With my brother's hand in mine, we descend the cold hard stairs towards the person that has been trying to get the stone this whole school year. From the way that there is a continuous fluttering of wings in my stomach, I can honestly say that I am nervous to my very core. Trust me when I say that having that constant feeling of wanting to vomit isn't very pleasant. This feeling its self isn't very good but it's even worse when you are getting closer to a person that will potentially try to kill you. No matter how much I want to turn back, I keep moving forward because I will not allow my twin brother to do this by himself.
Right as we reach the landing, which is in-between two staircases, I can hear my brother take in a sharp breath while hissing in pain. Quickly looking over, I notice that he has his red sweater covered hand raised toward his scar and the realization that his scar is hurting him again. I squeeze his hand and quietly ask him through the link if he is alright. Harry doesn't turn his attention away from in front of us, but he does nod his head slightly. Still worried about him, I turn my attention back onto the figure standing in the center of the room in front of the Mirror of Erised. Well, I guess we know where Professor Dumbledore put the mirror after talking to us. As we are stepping down the stairs toward the center of the oval room, I realize that the figure definitely isn't Professor Snape.
"You?" my brother says to the figure and Professor Quirrell turns around to look at us. I knew it! I knew that it wasn't going to be the obvious professor but a professor that nobody would ever suspect. Personally, I can safely say that I would never have thought of the nervous and always stuttering Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. That is definitely my fault that I didn't even think about him when thinking of suspects. He was just so forgettable that I honestly didn't even think about this professor being the traitor. My brother's voice makes me pop out of my stupidity, "No, it can't be. Snape, he was the-."
"Yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he?" Quirrell says without stuttering. My eyebrows disappear in my hair line when I realize that he was fake stuttering this entire time. I'll give him credit though, he went through this entire school year with a fake stutter and fooled everybody. Realizing what he just said about my head of the house, a frown appears on my face as I try to keep myself from becoming too angry. "Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, s-s-stuttering Professor Quirrell?" Okay, this guy is officially starting to get on my nerves and that's saying something. Professor Snape in my opinion isn't that bad of a guy. I mean, yes, he isn't the nicest guy around the school, but from the way he interacts with the headmaster makes me believe without any doubt that he wouldn't go against him. Snape has too much respect for him.
"But that day, during the Quidditch match, Snape tried to kill me," Harry is still in complete denial that Snape actually has nothing to do with this. Rolling my eyes, I focus on Quirrell's every single move because if I get any clue that he has his wand, I'm going to surprise attack him. I know for a fact that I can't actually hurt him, but I can still try to do something to protect us. Maybe, erase his memories and then bolt out of the room.
"No, dear boy. I tried to kill you!" Quirrell shouts and my anger is going into overdrive. This man tried to kill my big brother! Unlike the smart idea of taking out my wand and use some spells, my first instinct is to go the Muggle rout and try to attack him with my fists. With my blood starting to boil, I try to walk towards him, but my brother holds me back. "If Snape's cloak hadn't caught fire and broken my eye contact I would have succeeded! Even with Snape muttering his little countercurse."
Okay, now he has done it! I start to thrash around even more, and a look of pure hatred is permanent on my face. While trying to get away from my brother, I notice a smirk starting to form on that stupid man's face.
"Well, if you find this so amusing why don't you come over here and meet my fists!" I growl in my mind before shoving it into his. I don't know if that will work but I do it anyway. Unfortunately, his behavior doesn't change so I'm going to assume that my thoughts didn't reach this horrible man.
"I should have gotten rid of you first, girl. You would have been a lot easier to get rid of," he says, and my body instantly freezes at his words, "You wouldn't have been able to scream or fight against me. Unfortunately, I wanted to save the easiest one for last." H-He is right.... I would have been easier to kill. I can't even speak let alone scream. My anger is slowly disappearing with fear taking over. I can feel my brother pull me closer to him as he talks again.
"B-But I don't understand! Snape tried to save me? Why did you try to kill me? Us?" Harry calls to him while I breathe in heavily from all the exertion. My body is slowly starting to get tired, but I force myself to not focus on the tiredness. Even though I am more afraid of Quirrell than I am angry, I continue to glare at him while keeping my hand close to where my wand is.
