121 — Craniofacial Duplication
The Head Boy was very diligent in his testing, it appeared. The gap between students being called was six minutes or so instead of the one or two that the other professors had taken. On the one hand, that he was taking such care meant they would be fairly graded. On the other hand, they were being given close inspection, which was nerve wracking, and he might take off points for errors that might have slipped by under other circumstances. Once again, the students were grateful for the book-walking spell.
The slow testing meant those who hadn’t yet taken their test had to take lunch in the waiting room.
In any event, it was over three hours before he called Elly, leaving only the animagi and three other Gryffindors.
“De Rippe, correct?” he said, and marked a parchment on a clipboard when she nodded. He moved rather leisurely, taking his time. At first, she thought he was bored or tired, but his emotions said otherwise. He radiated mental exhaustion and despair, although nothing of either appeared in his expressions or movements. He wanted this over as soon as possible. A natural reaction, considering how long he had been at this.
But why wasn’t he hurrying things along? The contradiction between his mental anxiety and desire to hurry, and his clearly bored, slow movements set off alarms in her head. Training she had not needed until now began to resurface. She studied him carefully, watching his every move and comparing it to his mental emotions. They were definitely out of synchronization.
She took her time, and studied the room, itself. The table was in good condition, but not too good. The floor, walls, and ceiling were clean, as well, as she would expect a room cleaned by house-elves to be.
The area where the dummy was located, beside the thick wooden pole, was pristine, so that every student started with the same conditions and no unfair disadvantages.
The only blemishes were the small burn marks on the wall by the desk. They were matched by a tiny stream of soot that ran up the wall to the ceiling. But there were no signs of ash on the floor. Something had been burned, there. Something rectangular.
Now that she had noticed that, she picked up a very faint whiff of burnt oil and wood.
Taken together, it meant that something on the wall had been destroyed. A small painting, from the oil and wood smell.
That there was a smell meant it had happened this morning, after the testing had started, or the house-elves would have taken care of it. The question was, why? And was it connected to Dexter’s feelings of frustration?
She walked over to the desk. The smell as definitely stronger, there.
“Miss de Rippe? Stand over here, please.” He was a bit perturbed at her going towards the desk instead of where he was standing. He wasn’t curious, though, sounding more worried and annoyed. Again, a mismatch with the sudden feeling of hope.
She moved over to where he indicated. There was a spot on the floor where he wanted her to stand.
She completed the three tasks in under two minutes. He made notes on the parchments.
She almost asked about the destroyed painting. To see what his emotions would do. But then she realized that he would immediately remove any traces of evidence once she left. And it might be important.
As she walked out, she glanced back inside just as the door closed. He had moved to the other door and stared blankly at the wall without moving.
There were three Guards in the exit room, with several students talking quietly about their results in the tests. One Guard nodded to her. “We’re taking students back to the dorm every half-hour. The next group leaves after the next student,” she said.
Elly hesitated. She started for a chair, then stopped. Something was dramatically wrong. Dexter should have been running the testing as efficiently as possible. He had his own tests to study, for his NEWTS. The sooner he finished, the more time he would have to study. That he was wasting time was just wrong. He wasn’t even studying while he waited for the next student.
There had to be an explanation for the Head Boy’s actions, but the only one that came to mind was that he was being controlled. Someone wanted this particular test to last as long as possible. And it had something to do with a destroyed painting.
She turned and hesitated again. She would be drawing attention to herself, but she couldn’t do nothing. If she did nothing and something was wrong, she might get caught in the aftermath as they delved into what had happened and tried to determine who was involved and who was not.
By being the one to start the ball rolling, she might escape further notice.
She sighed and took a breath. The pegasus was watching her, now, her own instincts telling her something was wrong.
Elly walked up to the Guard. “Something is wrong with the Head Boy, Dexter Twycross.”
The Guard raised an eyebrow and tilted her head inquiringly.
