"How touching …" Voldemort face hissed. "I always value bravery … especially coming from people with sacred gears … I killed many of your kind, Grayson … but you are the first one to make my soul shiver … something unheard of… Now move aside to that Harry could give me the Stone unless you want to die alongside your friend in the worst way known to man."
But contrary to what someone in his position might have done, Thomas stood defiantly, glancing at Voldemort and showing no fear. He had faced far worse beings than the Dark Lord and his threats, yet that wasn't the reason why Thomas didn't react in any way. His transformation changed something in him, almost like he was looking forward to this fight, it made him yearn for it.
Seeing that the boy wasn't going to give him the stone, Voldemort prepared to cast the Killing Curse at both Thomas and Harry. However, Thomas wasn't just going to stand there and eat the killing curse.
Almost as soon as Quirrell fired the Killing Curse, Thomas raised his hand and summoned a shield charm, slightly stopping the curse for a split second, time in which he dodge to the right. Before he swiftly retaliated with a barrage of spells, combining both the charms that he had learned and the spell Latia taught him.
Expelliarmus, Stupefy, Protego followed by fireballs, wind slashes, or even large boulders, but unfortunately for Thomas, Quirrell managed to deflect those charms and spells effortlessly, while at the same time, his dark magic countering the boy's every move. Despite Thomas's efforts, a few curses managed to slip through his defenses. The impact sent Thomas back quite a few meters, as he kneeled on one knee, gritting his teeth. Pain coursed through him, threatening to undermine his mind. Yet, his only saving grace was his balance breaker state, which saved his life even in the face of the killing curse.
Despite the pain, Thomas staggered to his feet, as his now draconic eyes were fixed on Quirrell's figure. Despite the odds stacked against him, he refused to yield. He refuses to be taken down by nothing more than a foul soul trapped in a husk of a man.
For the second time tonight, Voldemort/Quirrell couldn't believe his eyes. What should have killed even an ultimate being, only injured the eleven years boys clad in armor that stood in front of him. Thought that didn't stop him from attacking the boy once again.
The moment the second killing curse hit Thomas, his primal instincts took over his body. Ignoring the searing pain coursing through his body and fueled by anger, he charged forward at Quirrell. Each step he took seemed to shake the very foundations of the chamber.
Once again that didn't stop Voldemort from unleashing a barrage of Killing Curses at Thomas, who advanced without hesitation. Moreover, even though, the curses struck him, causing him unimaginable agony, he pressed on, as his armor absorbed the brunt of the curses. Pieces of his protective armor started falling away, turning into molten metal before vanishing into the air. Thomas's draconic eyes made Quirrell shiver as the boy fired back spells and charms that stopped one or two of the killing curses from hitting him.
Strangely enough, despite the overwhelming odds, Thomas persisted, fighting with every fiber of his being. But even with his newfound power, Thomas couldn't escape the toll that the Killing Curses took upon him. The pain intensified with every strike, threatening to overwhelm his senses. His body was slowly being destroyed and sooner or later he would succumb to his wounds. Blood dripped from them as he stood before Quirrell while his armor, was now tattered and weakened with large pieces of it destroyed showing Thomas' burned skin underneath the armor.
"I will not be defeated," Thomas growled through his gritted teeth.
Before either the pawn or master could react, Thomas lunged forward, catching Quirrell off-guard. He closed the distance between them in an instant, as he punched Quirrell's face. Each strike was fueled by the pain and suffering he had endured. As soon as the second punch hit his face, Quirrell staggered backward, as his grip on his wand lose making the wand fall to the ground. The abomination within him somehow gained control over his body and forced Quirrell to retaliate. With his bloody face being punched, Quirrell found his wand near him and thrust right into the boy's side piercing its skin and his flesh before unleashing a killing curse right inside of his body. In that split second, Thomas's body absorbed the curse, as it kept tearing through his already battered body and soon agony took over his mind as the curse rip through his flesh and bones. Then his eyes widened in sheer agony before he collapsed to the ground, looking like a lifeless heap of battered flesh and shattered dreams.
