Harry Potter and the Pretty Sorcerer's Balls

Chapter 17 - The Man with Two Faces

The pain in Harry's scar doubled as he burst into the final chamber.

Quirrell whipped his now clumsily covered head around in a flash.

"I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter," he said calmly.

"Does Snape know you're here," Harry asked, climbing astride his broom, "- or are you and your extra head going to run off without him?"

"Severus?" Quirrell barked out an incredulous laugh but the usual quiver was gone, replaced with a cold sharp sound. "Yes, Severus does seem the type doesn't he? Swooping around like an overgrown bat. I had hoped his antics would draw suspicion from p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell."

"A little obvious if you ask me." Harry kept glancing at the turban tied head, wondering if he would see what Hermione and Draco had spied beneath. "You and Snape are both working alone then? Won't he be surprised to see you've beaten him."

"Working alone?" Quirrell laughed again, "You stupid boy, Snape isn't after the Stone, he's been trying to keep me from it."

"What about the Quidditch match? I know you tried to kill me then - but Snape was cursing me as well."

"Ha!" Quirrell spat, "That fool was muttering a counter-curse, I would have had you off that broom if it wasn't for him. Your friend Miss Granger knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape. She broke my eye contact. I must admit, it was almost worth the failed attempt to see him on fire." He clucked his tongue and narrowed his eyes at Harry. "You're too nosy to live, Potter." Quirrell growled, "Skipping around the school, keeping your eye on me in class -"

"Of course I was keeping an eye on you!" Harry squealed, "You tried to kill me! You attacked me that day at Gringott's - oh you horrible, horrible man! Grabbing at my bits and pieces without so much as an how do!"

Quirrell shook his head slightly and the cruel smile vanished from his lips. He snapped his fingers and ropes sprang out of thin air, wrapping themselves tightly around Harry.

"Eeek!" Harry squealed and tried to shift the broom from its squashed position between his legs.

"Now wait quietly Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

Harry could see The Mirror of Erised standing tall behind Quirrell and knew that this was the last defence, Dumbledore's own, protecting the Stone. All he could do was

keep Quirrell distracted until Hermione arrived with help.

"I don't know why Snape didn't turn you in when he had the chance," Harry ventured coyly. "He's a much more powerful wizard than you, he could have found a way to make you confess."

Quirrell's eyes narrowed angrily but he soon smirked. "He did try to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side ..."

"So you are trying to bring old Yoo Hoo back," Harry forced himself to giggle, "He sure doesn't keep high standards, does he? Imagine laying all your hopes on a man with a face on the back of his head."

Quirrell stormed out from behind the mirror where he had been examining the structure.

"You will not speak against my master." The tremble had returned to Quirrell's voice, though now from rage rather than feigned cowardice.

"Your master?" Harry squeaked. "You mean - that's really Voldemort - on your head?"

"Lord Voldemort," Quirrell growled again.

"Lord," Harry twittered nervously, "I find it very hard to believe that the Queen herself agreed to knight that thing on your head - so he's not a real Lord, is he?"

"Shut up, boy," Quirrell turned back to the mirror, "I have work to do." He stared hungrily into the mirror and muttered to himself. "I see the Stone ... I'm presenting it to my master Lord Voldemort ... but where is it?"

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. He had to get Quirrell's attention again - before he figured out how to find the Stone!

"Can I meet him?" He blurted out.

Quirrell rounded on him, "How dare you."

"Well why not?" Harry pouted. "I want to know the face of the man who killed my parents!"

A high voice came from Quirrell's head - the face!

"Yes ... Let me speak to him ... face to face ... quickly now, we have little time."

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough ... for this ..."

Quirrell turned his back to Harry and quickly pulled off the sloppily wrapped turban. A chalk-white face stared menacingly at Harry with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"Harry Potter ..." it whispered, "See what I have become?" the face said. "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 when I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own - "

"Yes, well, hopefully this Elixir of Life improves your face a bit." Harry burst out, "Goodness, were you this ugly before I ruined you?"

The red eyes narrowed, and the high voice hissed, "Brave, but as foolish as your parents. I killed your father first you know, he put up a courageous fight ... but your mother needn't have died ... the foolish girl was trying to protect you -"

"Bet you wish she had done a better job of it, huh?"