Elly’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure the Guard could hear it. And she could taste the curiosity from the three Guards. “The test was quick, only a couple of minutes. It shouldn’t have taken more than ninety minutes — two hours, tops — to do all of us. Yet we here are, approaching four hours, and we’re still not done with all four Houses. It doesn’t make sense.”
Susan Bones looked up. “That is odd, now that you mention it. The test only took a few moments, yet the time between calling students is just over six minutes!” The Guards looked at her. “I was bored and timed it at one point,” she said as she blushed.
“Plus, Dexter’s behaving oddly,” Elly continued, “As I was leaving the room, instead of calling in the next student, he was just staring at the wall. Why would he waste so much time during the exams? At the very least he should be studying to prepare for his own tests, not staring at a wall.”
Elly deliberately hesitated, drawing the attention of the Guards, again. “And, I noticed that it smells, very faintly, like something was burned in there. But nothing in the tests involved fire.”
The unicorn walked to the door, cast a spell, then cast another, and soundlessly opened it enough to look inside. He closed it. “Sound the alarm,” he ordered. “And get the Headmaster.”
The pegasus shot out of the room.
“Please remain calm,” the unicorn said. “You are in no danger.”
Three minutes later, Professor McGonagall burst into the room. She was breathing heavily from running, despite the paint-walking spell that had greatly shortened the distance. “The Headmaster is dealing with a problem in Diagon Alley. What is wrong?”
One explanation and a powerful finite later, they learned that Harry Potter had been kidnapped almost three and a half hours ago by Professor Quirrell.
۸-_-۸
Harry jerked upright, his heart racing. He gasped. “What happened?” he blurted, looking around. He was in a dark corridor.
“I need your assistance,” Professor Quirrell said aloofly.
Harry looked over at him, startled. He wasn’t stuttering. And his voice was . . . colder, somehow. Sharper.
“Huh? Where are we?”
“That is of no consequence. Up.”
Still puzzled, Harry slowly got to his feet. “What’s going on?”
The professor guided him through a door with a hand on his robes and pointed. “Here’s a broom. Catch the key to that door’s lock.” He pointed at the door on the opposite wall.
The sounds of hundreds of wings flapping were above him. Harry looked up. He was stunned. As he stared, he realized that they weren’t birds or bats flying around up there, but keys! Keys of every size, shape, and colour imaginable.
Harry grabbed for his wand, and then realized it wasn’t there. His holster was gone. “My wand! My holster!”
Quirrell sneered at him. “Lost them, have you? How careless of you. What a pathetic wizard, you are. I don’t know why you have one, anyway. Use the broom, you ridiculous excuse for a wizard. The key is large, and silver. Very ornate. Move it!”
Harry reacted more to the tone than the words. He knew that tone. It meant “move or I will hurt you.” Vernon had been a good teacher, in that respect. Harry was half-way across the room before he started to think, again.
It was all so confusing. One moment in a testing room, the next, here. And Quirrell wasn’t acting like he usually did. He now gave the air of a competent, proud, and accomplished wizard. What was going on? What had happened to the nervous, stuttering, scared-of-his-own-shadow Professor?
As he was flying around he had more time to think. Finding the key was simple, his Seeker reflexes just kicked in and off he went. It was just like chasing the snitch, only at slower speeds on an inferior broom.
Wasn’t Quirrell supposed to be in Hospital? He looked perfectly healthy, now!
“Hurry up, boy, we haven’t all day,” Quirrell called out, sending a hex — that Harry easily dodged — to emphasize his point. The key was much harder to catch than the snitch, as it kept using the other keys as cover to hide its manoeuvres.
It was only when the wizard cast a shield blocking off half the room that Harry finally captured the prize. The other keys immediately began chasing him.
The wizard stabbed his wand and the keys trapped by the shield suddenly turned into feathers. Another stab and the keys behind Harry also turned to feathers. Harry landed and carefully held out the key, its wings struggling against his hold, to Quirrell.
