"Mr. Saruman..." Quirrell's voice quivered, resembling the whimper of a wounded dog. Anxiously glancing around, he pleaded with desperation, "Great wise man, honorable Mr. Saruman, this is my last dragon egg. Without it, I will die! I will truly die!"
Quirrell continued to beg, his eyes filled with despair, fear, and confusion. He couldn't comprehend why this was happening. Despite his careful secrecy, even from Lucius, Saruman awaited him as if knowing his every move.
In a state of fear, Quirrell recalled the last encounter with Saruman, where he had divulged all his secrets without a sense of urgency.
His fear of Saruman intensified, trembling as he prayed for mercy.
"Why must he rob me when he could get the dragon eggs easily by himself? Would a little humility spare me?" Quirrell wondered, his thoughts filled with desperation.
Artel, adopting the guise of a kindly old man, reassured Quirrell, reaching out to stroke his head as one would comfort a pet. "Don't be nervous, kid," he said gently. "I know what you want. A three-headed dog is blocking your way. Give me the dragon egg, and I'll tell you how to subdue it."
Quirrell, shocked by Artel's words, looked up, transforming his despair and unwillingness into unspeakable surprise. "Are you telling the truth?"
"I never deceive anyone," Artel replied calmly, producing a music box from his hand – a souvenir from a Swiss shop during his winter break.
"This will help you. The soothing music will put that three-headed dog to sleep."
Quirrell accepted the music box carefully, his eyes meeting Artel's calm gaze, choosing to believe. "Saruman didn't have to lie to me. Yes, he didn't have to lie to me!" Quirrell declared, handing the dragon egg to Saruman with newfound determination.
"Good luck, my boy," Artel wished as he received the dragon egg. However, before leaving, he paused and scrutinized Quirrell with a contemplative expression.
"Does... Mr. Saruman have any other tasks for me?" Quirrell inquired tentatively, eyeing Artel with apprehension, still nursing the wounds from their previous encounter. His body still ached, the memory of their last confrontation fresh in his mind.
"Your master, Tom Riddle... or should I say Voldemort, tell him I desire a serpent named Nagini, and I can aid him in acquiring the Philosopher's Stone," Artel declared, his tone carrying a weight of authority.
Quirrell hesitated, his gaze fixated on the misty potion bottle that had materialized in Artel's hand.
"This...?" Quirrell's eyes widened in awe as he beheld the potion, a rare treasure he had never encountered before.
An Invisibility Potion!
The concept was utterly novel to Quirrell. While wizards typically relied on invisibility cloaks or disillusionment spells for stealth, the latter was notoriously difficult to master. Perfect camouflage was elusive, and the spell's effectiveness varied depending on the environment.
"This could make life a lot easier for me..." Quirrell mused with excitement, his mind racing with possibilities.
With this potion and the method to subdue Fluffy, the three-headed dog, Quirrell could secure the Philosopher's Stone tonight!
"Agree to his terms!" Voldemort's voice echoed in Quirrell's mind, filled with intrigue at Saruman's sudden proposition.
Voldemort harbored curiosity about Saruman's motives. While he had intended to study how to contact Saruman after his resurrection, he hadn't anticipated Saruman's proactive approach.
Though Voldemort couldn't discern Saruman's intentions for Nagini, he recognized the snake's value as a Horcrux. Through Nagini, Voldemort could see and sense events, relying on her to gather intelligence.
Quirrell swiftly complied, nodding to Artel. "My master agrees."
"A wise decision," Artel remarked, tossing the potion to Quirrell, who eagerly pocketed it.
"Nagini resides in mountains of Romania," Quirrell disclosed.
"Let go get her then," Artel announced, placing a hand on Quirrell's shoulder. In an instant, they apparated, reappearing in a dense forest nestled in the Romanian mountains.
Quirrell wasted no time, shedding his robe and turban to reveal Voldemort's face protruding from the back of his head.
"Well..." Voldemort's gaze met Artel's, sensing a glimmer of pity in his eyes.
Voldemort, unaware of Saruman's true identity, regarded him with the same respect as Dumbledore. Despite feeling uneasy under Saruman's gaze, Voldemort still managed a sardonic laugh:
"Saruman... Mr... I eagerly anticipate our future collaborations..."
Voldemort's speech was disjointed, and Artel was concerned that he might not catch his breath.
After a long delay, Voldemort finally finished speaking. He turned Quirrell around, facing the jungle, and uttered a command in Parseltongue:
"ssssssssssssssssssssssss out~"
The eerie hiss echoed into the distance. After about five minutes, a rustling noise heralded the arrival of a massive viper.
It was Nagini!
Artel was excited. He had plans for Nagini, and obtaining her was a crucial part of them.
The Aria of Light had a high likelihood of curing the blood curse. Even if it didn't, Artel had the Elessa gem, capable of curing all diseases, pains, and curses.
Artel was confident he could restore Nagini to her former self, and he had other means of controlling her.
As for the benefits...
Nagini could speak Parseltongue, opening up the possibility of accessing secret chambers and gaining more plot points. Moreover, Nagini had once been Dumbledore's ally. Artel could use her to infiltrate the Order of the Phoenix.
Artel's thoughts raced as Nagini crawled obediently to Voldemort. Voldemort addressed her in Parseltongue, and soon, Nagini approached Artel, bowing her head in submission.
Artel smiled at Voldemort:
"It's been a pleasure working with you. I hope you recover soon... The world will become more interesting."
Voldemort didn't grasp Artel's meaning, but he smirked nonetheless:
"I'll be back with soon."
With that, he disappeared from the back of Quirrell's head.
Quirrell replaced his hood, glanced at Artel, and asked:
"Mr. Saruman, would you like to return with me?"
"No, I have other plans."
Artel declined Quirrell's offer, and Quirrell nodded before Apparating away.
Once Quirrell vanished, Artel's eyes gleamed with interest as he turned his attention to Nagini, a sly smirk playing on his lips. With a flick of his wrist, a glinting silver brooch materialized in his grasp, its intricate design catching the dim light of the moon. Nagini observed in silence as Artel's fingers closed around the brooch, a palpable aura of power emanating from him, enveloping the space like a shroud.
As Artel approached, a sense of anticipation hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint scent of ancient magic. With deliberate care, he pressed the cool metal against Nagini's scaly skin, his touch sending shivers down her spine. His gaze, filled with an unsettling tranquility, bore into hers, holding her captive as he uttered the words that would alter her fate forever.
"Nagini...," his voice echoed in the night, "the shackles of your curse have been shattered."
With a surge of ethereal green light, he unleashed the darkness that had plagued her existence, leaving behind a newfound sense of liberation and purpose.
.....
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