ambitious, cunning, adaptable | hp x dm

chapter fifteen: the philosopher's stone

Go back, Potter. The next two obstacles are extremely difficult, I will be back shortly to assure you that the Stone is fine." Snape ordered.

Draco shook his head and crossed his arms. "No way. We've come this far, haven't we? We can help you. We're coming."

"You idiot," Snape replied, his voice low and dangerous. "This isn't a game. If the Stone is in trouble then there is a very real danger to us all. You three can't even cast the spells you would need to save your life. I'm going alone."

"Professor!" Harry called as Snape started towards the door. "Why don't we help you as much as we can and then we'll go back and fetch help if you need it?"

Snape frowned deeply before giving a sharp nod. "Very well, but you are to do as I say, no questions asked. If I tell you to run, you run, even if it means leaving me alone in sure danger. Am I understood?"

The three First Years nodded their head and Snape threw the door leading to the next room open. The younger students followed him inside and Harry gagged at a loud stench. His hands moved up to cup his nose and mouth and his eyes watered. "What is that?"

"Mountain troll."

Harry looked over at Snape, whose voice was shocked and traced his teacher's eyes to the unconscious troll lying on the floor. That definitely didn't look good. The troll let out a grunt in its unconscious state and Snape skirted past it, making his way towards the door. Harry followed behind quickly with Draco and Pansy on his heels.

The door behind them swung shut and purple flame blocked it, while the door in front was blocked by black flame. Seven bottles were lined on a shelf next to a roll of parchment. Snape eyed the bottles, before plucking one up, the third from the left and peered into it. He shook it and frowned.

"The potion to move forward is still intact. That means whoever passed through this room is one of the seven professors who had the extra potions I brewed." Snape's expression was thoughtful and he spun in place, he dug a hand into his robes and pulled out two vials. "I made extra to go backward. Take the vial on the farthest right?" Pansy closed her hand around the vial and Snape nodded his head. "Drink it, along with these." He handed a vial to both Draco and Harry. "Get help. I'll hold off the thief as long as I can." With that, Snape pulled another vial from his robes drank from it and passed through the black flame.

Harry eyed the potion Snape had picked up and put down and picked it up. He shoved his vial into Draco's hands. "Get help. I'm not letting him fight someone alone. Find McGonagall, tell her what happened. Go!" He pulled the stopper from the bottle and downed the potion in one go before he flung himself through the flames.

"Harry!" Pansy shrieked, she charged forward but the black flames billowed out with force and she stumbled back. She gaped at the wall of fire before she drank the potion Snape had instructed her too, waited for Draco to do the same, and the pair of them dashed through the purple flames for help.

The flames passed around his body harmlessly. Surrounding him in darkness before he burst through the other side unscathed.

"Fool of a boy!"

Harry ducked his head at Snape's reprimand and rubbed at the back of his neck. He couldn't let the other man die alone. If Snape was in danger, which, judging by the looks of the other rooms he was, he would need help. Harry would do whatever he could. They advanced into the room from the small antechamber, Snape slightly ahead of Harry, both of their wands were drawn and Harry felt a pricking on the back of his neck.

"You!" Harry cried out, astonished when they entered the room, his eyes were wide and his heart was pounding.

Quirrell turned from his place in front of the mirror to look at Harry, looking right past Snape. He smiled, it was thin and disgusting and drew closer to them slowly. "Who else were you expecting, Mr. Potter? Him?" Quirrell's eyes flicked to Snape. "The oaf Hagrid?" He laughed, it was throaty and he shook his head. "No, Mr. Potter, it is I. No one would expect p-p-p-poor, Professor Q-Q-Quirrell, eh?"