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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟗: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬

It was Quirrell.

 "You!" Harry and I gasped.

 Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all. "Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter. And you, Dursley?"

 "But I thought — Snape —" 

 "Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp."Yes, Severus 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 in. This couldn't be true, it couldn't. 

"But Snape tried to kill me!" Harry exploded. 

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you."

 "Snape was trying to save me?"

 "Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny 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, I'm going to kill you tonight." 

 Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around harry. 

"NO! LET GO OF HARRY!" I took out my wand. 

 "You're too nosy to live, Potter."

"What about me, Quirrel? Why aren't you —" I started angrily. 

Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around me.  

"Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone," continued Quirrel. 

 "You let the troll in?" 

 "Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls — you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while 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 three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape'sleg off properly. Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror." 

It was only then that I realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror offered. 

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "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 doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror. 

"I saw you and Snape in the forest —" Harry blurted out. 

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me — as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side..." 

 Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it.

 "I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?" 

 Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. He had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror.

He better not do anything, or that's the end of his life from my side. 

 "But Snape always seemed to hate me so much." 

 "Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead." 

 "But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing — I thought Snape was threatening you..." I said, my voice trailing away. 

 For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face. "Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions — he is a great wizard and I am weak —"

 "You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry gasped. 

 "He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. 

Um, wow. 

"I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. LordVoldemort showed me how wrong I was. It is no good 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." 

Quirrell shivered suddenly. 

"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 closer watch on me..."

 Quirrell's voice trailed away. I was remembering my trip to Diagon Alley — how could I have been so stupid? I had seen Quirrell there that very day, shaking hands with me in the LeakyCauldron. 

 Quirrell cursed under his breath. "I don't understand... is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?" 

Harry tried to turn to the right but fell. And Quirrell ignored it.  

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!" 

 And to my horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. 

 "Use the boy... Use the boy..." 

Lord. 

 Quirrell rounded on Harry. "Yes — Potter — come here." 

 He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet.

 "Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see." 

 Harry walked toward him. He must lie, he thought desperately. Come on Harry, that's all.

Quirrell moved close behind him. 

Harry closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again. He saw his reflection, pale and scared-looking at first.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?" 

Harry screwed up his courage. "I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he invented. "I — I've won the house cup forGryffindor." 

What? I mouthed to Harry. 

Harry merely nodded. I could see the words, "Stone," and "pocket," drift from his lips. DID HE JUST— HE'S GOT THE STONE IN HIS POCKET?!

Quirrell cursed again. "Get out of the way," he said. 

As Harry moved aside, a voice croaked, "He lies... He lies..."

 "Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?" 

 The high voice spoke again. "Let me speak to him... face-to-face..." 

 "Master, you are not strong enough!"

 "I have strength enough... for this..."

 I felt as if Devil's Snare was rooting him to the spot. I couldn't move a muscle. Petrified,I watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? Theturban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on thespot. 

 I would have screamed, but I couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a backto Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face I had ever seen. It was chalk whitewith glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake. 

 "Harry Potter..." it whispered. 

 Harry tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldn't move. 

 "See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor... I have formed only when Ican share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their heartsand minds... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks... you saw faithful Quirrelldrinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a bodyof my own... Now... why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?" 

 So he knew. 

Harry stumbled backward. 

"NO—" I started. 

"And who is the girl..." the voice croaked. 

"Diane. Diane Dursley. Harry Potter's cousin," Quirrell said, smiling in a nasty way. 

"Leave her, Quirrell." 

The ropes untied around me. But Quirrell grabbed me. 

"So easy, you thought, Dursley?" he muttered. 

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me... or your precious cousin will die... or you'll meet thesame end as your parents... They died begging me for mercy..." 

 "LIAR!" Harry shouted suddenly. 

 Quirrell was walking backward at him so that Voldemort could still see him. The evil face wasnow smiling. 

 "How touching..." it hissed. "I always value bravery... Yes, boy, your parents were brave... Ikilled your father first, and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn't have died...she was trying to protect you... "

"STOP!" I cried, tears rolling down my eyes. "STOP IT, NO, PLEASE, PLEASE, HE'S MY COUSIN — PLEASE!" 

"And so very touching," Voldemort said, cackling a little. "Kill her." His voice was serious now.

There was a sharp pain, and everything went black. I could hear Harry yell, "DIANE!" but that was it.