrell clapped his hands, and the ropes around Harry disappeared. Slowly, my brother got to his feet. “Come here, look into the mirror – tell me what you see.”
Slowly, Harry crept towards the mirror. I watched with bated breath as he stared at his own reflection. His face didn't move an inch.
“Well?” Quirrell looked seconds away from fidgeting. “What do you see?”
It was more of a demand than a question, and Harry obeyed. “I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore,” Harry said haltingly, obviously lying. “I-I've won the House Cup for Gryffindor.”
Quirrell cursed and untied me. I flexed my arms, feeling my magic surging freely in them.
“And you?” Quirrell looked disgusted by the sight of me.
I stepped in front of the mirror the same moment Harry stepped out. My own face stared back at me, my features pale. But I looked different – older, and with a strange aura around me. I knew what I was seeing; I was seeing myself, strong and in control of my own magic. This was a Nixie who could stop any bad person from hurting her brother, from hurting her friends. The Mirror Nixie smirked at me, like we both knew a secret, then lifted one hand, jet black sparks dancing around the fingertips. She was showing me only a taste of what we could do.
“We don't have all day,” Quirrell snapped.
I thought on my feet. “I see a unicorn,” I smiled to make it believable. “A cute, beautiful, alive unicorn, and it's all mine,” I gave the professor a dry look. “And when I say cute, I mean really cute. It's extremely, highly, super, exceedingly cute. It's the most cutest thing I've seen in my life; mega cute-”
“Shut up!” Quirell ordered in annoyance.
“Really, really cute,” I finished with an evil smile.
Quirrell cursed at both me and himself.
“Let me speak to them,” Voldemort hissed, his voice coming from seemingly nowhere. “Face to face.”
“But, Master, you are not strong enough!”
“I am strong enough... for this,” the voice said.
With shaking hands, Quirrell unwrapped his turban and turned around. I felt my body go rigid at the thing I saw. “I knew Voldemort was with you, but I didn't think it was like that.”
On the back of Quirrell's head was a face. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a humanized snake. This was the face of my parents' murderer. I almost felt sorry for the man, but then I remembered how he almost killed Harry and me.
“Nixie and Harry Potter...” it's voice was a hiss that carried on around the room and caused goosebumps to raise on my arms.
I smiled shakily at Harry, who looked back at me with a face paler than the moon. “Ha,” I joked, hating how weak my voice sounded. “He said my name first.”
The attempt at humor was weak, and Voldemort didn't seem to find it amusing, either.
“Silence,” the face hissed, and I was nauseated at the sight of it moving. Embarrassingly, I gripped Harry's hand, like a little girl searching for comfort after a bad dream. “See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor. I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own... Now... why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket.”
I didn't know what he was talking about, but Harry stumbled back in surprise, his hands flying to his jean pocket. I glanced between them in shock, before stepping bravely in front of my brother. I was going to defend both him and the Stone, if I had to.
“Don't be a fool,” the face snarled; it's red, beady eyes glaring over my shoulder at Harry. “Better save your own life and join me... or you'll meet the same end as your parents.... They died begging me for mercy...”
Rage built up in me at the slander.
“LIAR!” Harry shouted.
Quirrell was walking backward at us, so that Voldemort could still see Harry. The evil face was now smiling.
“How touching...” it hissed. “I always value bravery... Yes, boy, your parents were brave.... I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn't have died... she was trying to protect you two.... Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain.”
I remembered my dream, how my mother had ran off with Harry and me. I could also remember her smiling down at me, proud of what she saw, when I looked into the mirror. I wouldn't disappoint her by helping evil.
“Never,” I said, finality in my voice. I came down here for a fight, but the time wasn't right. Harry and I weren't ready for a duel with Voldemort, no matter how much I had thought I was.
Harry and I reached for each other as though we shared the same mind, and we both sprang for the fire door.