“Imbecile!” snarled Quirrell, “Open the door!”
Once they were in the corridor, Harry went to leave the broom behind.
“Are you a fool? Bring it,” commanded the professor. “We might need it.”
Cowed by the Professor’s change in demeanour, Harry hurried to comply.
After a moment of walking, Harry asked, “Professor? Why are we here? Why are we doing this?”
“Ah,” said the wizard, sounding oddly pleased. “One of the great philosophical questions of all time! Why are we here? What is our purpose? Is it all an accident? Or is it some great being’s cosmic jest? Which of Platonism, Aristotelianism, Kantianism, Cynicism, Liberalism, Nihilism, or Existentialism is the answer? Or do we need to explore Cārvāka, Ājīvika, Buddhism, and Jainism to arrive at the truth?” He glanced back at Harry, “Or, as one muggle philosopher theorized, is it forty-two?
Harry stared back at him blankly.
“Oh. You mean here and now.” He sighed dejectedly. “I suppose it is too much to ask that a wizard actually be educated and intelligent.” He shook his head sadly. “You are just as useless and moronic as the rest.” He took a breath. “We are here to ensure my Master’s return! And he believes the solution is a blend of Absurdism and Existentialism. Despite time-turners and time travel, the existence of other worlds shows that free-will exists. We make our environment, and while our environment does have an impact, it does not make us.”
He sighed. “We have had some wonderful debates on the subject.”
Harry almost tripped as he skipped a step.
“He is immortal, you know,” Quirrell said in a conversational tone. “He just needs a bit of assistance in regaining material form.” The wizard stopped and stared down at Harry. “That’s why we’re here. You know, don’t you, what is being kept here? And that it can easily restore life to those who are not yet dead? Like unicorn blood, but without the drawbacks. And it removes all such existent curses when you drink the elixir. You get a whole and hale body. He will get a new body, and he will heal any damages done to mine as the first of his rewards on the road to our greatness. It is an honour to serve him.”
Harry swallowed nervously, even though his dry mouth made it difficult. Eyes wide he realized just what Quirrell was going on about. He was after the Philosopher’s Stone! For Voldemort!
His first thought was to run, but there wasn’t anywhere to run. And teleporting was prevented by the wards now around the castle. He knew he didn’t have the power to break through them.
And fighting Quirrell was suicide! Harry was just a First-year, he didn’t have a chance against an adult wizard or witch. And even less than that against his own Defence Against the Dark Arts professor! He could only hope to survive until he was rescued.
His voice quavering, he asked, “How . . . how did you get past Fluffy?”
Quirrell stared at the giant chess set before them.
“The cerberus? Once Hagrid verified it really was one, not a rune-powered illusion, a quick trip to the library fixed that problem,” he said absentmindedly.
“Oh.”
“And the vines under the hidden trap door on the wall — that was clever. A brilliant but highly flawed trap. The re-design of Devil’s Snare, one that doesn’t retreat from fire would have stymied a lesser wizard than my Master. They were easily countered with a glacius charm. If they’re frozen, they can’t move!
“Finding the hidden exit on the wall, as it was in the cerberus’ room, was tedious, however. They had already done that! Typical wizards,” he said contemptuously, “no ingenuity at all. And the magic in it just screamed, ‘here I am.’ They should have used multiple trap doors that led to a maze, in addition to the one that led to the next obstacle. Fools.”
He cast a blasting curse at the nearest chess piece. It flew apart, but then rapidly began to rebuild itself. The castles and knights shifted to point heavy-looking crossbows at them. A second attack would not go unpunished.
He frowned. “It would take too much power to simply blast through.” He didn’t take his eyes off the chess pieces. “Right. Harry fly to the door on the other side.”
Harry recognized the harsh, ‘obey or else’ tone. Sighing, he hopped onto the broom and started across the board.
