Harry gasps as soon as he steps into the chamber.

This chamber, unlike the others, is empty and spacious, except for the a Mirror of Erised, sitting in the centre of the room. Standing in front of it, his back to us, is Professor Quirrell.

"You!" Harry says, surprised.

Quirrell turns around at the sudden noise, and smiles once he sees Harry and I. "Me," he says calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be seeing you two tonight."

"But," Harry says. "I thought - Snape-"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughs, in a cold tone that doesn't suit him. "Yes, Severus does seem like the type, doesn't he? Who would suspect p-p-poor, s-stuttering Professor Quirrell, next to him," he says, imitating his own, fake stutter.

"I knew it was you," I say confidently, "I knew right from the start."

"Yes, you are quite clever," Quirrell says with a scowl. "Quite clever for your age..."

"I heard you, before my detention after Christmas," I continue, glancing at Harry as I speak. He's staring at me, lost for words. "You were talking to-"

"Yes, I know," Quirrell says, still scowling. "My master warned me that you were outside the door, listening in. I know you've known about me for quite some time."

"But - but Snape," Harry speaks up, still not coming to terms that Quirrell is actually who is after him. "He tried to kill us - at the Quidditch Match - my friends saw-"

"No, no, boy," Quirrell says in a bored tone. "I tried to kill you both at the match. Your friend, Miss Granger, knocked me over on her way to set fire to Severus. I'd have succeeding in killing you if Severus wasn't muttering his little counter-curse."

"Snape, he tried to save us?" I say, bewildered at the thought.

"Of course," Quirrell says coolly. "He certainly did keep an annoyingly close watch on me after that. He wanted to referee the next match so that he could watch me. Funny - I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore there."

"I bet Dumbledore suspected you too." I glare at him.

"No, no," Quirrell says, smiling again. "He has no clue. All of that was a waste of time, when after all that, I am going to kill the both of you tonight."

Before either of us can say anything, Quirrell clicks his fingers and ropes appear out of thin air, to wrap themselves tightly around me, binding my arms to my sides.

I cry out in pain, as the rope tightens against my broken arm. I try to wriggle it free, but it only makes the pain worse, making me give up.

Quirrell laughs, evilly, as he watches Harry and I struggle, and at my pain. I attempt to glare at him, but it doesn't work, making Quirrell laugh at me even harder.

"You two are too nosy," he says, once he finishes laughing. "Scurrying around at Halloween. I hope you had died that night," he says to me. "My troll-"

"Your troll?" I gasp through the pain. "Are you telling us you let the troll in?"

"I guess you could say I have a small gift with trolls. Like the one back there. Isn't it great?" He chuckles as if it's a joke. "Now, wait quietly - I want to examine this mirror."

Quirrell turns his back to us, causing my scar to sear with pain again. Why is my scar burning of all things, when Voldemort isn't even here?

Quirrel stares into the mirror for a few moments. "This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," he says. "Trust Dumbledore to do something like this. Humph, by the time he gets back, I'll have the Stone and be long gone."

I need to find a way to distract Quirrell away from the mirror. We need to keep him talking, or he will get the Stone before us.

"My friends saw you in the forest with Snape," Harry blurts out, obviously having the same idea as me. This must be a twin thing - thinking the same things at similar times.

"Yes," Quirrell says 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...."

He walks back from behind the mirror and stares hungrily into it.

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

From beside me, in the corner of my eye, I see Harry struggling against the ropes again. I refuse to do so as well, considering the pain in my arm will only intensify with every wriggle.

"But Snape always seemed to hate us so much," Harry says, after he gives up on the struggle.

"Oh, he does," Quirrell says casually. "Heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you 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...."

For the first time ever, fear flitters across Quirrell's face.

"Sometimes," he says. "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions - for he is a great and I am weak."

I almost laugh. Quirrell just admitted he was weak. If he believes he's weak, then he'll be easy to overpower.

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

"He is with me wherever I go," Quirrell says quietly. "I met him when I traveled 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 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 shivers. "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...."

His voice trails away for a few moments before he curses under his breath.

"I don't understand...is the Stone inside the Mirror? Should I break it?"

I stare at Quirrell, waiting for him to do or say something, before I start to think about the mirror. How am I going to get the Stone before Quirrell? If he's right, and the Stone is inside the Mirror, I'll have to look into the mirror to get it. But how?

I try and edge to the right a bit, to get a good look in the mirror, but the ropes are too tight against my ankles, and cause me to fall over, landing on my left arm. Upon impact, my right arm sears with the most pain it has all night, making me cry out.

Quirrell ignores me, as he begins to mutter to himself. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

To my surprise, Voldemort's familiar voice rings coldly through the chamber. "Use the children."

"Yes - Potter's - come here!"