Voldemort peered intently into Harry's eyes before the flat lips curved into a sinister grin. "Use the boy," he hissed to Quirrell.

"The boy, master?" Quirrell questioned.

"He knows how to use the mirror."

Quirrell turned back to face Harry and nodded obediently, he clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off.

The broom eased down from its strangle hold and in a flash Harry was in the air leaning flat against the broom-handle pushing it to its highest speed.

Quirrell had time only to widen his eyes before Harry's speeding broom knocked him to the ground where he was assaulted in a flurry of slaps, squeals, and fists.

"My face!" Quirrell screamed.

Harry was startled just enough to pause, he saw Quirrell's face blistering where he had made contact. He gasped at the smell of burning flesh and squealed in horror.

Quirrell took his chance to wrestle Harry off of him and climbed to his feet. Yelling curses and still doubled over from the broomstick charge, he pinned Harry's arms behind his back and awkwardly marched him in front of the mirror.

"Well," Quirrell gasped. "What do you see?"

Harry whimpered and peered into the mirror.

"First of all," Harry screwed up his courage and tossed his head, "I must say I'm having the best hair day ever."

Quirrell snarled behind him and squeezed Harry's arms tighter.

"Eeek!" Harry squealed, "okay okay! And now I see - Yea! - I see Professor Snape and Hagrid bursting in to save me!"

Quirrell whipped around to face the chamber entrance, a green light already flashing from the wand now in his hand. Harry stuck his tongue out at Voldemort and swept his knee up with all his might. Quirrell doubled over once again with a horrible groan. Harry jumped up onto Quirrell's back and used both hands to grab at his and Voldemort's faces. The smell of burning flesh was horrible, made worse by the muffled screams of those burning and the now searing pain in Harry's scar. Harry was dizzy with the pain and slowly began to lose his grip on Quirrell's head. He held on for as long as he could but the pain in his scar was terrible and the world soon began to blur at the edges.

Harry was only vaguely aware of the dark, blurred form prying him from the silently screaming, writhing body of Quirrell. His vision began to clear an instant later when the pain in his scar suddenly ceased. He gasped and found that he was slung over somebody's shoulders, someone who certainly wasn't Hagrid, he tried to free himself but didn't have the energy to do more than struggle weakly.

"Keep still, Potter," a familiar voice intoned.

"Professor Snape?" Harry mumbled, "You saved me ... you saved me again ..." He found the energy to raise his head and saw that Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were also in the room. Quirrell lay still, Voldemort side down on the floor, his face a series of blisters and charred flesh.

"Professor Snape?" Harry whimpered, "I think I'm going to be sick." Snape set him down on the ground in a flash and Professor McGonagall quickly transfigured a bucket for him to barf into. She rubbed Harry's back and held him to her chest once he was done, and Flitwick cast a mint-tooth charm for him.

"Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall began, "- "

"My scar doesn't hurt anymore." Harry interrupted turning to Snape, "Does that mean he's dead?"

"No," came a slightly shaky version of Snape's usual snarl. "He has simply left Quirrell's body. Quirrell, however ..."

"You mean - Quirrell's - I -" Harry was becoming hysterical.

"You didn't kill him, Potter," Snape said impatiently, "Voldemort's departure from his mind was likely just too much for his body."

"Is Ron okay? And Draco?"

"Professor Sprout is taking Mister Weasley to the hospital wing as we speak,"

Professor McGonagall took over again, "He will be fine. And Mister Malfoy ..."

"Mister Malfoy," Professor Flitwick giggled, "is dancing a jig in the other chamber. He too will be taken to the hospital wing, where he will be given a sober-up potion and a hangover remedy."

Harry woke early the next morning nestled in crisp white linen, two beds down from

Neville, and between Ron and Draco in the hospital wing.

"Are you awake?" Draco whispered from his left.

"Yeah," Harry yawned, "What's happened to Neville?"

"Oh," Draco smirked, "He played the flute till he passed out so he spent the night in here."