Immediately, the knights, and castles oriented their crossbows on him. The pawns pulled out their swords and blocked his way.
He shot up to the ceiling, but a heavy bolt slammed into the stone, another almost simultaneously hitting beside it. The four castles and knights were firing bolts from their crossbows, which magically reloaded and shot again. They were almost like a medieval version of a machine gun.
After a moment of frantic dodging, the storm of magical bolts decreased slightly. The castles were now firing at two targets. Him and something he couldn’t see.
Even with the splitting of the attention and his seeker reflexes, he had no hope of making it across the board alive.
He quickly returned to the floor behind the chess pieces.
“So,” Quirrell said, abruptly appearing beside him, “flying is out.” He shot a spell at the floor. “And tunnelling would take far too much effort.” He glanced at the nearby knight. “I suppose we have to play, correct?”
The knight turned and nodded at him silently.
Quirrell actually smiled and seemed happy at the challenge.
The game started fast, but quickly slowed. Almost an hour into the game, the opposing bishop suddenly slid up to his knight. She swung her staff like Fred or George swinging their Quidditch bats. He was sure he was going to die as his ride exploded into shrapnel.
۸-_-۸
Harry awoke to Quirrell standing over him. He had cuts and bruises, but he wasn’t dead.
“A very clever trap,” was all Quirrell said. “But nothing my Master cannot solve.” He smiled proudly.
With difficulty, Harry mounted the knight a second time, and the second game started. Again, partway through the game, Quirrell felt it necessary to sacrifice Harry’s piece.
He groaned as he sat back up. His arm hurt abominably. He realized it was actually broken.
“A draw, this time,” Quirrell said. “Next time I will win.”
Harry tried several times to climb onto the horse, but his broken arm hampered him. Holding it close to his body didn’t help any, it seemed. He could feel tears tracking down his face.
Quirrell rolled his eyes. “It is merely broken, you wretched excuse for a wizard.” He flicked his wand.
Harry flew up and slammed down onto the horse, in front of the knight. He screamed and almost passed out from the pain in his groin.
He was barely holding on when, once more, the bishop piece took his knight with a swipe of her staff.
Harry was limping, holding his broken arm with his sore good one, as they made their way down the short corridor to the next room. Every muscle ached, and he was sure he had a concussion — things were a bit blurry around the edges, despite valiant efforts to keep his vision clear by his glasses.
Surely, someone must have noticed he was gone by now! It had been hours, he was sure, since he had been kidnapped. Based on how his stomach felt, it was well past lunch. Which meant the Defence Against the Dark Arts class practicals should have been completed and his herd-mates would be searching for him. Right?
And what about the alarm charms in the corridor?
“The alarm charms are child’s play to my Master,” the wizard said.
He must have said that last out loud.
“Not to mention that your book-walking spell made it so easy to escape Hospital.” He snickered. “A quick compulsion spell and confundus on that ineffectual, weak-minded matron was all that I needed. That and the small landscape I had in my pocket.” He chuckled “It was keyed to the landscape I levitated through the vents into the cerberus’s room.” He laughed evilly. “Another landscape was how the Head Boy, a simple-minded fool, got you to me, too.”
The troll, while smelly, was not a match to Quirrell. “That’s my specialty,” he said, “Trolls are simple to control for me.”
Harry gasped weakly. He stared up at the wizard in horror, “You let the Troll in at Halloween?”
“Naturally. Shows you how thick the Headmaster is not to have suspected me. He knows I have a special talent for controlling them.” Quirrell said.
“Unfortunately, someone showed some common sense and ordered the students to stay in the Great Room.” He glanced at Harry. “I knew that simpleton Dumbledore would have sent them all to their dorms, where, I had hoped, they would run into the Troll. And in the chaos, I would have made my way to the Cerberus and seen the next stage or two of the traps.”
