The Rules of the Game

Chapter 12

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When I got to the door and scanned it real quick I was a bit annoyed. Alohamora... fucking Alohamora, a first year spell was all that was guarding this door. Who the hell was Dumbledore thinking that was going to keep out? Trying not to be too annoyed I turned back to my task and took care of Fluffy with a flute transfigured from one of my hidden needles. Devil’s Snare was obvious enough and it was pretty comfortable laying on the stuff as is, maybe I would plant some around my Aunt and Uncle\'s house. The bird-key was easily summoned from the air, I didn\'t even want to waist time getting on one of those rickety old brooms, they looked questionable enough as it was. The troll was thankfully already knocked out for I\'m sure the stench might have done me in. I enjoyed the chess, it was easy since Draco had been teaching me but again I was impatient to reach the end of this circus and see what I had come for. The only thing remotely worth while had been the potion riddle that Snape had assuredly come up with. But again, other then that use of brains, I somehow doubt all that was going to stop the most evil and powerful man in the world if it can’t stop an eleven year old. When I finally stepped through the fire (the ice running through my veins giving me the most interesting feeling) and into the room, I could feel my heart racing in excitement for there was my weak-minded professor.

I approached silently, creeping closer and listening to the argument that was taking place between Professor Quirrell and the man who won for most evil of the year.

“Master, I don’t know what to do, I can’t figure out how to get the rock… Should I break the mirror?”

“No! You break the bloody mirror and I’ll break your bloody mind. Find another way!” A voice hissed and I hid a smile, this situation seemed most unseemly for a dark lord.

“Didn’t do your homework, eh Voldie?”

Quirrell spun around at the sound of my voice, giving a most evil glare.

“You!” He snareled.

“Yes me. So what seems to be the problem?” I asked casually, walking up beside them to look in the Mirror of Erised.

“Potter, give me the stone.” Quirrell demanded grabbing hold of my arm. There was a brief flash of pain from the touch but barely noticeable compared to what I was used to. That wasn’t what bothered me, it was being touched period. With a flick of my wrist one of my hidden needles was in my fingers and transfigured into a dagger which I slammed deep into the arm holding me. Quirrell gave a most satisfying scream backing away from me, holding his arm in pain and shock.

“Don’t bloody touch me.” I growled and returned my attention to the mirror, trying to ignore the cries of pain.

“Sssilence you fool, or I’ll remove the whole arm!” A disembodied voice hissed, successfully silencing the man. “Now… let me see the boy.”

“M-master, are you sure you…” A scream ripped from Quirrells lips, as it appeared that Voldemort had his own ways of punishing Quirrell. Without further protest he removed the ridiculous turban and turned so the back of his head faced me, revealing a most serpent like image of the man I had read so much about.

The pain in my head from earlier intensified to a level that made me actually wince.

“What? Afraid of me boy?”

“No. Just painful to look at you, and not just because you’re hideous.” The red eyes narrowed at me but I ignored the look and turned my attention towards my own mind for the pain was growing into an annoyance. It didn’t take me long to find the source of pain in my mind, and came upon a shield that had been there for years to protect me from Voldemort…. Hold on, they put a protection shield on me that actually hurts me, the one it’s supposed to protect? What kind of idiots were they? Frustrated I destroyed the whole thing and opened my eyes to see Voldemort staring at me confused.

“You’re not quite what I expected boy.” The face hissed, but I remained silent, showing no signs that this entire encounter bothered me in the slightest and returned to examining the mirror. “What do you see boy?”

“The name is Harry if you must call me something, and I see you and me. You’re in your rightful body and we are sitting together in a dark room, talking with Snape, Draco and his father.” Voldemort was silent for a while, as I continued to stare into the image, a deep pang in my chest stirring as I watched.

“You do not hate me?” Voldemort asked confused. “Wish to kill me and seek revenge?”

“You had to spend the last 10 years wandering around as less than a spirit, unable to continue with your plans, I think that that is punishment enough.” I said and then turned to him. “Besides, how can I hate you when I admire you so much?” I asked simply. “Though if you would stop trying to kill me, that would be appreciated.” I added off-handedly.

Slowly a proud smirk appeared on his face. “Of course, then shall we see what we can do about this mirror?” He asked and I moved over slightly to let him peer at it beside me.

“Now the problem with the mirror of Erised (or desire backwards) is that it will only give the stone to someone who doesn’t want it for themselves.” I said, explaining what I knew of it.

“Then shouldn’t you be able to give me the stone.”

“Yes, I could convince the mirror to give it to me. But I won’t.”

“What, you brat! I thought…”

“Don’t presume things old man!” I snapped back, while taking a step away form him. “The stone is a flaw…”

“The stone is perfect, I need it to…”

“No, if you try to make yourself whole through the use of the stone it will be imperfect.”

“What do you mean?”

