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"Goodbye, Adrian Potter." Voldemort said as Quirrell turned towards the fainted boy. As Voldemort was talking, all the fear Harry felt, the mortification of his brother's impending doom that had caused him to freeze, instantly transformed to red hot anger and from that to a scorching white rage. Voldemort was a monster and Quirrell was helping him. The Dark Lord tarnished what he touched, polluted it, eradicated it. And now he went after his brother. One of his first lessons in alchemy crept into his troubled thoughts as he grasped his wand tight under the cloak.
"If all else fails, Harry, always remember; fire purges all that is impure." Nicholas's voice rang inside his head. In the years to come, Harry would look back and wonder how he had managed to do what he did; it wasn't that he had practiced a wordless spell before. All he would remember afterwards was that, as Quirrell raised his wand towards Adrian, he had pointed his against him and had pushed all his will to one single incantation, the only large scale spell he knew;
"Saevit Infernalis!" And though not a sound left his lips, a large, deep red wave of flames sprung from his wand and hit Quirrell -who was leaning over Adrian, ready to deliver the final strike- straight into his chest, throwing him to the other side of the room. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher screamed with all he had as the fire, instead of going out, grew and grew, spinning around him like an infernal tornado, engulfing him and spreading upwards, the flame tongues licking the ceiling.
Dark smoke, faintly reminiscent of a human form, flew from the raging flames to the room and out the door with a terrible scream; the Dark Lord had abandoned Quirrell and was fleeing the battle. He passed over Adrian as he flew, cursing him again for whatever magic it was that was stored in him that had almost caused his demise for a second time.
All Harry could do was look at the Dark Lord as he escaped. He wanted to run at his brother, he wanted to make sure he was safe, that he was alive but his body refused to cooperate as his brain finally caught up to what he had done; the flames still raged on, and Quirrell was inside them; there was no way he could escape them. He had killed him. He had killed. Instead of going towards his brother he took a step backwatds, his hand -still grasping his wand- falling limp on his side and under the cloak. A few seconds ticked by as the flames began to disperse. Harry barely registered footsteps echoing swiftly on the corridor behind him and only noticed Albus Dumbledore when he passed him by.
The older man took a look at the flames frozen before leaning over Adrian. Harry couldn't take this any longer. Barely controlling his own two feet, he walked like he was under the Imperius curse until he reached the exit of the chamber. When the light from the fire he had ignited stopped painting the walls orange, it was like a haze lifted from his head, and the full weight of what he'd done hit him like a tone of bricks; he broke into a mad sprint and tried to outrun his memories and guilt, heading towards the exit. He used a retraction spell to climb up the trapdoor, barely aware of his own actions. Fluffy was still asleep from whatever spell Dumbledore had casted on him but Harry didn't stop to watch. He just kept running, not even noticing the cloak sliding from his shoulders and down to the floor, a few feet from the three headed dog.
He flew down the stairs, almost tripping and falling twice, but he didn't care; he kept running. His breath was coming out in short puffs, but he didn't let that stop him; he kept running. His lungs were burning from the overexertion but he ignored them; he had to keep running. There were no torches lit at that hour in the dungeons so he kept going in the dark, not bothering to shed light on his way; he would be alright as long as he kept running.
He reached a familiar door and started banging on it with all his might, not caring about who would listen. Severus opened the door confused; he had just finished reading on something relevant to his Wolfsbane research and was about to turn in for the night. He tried to ask Harry what had happened but his pale face and tearstained cheeks silenced him; he simply opened the door wider and let him walk inside his office, locking the door behind them.
"What happened, Harry?" He asked but the boy remained silent, his eyes unfocused, as if he had fallen in some sort of trance.
"I met Voldemort." The boy stated softly after a few minutes of silence. Severus gasped as he felt the world spinning around him. What?
"Harry…"
"When I went back to the Common Room I realized Adrian, Ron and Hermione had gone after the Stone." Harry explained, his eyes still locked somewhere on the wall across the room, near the empty painting of Merlin's. "I followed them and found Quirrell threatening Adrian; somehow my brother got the Stone -there was that mirror there, the one I told you about last Christmas and the Stone was in it- and then I realized Voldemort was there too. He was possessing Quirrell or something, sharing his body. Adrian tried to escape, Quirrell knocked him out and Voldemort ordered him dead." The boy stopped, tears flowing down his face again, falling from unblinking eyes.
"Harry, is Adrian alright?" Severus said fearing for the worst. Harry shrugged.
"He was still unconscious when I left him, but Dumbledore had just arrived. I guess he'll be fine." If Adrian wasn't the issue here, what was?
"What happened, Harry?" Severus asked for the second time that day.
"Quirrell was going to kill Adrian, Dad." The green eyed boy stated, his voice thick, looking straight at the potions master's eyes for the first time since he had walked into his office.
"But he didn't." Severus stated, not liking where this was heading; had Dumbledore stopped Voldemort in time?
"No he didn't." Harry agreed, his voice breaking, his body trembling. "Because I killed him first." And the boy fell to his knees and wept.
HI GUYS IF YOU WANT READ 100 + CHAPTERS THEN VISIT
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