It was Quirrell. "You!" Harry asked as I gasped in shock. Quirrell smiled, but it wasn't warm and comforting, it was cold and evil. His face wasn't twitching at all like it usually was. "Me." He said calmly, eyes lingering on me for a second and his smirk seemed to increase. "I wondered if I'd be meeting you here, Black."
"But we thought - Snape -" I started, but was cut off when Quirrell laughed. It wasn't his usual tremble, either. It was cold and sharp. "Severus? Yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him who would suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"
I couldn't take it all in, and by the look on Harry's face neither could he. "But Snape tried to kill me!" Harry said, but it sounded more like a question. "No, no, no. I tired to kill you! Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at the Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom and moved onto Black. I'd have managed to get rid of you both if Snape wasn't muttering a counter-curse, trying to save you."
"Snape was trying to save me?" Harry asked, and my eyebrows rose in confusion. "Of course. Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really... he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular... and what a waste of time, when after all that, Potter, I'm going to kill you tonight." Quirrell hissed.
I jumped in front of Harry protectively, him putting a hand on my waist ready to pull me back if Quirrell tried anything. The devil snapped his fingers, and ropes shot out of thin air and wrapped themselves around us, seemingly tightening the more we struggled.
"Your too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school at Halloween like that. For all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the stone." Quirrell said, returning his attention back to Harry, who now beside me again, still tied up.
"You let that troll in?" Harry asked, making Quirell smirk and nod his head. "Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls, surely you must have seen what I did to the one in chamber bank there? Unfortunately, whilst everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off - and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that stupid three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly."
I felt like I was going to sick. "Now, wait quietly, Potter, Black. I need to examine this interesting mirror."'
Was the mirror of erised always behind him? Yes? Oh. Well then I really need to start paying attention to things. "This mirror is the key to finding the stone. Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this... but he's in London... I'll be far away by the time he gets back."
All I could think of was trying to keep Quirrell talking and to stop him focussing on the mirror, it's the only thing I could think of. "We saw you and Snape in the forest." I blurted out without thinking. Harry looked at me with a worried expression, shaking his head madly.
"Yes, He was on to me by then. Trying to figure out how far I'd gotten. He suspected me all along, tried to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side..." Quirrell said idly, walking behind the mirror and then back to the front.
"I see the Stone. I'm presenting it to my master. But where is it?!" Quirrell hissed as Harry started struggling against his ropes. "But Snape always seemed to hate us so much."
"Oh, he does. Heavens yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father and your uncle, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead." Quirrell waved us off as if he thought we weren't worth his time.
"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing. I thought Snape was threatening you." Harry said, and for the first time a flicker of fear crossed Quirrell's face. "Sometimes I find it hard to follow my master's orders. He is a great wizard and I am weak..."
"You mean he was in the classroom with you?" I gasped, looking at Harry who looked as surprised as I was. "He is with me wherever I go. I met him when I was travelling around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it. Since then I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me. He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts he was most displeased. He punished me... decided he would have to keep a close watch on me..." Quirrell shuddered.
Harry looked like he was in deep thought about something, and my mind flashed back to that newspaper article about the break in at Gringotts. Quirrell cursed under his breath. "I don't understand! Is the stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"
My heart rate quickened and my mind began racing with what to do next. Getting out of these ropes would probably help, by they were getting tighter and tighter as if they were reading my thoughts. Harry looked directly into the mirror, and his face flashed with recognition.
I tried to look into the mirror, but only succeeded in falling over. So now I was lying on the floor watching the scene instead of standing up. Harry tired to move to help, and Quirrell just ignored me.
"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, master!" Quirrell said into thin air, and to my complete and utter horror, a voice answered him. "Use the children. Use the children!"
Quirrell rounded on us, snapping his fingers and making the ropes fall off us. I scrambled to my feet. "Come here Potter! Black! Come here and look into the Mirror and tell me what you see!"
Okay, Silvia. Your a good liar, just look and lie about what you see. Easy. Quirrel moved close behind us, me trying not to breathe in that horrible smell coming from his turban. Harry and I stood in front of the mirror.
I saw my reflection, bruised and bloody and pale, looking frightened up at me. My reflection was holding hands with Harry, who looked almost as scared as me. My reflection smirked at me, eyes flashing with mischief, pulling the wand out of her boot and waving it, the stone appearing in her hand. Reflection me smirked at me and winked, putting the stone in Harry's pocket. As it did so, Harry gasped, his hand slowly itching towards his pocket, where I noticed a bulge with something inside. He'd got the stone.
"Well? What do you see?" Quirrell asked impatiently. "I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore. I- I've won the house cup for Gryffindor." Harry made up of the top of his head. It was okay, but it could be better. Quirrell snarled and pushed Harry out of the way, grabbing my arm and forcing me in front of the mirror. "And you?"