"I knew you two were a danger to me, especially after Halloween. Well, in the very least I knew that you were a danger to me."
"Then he must have let the troll in, big brother!" I say through the link and my brother repeats my prediction.
"Very good, Potter, yes. Snape, unfortunately, wasn't fooled," Quirrell instantly gets a scowl on his face at the mention of the potion master. My lips slightly twitch in a smirk when I quickly realize that he must have heard Quirrell's thoughts. "While everyone ran about, he went to the third floor to head me off. He, of course, never trusted me again," he states as he turns toward the mirror. Of course, he wouldn't have trusted him again! Only a fool would trust someone who let in the mountain troll and thought that he wouldn't do it again! I mean, come on! Nobody is that low intelligent! Right before the man in the purple turban starts talking again, my brother hisses in pain again as he holds his scar. "He rarely left me alone, but he doesn't understand. I'm never alone. Never."
My brows furrow in confusion at his last words. Is he talking about his religion? No, that can't be it because he doesn't seem like the type that would have a religion. After a minute of guessing why he said that, my mind comes up with a blank and I internally just shrug my shoulders.
"Now, what does this mirror do?" the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher asks as he gives his full attention to the mirror. A few seconds pass before he inhales a gasp, "I see what I desire! I can see myself holding the stone, but how do I get it?" His attitude is getting more frustrated and less patient.
"Use the boy!" a raspy voice echoes throughout the room making my brother and I look around the room. Unfortunately, all I can see is the cement walls, stairs, and the pillars that keep the ceiling up. I don't see anyone else. The professor quickly spins around before raising his hand up to us.
"Come here, Potter! Now!" he shouts and my fear spikes at the anger inside his voice. Yet, at the same time my own anger is starting to rise again. Realizing that my brother is starting to go to the mirror, I grab his arm and pull him back towards me. I frantically shake my head from side to side as I keep glaring at the adult male. Harry grabs my hand again and pulls me along with him as he walks toward the Mirror of Erised again. Keeping my eyes on Quirrell the whole time, I can feel my fear and anger levels rise as we get closer to him. Right as we are in front of the mirror, my body is almost at the level of "fight or flight" and I'm kind of leaning towards fighting him. "Tell me, what do you see?"
As my brother is looking into the mirror, I notice that the adult is completely focused on him. Taking my chance, I slowly move away from them both and go behind the mirror. Thankfully, neither of them noticed that I have disappeared, and I take the opportunity to take a quiet deep breath in. Okay, now is my chance to come up with a plan to get my brother and I out of this situation. I mean, for goodness sake I am in Slytherin! I can come up with a plan to be sly and sneaky. Think, think, think!
"What is it? What do you see?" Quirrell's shout startles me making me jump slightly. Keeping my breath slow and even, I listen to my brother's response as I continue to come up with a plan.
"I'm shaking hands with Dumbledore! I've won the house cup," my twin's responds to him. From the shaking and stuttering in his voice, I know that my brother is lying, and my mind briefly stops to think about what he actually saw.
"He lies! Use the girl to get him to talk," the voice whispers throughout the room again. At the mention of me, I stop breathing for a second before I continue to stay as quiet as possible. The rustling of cloth makes my eyes widen and I start to pray that he doesn't look behind the mirror.
"Girl! Where are you?" he shouts, and I cover my mouth with my hand to keep my breathing as quiet as possible. Instead of actually looking for me, I hear a little bit more rustling before a grunt is coming from him, "It seems, Potter, that your own sister would abandon you." I frantically shake my head and hope that my brother knows that I would never do that. Before anything else is said, the disembodied voice appears again but this time it sounds like it has had enough.
"Let me speak to him," the voice says, and I realize that I'm about to meet the person that somehow knows when someone is a lie. I wonder if this person has the same ability as Professor Snape. No, if that is the truth then the person would know that I am still here.
"Master, you are not strong enough," I hear Professor Quirrell's submissive voice say, but the voice doesn't listen to his servant.
