What If?

Chapter Seven

Before long, Harry and Draco were getting ready to go back to school. Holidays were over; they were in the carriage, on the way back to school. At the moment, Harry was asleep, cuddling into the window. Draco was reading one of the books Harry had given him, albeit somewhat slowly - it was difficult translating Gaelic into English without the help of his dictionary, but he was gradually getting faster.

Harry stirred.

"Are we there yet?" he mumbled into the curtains.

Draco grinned, put a bookmark in his book and went over to sit next to Harry.

"Almost," Draco said quietly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm..." Harry murmured, turning to snuggle into Draco's shoulder. "Sleep now."

Draco fought a laugh and tangled his fingers in Harry's hair, stroking the other boy's head with his thumb. He could tell by the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest that Harry had fallen back asleep.

Draco took out his wand, muttered 'Accio book!' and caught the tome that flew towards him with his free hand. He settled it on his lap and opened it again, murmuring to himself as he translated the text.

"Asarlaì...that's wizard...éireannach...that's Irishman...so Salazar Slytherinas Irish. Interesting. Explains the house colours, I suppose..."

The carriage slowed down, before coming to a complete stop. Draco frowned and closed his book again - he knew they weren't there yet. He heard the driver get out and begin to converse with someone.

"Who is in the back?" he heard a low and sinister sounding voice ask.

"No one," the driver replied confidently - Narcissa had put an Invisibility charm on the contents of the back of the carriage, apart from the obvious seats and the like.

"May we check?" asked a different voice, indicating with his voice that if he were denied, the driver wouldn't be conscious for too long.

"Of course," came the answer.

When Draco heard footfalls making their way to the entrance, just as an extra precaution, he grabbed Harry's Invisibility Cloak from it's place on the window and threw it over them both, a second before the door flew open.

A wizard muttered 'Lumos' and lit up the cabin-like area.

"Nothing," he called back to his colleagues. The door closed, and the man left.

After waiting five minutes, Draco took the Cloak off. The driver opened the door. "You two alright?" he asked in a strong Cockney accent.

"Yes, thank you, Matthew," Draco replied softly. "Who were they?"

"No idea," Matthew replied promptly. "Damn scary, though."

Draco nodded, thinking.

"Thank you," he added. The man nodded, closed the door and hopped back into the front. Draco was soon lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of the coach, his head resting on top of Harry's and his hand still entwined in Harry's hair.

~*~

A tentative knock on the entrance.

"We've reached Hogwarts," a voice called.

Draco sat up, yawning.

"Harry?" he asked.

"Mmm..." the black-haired boy mumbled incoherently.

"Harry, we're at Hogwarts. Come on, time to get up," Draco said, leaning forward.

"Don't want to," came the answered. "Sleep time."

Sighing, Draco shook the other boy gently by the shoulders.

"Sleep later, when we get into Hogwarts, on nice comfy beds," he replied, resorting to caveman-speech to rouse Harry.

"Beds," Harry agreed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

"But we need to see Dumbledore first, remember?"

Harry groaned and lay back against the seat, his lucidity have returned.

"We do too," he muttered. "Moment we're inside."

"Matthew?" Draco called.

"Yes, Master Malfoy?" the driver replied.

"Take our trunks to our room," he commanded, stepping out of the coach, followed by Harry. "We need to speak to the Headmaster immediately."

"And what about, Mr. Malfoy?" came an amicable voice from the shadows.

Draco drew him aside and told him in an undertone all they had learnt.

"So now, we think that my father was using her to get at me, and therefore, the Philosopher's Stone," he explained.

"You know about the Stone?" Dumbledore asked, looking only slightly surprised.

"Of course we do," Draco said dismissively.

"Well, I can assure you, the Stone is perfectly well protected. In fact, Professor Quirrell has just now gone to check on it for me."

Oh dear God, Harry said into his mind. Remember what Blaise said?

Draco paled immediately, though it wasn't noticeable in the dim light.

"Thank you, Professor," he said, however, in a deceptively light tone.

"Quite welcome, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore replied just as cordially.

The two boys turned and walked up the steps, into the Entrance Hall. Only when they were safe from Dumbledore's sight did they begin to sprint up to the third floor.

~*~

When Harry and Draco reached the room, they heard a chorus of sweetly angelic voices singing from behind the slightly ajar door.

'And when my life is full of strife,

And all around me sadness,

I lift my voice in melody,

And fill my heart with gladness.'

However, when they pushed the door the full way open, they couldn't see anyone.

"Enchanted," Harry murmured to the boy next to him.

"Quick," Draco muttered quietly, moving to the trapdoor. "I'll go first. When I tell you to, jump, and keep on moving. You never know what will be down there."

Draco breathed in deeply and jumped.

"It's fine, just the Devil's Snare! When you get down here, move to the door straight away, don't linger!"

Harry dropped. Once he reached the ground, he picked himself up immediately and ran to the door he could see, slamming it behind him.

"Right," he panted. "What next?"

"Nothing," Draco replied. "The next room's open."