He frowned as they walked past the snoring Troll, glancing at it. “Although that one was more difficult than previously, for some reason. I had chosen him because he was so easy to control, after all. But I had to expend a lot of effort to deal with him, just now.
“Well, never mind that.”
The purple flames that abruptly covered the door they had just exited were startling, as were the flames that appeared and covered the far wall. It did not take a genius to grasp that the seven potion bottles, and puzzle, on the table in the middle of the room were obviously Professor Snape’s trap. Then, the chess-set must have been Professor McGonagall’s, and the flying keys had been Professor Flitwick’s effort. The plants mentioned by Quirrell must have been Professor Sprout’s work.
He sighed dejectedly. That meant this must be the last trap before the Headmaster’s effort.
It took Quirrell only a few moments to decipher the puzzle. He tapped one bottle with his wand and duplicated it in his hand. “Here, drink this,” he ordered, handing it to Harry.
Harry did as instructed — what choice did he really have? He hoped the wizard hadn’t simply decided to give him the poison.
It was as though ice flooded through his body. He put the bottle down.
“Well, what are you waiting for,” Quirrell said acerbically.
He walked to the wall covered with black flames. He stopped and looked back at Quirrell, wondering where he should go.
Quirrell just made a hurry-up motion with his wand. Harry slammed into the wall behind the flames. He saw the black flames licking his body, but he couldn’t feel them. He stepped back a bit woozily.
What happened next was painful in the extreme. Quirrell, using his wand, wiped Harry across the black-flame covered wall, from side to side. He lifted him higher each time he completed a row until Harry passed out from the pain in his arm, now with multiple breaks.
Harry woke with a start, on the floor, and groaned in misery. Quirrell must have found the door to the next room. His robes were in tatters and his exposed skin rubbed raw. He barely noticed as Quirrell landed beside him and dropped the broom.
He must want an audience or he wouldn’t have awoken Harry.
After a few minutes, Harry awkwardly pushed himself to a sitting position and saw Quirrell walking around something. It took another few minutes for Harry to realize what it was that had captured Quirrell’s attention. The Mirror of Erised. It had been moved here.
“This mirror is the key to finding the Stone,” Quirrell murmured, tapping his wand around the frame. He sighed. “Only Dumbledore could come up with something like this . . . .” He grinned savagely, “But Dumble’s in London, isn’t he? And he will suspect nothing by the time he gets back . . . .”
“But you’ve already been found out! When you took me. They must have noticed when I didn’t come out of the testing room! Or that you aren’t in hospital!”
Quirrell turned and stared at him. Then he laughed. A long, cruel laugh. “They don’t know you’re missing, not at all. They all think you’re still waiting to be tested.”
“What!?”
“My imperioused stooge is taking his time with the students. He hits each finished student with a mild confundus and a suggestion that Harry hasn’t taken the test, yet. No one will realize you’re missing until long after the test is over. Which it isn’t, yet.”
He chuckled ominously. “The Headmaster is in London dealing with a muggle-born who will only negotiate with him, and is holding hostages for ransom in one of the shops. That half-wit Madam Malkin’s, I believe. Another simple confundus. Wizards are just so simple . . . and weak!”
Harry stared at him blurrily.
“Now, shut up so I can concentrate!”
How could the test still be going? They never took more than two hours, and he was sure he had been down here that long — just based on how hungry he was!
Unless, instead of doing just three spells, as he had done, Twycross had had each student do six or seven. That would stretch it out to double or more in time. He sat, horrified. They wouldn’t think to start searching for him until his herdmates reported him missing. And if they were last?
He shuddered. The professors weren’t looking for him, they hadn’t even started!
Harry had to stall the professor. He had to keep Quirrell talking, break his concentration, prevent him from focusing on the Mirror. Something . . . anything!
“Scootaloo and Ginny saw you and Snape in the forest —” he blurted out, “He was threatening you.”