Quirrell claps his hands once, and the ropes binding my limbs together fall off, leaving red marks stretched across my skin. I hold onto my right arm which continues to throb, as I slowly step down to where Quirrell is standing.

Quirrell rounds on Harry, who has stayed behind. "Come here, boy," he says. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

I step away from the mirror, as Harry moves forward to stop in front of the mirror. Lie, Harry, I think desperately to myself, you have to lie.

I watch him as he stares, his eyes filled with wonder, into the mirror. I keep repeating to myself for him to lie, as he continues to stare into the mirror.

"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," Harry says suddenly. "I - I've won the house cup for Gryffindor."

I almost smile in relief. He's definitely lying.

Quirrell curses again, before telling Harry to get out of the way. Harry begins to move his way over to me, his pocket bulging. What? Why is his pocket bulging as if something has been shoved in there? Is it the Stone? If so, how did he get it just by looking into the mirror?

Before Harry can reach me, however, Voldemort's voice speaks again. "He lies...the boy lies..."

"Potter!" Quirrell shouts at Harry's back. "Come back here! Tell me the truth! What do you see?"

Voldemort's voice speaks again, before Harry has a chance to say anything, or even look into the mirror. "Let me speak to them...face-to-face..."

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I am strong enough...for this..."

I stand still, petrified. I can't move and I feel as though the ropes are bound against my ankles again, but they aren't. Where can Voldemort be?

Quirrell reaches up to his turban and begins to unwrap it, pulling the material around and around his head, before taking it fully off. His head looks strangely small without it, but why did he take it off?

He smiles at Harry and I evilly, before turning slowly around, turning his back to us.

I scream in fear at the sight of the back of his head. Instead a normal bald head, a very, very ugly face is stuck to it. It's chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils.

It's Lord Voldemort.

"Harry...Sarah...Potter...we meet again..." Voldemort says.

"You see what I've become?" He continues. "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 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 that Stone in your pocket?"

So the bulge in Harry's pocket was the Stone, but how does Voldemort know? He couldn't see Harry then...

As if in fear, Harry stumbles backward, almost falling over before he stops himself from hitting the ground.

"Don't be a fool," Voldemort snarls. "Better save your own lives and join me...or you'll meet the same end as your parents....They died begging me for mercy..."

"YOU LIAR!" I shout at him, anger surging through me.

Quirrell walks backward, so that Voldemort gets closer toward us. The evil face is now smiling.

"How touching..." Voldemort hisses. "I always value bravery...Yes, 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 both...Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"NEVER!" Harry yells and together Harry and I spring backward, trying to get the the doorway, which is still blocked by the black flame.

But Voldemort is too quick. "SEIZE THEM!" She screams at Quirrell, who, in a flash, flies toward us and claps each of his hands around our necks. At once the sharp, needle-like pain sears across the scar on my wrist. I want to clamp my hand around it, but that will only make my arm hurt even more due to the break.

I scream louder than I ever have before, until Quirrell suddenly lets go of my neck. As soon as he lets go, I sit up, massaging my neck with my left hand. I look around hastily to see where Quirrell had gone, and I see him hunched in pain a few feet away, looking at his fingers - they are starting to blister up.

"Seize them! SEIZE THEM!" Voldemort shrieks again, and Quirrell lunges at Harry and I again, forgetting about his blistering fingers. I quickly roll over to avoid his grasp as he knocks Harry off his feet and leans above him, hand around his neck again.

I feel the tears rush down my cheeks as my scar burns and arm sears with pain. Please just make it stop, please, I beg to no one.

I hear Quirrell howl in pain, as he again let's go of Harry neck. "Master, I cannot hold him - my hands - my hands!"

Both of his hands are now blistering from Harry's touch. What's happening? Does Harry suddenly have some magical power that makes peoples' skin blister painfully?

Ignoring me, as I hunch away from Harry, tears rolling down my cheeks from the pain, Quirrell pins Harry down again, but this time with his knees against Harry's chest.

Quirrell keeps howling, as he pins Harry down.

"Kill him, fool, then get to the girl!" Voldemort screeches.

Quirrell raises his hand on command, ready to perform the forbidden curse, before Harry reaches up and slaps his hands against Quirrell's face.

Quirrell screams louder this time, clutching his face as it begins to blister, worse than his hands. He rolls off Harry, leaving Harry free to wrap his hands around Quirrell's arm and not let go.

I begin to scream again, and the pain becomes unbearable. I scream one last time, then I see no more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up to something gold glinting above me. I blink a few times, unable to make out what it is. Is it the Snitch? It sure looks like it.

As soon as my eyes flutter back into focus, I see a pair of glasses glinting above me. I move my head to the side to see Professor Dumbledore, watching me.

"Good afternoon, Sarah," he says calmly.

