153 Got Away

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Harry, equally surprised, looked sharply at Quirrell. "What's happening, Nigel?" he asked, seeking understanding from his unseen companion.

Nigel, momentarily puzzled, quickly adjusted to the situation. "I don't know either, Master Harry. Do you want to use System Points?" he queried, his tone a mix of curiosity and urgency. Harry, watching Quirrell reach for his wand, made a snap decision. "Do it quick, Nigel."

With efficiency born of their unique partnership, Nigel utilized System Points to unravel the mystery. "It seems that, due to being merged with Voldemort, Quirrell is now also vulnerable to the protective magic that guards you," Nigel revealed, a hint of intrigue in his voice.

Harry's frown deepened as he processed this new information. "A spell I have on me? Why do I not know about this?" he demanded, his frustration evident.

Nigel elaborated, his tone taking on a more explanatory cadence. "It appears the reason you were able to defeat Voldemort as a baby was due to your mother, Master Harry. By sacrificing herself, she invoked a powerful ritual. Her love for you created a protective enchantment against anyone who means you harm."

Understanding dawned on Harry, warmth flooding through him as he grasped the extent of his mother's sacrifice. However, he knew this was not the moment for reflection. With determination, Harry dashed forward, placing his hands on both of Quirrell's faces, including the one that bore Voldemort.

The effect was instantaneous and dramatic. Quirrell recoiled as if struck by a physical force, his screams filling the chamber. The agony on Voldemort's face was evident, even in its spectral form, as he tried to detach himself from Quirrell.

"Seems like a touch of love is more powerful than I thought," Harry quipped, stepping back as Quirrell stumbled, trying to regain his composure.

Nigel couldn't resist commenting, "Ah, the power of love. How quaint. I suppose Voldemort never stood a chance against such a formidable foe."

Harry lunged once more, touching Quirrell's bare skin directly. The reaction was immediate and intense; Quirrell's skin seared and crumbled like parched earth under the scorching sun, turning into nothing more than dust beneath Harry's fingers. As Quirrell's body disintegrated, Voldemort's spectral form, a wraith of his former self, detached and hissed in fury and pain.

Scrambling to retrieve his wand from the floor, Harry locked eyes with the wraith. "You're not escaping this time," he declared, a fierce determination in his voice. Yet, before Harry could enact any spell to bind or harm the wraith, it fled like a shadow chased by light, swiftly vanishing through the cracks in the walls. "Blast it!" Harry cursed under his breath, his gaze scanning the now eerily quiet chamber.

"Nigel, is there any chance the headmaster might know I was the one in here?" Harry inquired, his mind racing through the possibilities of being discovered.

After a brief pause, Nigel responded, "It's possible he might suspect, Master Harry, but proving it would be another matter entirely."

With a nod, Harry slipped the invisibility cloak back over his shoulders, deciding that now was the time for a discreet retreat. His exit, however, was delayed by the sound of hurried footsteps approaching. Peering around the corner, Harry saw Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout entering the chamber, their expressions a mix of concern and urgency.

Harry pressed himself against the wall, hidden beneath the cloak, as Snape raised his wand and uttered, "Homenum Revelio." Harry held his breath, expecting the worst, but to his relief and surprise, the spell revealed nothing. "No one is here," Snape muttered, an edge of frustration in his voice.

As the professors moved deeper into the chamber, Harry seized the opportunity to slip out the door. Outside, he nearly bumped into Hagrid, who was beside Fluffy, struggling to keep the giant beast calm. "I'm hopin' ya didn't get yerself into too much trouble, Harry," Hagrid mumbled to himself, clearly worried yet oblivious to Harry's presence.

Choosing to bypass Hagrid and the potential for a complicated conversation, Harry hastened his steps and made his way back to the Slytherin common room. Once safe in his dormitory, he stashed the cloak and descended to join his housemates.

Upon seeing him, Daphne and Tracey quickly approached, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity, followed by Pansy, Malfoy, Nott, and Zabini. "Where have you been, Harry?" Tracey asked, her worry evident.

"In my room, taking a nap," Harry replied, the lie slipping easily from his lips.

"We knocked, but you didn't answer," Daphne added, her brow furrowed.

"I had a house-elf cast an Imperturbable Charm around my bed. I hate being disturbed when I'm sleeping," Harry explained, hoping the added detail would stave off further questions.

Their curiosity not entirely satisfied, but choosing not to press the issue, the group shifted the conversation. "What's going on?" Harry feigned ignorance.

With a roll of her eyes, Pansy replied, "The whole school's been put on lockdown. After the exams, the professors told us to go to our rooms and stay there. No one knows why."

Harry nodded, pretending to absorb the news for the first time. Inside, he was piecing together the fallout of his confrontation with Quirrell and Voldemort, aware that the school's heightened security likely stemmed from their encounter.

While waiting for the commotion outside to settle, Harry's curiosity about the Philosopher's Stone he had managed to secure from the mirror couldn't be quenched. His mind was already racing with questions about its authenticity and power. Deciding to put his doubts to rest, Harry whispered, "Observe," focusing his intent on the stone still tucked away in his inventory.

[System Message: Replica Philosopher's Stone - A finely crafted imitation of the legendary Philosopher's Stone. While it possesses a fraction (1%) of the original stone's capabilities, it can still bestow minor health rejuvenation and a slight increase in magical power to its holder. Caution: Not suitable for creating gold or achieving true immortality.]

Harry clicked his tongue in mild annoyance, yet not entirely surprised. "Should have known Nicolas Flamel wouldn't just hand over an artifact as potent as the Philosopher's Stone. Not only is it a source of longevity and endless riches, but also a grand Legendary Immortal Nexus," he mused, his tone laced with both admiration and a hint of resignation.

Nigel's laughter, light and teasing, echoed in Harry's mind. "Fake as it may be, Master Harry, allow me the honor of being its Ethereal Guardian."

Harry couldn't help but smile at Nigel's offer, recognizing the playful sarcasm for what it was. "Sure, why not? It's not as if we have the real deal to worry about. Still, even a 1% replica could come in handy. Just be sure not to get too attached to it, Nigel."

The conversation with Nigel offered a brief reprieve from the heavier thoughts weighing on Harry's mind. The encounter with Quirrell and Voldemort had revealed depths of danger and intrigue at Hogwarts that Harry hadn't fully anticipated.

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