Harry nodded and soon began to blush. "Draco?" he giggled nervously, "About yesterday ... I'm - um - sorry about ... well, you know."

"Uh -" Draco stammered with a blush.

"It's just - I kind of thought I was going to die or something - and I couldn't very well die without having ever kissed a boy before, right?"

"Uh -"

"And you were right there - I would have kissed whoever was there - well I wouldn't have kissed Vincent or Gregory. Probably not Neville either even though he is a dear. I might have kissed Ron - ooh - I definitely would have kissed either Fred or George - actually I would have kissed both of them. And Oliver - if Oliver was there I would have kissed him. Heck I may even have kissed Hermione!"

"Harry," Draco stopped Harry's ramblings, "don't worry about it."

"Really?" Harry squealed quietly.

"Yeah. It's okay," Draco paused. "But ... if you thought you were going to die - then why did you go in there?"

"Because we had to stop him," Harry explained. "If Voldemort was brought back to life - the whole world would be in danger. We couldn't let that happen, you know that."

"I ... I don't think I would have gone through the flames," Draco blushed.

"I don't know about that, Draco," Harry grinned, "I mean, you weren't likely to be number one on Bonnet Head's hit list were you? But you still made it all the way to the sixth chamber - and you nearly died in there you know, you're lucky you drank the wine instead of the poison."

Draco blushed again, "It's your fault for kissing me like that - you ruined my concentration." The boys giggled before a confused look came over Draco's face,

"Bonnet head?"

"Oh honey, you saw him - don't you think it was just like Quirrell was wearing -"

"A lady's bonnet!" Draco grinned then gritted he's teeth, "My father would kill me if he heard me say that!"

The two giggled again but Harry soon reddened a second time.

"I really am sorry about the kiss Draco - I know I probably shouldn't have done that."

"I said it was okay."

"Still ... I promise it won't happen again."

"Uh - oh ... Okay."

"I think I'm going to sneak out before Madam Pomfrey comes in to check on us."

Harry climbed out of bed and padded across the room to give Ron and Neville hugs while they slept.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Uh-huh." Harry nodded and tiptoed to the door. "I'll see you after the game - don't forget to take your hangover remedy!" he giggled and tiptoed out the door.

"He kissed me! He kissed me!" Harry jumped up and down after he emerged from the changing rooms. There were still students standing out on the Quidditch pitch discussing the game. He found Hermione and the two made their way to Hagrid's to meet their friends for a post game tea before joining the Gryffindors for the celebration.

"He kissed your forehead, Harry," Hermione smirked in a very Draco like fashion,

"That doesn't count."

Harry gasped, "I bet Oliver has never kissed anything other than a Quidditch ball and a broomstick - so it does so count!"

"Vincent and Gregory are going to be inside - so I wouldn't mention it there if I were you."

Harry nodded and knocked on the door. In one fell swoop Hagrid opened the door, scooped Harry up and just managed to avoid crushing the small boy to death. He finally set Harry down at the table where the full group of Gryffindors and Slytherins sat waiting.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed jumping up to hug his friend.

"Pomfrey kept me in the hospital wing until after the game," Ron moaned, "she thought it would be too much excitement for me."

"Oh who gives a poop about the game!" Harry squealed, "I'm just glad you're alright." He presented Ron with the game winning, Quidditch cup-sealing Snitch and settled back into his seat. For once, no one wanted to talk about Quidditch and all words turned to the events of the day before. The story began at the beginning since Neville only knew a bit of the tale and Crabbe and Goyle didn't know anything.

"I ran to Hagrid's and told him that you all had gone after the Stone," Hermione continued the tale breathlessly, "He found Professor Snape and ordered him to gather the other Professors who were protecting the Stone. I swear, Professor Snape was more scared of Hagrid then of the idea of You Know Who coming back!"

"We found Neville outside the corridor," Hagrid ruffled Neville's hair, "If he hadn't kept playin,' poor Fluffy would 'ave died in there. The other Professors went through the trapdoor - I couldn't fit, so I took care of Neville an' Fluffy instead. The Professors cancelled their protections ter get ter yeh, Little Dainty, an' reached yeh jus' in time." Hagrid turned to Ron. "Professor Sprout took yeh up ter the hospital wing when they found yeh, gave them the scare o' their lives, yeh did."