“Seize them!” Voldemort screamed. In the very next second, I felt Quirrell's hands close around my wrist, the one I was using to stay in contact with Harry. A sharp, needle pain shot through my scar. The pain was blinding, and, screaming, I let go of Harry and tried everything to get out of Quirrell's grip.
“Let go!” I could barely hear Harry shout over my own screeching. To my surprise, Quirrell listened with his own yelp of pain.
The needle sharp feeling in my scar lessened immediately. I glanced over at Harry with teary eyes, but he wasn't looking back. He was staring at Quirrell with an odd expression on his face, like an idea was forming. I followed his line of sight.
Quirrell was hunched over in pain, gawping in horror at his fingers that were blistering before his eyes.
“Seize them! SEIZE THEM!” Voldemort hissed angrily, bot bothered at all by his servant's agony.
Quirrell lunged again, but this time at Harry. The man knocked Harry off of his feet, his hands wrapped around my brother's throat, choking him. I struggled to my feet and grabbed Quirrell's arms, prying them off Harry's neck. My scar burned from the contact, blurring my eyesight, but I kept hold since it seemed to be hurting Quirrell as well.
“Harry!” distantly, I could hear someone calling for us. “Nixie!”
Someone was separating me from the pain, and at the same moment I was being separated from my consciousness. I let go of Quirrell's arm, leaving the pain behind and letting darkness overcome me.
The next moment I awoke, both Dumbledore and Harry were there next to me, and I knew it was explanation time.
Dumbledore left at Madam Promrey's insistence. The things he had told me left my mind whirling, but I didn't have much time to think about it before Ron, Hermione, and Bonnie came bursting in.
“NIXIE!” Hermione was crying before she even reached my side, and when I sat up to greet her, she flung her arms around me. “I-I thought you were going to the library! Not going for the Stone!”
“I'm guessing Bonnie told you,” I said, but I couldn't help but smile. It was good that I wasn't keeping anymore secrets from them.
Well, I glanced down at my hands, that were holding on the Hermione. My magic was always present, even in my happiest of moods. There is one secret they must never know.
“What was I supposed to say when you ended up in the hospital wing?” Bonnie defended herself sheepishly. “That you got a severe paper cut?”
Hermione didn't find this funny at all. “Nixie, I didn't even know that you were looking all those things up so you could defend the Stone! I thought you were obsessed with getting a good grade!”
“Well, I wasn't really open with you guys,” I said with guilt, before brushing it off and raising an eyebrow at Ron. “I guess someone owes me an apology for talking behind my back.”
“Msry,” Ron mumbled.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“I'm sorry,” Ron muttered a little louder.
“Oh no, it's okay, Ron. You don't need to apologize,” I smiled widely at his grudging glare. “I told you guys it wasn't Snape, but no one would listen to me. Then, I see your four encouraging Quirrel, and I felt like kicking your buttocks! And you guys took longer than I expected to find out that Hagrid already told Voldemort how to get past Fluffy.”
“You figured all of this out before us?” Hermione asked, astonished. It felt good to brag about my accomplishments, and I suddenly felt more normal than I had in a long, long time. Well, as normal as an eleven year old witch can be in a magic school.
“Yup,” I said, popping the 'p'. “It wasn't that hard; it all just fit together. Quirrell was talking to a voice that I had never heard before, a man was in the Forbidden Forest killing unicorns, and Hagrid just so happens to get the very animal that he's been wanting for quite a while. I was 'studying' so I could face whatever obstacle was guarding the Stone. I have to say that I wasn't expecting to play a game of chess, so I'm lucky Bonnie caught up when she did or I would have never made it out of that trapdoor alive.”
I looked at Ron. “Thank you, by the way.”
“For what?” Ron asked.
“Saving Harry and Hermione,” I laughed, unable to help myself. “We all know that they suck at wizard chess.”
Ron's entire face was pink, but he was smiling too. “It was a piece of cake,” he said modestly.