I stare at him before I remember what happened. "Sir!" I say frantically. "The Stone! It was Professor Quirrell! I've known for ages, quick-"

"Calm yourself, Sarah," Professor Dumbledore says. "You're a little behind the times. Quirrell does not have the Stone."

"Then who does, Sir?" I ask, sitting up.

"Sarah, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will see me out. I was almost sent out with your brother-"

"Harry's awake?" I ask hopefully.

"No, he has since fallen asleep," Professor Dumbledore informs me. "Now, please relax."

I swallow, and take in my surroundings. I'm in the all-too-familiar Hospital Wing. There're the fresh white linen sheets from the last time I was here, but the empty bedside table is instead laden down with gifts and sweets.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," Dumbledore says. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a lavatory seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you."

I laugh out loud. Trust Fred and George to send someone a toilet seat while they're in the Hospital Wing. Speaking of the two pranksters, we need to do an end-of-year prank, and I'm thinking on the whole school...

"Sir, how long have I been here?" I ask.

"Three days," Professor Dumbledore says. "It is now just only two o'clock in the afternoon. Your friends, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, Miss Lupin and Miss Fields have been to visit you and have been very worried."

I smile, hearing that my friends are okay. I look down to my arm, which is now in a cast, no longer pained.

"But sir," I say. "The Stone-"

"I see you are not distracted. Right, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take the Stone from Harry. I arrived in time to prevent that, although, you and Harry did well on your own-"

"I didn't do much sir. Harry did it all," I say, thinking about how much Harry did to save the both of us.

"No. Professor Quirrell couldn't touch you either. You see, your mother, before she died, cast a protection spell on you - therefore, no danger can come to you-"

I stare at Dumbledore. She did? "What about Harry?" I ask.

"Harry - she did not have the time before she was killed."

"So, what does that mean sir?" I ask, wondering what this protection spell actually does.

"It means, that Lord Voldemort can not harm you, even through someone else. The spell can also give a special gift. Have you noticed anything different?"

"No, sir."

"Well it should happen soon, whatever it is."

I nod, processing the information. "So, I guess you got Hermione's letter?"

"Letter? We must have passed in the air," Dumbledore says. "No sooner had I reached London that it became clear that I was needed at the place I just left. I arrived in time to pull Quirrell off Harry and yourself."

"Really? I had no clue, I blacked out." I pause. "So, where's the Stone now?"

"Yes. Now as for the Stone - it has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" I repeat. "But - sir - what about your friend - Nicolas Flamel?"

"So you do know about Nicolas?" Dumbledore says, sounding delighted. "You did do the thing properly. Well, Nicolas and I had a little chat and believed it to be for the best."

"But he and his wife will die."

"They have enough elixir stored to set their affairs in order, but yes, in time, they will die," Dumbledore says, his blue eyes twinkling with sadness.

I look down, poor Nicolas.

"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very long day. After all, to the well organised mind, death is but the next great adventure."

I lay there, lost for words. Though I think about it, what would death feel like?

"But sir, even with the Stone gone, will Vol - You-Know-Who-"

"Call him Voldemort, Sarah," Dumbledore interrupts me. "Always use the name. Fear of a name only increases fear if the thing itself."

"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to find a way to come back, isn't he? I mean, he's not gone forever?"

"No, Sarah. He will find a way, one day. While you and your brother have delayed his comeback, he will merely take someone else's body again and again until he fails; and he may never return."

I nod in understanding. It slightly hurts when I nod, from when Quirrell had his hand clasped around my neck.

"Sir," I say. "Can I ask a few question?"

"The truth," he says in reply. "Is a very beautiful and terrible thing, and should be treated with great caution. However I shall answer your questions unless I have a good reason not to. But, I will not lie."

I nod again. "Well, first, this is kind of unrelated to this particular event, but when you first told me that I was a Potter, I had a lot of questions. Um, first, who is older out of me and Harry?" I know that is the dumbest question I should ask, but I'm curious.

"You and Harry? Harry is exactly three minutes older than you are."

"Damn!" I say out loud. Oops.

"Sorry," I say, biting my lip. "Um, do Harry and I share any God-Parents?"

"Yes. You share a God-Father, but I don't believe this is the time to tell you who that is."

"Is he the one in Azkaban?"

Dumbledore nods.

"He killed a lot of people, didn't he?" I say, remembering what Dad told me when I learnt about my true identity.

"Yes, he did," Dumbledore says.

I nod. "Now to the other nights events questions, sir, um, Voldemort said my mother died because she didn't want him to kill Harry and I. Why would he want to kill us?"

Dumbledore sighs deeply at this question. "Alas, I cannot tell you. Not today. One day, when you are ready."

When I'm ready? That could be ages, years even.

"Why can't Voldemort touch Harry?" I ask. "I know why he can't touch me, but..."