“They did, did they?” said Quirrell idly. “No matter,” he said examining the Mirror’s back closely. “Yes, Sevy thought I was acting suspicious.” He smirked. “He wanted to find out how far I’d got.” He chuckled. “He tried to frighten me — me! As though he could, somehow, be more terrifying than my Lord . . . .”
He circled back to the front of the Mirror and stared at it hungrily.
“I can see it . . . I’m giving it to my master . . . but how do I get it?”
He wasted a few more minutes circling the Mirror.
He suddenly turned and looked at the walls. “Perhaps this is a red herring? A distraction?”
He pulled out his wand and started casting. After casting at one wall, he moved to the next. And the next. And the next. Then he started casting at the ceiling, then the floor. Then he examined each of the seven columns in the room, to no avail.
Frowning, he drifted back to the Mirror.
“No, it is in here, I’m certain of it. This close, I can feel a faint trace, ever so small, of the Stone. It has something to do with this mirror. Is it inside the Mirror? But if I break it, will that release it or bury it beyond my reach?” He lightly touched the Mirror’s surface. Then slowly pressed harder until the Mirror started to tip.
Harry slowly worked his way to his feet. Maybe the Mirror would show him where the stone was hidden. After all, at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to keep the stone from Quirrell and Voldemort.
He pretended to stumble and fall. He landed some distance behind Quirrell. He almost screamed again from the pain in his arm, but he was in sight of the Mirror. Quirrell was still murmuring to himself, absorbed in his thoughts. He ignored Harry.
“What did Dumbledore do? How does this mirror work? Master! I need your help!”
At first, Harry thought he was being rhetorical in his demand. But, to his horror, a horrifying voice seemed to come right from Quirrell.
“The boy . . . the boy . . . .”
Quirrell spun to look at Harry. “Yes, of course. Potter, come here.”
Harry staggered upright, slowly, painfully. This time Quirrell moved to the side and motioned Harry forward. “Tell me, boy, what do you see?”
He moved sluggishly, exaggerating his painful movements, dragging it out, killing time.
But it was no use. Too soon, he was standing in front of the Mirror.
“Well, what do you see?” Quirrell said eagerly.
He saw himself. The figure stood there, stared back at him, then shrugged and held his empty hands out, palms up with an expression and pose of “I have nothing.” Slowly, others began to form in the Mirror. First was his mum and Spike, then the fillies, then Hermione and Ginny. Then his parents appeared.
“Well, what do you see?” Quirrell said impatiently.
Harry didn’t look at him, drinking in the sight of his family and friends. This might be the last chance he got to see them. He could feel tears spilling out of his eyes. “I see my mum, and Spike, Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, Ginny, Hermione . . . ,” he said breathlessly, a warm feeling in his chest.
They were standing, staring back at him with sorrow in their expressions. The three fillies were openly weeping. His mum looked furious. He could almost believe she was about to step out of the Mirror.
But the Mirror was a mere reflection of his own desires, he knew, but that didn’t make the sight any less precious to him.
He tried to memorize how they looked. In all likelihood, it would be the last time he saw them.
۸-_-۸
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Wow Dumbledore barely did Twilight's suggestions. Now I wonder how he will react if he thinks that the stone was never here? I hope they find Harry fast as Elly just completely messed up the plan in the best way.
I have a feeling this fic is almost over....unless the writer of this fic is doing all the books
Hah, wow. Excellent rendition of this scene. Harry got friggin' thrashed and Quirrel is pretty much a full fledged monster, not the halfwitted stooge he was in the book. If Twilight gets there I don't think Tartarus is in that man's future.
I wonder fi twilight really is near and I wonder how Dumbledore takes it when he finds out form Harry they couldn’t find the stone
Called it in the last chapter.
I find it VERY hard to believe Twilight is going to let Harry comeback for a 2nd year.
Momma Twilight gonna be maaaaaaaad.
9626336
Unless the school is under new administration I doubt she will allow Harry and the fillies to attend. The only saving grace will be that several teachers will be rushing to Harry and proving where their priorities stand.