"I have strength enough for thisssss," the person says, and I notice that his sentence ends like a snake hissing. Taking the chance, I quietly sneak my head out from behind the mirror, and I watch as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher slowly unwind his turban from around his head. Seeing some movement out of the corner of my eye, I look over to see my brother looking frightened while stepping back towards the staircase. Feeling bad that I left him alone, I turn back towards the adult and realize that he is taking the last part off his head. Moving my head towards behind the mirror again, I can't believe my eyes as I see a second face on the back of Quirrell's head. My heartbeat quickens as I hide behind the mirror again. Oh, my Godric! How is that possible?!
"Harry Potter," the voice, person, face says, and I can feel frightened tears are cascading down my face. Now, I am truly sorry that I left my brother alone, but I thought I was doing the right thing. The voice breaks me out of my guilt, but is quickly replaced with even more fear, "...we meet again." There is only one person that would be meeting us again.
"Voldemort," Harry whispers and my blood runs cold. Gulping down my fear and saliva, I slowly inch my face around the mirror, so I can peek to see what is going on. The first thing that I notice is that Voldemort's face is watching my brother through the mirror.
"Yessss. You see what I've become? See what I must do to survive? Live off another. A mere parasite. Unicorn blood may sustain me, but it cannot give me a body of my own. There is something, however, that can. That something is, conveniently enough, lies in your pocket," Voldemort says, and my brother looks even more alarmed. Quickly looking down towards his pocket, he turns around and starts to rush for the stairs that lead out of the room. Cheering him on in my mind, I watch him take a few steps before I realize that if he leaves I'll be all alone with Voldemort, the most dangerous man of all time. Before I could worry about that more, I hear Voldemort shout at Quirrell, "No! Stop him!"
As my brother is rushing up the stairs, I watch as Quirrell snaps his fingers and fire appears all around the room making it impossible for anyone to escape. Unfortunately, the fires roaring to life out of no where makes a small shriek escape my lips, and I quickly duck behind the mirror again. At this point my heart is beating so fast that I might actually have a heart attack.
"Don't be a fool. Why suffer a horrific death when you can join me and live?" Voldemort asks my brother and I frantically shake my head. My brother will never agree to joining the same man that killed our parents.
"Never!" Harry shouts and I smile knowing that I am correct. We may be children, but it doesn't mean that we have low intelligence. Unfortunately, before I can think further I hear the bone chilling chuckle of the murderous man, well face.
"Bravery. Your parents had it too. Tell me, Harry, would you like to see your mother and father again? One big happy family with them and your sister. Together we can bring them back. Just give me the stone!" Voldemort tries to persuade my brother, and the offer is tempting. I mean, throughout my life I just wanted for my parents to be here. To be one big happy family. The offer is slowly losing its gleam when something he said struck me. He wants the stone and then he will become an entire being again. My brain starts shouting at me that he is a liar. This man has killed many people including my parents and I wouldn't put it past him to lie.
"Brother! Don't do this! He is lying to you. Mom and Dad would not want you to bring them back by giving him the stone," I urgently say through the mind link as my body is starting to get drowsier from all of the emotions and stress from today. Shaking my head, I peek out from behind the mirror again and I watch with pride as my brother looks at the man with hatred.
"You liar!" my brother shouts, but instead of attacking my brother or anything, Voldemort's eyes snap to me and I gasp in fear. As I start to duck behind the mirror again, I feel a firm hand grasp my forearm and yank me out of my hiding spot. A whimper escapes my lips as I try to get my arm free from Quirrell/Voldemort.
"Potter, give me the stone! Or your sister is going to die," Voldemort shouts to my brother and my eyes widen even more. Making my moves more frantic, I shout for my brother through the link and I can see him moving closer in the mirror.
"Fine! I'll give you the stone, but you have to leave my twin sister alone!" he says as he stops a few feet away from us. Not focusing on them, I continue to through my weight away from the despicable man when a burning starts to happen around my wrists. Hissing in pain, I glance down at my wrists to realize that it is those old looking bracelets that I got for Christmas are heating up. As they continue to heat up, I can feel courage and anger rising just as fast. With my fear disappearing, I look over at my brother and not struggle anymore. I realize that he is about to give Voldemort the Sorcerer's Stone! Glaring, I look up at Quirrell's face and decide to do what I have been wanting to do since I have arrived. With my right hand raised, I punch Professor Quirrell straight in the jaw sending his head straight back and his grip disappears from my arm as he touches his face.