Harry, looking up, noticed he was right. Paying no heed to the fluttering keys above him, he ran across the room to the door, quickly followed by Draco.

This room, there was an enormous chess set, set still in it's finished position.

"Glad we didn't have to contend with that," Harry said. "Too much time wasted."

Again, they sprinted across the board to the next door, where they found a humungous mountain troll.

Stepping gingerly around it, when they stepped through the next entrance, purple flames shot up behind them, and black flames in front. Hurrying to the table, Draco noticed a scroll lying next to the bottles.

"Professor Snape's," Harry said.

"Simple, too. Logic," Draco explained. "Listen to this:

'Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,

Two of us will help you, whichever you would find.

One among us seven will let you move ahead,

Another will transport the drinker back instead,

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,

Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,

To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:

First, however slyly poison tries to hide

You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;

Second, different are those who stand at either end,

But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;

Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;

Fourth, the second left and second on the right

Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

"Oh dear God," Harry groaned.

"Easy," Draco pronounced, smiling.

"Are you insane?" Harry asked.

"Be quiet," Draco hushed. He read and reread the parchment over and over. Then, paper still in hand, he stood in front of the line and mumbled to himself, frequently referring to the paper.

"Done and done," he grinned. "Drink the little one to go forward, the big round one at the end to go back."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"Positive," Draco assured.

"Okay. I'll go first this time."

Harry picked up the smallest bottle and took a tiny sip from it.

"Go, before it wears off," Draco cautioned, taking it from him. Harry nodded and walked through the flames, closely tailed by Draco. What they saw was certainly not what they expected.

"Professor Quirrell?" Draco gaped. Even though the evidence all pointed to him, it was still a shock to see him, of all people, down here.

"Good observation," he replied sarcastically.

"But...that means..." Harry said.

Quirrell unwrapped his turban slowly and turned around, his back to the boys.

"Of course," he answered, his voice slightly quieter now it wasn't directed towards them.

Harry took a deep breath as he faced the man who had murdered his parents.

"You," he hissed viciously, his eyes flashing with fury.

"So it is you," Voldemort replied in a seemingly amused tone. "The famous Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world, placed in Slytherin, in the House that supposedly portrays all that is evil. Who would ever have predicted that?

"And Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius. My, my, boy, how you've betrayed us. However, a fickle thing such as that will pay bearing tonight. I have found the prophecy; I have heard it."

This time, Harry sucked in air involuntarily.

"You...you haven't. You can't have it. It was destroyed," he replied.

"Did you ever wonder who made the prophecy, boy?" Voldemort asked, a look of gleeful malice on his repellent features.

"Sybill Trelawney," Harry answered.

"And did you ever wonder at her convenient...disappearance, shall we say, for reputation's sake...right after the record of the prophecy was destroyed?"

"Oh my God," Harry breathed.

"Exactly," replied Voldemort triumphantly. "Fascinating, don't you think? The one person - apart from Dumbledore, of course, but I can't really capture him - who could tell me the contents of the prophecy.

"And tell me she did, with the proper...encouragement, obviously.

'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches,

Born to those who have thrice defied him,

Born as the seventh month dies,

And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,

But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.

And either must die at the hand of the other,

For neither can live while the other survives,

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...'

"So there you have it," Voldemort said smugly. "Either you kill me, or I kill you. I know which option I prefer - don't you?"

"You bastard," Harry spat out.

"Well spotted, Potter," sneered Voldemort. "Somebody give the boy a cookie."

"You're not going to kill me," Harry said confidently, standing and gripping the sword he concealed behind his back.

Voldemort rolled his eyes.

"Why not? Because the almighty martyred Harry Potter, with his dead parents - you know, James was a right prat. That was why I killed him, and his wife, for good measure. He really annoyed me, with his self-righteous arrogance. Also, he was incredibly cruel to Severus when they went to school together."

"You can hardly talk about cruel," a chilly voice spoke up beside Harry.

Of course. He had forgotten Draco.

Quickly, Harry, came the voice in his mind. I'll distract him - use the sword.

"Don't even bother," Voldemort said lazily.

Suddenly, Harry leapt forward, wielding the sword skilfully due to Draco's fencing lessons.

"Quirrell!" screeched Voldemort. "What are you doing, you idiot?! Kill him!"

Professor Quirrell drew out his wand and calmly, emotionlessly, said, "Avada Kedavra". There was a searing green light, and Harry Potter, no longer the Boy Who Lived, fell in a crumpled heap to the floor.

"NO!" screamed Draco. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU!"

"And the traitor," Voldemort added. Shortly, Draco joined Harry on the cold stone floor of the dungeons.

"Get the Stone," he ordered. Quirrell obliged.

"Squeeze it, tightly. The liquid that will come out - swallow it."

Again, Professor Quirrell obeyed. He screamed and also fell to the ground, writhing. Within moments, he also lay dead. A smoky figure rose from his body and slowly materialised into a body.

"At last," Voldemort said quietly to himself. "Hogwarts will fall."

With that, he strode out of the dungeons, without a look behind.

~críoche~