To quote from a game -of sorts- we used to occasionally do back when, "Can't go over it, can't go under it, can't go around it.... we'll have to cross it."
Well, no stone, but it's not like he needs it for the upcoming scene anyway. And I'd say all those sad reflections are probably getting him pretty well overcharged in love energy.
Calling it now: Once she learns what it is (after all this) Ellie is going to eat the Stone and use it to evolve into a full queen like she'ssome kind of pokemon.
I'd laugh if twilight really did step out of the mirror.... in rage mode.
Would be awesome if it happened comment Quirel says "Avada Kadavera ... by the gods master she caught the spell .... Theirs black smoke radiating off of her ... shes absorbing it."
Twilight "Your dark magic is lacking you wanna see what real dark magic is like learned from the tomes of equestrias evilist dark master. Know eternal suffering from horrors unimaginable as i banish you to the realm of nightmares ... Shadowgate banishment. PS don't fk with mamma bear."
I think that a surprise attack, in a "defense" class, would have made a much better practical final.
Too bad.
Yup, definitely something else in there.
Aargh! This is so good! I can't wait to see what happens next!
9626353
Remember that Harry's scar started to fade after Tirek. There's no guarantee that the scene can play out as it did in HP canon.
9626336
Harry and the CMC may actually insist... Otherwise, they'd have lots of trouble keeping in touch with Hermione and Ginny.
For some strange reason I have the feeling the mirror is showing what's happening to Twilight and the others. The fillies are crying because they have no idea where Harry is. His mother on the other hand...
Also well done Elly rather than confronting the person alone in typical movie style she acts like she's noticed nothing and goes to the authorities. If only she'd been called earlier.
9626394
Not if Twilight offers the two and the rest of Harry's friends the chance to study magic in Equestria, Hermione might take it as unlike Hogwarts there is nothing preventing her parents from visiting Equestria, in fact there is nothing stopping Hermione's parents or the Weasley's from simply moving to Ponyville.
9626349
Don't forget about Myrtle, she technically lives in Ponyville now and Twilight could at least make the suggestion that she not return to Hogwarts the following year.
Twilight could easily set up a self study program for Harry and company, this would allow them to learn at their own pace and enable her to monitor their studies despite being so busy with her role as a Princess.
Well, we're probably going to get to see Twilight go to Maximum Power in the next chapter.
Didnt Elly find the mirror through some sort of trapdoor or such? Makes me surprised it wasnt found by Quirrel
9626367
There is one supreme rule above all others... one that no god, no devil, nor any demon would ever dare to break.......... and that rule is.... NEVER FUCK WITH TWILIGHT'S FAMILY
9626423
You've now got me wondering if Twilight been quietly arranging with the IWC for Equestria to have Celestias school for gifted students it's own licenced school so ponies can go there to learn and be recognized by human societies as wizards and witches.
9626394
honestly it well be miracle if Dumbledore keeps his headmaster title in the school at this rate with this fiasco. if Hogwarts is still operating for harry's second year i doubt it well be without several more ponies taking up positions in the school.
Dude, with this, I would call twilight an awful mother if she allows Harry and the fillis to contenue in the school, this proves that hogwards is not safe at all, better give Harry a better education in an equestrian school and go to university, they have all the wizards books anyway.
From the way Quirrell was dropping muggle references, I'm wondering if Voldemort really is his Master or if he's been replaced with someone else.
I mean all he did was talk about how stupid Wizards were. Does that mean this Voldemort isn't a pure-blood supremacist and instead some fanwank OOC replacement that just wants to beat the stupid out of Wizards?
at a door
Things got dark.
9626368
A surprise attack merely measures one’s reaction time, not one’s knowledge and skill at casting offensive AND defensive magic.
sorry the stone has left the building for better parts.
O when Twilight shows up she is going to pull some one apart bit bye bit.