Grabbing my big brother, we take a few steps away from Voldemort/Quirrell, and I look at my brother's hand to, thankfully, see the stone. Smiling in relief, I focus back on the adult male and I realize that Voldemort has finally had enough.
"Kill them!" he shouts and Quirrell jumps into the air before gliding toward us. He wraps his hands around our necks and slams us into the stone steps behind us. Unfortunately, when my body met the steps, my head slams into them making my vision blur. Combine the blurry vision with the air circulation cut off, it isn't a very good scenario. Starting to gasp in no air, I grab onto the arm and scratch at it hoping that the pain will make him get off me. As I start to black out from the lack of oxygen, I hear a faint sizzling from beside me, but I mostly hear my frantic heartbeat pounding in my ears. Some shouting is quickly followed by the sizzling and the hand around my neck is quickly taken away from my throat.
Sucking in air, I grab my throat as I cough at the soreness. My vision is still slightly blurry, but I can make out the figure of Quirrell a few feet away from us. As my air starts to come back, the pounding of my injured head makes me alternate between my throat and head. The muffled voice of Voldemort makes me whimper in fear, and I try to fold into myself to not get hurt more. Glancing up, I watch as my vision focuses again, and my brother rushes toward Quirrell. As he reaches the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Harry places his hands over Quirrell's face and steam along with the sizzling noise appears underneath his hands. Looking closer, I realize that the professor's, well ex-professor's, skin is turning into dry dirt or clay. Quirrell is screaming in pain, but my brother doesn't stop holding onto his face. I've never seen or read about magic that is anything like this. Finally, my brother pushes Quirrell/Voldemort away into a wall and his face is entire all cracked with some of it falling off. He isn't shouting anymore nor, can he even see, but he still tries to get my brother. Quirrell reaches his arm out for my brother and starts to walk, but he doesn't even step a few feet before he crumbles into dust with only his clothes left behind.
Big brother stands there staring at the remains of our old professor before another whimper of pain causes him to turn toward me. He rushes toward me and kneels in front of me.
"Sister, are you alright?" he asks, but I shake my head. Unfortunately, that only causes my throat to hurt more and that makes tears fall from all the pain. The tears are not only from the pain, but also from the relief that my brother defeated Voldemort again. He looks sad as he looks next to me and grabs the scarlet Sorcerer's Stone. As if it is a peace offering, he gives me the stone and I give him a painfilled smile as I look down at the stone. "Sister, where are you hurt? The neck?"
"Y-Yes, but my head is also hurting from hitting the stairs," I say through the link, and I can feel a slight pressure on my forehead as he kisses my head. Looking up at him, he gives me a sad smile before holding his hand out for me to take. Wiping my tears away, I grab his hand and let him help me up from the ground. Still feeling guilty about hiding behind the mirror, I hug him while repeating sorry over and over again.
"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything wrong," he whispers as he hugs me back.
"B-But I hid and left you all alone. I thought that if I could hide from them then I could come up with a plan, but I couldn't think of anything. I'm sorry, big brother," I say in his mind as I continue to hold onto him.
"Anastasia, I know that you would never leave me. I understand that you thought that you were doing the right thing. I'm not mad or upset with you," he says as he pulls away from the hug. He gives me a smile which makes me give a happy smile in return.
Unfortunately, our sibling moment is ruined when I notice something forming from the ashes of Quirrell. Pointing at the ash cloud, my brother looks over just in time to see the face of Voldemort appear in the cloud of ash making us both pale in fear. The dead soul of Voldemort starts screaming before rushing at us and ends up going through us. I can hear my brother yell as I scream in my head before we both fall and land against the cold stone floor. Big brother ends up getting knocked out while my head hits the floor for the second time, which makes me feel like my head is being split into two pieces. Just as I'm about to fall unconscious, I hear footsteps rushing down the stairs and heat diminishing from my face. Sadly, before I can see who it is I fall into unconsciousness with my twin brother. The last thought that passes through my mind is, "Did we do our parents proud?"