18 Holes

Harry finally reached the last chamber, he had passed the devils snare, caught the key, won a chess match, and solved the riddle. He had abandoned two of his friends and lost one of them on the way here. He was not going to fail.

He saw a figure standing in front of a familiar mirror. He rushed out and pulled out his wand.

"It's over Snape. You are caught, you won't get the stone. Dumbledore will come in a few minutes."

The man turned around but it wasn't Snape. It was Quirrell.

"You!" gasped Harry.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all.

"Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."

Harry felt sick, it was another thing that Arth had gotten right.

"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 did."

Harry and Quirrell turned around and saw that there was a person in the shadows watching them with emotionless eyes. There were signs of burns on his robes and skin and his hair was all messed up, probably due to how fast he had to run here to catch up with them.

It was someone who Harry couldn't forget.

"...Arthur."

However, Arth just ignored him he continued to stare at Quirrell with an omniscient gaze.

"Your plan was quite good, your act was even better. However you still had a lot of holes."

Arth slowly took out his wand and started to spin it on his fingers.

"Firstly, your lessons, while I first thought they were the blabbers of a broken man, you would sometime let meaningful information slip. I wouldn't find it suspicious if it was only that but the things you said because you could have read off of information from the course books. However, none of them where in any books."

Arth stopped swirling his wand and held up a finger.

"That was one."

Arth held up another finger.

"Second hole was the quidditch game. When Granger headed off to light Snape on fire, I was scanning the stands for any other suspects. Sure enough, you were staring at Harry, unblinkingly. Also, Ron and Hermione didn't notice but when she knocked you over, Harry had recovered his control, there was a five second interval between Harry recovering his broom and Snape getting distracted. This, I knew that Snape was in the clear."

Quirrell let out a nervous laugh.

"Quite smart aren't you. Why did you not tell the teachers of your suspicions."

"I was planning on leaving you alone, I had my trust in the other teachers' enchantments, plays, they wouldn't believe me even if I told them. However, the idiotic person right next to you decided he wanted to go on an adventure. I'm here to get him out safely."

"Arth..."

"Shut it Potter, I don't want to hear it."

Arth finally gave an indication of knowing that Harry existed. Arth turned back to Quirrell and raised his third finger.

"Third hole, your ambitions. Professor Quirrell, before you met the "Vampires" in Romania, you were timid, but not scared and absolutely terrified. Someone who had an aspiration to become someone big. And with your brilliant mind, a couple of vampires wouldn't be enough to traumatize you. So that means that something else changed who you were."

Quirrell went white as he started to mutter to himself.

"Number four, the ridiculous turban that you started to wear after you were traumatized, you are hiding something under it. And what Harry saw during the night he had detention in the forbidden forest. Unicorn blood. Sound familiar?"

Arth held up his final and last finger.

"Five, the manner in which you speak to me right now contradicts how you should talk if you are traumatized. So that means someone is controlling your mind, or at least partially influencing it. So, after all of this, will you still choose to stay silent, Mr. Dark Lord."

Quirrell froze, before giving a wicked smile.

"Impressive, I shall allow you to speak to my true self.

Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away. Then he turned slowly on the spot. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

Arth smirked.

"So this is what the great Lord Voldemort has become, a mere shadow of his former self. How low you have fallen."

The face coldly smiled. "Indeed, 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... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own...."

"Faithful? Don't joke around, more like host. You are controlling the mind of Quirrell, forcing him to do your bidding."

"It doesn't matter," the face hissed. "All that matters is that I get to rise once more and become the person I used to be, no, even stronger than what I used to be..."

"Yet your entire plan seems to focus on getting the elixir of life, produced by the philosophers stone, but tell me, lord Voldemort, can you get the stone?"

Silence ensued the chamber as Voldemort narrowed his eyes, from the back of Quirrell a head of course.

Arth gave a smirk.

"The mirror behind you, is called the Mirror of Erised. The words above it: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Also meaning, I show not your face but your heart's desire. You desire the stone Lord Voldemort, you desire it so much, yet the mirror doesn't give you what you want, it only shows you your desires. Only someone who wants the stone but not use it can take it out."

Seeing that Voldemort was looking at him and Harry with dangerous eyes, Arth smiled.

"Too late, none of us will be able to take it out. I do not wish for eternal life, thus the stone holds no appeal for me. Harry doesn't want you to get the stone, so he doesn't desire to take it out. You want the stone, but you seek to use it, thus you also cannot take it out. It's game over Voldy."

Voldemort closed his eyes in anger before opening them with a smile.

"I like the way you think, would you like to join me in my rise to power? I will promise you anything you wish."

Arth just shrugged.

"Nah, sounds like too much work."

However, Voldemort chuckled.

"Too bad, it's too late."

"What do you mean-"

Arth froze as he saw that the face was trying to rip out of Quirrell a head. Quirrell screamed before falling into the floor, and the floating face flew straight towards Arth.

Arth tried to avoid it but it was too late, the face entered his body and Arth felt excruciating pain in his head.

"Join me and become my loyal sergeant."

"NO, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

"Do not resist, I offer great power."

"I DON'T WANT POWER!"

"Then what do you seek? No matter, I'll find it myself."

Arth felt as though his memories were being played like a video.

A little boy with black hair surrounded by his family at the dinner table. A boy standing all alone in his house, no one in sight.

"GET OUT!"

A boy hiding inside a cupboard is watching through the crack as his-

Arth let out an inhumane scream that caused Harry to pale in fear.

He started to bang his head onto the walls and floors. Arth started to bleed from his head, nose, and eyes.

"GET. OUT. OF. MY. HEAD!"

The whole world collapsed as Arth slowly saw his vision give up on him. The last thing he could remember was a face disappearing into the air and the worried expression of Harry rushing towards him.