The bits and pieces of their story that found their way into the castle were met with disbelief, though once the drastic changes to the house point count were made, no one could dispute that something enormous had occurred and the odd pairing of Gryffindor and Slytherin first years were at the heart of it.

"Dumbledore gave me points 'For the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years.'" Ron grinned.

"'For rescuing a dying animal even at the risk of my own peril.'" Neville grinned and blushed.

"'For pure nerve and outstanding courage.'" Harry added.

"Mine were 'For standing alongside my friends and putting others before myself,' Draco blushed as well. "Dumbledore said he was really proud of the decisions I've made this year." The others shared a grin, as Draco's blush deepened.

"You should have got points too, Hermione," Ron complained.

"Nah," Hermione shook her head, "I'm lucky I didn't lose points for levitating Professor Quirrell's turban - he was a Professor at the time you know ... I can't believe he's really dead."

The others nodded, subdued.

"I still don't know what to tell my Father," Draco said quietly. "He's definitely going to hear about this."

"Crabbe and Goyle know not to mention You Know Who to their parents," Ron said,

"As long as you don't either, he'll never hear about that part."

"I meant - "

"He meant me, Ron," Hermione explained, "But I think it's pretty obvious, Draco."

All eyes turned to Hermione.

"Tell him what Professor Dumbledore said -"

"My father can't stand Dumbledore -"

"Sure but he'll love the idea that you're in good with him, that Dumbledore trusts you."

Draco sat silently for a moment before breaking into a trademark smirk, "That could work."

The year-end feast was a night to remember for all. Since Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had endured the odd looks from the Gryffindors while attending their Quidditch cup celebration, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville had agreed to shock the school by sitting at the Slytherin table during the feast. The Slytherins were surprisingly hospitable, likely as they had just edged Gryffindor out of the house cup.

Their exam results arrived and to everyone's surprise, they all came through with good marks. Even Crabbe and Goyle passed every class with just shy of decent grades - both of whom thanked Hermione awkwardly and profusely for her study help. Hermione however received the shock of her life.

"You beat me," she said, astonished, as she glanced over Harry's results. "You beat me in potions."

"Don't worry, Hermione," Harry consoled, "You still came in top of our year." Harry too found himself near the top of the list as well.

And just like that, the year was done. Harry spent the last moments before the summer began, in Hagrid's hut chatting with Hagrid and playing with Fang.

"Yeh'll be alrigh' with them muggles, Little Dainty?" Hagrid asked again.

"I'll be fine, Hagrid."

"Well ..." Hagrid grinned, "I've got yeh a present." He presented Harry with a handsome leather-covered book. Harry opened it and saw that it was full of wizard photographs. "Those're yer parents, Harry - with their ol' school friends an' such."

Harry teared up and looked at the couple featured in each picture closely.

"I really do have her eyes!" he exclaimed.

"And yer Da's vision." Hagrid chuckled tearfully as well and the two made their way out of the hut so Hagrid could lead the students down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake.

Once aboard the Hogwarts Express the group of Gryffindors and Slytherins sat snacking and laughing, watching the scenery go by and reviewing the do's and don'ts regarding what the Slytherins would tell their parents about the events of the year.

"And you guys have to remember not to write about anything important if you owl

us." Draco repeated.

"You don't really think your father would read your post, do you?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so but it's better not to take the chance."

It took quite some time for them all to get off the platform and into King's Cross station, Ron and Harry made sure that they were the last of their group to cross through.

"Take good care of Twinkle," Harry poked his finger through Twinkle's cage to pet her goodbye. "Make sure Fred and George don't turn her polka dotted or anything, it's so last season."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Ron asked again. "Just spend the summer with me - we'll figure out a way to explain it to my parents."

"Stop worrying, Ron," Harry grinned. "I will come to your house on the first of August, you know I can't spend longer than that with you without raising suspicion. I'll be fine in the meantime, I promise."

"But you can't go back to your Uncle's house - what are you going to do? Where are you going to go?"

Harry grinned, "Harry Potter is going to camp!"

The end