David navigated through a room containing the lifeless corpse of a giant troll. As he ascended the steps leading to the next door, his eyes were drawn to a wooden table, upon which rested seven bottles. Two of the bottles had been moved, and one—the smallest—was already empty.
"This must be the black flame that Professor Dumbledore mentioned," David muttered, his eyes lingering on the ominous flames that guarded the door frames ahead and behind him. Without hesitation, he retrieved the potion given to him and drank it. A biting chill surged through his body, as though he had swallowed a block of ice.
"Effective... and freezing," he noted, his breath visible in the cold air. David remembered the other part of Dumbledore's warning and cast an invisibility spell over himself before stepping into the flames. Despite their fierce appearance, the fire did not burn him.
Crossing through to the next chamber, David instantly recognized the room. It was the same place where Dumbledore had shown him the Mirror of Erised. In front of the enchanted mirror, Harry was sprawled on the floor, staring forward with wide, fearful eyes.
Standing before Harry was Professor Quirrell, his back turned, the turban he always wore now discarded. Where the back of his head should have been, another face leered—a pale, noseless visage with narrow, crimson eyes. Voldemort.
Frozen in shock, David remained unseen, his figure concealed by the enchantment. As he observed from behind a stone pillar, the scene unfolded.
"Harry Potter," Voldemort's voice echoed, cold and inhuman. "Give me the Philosopher's Stone."
"I... I don't know what you're talking about!" Harry's voice wavered, fear tightening his throat.
"Lies," Voldemort hissed, his anger palpable. "You're just like your parents. Weak... pleading for mercy before they died. Shouldn't you be grateful for the life I spared?"
"Liar!" Harry shouted, anger mingling with fear. He suddenly scrambled to his feet, attempting to flee toward the black flames guarding the exit.
"Trying to escape?" Voldemort mocked, his eyes flashing dangerously. Quirrell raised an arm, and his discarded turban uncoiled like a serpent, snaking through the air before wrapping around Harry's neck.
Harry's eyes bulged as the cloth constricted, lifting him off the ground. He clawed desperately at the fabric, his face contorting in pain.
David watched, his heart racing. If I don't do something, Harry's done for...
Where's Dumbledore in all of this? And how did Harry survive this encounter in the original timeline? A flurry of questions flooded his mind, but there was no time to dwell on them. He had to act.
David pointed his wand at the scarf strangling Harry and commanded, "Finite Incantatem."
The scarf instantly lost its enchantment, going limp and dropping Harry to the floor.
"Cough... cough..." Harry gasped for air, clutching his throat as he struggled to breathe.
"Who's there?!" Voldemort's voice echoed through the chamber, enraged.
Quirrell's head twitched in fear. "M-Master... Who is it? Where are they?"
David smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Guess."
Voldemort's eyes widened as the floor beneath him cracked and buckled, collapsing inward. He leaped aside just in time, narrowly avoiding falling into the pit that David's spell had created.
"It's you again!" Voldemort growled, his rage evident. "This is the fourth time!"
David rolled his eyes, his voice taunting. "I have a feeling this is going to happen a lot more in the future."
Voldemort's fury flared. "Do you think you can keep running from me?" He aimed his wand at David and fired a curse.
David ducked behind a stone pillar, whispering to Harry as he passed by, "Where's your wand?"
Harry, still clutching his neck, pointed shakily toward the Mirror of Erised. "It's... over there... David? Is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me." David flicked his wand, sending a jet of flame at Voldemort. The dark wizard deflected the attack, his eyes narrowing.
"Accio wand!" David commanded. Harry's wand shot off the ground and into his hand.
"Remember what Professor Flitwick taught you about dueling!" David ordered before darting to another pillar. He knew staying close together would be disastrous if Voldemort used an area attack.
"Running won't save you!" Voldemort sneered, launching a torrent of curses. Green light flew dangerously close to David, forcing him to dive to the floor.
Avada Kedavra... he's not playing around.
David's eyes narrowed. "You're as predictable as ever, Voldemort. What's wrong? Out of tricks already?"
Voldemort's eyes blazed with anger. "Arrogant child! You think you're safe just because of an Invisibility Charm?"
"Pretty much. It's more than you can handle, clearly," David retorted, goading him further. He could see Voldemort's rage boiling over, his attacks becoming erratic.
David smirked. "You're really quite stupid."
Voldemort roared, "You dare mock me?!" He launched another Killing Curse. David dodged, his body moving with practiced precision.
At that moment, a white blur shot out from behind a stone pillar, colliding with Quirrell's body. The impact sent Quirrell and Voldemort crashing to the floor, their screams of agony echoing off the chamber walls.
David watched as the white figure stood over Quirrell, radiating a brilliant light. The unicorn...
From the beginning, David had summoned the unicorn with his magic, concealing it in the shadows. He'd planned the entire fight to push Voldemort toward its hiding place.
The unicorn's mere presence caused Quirrell's skin to blister and burn wherever it touched. Voldemort's wails grew louder, his twisted face contorting in agony.
David stood over them, his voice cold. "You defiled the innocent. You took the lives of creatures far purer than yourself. Now, you pay the price."