Chapter 106
Quirrell cast the curse three more times on the orders of Lord Voldemort, reducing the boy to a blubbering mess on the floor.
Perhaps deciding that this was enough time wasted, his master spoke to him, "That's enough. Make sure his bindings are secure. And see how the Mirror is hiding the stone. I can't see through the first layer of basic wards in my current form. Dumbledore intended Potter to find the stone. Which means that there is a back door, some sort of puzzle or key action that will give us the stone. Find it. "
"Yes My Lord," Quirrell replied before waving his wand, tightening the bindings on the whimpering child even more. Then he turned around towards the mirror and started examining it.
"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, relaxing a bit now that his master was asleep, tapping his way around the frame of the Mirror of Erised with his wand. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this…"
Quirrell started as he heard a small groan from behind him. The boy was moving around now. "You're lucky master is resting. He likes his victims to stay down." Quirinus said over his shoulder. "Don't move too much. It'll only hurt more."
The boy was going to be dead soon anyway. Might as well save him the needless pain, Quirrell thought, feeling a tiny bit of sympathy for the kid that had just experienced the worst pain he'd probably felt in his entire short life.
"Speaking from experience?" came the wavering and trembling voice of the boy.
"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "Sometimes…sometimes, I find it hard to follow my master's instructions…he is a great wizard and I am…weak."
He moved back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it. "I see the Stone…" he muttered to himself, "I'm presenting it to my master…but where is it?"
"Was he there in the classroom with you? Near the students?" the boy gasped out, pain evident in his voice.
"He is with me wherever I go," replied Quirrell quietly, not seeing the harm in satisfying the curiosity of a soon to be dead boy. "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."
He shivered suddenly, the memory of the night in Leaky Cauldron when his master had made him cast the Cruciatus on himself rising to the forefront of his mind. "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..."
Focusing back on the mirror Quirrell cursed under his breath, reading the inverted inscription again.
"I don't understand…is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"
For a moment, he stood there clueless before he decided not to waste time and ask for help. Gulping down the small vial of Unicorn blood he had in his pocket, he spoke, "Help me, master!"
With a strange feeling, he could feel the face on the back of his head come alive. He could feel his master in his head, pondering all he'd seen, before he spoke. "Use the boy…"
Quirrell rounded on the boy. Of course! If Dumbledore intended Potter to find the stone, then using him made sense. Perhaps the mirror would only give the stone to people of a certain age, or physical feature.
He waved his wand, levitating the tightly bound boy upright and floating him over to the mirror. He felt his master extend a significant portion of his own magic towards the boy and envelope him, making sure he'd know if the boy was lying.
Quirrell instructed the boy strictly, "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."
The boy looked at the mirror, and then glanced longingly at the reflection.
"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"
With some hesitation, the boy replied, "I see myself and my friends in the Great Hall, safe. Away from here."
"It's true." came the hissing confirmation of what Quirrell was dreading.
"Damn it!" Quirrell cursed again before waving his wand and sending Potter back to where he was lying earlier. "I'd hoped to avoid drawing too much attention, but ripping through the wards is the only way," he said. As Harry moved aside, he saw Quirrell take out his wand and start waving it.
"Damn it!" Quirrell cursed as he mistakenly latched onto a magic draining ward that started sucking on his core. "These wards are too detailed. I can't get through the second layer. Help me, master."
His Lord spoke. "Let me see it. Give me the control."
"Master, you are not strong enough!" Quirrel whispered fervently, trying to persuade his master to not take over his body. It always ended in too much pain for him.
"I have strength enough…for this…"
Quirrell felt pain equivalent to a dozen Cruciatus curses as the face behind his head sunk back into his skull. Lord Voldemort was taking full possession of his body.
.
.
.
.
.
🐉 patreon.com/William777🐉
Subscribe to my Patreon for more advanced chapters