Ron being modest was so ridiculous that we all roared with laughter, and I decided that the red haired Weasley wasn't as bad as I had assumed. If there was one thing that I've learned from this experience, it was that you never fully knew someone.
“You must come and stay this summer,” Ron said with a giant grin. We were in King's Cross Station, all about to part ways. “All of you – I'll send you an owl.”
“Thanks,” Harry said, “I'll need something to look forward to.” People were rushing by us, bumping out shoulders as we walked toward the gateway that led back to the Muggle world. Some of them were calling Harry and me.
“Bye, Nixie! Bye Harry!”
“Bye Potters!”
“See ya, twins!”
“Still famous, I see,” Ron said, grinning.
“Now where we're going,” Harry replied. “I promise.”
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Bonnie and I could hear someone shouting in the distance.
“There they are mum! Look!” It was obviously a Weasley with her bright red hair and freckles scattered all around her pale face. Ron and the twins had spoken about her a lot of times; it was Ginny, their little sister. “There they are mum! And I can see their-”
“Be quiet, Ginerva!” Mrs. Weasley shushed. “And it's rude to point.” She smiled down at us when we approached. “Hello. Busy year?”
“Very,” I thought back to all the events with a smile.
“Thank you for the sweater,” Harry and I said at the same time, and we glanced uneasily at each other. We sounded a lot like the Weasley twins right then.
Mrs. Weasley beamed, as though she had noticed the similarities as well. “Oh, it was nothing, dear.”
“Are you two coming or what?” Uncle Vernon was blubbering behind us.
I didn't bother to hide my rolling eyes. That man had never frightened me; and after facing Quirrell and Voldemort – and even Snape – I didn't think that my uncle could even make me nervous. I had always had my ways of putting my foot down. A long time ago, I had grown tired of sleeping in the cupboard with Harry, and had bullied Uncle Vernon until he let me move to the attic instead.
“Have a – er – nice holiday?” Hermione said uncertainly. Bonnie was glaring at the back of Uncle Vernon's head.
“Don't worry,” I said, waving my hand dismissively. “He knows better than to mess with me.”
“And we're going to have a bit of fun with Dudley this year,” Harry grinned mischievously. “They don't know that we can't do magic during the summer.”
“Brilliant,” Bonnie smiled, and Hermione didn't even give him a disapproving look.
Hermione left with her parents, and soon it was just Harry and Bonnie and me.
“Bonnie,” I said, when the girl started to walk away with no destination in mind. “You can stay with Harry and me.”
She hesitated, but there was hope in her dark eyes. “Thank you for the offer, Nixie, but I'm not sure your relatives would like the idea.”
“All the more reason for you to come!” I insisted. “Come on, my bedroom is in the attic!”
I knew this would get her excited. She had always complained about the Slytherin Common Rooms being in the dungeons since she liked high ground.
“And I haven't decorated it yet, so we can rearrange it together,” I was bribing now.
“Thank you,” Bonnie said with sincerity. “You really are the best friend in the world.”
I grinned and led her to the Dursleys' car.
“What is she doing here?” Uncle Vernon snapped, a purple vain popping out of his forehead like a giant worm.
“She's part of this family now,” I said, buckling up between Harry and my new sister. “Now drive, I'm tired.”
“We are not having another freak in the house!” Vernon spat.
“We're not freaks,” I said. “And yes you are. She's not going anywhere.”
It took a lot of arguing and bribing and pleading for Vernon to finally agree that she could stay with us, but even so he was reluctant. When we got to Private Drive, Bonnie and I raced up to my bare, undecorated attic.
“It's ugly,” Bonnie said in delight.
“Yup,” I smiled, looking around at the brown, naked walls. “Which means we're going to have to start from scratch.”
This is the end – if you have any questions, just leave them in the comment box and I'll answer them! So, if you're looking for the second book, it is called “Harry Potter's Twin Book Two”. I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you continue to enjoy to Harry Potters Twin series.
Thank you to my readers – it doesn't matter if you've commented or followed or voted, I love you all.