"I see my parents. They're alive, and we're happy." I said, my eyes filling up with tears to add a dramatic effect. Quirrel cursed, throwing me to the side and into Harry's arms. When Quirrel turned to look in front of the mirror, I was debating on making a break for it, but couldn't get anywhere because that same high, cold voice whispered again. The sound seemed to be coming from Quirrell, but his lips were not moving.
"They lie... they lie..."
"But the girl-"
"She is just a good liar, speak to them again!"
"Potter, Black come back here! Tell me the truth! What do you see?!"
The high voice spoke again, shivers running down my spine. "Let me speak to them... face to face."
"Master you are not strong enough!"
"I have strength enough... for this..."
I felt as if Devil's Snare was rooting me to the spot, no matter how much I wanted to make a break for it my feet refused to move. Petrified, I watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What the bloody hell was going on? The turban fell away, and Quirrell's head looked oddly small without it. He slowly turned around, and a horrible scream tore through my throat, Harry grabbing me in his arms and backing away quickly.
Where there should have been the back of Quirrell's head, there was a face. The modus ugly and horrible face I had ever seen. It was chalk white, glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.
"Harry Potter... Silvia Black..." it whispered. "See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapour... 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 last few weeks... you saw young faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir Of Life, I will be able to create of a body of my own. Now... why don't you give me that stone in your pocket?"
So he knew. I inhaled sharply and turned to Harry, who gripped my hand in his and stumbled backwards. "Don't be fools... better save your life and join me, or you will meet the same end as both of your parents, they died begging for mercy and because they weren't good enough." The face hissed, murderous red eyes narrowed.
"LIAR!" Harry and I shouted in unison, glaring at the face of Voldemort. Quirell was slowly walking backwards towards us, so that Voldemort could still see us. Hey, recon if I tripped Quirrell up Voldemort would fall flat on his face?
Harry grabbed my hand, pulling me backwards. The evil face was now smirking. "How touching... I always value bravery... yes, both your parents were brave... I killed the potters last, I killed the father and then the mother, who was trying to protect you. Black, your father was a faithful death eater... until he married a worthless muggle and had you. He tried to get out of it; but I wouldn't let him go that easy. I killed them both, and would have you if I didn't need to go and get the potter's and kill them... now give me the stone unless you want them to die in vain."
"NEVER!"
We both ran towards the flame door, hand in hand, but I was pulled back when Quirrell grabbed Harry's wrist. "SEIZE THEM!" Voldemort hissed, and I turned around to see Quirrell had gone and saw him hunched in pain, clutching at his fingers with one hand, which were blistering and crumbling before our eyes.
"Seize them! SEIZE THEM!" Shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell laughed, knocking Harry off his feet, both hands around his neck. I ran towards them, prying Quirrell's hands off Harry, but Quirrell pulled out his wand.
"REDUCTO!" He screamed, hitting me square in the chest with a bolt of red light. I flew through the air, my head smashing into the stone with a sickening crack. Blood dripped down my face and I felt terrible pain in my shoulder, looking down to see the sharp handle of the torch bracket piercing through my arm. I fell down the wall, landing at the bottom in a crumpled heap of pain and blood, the world going black.
Harry's P.O.V:
"REDUCTO!" Quirrell shouted, his wand pointed straight at Silvia's chest. My eyes widened in fear and I tried to shout out to her, but the sound was drowned out by a blood-curdling scream and a bang of red light. She flew through the air, hitting the wall with a sickening crack.
I thrashed around under the weight of Quirrell's hands around my neck, but it was no use. The handle of the torch bracket pierced her shoulder, the wounds on her head and shoulder spitting blood. She fell down the wall, her face as white as a fresh blanket of snow.
Her eyes were closed and she wasn't moving. Anger began to boil inside me, and I pushed Quirrell away, who was whimpering in agony. "Master, I cannot hold him! My hands, my hands!"
And Quirrell, though pinning me to the ground with his knees, let go of my neck and stared bewildered at his hands, which were burnt raw, red and shiny. "Then kill him, fool, like you did the girl, and be done!"
Hearing him say that made me angry beyond belief as I lunged forward, grabbing Quirrell's face. "AAAARGH!" Quirrell rolled off me, his face blistering too, and then I knew that he couldn't touch me without experiencing extreme pain.
I jumped to my feet, grabbing Quirrell by the arm and holding on as tight as I could, the pain in my head heightening to the point where I felt like I was going to pass out. I couldn't see, I could only hear Quirrell's terrible screams of agony and Voldemort's yells of "KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!"
Then I heard something else. Three voices, perhaps in my own head, crying screaming "HARRY! HARRY!" Quirrell's arm wrenched from my grasp and I realised that all was lost. I was falling into blackness, until the world was gone.