Time seemed to stand still as Harry, paralyzed with shock and grief, look at his friend's body hitting the ground. His trembling hands reached into his pocket trying to find the stone, hoping to bring his friend back to life as tears streamed down his cheeks. That was the last thing Harry saw as he knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down … down … down …
Sometime later, something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy.
Then he blinked realizing that it wasn't the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. Making Harry think how strange this was. Once more, he blinked again and the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.
"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.
Harry stared at him. Then he remembered. "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Thomas! He… Sir, please help…"
"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore. "Quirrell does not have the Stone and Thomas is in good hands, don't worry."
"But how? Sir, I…"
"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."
Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realized he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet-shop. Taking a deep breath, Harry then turned his attention back to the headmaster.
"How long have I been in here?"
"Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley, Mr. Adam Wood, Mr. Michael MacKenzie, Mr. James O'Sullivan, and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come around, they have been extremely worried for both of you. And while they can't see Thomas yet, I told them he's doing better than when I found you two, three days ago."
"But sir, what about the stone?"
"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although I have to admit that Thomas did quite the number on him, I must say."
"You got there? You got Hermione's owl?"
"We must have crossed in mid-air. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you …"
"It was you."
"I feared I might be too late."
"You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer even though Thomas sacrificed himself…"
"Not the Stone, boy, you, Quirrell was going to choke you to death. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid he managed. As for the Stone, it got consumed."
"Consumed?" said Harry blankly, having no idea what the headmaster was referring to. "But your friend Nicolas Flamel …"
"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You kids did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat about what happened and how it got consumed but due to some rather sensitive intervention, I will not reveal to you what happened in detail."
"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"
"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."
Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Harry's face.
"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, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all, the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things which are worst for them."
"Then sir, would it be possible for me to see Thomas? What happened to him was due to me being weak…"
"I'm afraid that's not possible, Harry."
"Why?"
Dumbledore sighed, as he look down, almost as if he was blaming himself for putting the boy in such a state. "Harry, what happened to Thomas was not solely due to your weakness. I should have known better than Quirrell was not the man that taught last year when he started acting all different."
Harry's eyes pleaded for an explanation, no, for a chance to understand and perhaps find solace in the midst of his grief. Dumbledore continued in a gentler voice filled with sadness. "As for Thomas, he is no longer here at Hogwarts. The simple fact that he's still alive after everything that his body had gone through is nothing short of a miracle."
"So, he's alive? But where is he? Can I see him?"
Dumbledore's expression grew more serious as he gently shook his head. "No, Harry, I'm afraid that's not possible. Thomas has been taken by someone that he was supposed to meet yesterday. But don't worry when he will wake up, I promise you, that you will be the first person to know about it."
Harry lay there, lost for words, but glad that his friend was at least being taken care of despite not knowing when he would be able to talk with him again. At the same time, Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.
"Sir?" said Harry. "I've been thinking … Sir, even if the Stone's gone, Vol– … I mean, You-Know-Who …"
'Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.'
'Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?'
"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share … not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die, he shows just as little mercy to his followers as he shows to his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you and Thomas may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time, and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."
Harry nodded but stopped quickly because it made his head hurt. Then he said, "Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know if you can tell me … things I want to know the truth about …"
"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."
Meanwhile in a luxurious room, Serafall Leviathan and Ajuka Beelzebub, stood side by side, while looking at the boy that was resting on a king size bed and his entire body still bear the visible scars of the battle he had gone thought.
Serafall's expression was filled with concern, as she couldn't help herself from imagining just what Thomas had to go thought for his body to be in such a horrible state. "Ajuka, will he be alright?"
"I understand your concern, Serafall, but just like you I know little to nothing about how the boy that managed to consume the philosopher stone and actually start healing his body even though he had been hit by that curse. Which is something no had done."
"But, Ajuka, you know as well as I do that the Killing Curse is not something one survives. No one in the wizarding world or even outside of it has ever been known to survive it. Not even an ultimate being could take it and survive."
"Indeed, Serafall, it is a rarity. But if I were to guess, this has something to do with his sacred gear, but without him conscious ,I can't find more than this or how he consumed the stone."
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