Hi folks! Final chapter, I'm working on part 2 of 7, Lost Families. Since this is Harry's POV will be mostly copied from the books, but I couldn't leave it out. Still hope you'll enjoy reading this!

REWRITTEN

Ch. 15 the Man with the Two Faces

POV HARRY POTTER:

It was as though ice was flooding my body. I put the bottle down and walked forward. For a moment I could see nothing but dark fire. Then I was on the other side, in the last chamber. There was already someone there. But it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort. It was Quirrell.

"You!" I gasped. Quirrell smiled.

His face wasn't twitching at all. "Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."

"But I thought- Snape-"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

I couldn't take it in. This couldn't be true, it couldn't. "But Snape tried to kill me!"

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friends Miss Granger and Miss Gibbs accidently knocked me over as she rushed to set fire on Snape at that Quidditch match. They broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a counter curse, trying to save you."

"Snape was trying to save me?"

"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really… he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular… and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped around me. "You're too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in?"

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls- you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off- and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly. Now, wait quietly Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

It was only then that I realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised. "This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come with something like this… but he's in London… I'll be far away by the time he gets back…"

All I could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror. "I saw you and Snape in the forest," I blurted out.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me- as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side…"

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily at it. "I see the Stone… I'm presenting it to my master… but where is it?"

I struggled against the ropes binding me, but they didn't give. I had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror. "But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"He does," said Quirrell casually. "heavens, yes. He went to school with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing. I thought Snape was threatening you…"

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face. "Sometimes," he said. "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions. He is a great wizard and I am weak."

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" I gasped.

"He's with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I don't understand… is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"

My mind was racing. What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So, if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it. Which means I'll see where it's hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realizing what I'm up to?

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, master!"

And to my horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. "Use the boy… use the boy…"

Quirrell rounded on me. "Yes- Potter- come here."

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding me fell off. I got slowly to my feet. "Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

I walked toward him. I must lie, I thought desperately. I must look and lie about what I see, that's all. Quirrell moved close behind me. I breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. I closed my eyes, stepped in front of the door, and opened them again.

I saw my reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, my reflection smiled at me. It put its hand into its pockets and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the stone back in its pocket, and as it did so, I felt something heavy drop into my real pocket.

Somehow, incredibly, I'd gotten the Stone.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

I screwed up my courage. "I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," I invented. "I- I've won the House Cup for Gryffindor."

Quirrell cursed again. "Get out of the way," he said.

As I moved aside, I felt the Sorcerer's Stone against my leg. Dare I make a break for it? But I hadn't walked five paces before a high voice spoke, thought Quirrell wasn't moving his lips. "He lies… he lies…"

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you see?"

The high voice spoke again. "Let me speak to him… face-to-face…"

He started unwrapping his turban; Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. I would have screamed, but I couldn't make a sound. Where should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face I had even seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"Harry Potter…" it whispered. "See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor… 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… and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own… Now, why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

So, he knew. The feeling suddenly came back in my legs. I stumbled backward. "Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me… or you'll meet the same end as your parents.. They died begging me for mercy…"

"LIAR!" I shouted suddenly.

"How touching…" it hissed. "I always value bravery… Yes boy, your parents were brave… I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight… but your mother needn't have died. She was trying to protect you. Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"NEVER!"

I sprang toward the flame door, but Voldemort screamed "SEIZE HIM!" and I felt Quirrell's hand close on my throat. A needle-sharp pain seared across my scar; my head felt as though it was about to split in two. To my surprise, Quirrell let go. I saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers. They were blistering before his eyes.

"Master, I cannot hold him! My hands, my hands!"

"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort.

Quirrell reached for his wand to perform a deadly curse. But I, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face. "AARGH!"

His face was now blistering, too. I jumped to my feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse. I felt Quirrell's arm wrench from my grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness….

Down…

The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam above me. "Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"Sir! The Stone! Quirrell's got it-"

"Quirrell does not have the Stone, Harry."

I looked around. I must be in the hospital wing. Next to me was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop. "Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore. "What happened down the dungeons between you and Quirrell and a complete secret, so naturally, the whole school knows. I believe misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for sending you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you." "How long have I been here?"

"Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Misses Granger, McLaggen, Diggory, Gibbs and Jones were extremely worried about you."

"But sir, 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 you were doing very well on your own, I must say. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell of 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."

"Not the Stone, boy. You. The effort involved nearly killed you. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" I said blankly. "But your friend, Nicolas Flamel-"

"You did do the thing properly," said Dumbledore. "You even know about Nicholas. We had a little chat, yes. We agreed it's all for the best."

"But they will-"

"They will die, yes," he said.

He smiled at the look of amazement on my face. "After all, to the well-organized mind, death is nothing but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. So much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all. Trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

"Sir? What about Vol… You-Know-Who…"

"Call him Voldemort, Harry. always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."

"Yes, sir. Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Sir… there's just one more thing. How did I get that Stone out of the mirror?"

"It was one of my brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone, find it, not keep it, would be able to get it."

"Now, enough questions," said Madame Pomfrey. "He needs to rest."

When I was out of the hospital wing, I saw my friends standing on the grounds. Ron, Hermione, Bella, Claire, Janice and even Lexie. It was a novel but happy feeling to see the number of people I considered friends had more than doubled.

"Harry!"

Janice threw her arms around me in a very tight hug.

"Janice, he's choking!" Bella laughed.

"Sorry," she muttered when she let me go. "We thought you were… Dumbledore was so worried."

"The whole school's talking about it," said Ron. "What really happened?"

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumors.

"What happened to you?" I asked. "Did you get out okay?"

"Lexie and I took Bella and Ron back up," Janice said, "and we ran into Dumbledore. He just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and he took off."

"D'you think he meant to do it?" said Claire thoughtfully. "Sending you the cloak and everything?"

"Well," Hermione exploded. "if he did, I mean to say, that's terrible! You could have been killed!"

"No, it's not like that," I said. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he wanted to give me a chance."

"Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," said Ron. "Listen Harry, you should get down to the feast. Slytherin's won and everything, Ravenclaw steamrolled us in the last match without you, but at least the food'll be good."

I nodded silently. Bella, Ron, Hermione, Claire and Janice went inside, but Lexie didn't move.

"Good to see you're back, Potter," she said after a while. "Alive and well."

"Look, we went through all this. I think we can go on first name basis," I said.

She smiled.

"Turns out the only thing we needed to get along was nearly dying," she said, "who would've thought?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Just know we're getting you back for the House Cup next year."

Her eyes glittered, and she said, "May the best House win, Harry."

Together we walked into the Great Hall. It was decorated in silver and green.

"Another year gone!" said Dumbledore cheerfully. "Hopefully your heads were a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer to make them nice and empty again… Now, the House Cup needs rewarding. In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six points and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

Slytherin table burst into a loud applause.

"Yes, yes, well done Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account. I have a few last-minute points to dash out. First, to Miss Claire Gibbs, for an astonishing show of knowledge and teamwork, Ravenclaw earns 50 points.
Second, to Miss Janice Diggory, for showing the uttermost loyalty when others would have already absconded, also 50 points.

To Miss Lexie Jones, for showing a true Slytherin never abandons their own, I award Slytherin House 50 points.
And to Miss Bella McLaggen, for having the courage to make a difficult sacrifice, 50 points.

To Mr. Ronald Weasley for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in years, 50 points.
To Miss Hermione Granger… for use of cool logic in the face of fire I award Gryffindor House 50 points.
And finally, to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House sixty points."

I didn't know how many points Gryffindor had, but who cares, we had overtaken Slytherin! We'd won! It was the best evening of my life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls…

I would never, ever forget tonight.