“First of all your body won’t be as strong as it was or could be. Worst of all is that you’ll be entirely dependent on a stone that is irreplaceable. Dumbledore would only have to steal it or destroy it and you would wither away, most likely for good this time.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Hey, you’re the master evil genius, you figure it out. Besides, Dumbledore probably wanted you to have that big of a weakness, why else would he make this thing so easy.” I commented waving vaguely back to the one door in the room.

“Yesss, it was rather ridiculous. Except this blasted mirror.” Voldemort growled as he peered into it again for a moment before his snake eyes went wide.

“Quirrell! Check your pockets!” He hissed and after a quick search Quirrell pulled out a red stone.

“Master, I don’t understand.”

“Damn Dumbledore, what’s the point of getting it now that I don’t want it!” Voldemort hissed in annoyance.

“Yes, Dumbledore is quite the bastard like that.” I agreed with a small smirk, silently laughing at his frustration.

“Well then, what are we going to do about this entire situation? Dumbledore’s going to want an explanation.”

“I’ll tell him that I got the stone and that we fought over it and somehow I forced you to leave.”

“And he’s going to believe that?”

“I’ve had practice with hiding my true thoughts from the bastard, it won’t be a problem. But Quirrell will have to be killed.”

“What?!” Quirrell exclaimed but was ignored by both his student and master.

“But I’m using his body.” Voldemort argued.

“The only thing that would have chased you away is if your host was being heavily damaged.”

“No! You can’t kill me!”

“Hmm, that is true…”

“Besides, everyone by now knows that Quirrell is being possessed by you and therefore he’s going to be useless should you want to go to a wizard inhabited area.”

“No, please! I can disguise myself!”

“Also true. Not to mention that he is one of the most annoying people to possess.”

“Please master, I beg you.”

“Yes, I see what you mean. Also he can’t shield his mind worth shit, and then my whole façade will be ruined. Quite frankly if you don’t kill him I will.”

“Hmm, alright. But I’ll take care of it, you’re supposed to be an innocent boy after all.”

I raised an eyebrow at Voldemort’s statement, giving him a sardonic look and trying not to scoff. Voldemort gave a quick chuckle to himself at the look, still ignoring Quirrell’s pleas for his life.

“Well, I’ll see you again; hopefully I’ll be in my own body at that point.” Voldemort said before the face vanished from the back of Quirrells head who spun around to look at me in horror.

“What kind of monster are you?!” He asked before he screamed out in agony clutching to his head. I just watched with a pleased smirk as he continued to writhe in pain as blood poured from his nose, mouth and ears. When he finally collapsed to the ground dead, a black smoke rose from his body, forming into a vague figure with two red eyes.

“Until later.” It hissed before vanishing from the room.

I heard shouts and hurried footsteps from the room beyond the door and quickly cast a light burning hex upon my throat and Quirrell’s hands. I figured if it had hurt when he had touched me before, I could probably get it to seem likely. With the last few seconds before they entered the room I knelt down near Quirrell, grabbing onto the stone still in his hand and then ordered my magic to slow the blood to my brain. The lack of blood caused me to get dizzy and then quickly lose consciousness, collapsing to the ground next to Quirrell.

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I wasn’t sure how long I was lost in the darkness from my forced unconsciousness, but when I awoke it was to the mutterings of a very creepy voice.

Thankfully years of Vernon coming down to my cupboard in the middle of the night caused my instincts to kick in, and I kept my breathing deep and even to not draw the Headmasters’ suspicion.

“My beautiful boy. You played perfectly. I was worried about you for a while there, thought you might not be up to what it takes to be a hero. But you weren’t supposed to win the stone. If he had taken it we would have known his form and weakness… now he has disappeared again for who knows how long.”

I felt a papery finger trace its way down my scar and struggled greatly to not move.

“But I will have more chances for you in the future, I will make you into the perfect hero, and you will love me for it, despite the things that must be done to get you there.”

With a last heavy sigh I heard the Headmaster finally drift away and relaxed into sleep once more.

****

I managed to escape from the hospital wing that night thanks to Persephone. Of course after she demanded information about Voldemort in exchange for her help. All snakes had heard of him and his ability to speak parseltongue since they were young and, though I refused to express such a useless emotion, I myself was still excited over our meeting.

The school was not informed about the resent attack by the ‘evil’ dark lord. They believed that my injuries resulted in illegal exploration of certain areas of the school, resulting in Slytherin loosing points and Gryfindor ultimately winning the House cup, how ironically plebeian.

*****

When it was time to return home I was very careful about my packing. I knew my things would be locked away, but I wanted to continue my study of some darker magics, along with beginning a study of runes. I packed my clothes and the books that I had basically memorized in my trunk, along with the other things like my telescope and potions ingredients. As for the rest (mostly more books) I put them in a bottomless box and shrunk it before sticking it in my pocket.

Over the last two days I had become silent again, trying to return my thoughts to what was acceptable at the Dursleys. I was about to enter another world soon, with very different rules to abide by, and I needed to remember my place. Draco didn’t question me, but I think that he was just too caught up in his excitement for summer vacation. ‘Vacation’… right.