Elly has just stepped in to the light it is going to be interesting to see that little part play out.
9626541
Thanks. Should have been “pointed at the door”
9626539
Remember Quirrell used to teach muggle studies, that implies that he knows quite a bit about muggles or at least more than the average wizard. As for calling wizards stupid, well people who consider themselves smarter than everyone else would, of course, consider everyone else stupid.
Cliffhanger... The eternal rival of us, the readers...
If I recall, Elly got the Philosopher’s Stone that one time she was in front of the mirror; I think the last time she used it. Back then, and again now that I’m remembering that, I’m wondering how Elly fulfilled the ‘wanting to find the stone but not use it’ condition. Why would Elly want to find the stone? Was it because the hunt for the stone was putting her plans to continue to store up her love bank in jeopardy so she wanted the chaos to end? Would that have satisfied the desire to find the stone?
9626612
Considering the last two chapters I think Tkepner is doing it deliberately.
I wonder if 40 or so if us removed out likes to drop it back to 1300 we'd get the next chapter to read.
Got to take off my hat to Elly for this one, she secretly transport the stone to her bank's vault without anyone realized. And Voldemort didn't account for a military-trained, emotion eater to detect something amiss with the student.
I can't wait for the next one this is so good.
9626701
I think tkepner chose to interpret that point more broadly than most would. Elly stood in front of the mirror, not wanting the stone, but wanting to know why the mirror wasn't showing her what it usually did.
9626723
Or he could read your message and decide to wait a couple of weeks in revenge...
Oh Twilight is going to wreck some two face...
I’ve already donned the hazmat suit for when fecal matter impacts the rotary air circulation device.
9626575
I distinctly remember a scene in the second or third book or so when Arthur Weasly was trying to use muggle money and he had to ask for Harrys help because he didn't know how to count. Quirrils opinion is well justified.
9626973
It's not that he didn't know how to count he just didn't understand how the currency worked like a tourist visiting another country.
mmm poor Voldemort
9626523
you do get the feeling that this is leading up to a few years or so in Equestria...
I assume from Harry's passivity that he is regretting not learning any combat magic? and may use his kidnapping as a way to gain some? or has Harry forgot that he is a Unicorn and has no need of such a crutch?
9626539
No hint of this so far. Voldemort's principal emotion is contempt, so I don't see a contradiction.
I was expecting a new trap/puzzle from Twilight added to the list of obstructions.
*sigh* It's 'the Hospital Wing', not 'Hospital'. You make this mistake repeatedly throughout the second part of this chapter, and it's extremely grating. Not only is it poor grammar, it's canonically incorrect.
9626423
Seriously. Celestia has her own school as well. It wouldn't be that unlikely for her to expand it to others now given that with wands all ponies can due that type of magic.
I would have expected her to invite a few wizards and witches regardless as part of a foreign exchange program however this might have her recall Harry and the fillies.
Hmm. Also if she and he sister still plan on retiring soon given that Harry is Twilight's heir now it might be better for him to make connections in Canterlot. (Though given the upheavals in the world now I do think the diarchy is probably going to wait for things to smooth out a bit before trying to fost responsibility off on twilight.)
9627475
In the UK is it quite common that people leave the “the” out when going to hospital. Don’t know why this particular idiom is so prominent, but it is. You might as well complain about how people end their answers as questions, right? I mean that’s just silly, innit? Or how common it is for people to add “governor” when addressing someone better dressed than they are.
British vs American This does a better job of explaining.
9627740
My issue is that this is never demonstrated in canon. Also, it doesn't justify leaving out the 'wing' part of 'Hospital Wing'.
I know the story takes place in the UK, but it doesn't justify making these kinds of changes to canon. It breaks my immersion.
9627618
If used for that method it'd probably result in something like Neville's parents and and I'd imagine they'd introduce laws stating that it stil counted for murder/torture in terms of punishment. Magical laws however tend to be . . . tangled.