"He cannot touch Harry because, even though your mother cast a spell on you, she died to save you and Harry. That is powerful magic. It is love. That is the one thing Voldemort doesn't have. Love. That is why."

I nod once more. "The invisibility cloak? Who sent it to us?"

"Ah - your fathers cloak. I sent it to you and Harry at Christmas. I borrowed it before your parents were killed," He says, calmly. "Although your father loved to wander at night, to the kitchens, and prank his friends and fellow classmates."

Aah. So that's where I got the mischievous trait from; my father.

"One last question sir."

"Fire away."

"Um, how did Harry get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking the elixir of life," he says, before his eyes flicker to the table littered with sweets. "How about you get started in these sweets. Ah! Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans! I was very unfortunate in my youth to come across a vomit-flavoured one, and since then I've been afraid I've rather lost my liking for them - but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

We both smile as he pops a golden-brown bean j to his mouth. He chokes on the bean and says, "Alas, earwax!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sarah, you're finally awake!"

I open my eyes to see Harry peering at me as he stands inches from my face.

"Harry!" I exclaim, as I fling up and wrap my hands around his neck, but in a friendly way, not the way Quirrell did.

"Woah, Sarah," he laughs as he hugs me back.

I giggle.

"Ron, Hermione, Bonnie and Amy are at the door tying to persuade Madam Pomfrey to let them in," Harry tells me, looking over at the door, where Madam Pomfrey can be seen talking to someone outside the door.

"Come on madam Pomfrey, please," I say to the matron.

"Absolutely not," She says defiantly.

"Please," I put on my puppy dog face. No one can resist my puppy-dog face. I perfected it when I was just three years old.

"Oh, five minutes then," she says, opening the door, in which Ron, Hermione, Bonnie and Amy burst through.

"Sarah! Harry!" Bonnie shrieks as she runs over to my bed and flings her arms around me. "Gosh, you're okay."

"Of course I'm okay," I say. "You didn't think I was going to die, did you?"

She just laughs, relieved, as she throws her arms around Harry as well.

Hermione comes out from around Bonnie and flings her arms around me as well, followed by Harry.

Amy hugs me too, and as the girls hug Harry and I, Ron just stands there watching, not saying a word.

Git.

"Oh Sarah, Harry," Hermione says. "We were sure you were going to - Dumbledore was so worried-"

"The whole schools talking about it," Ron and Amy say in sync.

"What really happened?" Bonnie asks.

I allow Harry to tell the full recount of what happened from the chamber with Quirrell. He tells them all about how it was Quirrell and not Snape, how the Stone was hidden in the mirror and how Voldemort was latched onto the back of Professor Quirrell's head. They are all the best listeners ever; they gasp at the right time, and Bonnie and Hermione scream once Harry tells them about what was under Quirrell's turban.

Harry continues explaining how whenever he touch Quirrell, Quirrell would blister up painfully. After I blacked out, Harry just said that he made Quirrell blister even more and he subconsciously saw Dumbledore pull Quirrell off him.

"So, the Stone's gone?" Ron asks, "Flamel's just going to die?"

"Yes," Harry says.

We're all silent. "So, what happened to you four?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"Well, we got back all right," Hermione says. "I brought Ron round - that took a while - and we were dashing up to the Owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall - he already knew - he just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"D'you think he meant you to do it?" Amy says "Sending you your Dad's cloak and everything?"

"Well," Hermione says. "If he did - I mean to say that's terrible - you could have been killed..."

"No, it isn't," Harry says thoughtfully. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give us a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let Sarah and I find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought we had the right to face Voldemort if we could...."

"Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," Ron snorts.

"Listen, you two have got to come to the feast tomorrow night," Bonnie says. "The points are all in and Slytherin son, of course - you guys also missed the last Quidditch Match. We were slaughtered by Ravenclaw without you both - but, at least the food'll be good."

We all laugh at Bonnie. She and her food...

It's a pity Slytherin won the Cup. I was really hoping Gryffindor would, but considering the last couple of weeks of point loss, I knew we were out of the running.

At that moment Madam Pomfrey comes bustling in again. "You've had fifteen minutes, OUT!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

*crying because there is only one chapter left after this*

Are you kidding? I'm already finishing this book, which I only started about...I dunno the middle of August? Wow.

Anyway, so I hope you guys have enjoyed this rewrite, because I enjoyed writing it, because I was able to make it so much better than it was.

Questions:

1. Have you guys enjoyed this re-write?

2. Do you prefer Apple or Android phones? (Apple, because I'm used to those)

3. Do you like musicals? If so, what's your favourite musical? (I absolutely love musicals. I've only seen perhaps, one or two - the last one being nine months ago and before that I don't even know - but my favourite musical has to be Wicked)

Peace out guys, love you!

~Elise